#(← joking ofc ofc. just doing a Bit. ... but what if) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetcalebb · 22 days ago

Note

would you be open to writing caleb putting you in a headlock? Maybe you ask him to do it and he gets really into it 🫠🫠🫠

Headlock sex ! ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

wc: 2.6k

a/n: hii!! i can't tell you how excited i was to see this ask. i've thought abt caleb putting the reader in a headlock smm. thank u sm for this! i hope this was okay, and if it wasn't pls feel free to DM me, comment, or send another ask. i'm always happy to write more <3

content: prone sex, rough sex, light choking, bit of dry humping <3, cream pie, headlock (ofc!), power play, horny gym tension, biceps appreciation, reader likes to get all flustered around caleb like they aren't literally dating

——

You should've been counting Caleb's reps. You were—until you started staring a little too hard at his biceps. Suddenly, you forgot how to count, or think, or even breathe.

"Hey, what am I at, Pips?" Caleb grunted.

Shoot.

You just stood there, dumb, open-mouthed, and said, "Um... 10?"

He wasn't even training biceps. How the hell did they look so good when he was doing push-ups? It wasn't fair.

Caleb laughed, slowly sitting on his heels. "10? I could've sworn I hit 10 a few pushups ago."

Your face flushed. "I think you're counting wrong."

"And I think you're just ogling me," Caleb shot back, standing up and stalking over to you—sweat clinging to his forehead, muscles taut and glistening—

God. He was going to be the death of you.

"It's cute." He leaned in close, lips curled in a smug smile. "Can't count when you're horny, huh?"

You clenched around nothing.

"I'm not!" you scoffed, taking a step back, even when every cell in your body was screaming at you to pounce on him.

"Then why are you blushing?" Caleb teased, playfully poking your cheek before you could pull away. "I was just joking, but does watching me do pushups actually turn you on?"

You squirmed back, the tips of your ears burning.

"No!"

Caleb grinned. "Liar."

Heat dripped low in your stomach. Shit. Why was it so hot when he called you out like that?

"So, what about me doing pushups turns you on?" He squinted his eyes and cocked his head—all feigned innocence and charm. "Is it the way I grunt? Or the way I look when I'm focused? Or is it my muscles?"

Evil bastard. He knew what he was doing.

"C'mon. I gotta know," he coaxed.

"Nothing!" you finally huffed. "Nothing about you doing pushups turns me on!"

Everything.

Everything about him doing pushups turned you on. Especially his arms. But you didn't want to admit that, so without another word, you spun around and started heading for the exit.

Caleb laughed, watching the cute sway of your hips as you stormed off. "Hey! C'mon! We have to finish on cardio!"

But you were already outside.

—

Now, you sat, curled up in your bed, staring at pictures of Caleb—specifically the ones he sent after a grueling workout. Yes, you had a whole album of him, and he was always all sweaty and pumped... really pumped.

You took a shaky breath. God, his arms looked so good.

And Caleb? He was probably in your living room, minding his business all smug because he knew the things he did to you.

He was visiting for a bit, which was why you'd been working out together in the first place. You thought it would be a cute hangout, not—whatever that turned into.

You groaned, tossing your phone to the side.

You couldn't do this anymore.

You kicked your legs over your bed and slipped out of your room. Sure enough, there Caleb was—on the living room floor, completely relaxed, fussing with one of his model airplanes like he wasn’t the reason your brain had short-circuited.

He shot you a quick glance and smiled before turning back to his plane.

"Hey, Pips," Caleb murmured, brows furrowing as he chipped a piece of his model off. "You okay?" He took a double-take, a hint of smugness in his voice. "You look.. flushed."

You stood there for a second, your body burning and your mind swimming with all the dirty things you wanted Caleb to do to you. Especially now, with how nice his hands looked messing with his plane.

And he could see it. He didn't have to ask or look at you too long, he just knew.

Because that was Caleb.

"What're you thinking?" He quipped, tilting his head.

You shifted awkwardly, your legs squeezing together.

You took a small inhale, then carefully said, "I want to try something."

Caleb smiled, the model airplane in his lap forgotten the minute you uttered those words.

"Oh, yeah? What's this 'something' you wanna try?"

You glanced down, fidgeting with your shirt and shifting your the wooden floor.

Caleb grinned. You were impossibly cute when you were nervous—cheeks red and lip sore from how much you'd bitten it in thought.

Slowly, he stood and stepped over to you.

"You know I'll try anything you want, Pips," Caleb said, stopping in front of you and grinning that stupid grin that made your heart flutter. "C'mon. Have I ever judged you?" he coaxed.

"No," you murmured.

"Right. So, tell me."

"I..." Your eyes darted down to his arms. God. They looked nice. So nice, that for a split—horrifyingly horny—second, you wondered what they'd feel like wrapped around your neck.

Your whole body burned at the thought.

Then quietly—unbidden—the words, "I want you to put me in a headlock," came out.

Caleb laughed.

You must've been joking.

But when he looked at you—really looked at you—you weren't laughing or smiling. No, you were straight-faced, eyes hardened and jaw tensed.

Oh.

You were serious.

"What?" Caleb breathed.

You let out a stuttered breath. And as if this couldn't get any more embarrassing, you muttered, "During... it."

Caleb blinked. "During it?"

For a second, he just stared. His brain couldn't catch up. Had you seriously just asked him to... put you in a headlock during sex?

He let out a humorless laugh. "I—Pips, are you being serious?"

You paused, your heart thudding so loud you were almost certain he heard it. You knew this was a mistake. You should’ve kept your mouth shut.

"No. Never mind, I was just—I was joking."

You didn't care how lame that sounded, you just needed to get out of there before he saw the furious blush that crept up your cheeks and burned your ears.

But you weren't fast enough.

Before you could even turn around, Caleb's hand was around your wrist.

"Hey—don't do that." He tugged you back, forcing you against his chest. "If that's what you want, I'll give it to you."

Your breath quickened.

"Is that what you want?"

It took you a moment to learn how to breathe again before finally managing a quiet, "Yes."

At that, Caleb smiled—a big, crooked, and way too smug smile. Then, without warning, he bent down slightly and hauled you over his shoulder.

You yelped, clinging to his back. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"What do you think?" Caleb huffed. "I'm giving you what you want."

You wanted to argue. Pretend it really was a joke, but every nerve in your body lit up the second he said he’d give you exactly what you wanted.

He nudged your door open with his foot and stalked over to your bed before dropping you on the mattress and turning you over on your stomach. You gasped, your hands clinging to your sheets in anticipation.

Caleb crawled over you, wasting no time as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. "You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"

You squirmed, lips parting on a silent sigh of relief when you felt him against your ass. He ground against you once, then stopped before pinning you down when he felt you lift your hips to meet his.

"C'mon. Talk to me, Pips. I wanna hear you."

You groaned, dipping your head against the mattress. Of course. You should've known better than to think Caleb wasn't going to make the most out of every second.

"Yes," you breathed, struggling against his grip. "I've been thinking about this all day."

Caleb gave a groan of approval, rolling his hips again like he couldn't help it. "You should've told me sooner."

He dragged his lips lower, tracing them along your shoulders, the heat of his mouth seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

"You know I'd give you anything, right?"

"Not soon enough," you complained, your words earning a soft chuckle.

"But I'm going to." Slowly, he brought one hand around your throat—firm, but not too tight—and tilted your head to the side, "Aren't I?"

Heat pooled in your stomach.

It felt like a preview. A filthy, mind-numbing preview. If you were already losing it over this, you could only imagine what actually having his arm around your neck would do to you.

Instinctively, you pushed back against him again.

"Yes."

Caleb grinned, pressing a searing kiss to the crook of your neck. You barely had time to enjoy his hand around your neck before he was pulling away again, the bed creaking under his weight.

You couldn't help the small whine that tore from your throat. "Caleb—"

"I'm still here," he cut in, soothing his hands down your sides and stopping at your hips. "But it's kinda hard to give you what you want if this," he snuck his finger into the waistband of your pajama pants and gave a teasing tug, "is still in the way."

Caleb pulled them down just a fraction. "So, are you gonna let me take these off?"

You had to bite back another whine. "Stop teasing me."

Caleb laughed, slowly peeling your pants and panties down your legs. "You're cute when you get impatient."

"Caleb.. I'm serious," you huffed, trying your best not to break down and beg him to take you.

"Alright, alright."

You heard the sound of fabric shifting, then you felt him against your back again, warm, naked, and hard. You let out a shuddered breath, your muscles tightening with anticipation.

"Ready?" he murmured.

You nodded, then carefully, Caleb pushed in, a quiet groan slipping past his lips. Your back arched, the pressure in your stomach curling tight as he sank in inch after tantalizing inch.

You were soaked.

"H-hah... So, my arms really turn you on, huh?" he murmured, shifting his hips to fully settle against your back.

"Y-yes."

Caleb inhaled sharply, carefully slipping his arms around you in headlock. A light—very light—headlock.

You nearly lost it right then and there. You didn't know just how good this would feel until he was finally doing it. You shoved your hips back, the movement making Caleb huff.

"You're so... eager."

"Caleb. Please."

He gave a breathless laugh. "You remember your safe word?"

You nodded.

"You sure?"

You nodded again, more desperately.

"Yes," you bit out. "Please, Caleb, just move."

Finally, he pulled out, then pushed back in. Slow and deliberate. It was dizzying. He started a steady rhythm, your mess already spilling down your thighs and coating his cock.

You fisted one hand in the sheets and clung to his arm with the other.

Caleb grunted into your ear, brows furrowing with concentration. He gave you a brutal thrust, the movement pulling an airy moan from your lungs.

It felt too good. Too… right. His arm around your neck, your moans catching from the pressure there—it was everything.

Caleb groaned, dropping his forehead against your head, snapping his hips harder. He didn't mean to get so rough. This was supposed to he about you. But having you like this was so much better than he expected.

Every time he squeezed his arms around your neck, your walls gripped him tighter.

Everything about you was just so overwhelming.

Caleb gasped. "Fuck, Pips—I really—I'm—"

And you? You were too wrapped up in the bliss to notice how much Caleb was really losing it. You couldn't even form coherent words. You were just a mess of sounds and strangled pleas.

Caleb was going feral now—groans spilling past his lips, his hips meeting your ass with an obscene slap, his arms reflexively tightening around you.

"Tap—ugnn..—tap out if you... Fuck!"

He didn't even finish his sentence. Just buried his face in your hair and continued to pound into you.

You gave a teary moan, your nails digging into his arm.

"W-what?" Caleb breathed, easing his grip slightly. "Too—too rough?"

You furiously shook your head and tried pulling his arm firmer around your neck. "Not rough enough," you rasped.

That broke him.

Caleb let out a feral groan before gripping you tight and slamming into you so hard you were sure you'd feel it tomorrow.

"How's that?" he husked, tightening his arms around you and pounding into you with the same force. "Better?" It was meant to come out as a coo, but it ended up caught between a moan and a grunt.

"B-better!" you gasped out.

You two were lost in the bliss. Both feral and desperate. Animalistic. Until Caleb's pace faltered slightly. He huffed, the sound low and frustrated. "Some—something's... not right."

You whimpered. "Please don't stop."

Caleb gave a shake of his head and drew back, arms leaving your neck.

You nearly cried. You missed him. He hadn't even been gone for a second but you already missed the pressure on your back, on your neck.

Before you could ask what he was doing, he was hastily tugging your shirt up and tossing it to the floor. His own shirt joined in next to yours and then he was moving.

"Caleb, what—?"

You immediately shut up when you felt him again, warmer this time.

He molded himself to your body and snuck his arms around your neck again. "That's better." Slowly, he pushed in again with a slick slide.

Caleb groaned, shaking as he gave another slow push. He was trying to ease you back into a steady rhythm, but it wasn't enough. Without thinking, you slammed your hips back.

"Harder," you breathed.

Caleb didn't hesitate. He snapped into you. Deep and hard.

"Fuck. Yeah, that's it. Sorry, Pips," he breathed, quickly finding his rhythm again. "I had to feel you completely."

You could only moan, your hand coming around his arm to ground yourself again.

He was messy, but not sloppy. The slick sound of your bodies filled the space and made the room stuffy. But neither of you had any thoughts of stopping.

Caleb wasn't sure he ever would stop.

Not with you like this—pliant and sweaty and moaning so sweetly his dick twitched every time he heard you breathe.

"You love this, don't you?"

You didn't respond. You couldn't.

But you didn't need to.

Caleb pressed his face into the side of your head and let out a stuttered groan. You were getting close. He could feel it in the little flutter you gave every time he slid against that perfect spot inside you.

"You're close, huh?"

You squirmed, clenching around him tighter. "Y-yes!"

"Yeah? What do you need?" he rasped, willing himself not to spill himself right there. "This?" He squeezed your neck tighter, the pressure making your vision blur.

You gave him one last whimper before you were falling apart, your whole body tensing. Caleb gritted his teeth, trying his best to work you through it, but he fell apart the minute you did.

He rolled his hips lazily, his arms loosening around you. Sweat clung to your tangled bodies, your cheeks stained red from the intensity of it all.

Caleb sighed, dropping his head against your shoulder. "You okay?" he panted out, kissing your skin. "I didn't... didn't mean to squeeze so hard."

"Mm-nn. You were perfect."

Caleb breathed out a quiet laugh. "You think so?"

"Know so," you murmured.

His chest swelled at that. He gave you one last kiss before finally pulling out with a hiss. His mess slowly spilled down your legs and onto the mattress.

Caleb stared in awe, soothing his hands up your back, then down again to rest on the swell of your ass.

"Next time you want something, don't hesitate to tell me." He leaned back down, his breath fanning over your temple. "Don't stew in your bedroom, trying to think of how to ask for it, just do it."

You smiled. "Any—" you took a small breath, "—anything?"

Caleb nodded. "Anything. Everything."

Your cheeks warmed. "I love you, Caleb."

"I love you."

——

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littleapplle · 2 months ago

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Dearest writer, I would like to submit an order into your respected bakery! 🍞🥯🥖🥐

May I kindly get a NSFW A to Z Headcannon for Rafayel or Caleb? (or both if you don’t mind :3) I’m a huge fan of your writing and given that you are open for orders I figured I could try my luck in ordering something special 🙂‍↕️🥹

But ofc if this is too much of a hassle you may kindly ignore my order and move on 🤭🥹🥺 I shall kindly await for your response and I look forward to your masterpiece (even if it’s not my request) 💖

nsfw alphabet ⊹ ࣪ ˖ rafayel and caleb

cw.: nsfw. real porn links!! must be logged in twt to watch.

note: oh anon you'll make my heart melt:( thank you for your sweet words, my luv. i'm so sorry for the wait, i wish i had finished this much sooner >< hope this is good enough tho bc i lwk feel like i did a terrible job <//3

rafayel

a = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): Really good! Rafayel can’t stand being dirty after sex and won’t really rest until you and him are cleaned up so you two always end up snuggling in his bathtub while he massages your scalp and scrubs your body lovingly. If you're not too tired, talk to him. He wants to hear your voice. How was it? Did you enjoy it? Tell him everything, he'll listen. Rafayel holds you so close you think he’s actually trying to get under your skin, literally.

b = body part (their favorite of theirs and their partner): If you asked, he’d say he loves every part of you and he absolutely cannot choose. If he really had to answer… your boobs. They’re the perfect size, feel good on his palms, your nipples don’t have a single moment of peace. You have to physically pull him away before they’re sore and puffy. ❤︎...¹ ❤︎...² ❤︎...³

on his body though… his hands, of course! It is with them that he creates his beautiful pieces and makes you come undone as his slender fingers press down on that spongy spot inside you.

c = cum (anything to do with cum): Will come anywhere you want if you ask him to but he really likes to see his cum dripping on your skin. Be it your stomach, your tits, doesn’t matter, he’ll go feral. As for the taste, it barely tastes like anything. It’s a bit salty and very watery but that’s it. ❤︎...

d = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs): Really wants to photograph you. Be it during sex, just you touching yourself, anything. Definitely has a secret journal about you and wants to decorate it with your beautiful body and face. 100% has a polaroid of your tits on his wallet and has no shame at all.

e = experience (how experienced are they): Barely any. Listen, he has read erotica, studied human anatomy a thousand times and knows the human body like no one else but he never had sex with anyone but you so please guide him the first few times. Be vocal, he’s a quick learner, he’ll learn his way around your body in a second.

f = favorite position: Rafayel likes a position based on how easy he can 1. kiss you and 2. look at your face. Missionary lover, basic but nothing with Rafayel is boring. Sex with Rafayel tends to be SO romantic, he’s THE lover boy. He kisses you so sweetly, sucking hickies on your neck while his cock drags inside you slowly. Also looooves when you ride him! it’s a combo of everything he likes, you frowning in pleasure, your boobs bouncing AND you on top of him!! ❤︎...¹ ❤︎...² ❤︎...³

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): Oh sex with Rafayel is never serious! He’s always trying to get a reaction out of you, be it trying to make you laugh by pressing a kiss to that ticklish spot on your neck or by making the stupidest joke ever. Your laughter gets him going more than he’d like to admit.

h = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): First of all, yes, it is purple and second, he shaves very frequently. As a lemurian, he never had any issues with body hair since he didn’t have any. Nowadays, he’s grown used to shaving since his pubes sensory bother him.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): Puh-lease, we are talking about Rafayel. The artist, the lemurian that lives and breathes for love, your one and only soulmate. Rafayel is obsessed with you, always has been, always will be. To have skin to skin contact with you, letting him see you bare and vulnerable and yet still trust him, it’s everything he’d ever wish for. Rafayel lives for romance, love and pure intimacy and he will show it to you in every touch, kiss and praise.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon): Before getting together with you, if he was ever really pent up and stressed, maybe once or twice a week. After you two got together officially, he doesn’t see the point in masturbating when he’s always glued to your side. If you’re away for whatever reason though? I believe he can get pretty needy and maybe, just maybe, rub one off.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks): Does body worship even count as a kink? Well, doesn’t matter. How many times do I have to say that Rafayel is OBSESSED with you??? There’s nothing that makes him hornier than being allowed to kiss your body. Praising you in every single language he knows is not enough, he needs your soul to be tied with his so you can read his mind and deepest thoughts about how lovely you are. Also, voyeurism, Rafayel is a closeted perv. He likes to watch, to take his time eyeing his food before actually diving in. Seeing you touch yourself without his intervention makes the knot in his lower stomach grow tighter and his skin hotter.

l = location (favorite places to do the do): Rafayel is too possessive to have actual sex in public so that’s a no. Anywhere in his studio is fine if you’re comfortable! Buuut if you trust him enough, please let him drag you to the ocean. There are no interruptions, no important phone calls, no Thomas to accidentally walk in, it’s just you and him where he’s most comfortable. It doesn’t tire him to be in his human form but giving his body a break and finally being in his real, lemurian form, feels like a relief from time to time.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): When you’re more petty than him and talk back. FUCK he could bust a nut right there. Or the fact that as a hunter, you can manhandle him just as easy as he can manhandle you. OR the fact that you’re not scared of him in the slightest. He would never hurt you, but if he wanted, a single song would be enough to make you go crazy and drown in the ocean. You’re aware of that, you just don’t care. That’s what makes him go insane.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs): Share you with someone. Although he doesn’t show it, Rafayel is extremely protective and can be very possessive depending on the situation. Letting someone else touch you turns him off completely.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): #01 pussy eater. Rafayel loves your pussy ok, leave him alone… Can totally cum untouched from just eating you out and is not embarrassed in the slightest. Actually really good at it too, like, 100% a muncher. Def tries to make you squirt on his tongue. As for receiving? Sure! It’s never unwelcomed. Just know that he will return the favor 10x better. ❤︎...¹ ❤︎...² ❤︎...³

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): Rafayel can be both. There is no red and blue with him, there’s purple. Rafayel can’t stick to a single thing forever. During his heat, he’s rougher, manhandling you around and bending you in whatever position he judges comfortable in the moment. When he’s feeling needy and clingy, he’s gentle. Rolls his hips against yours slowly, kissing your neck sensually while praising you in lemurian.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): Not a big fan but he isn’t totally opposed to them. For Rafayel, sex is something intimate and he wants to take his time with you. He wants both of you to enjoy the moment with no rush.

r = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): That depends on how far you two are going. Fingering you under the table at a banquet? Sure, why not. Getting a bit handsy and making out? Lovely. Actual sex? No. Not happening at all. Rafayel, even if he hides it, is a possessive creature. Your sounds and body are for his ears and eyes only. You’re his and he’s not up for sharing.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): Normally, he can go for two rounds before falling on top of you tiredly. In heat though? He is not stopping. His mind breaks but his body still wants and needs more. Doesn’t matter how many times he’s come already, his hips do not stop against yours until he thinks you’re full of his eggs.

t = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): Doesn’t own any but is not opposed to them. If you’re interested in trying it out and using them during sex, sure! He can work with that. Extra stimulation on your clit while his fingers are shoved on your cunt isn’t unwanted.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease): Now, is it really Rafayel if there’s no teasing? He is insufferable. He likes to see you work for it even though he knows damn well it’s him that will fold first in the end.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make): Sorry, he’s not holding back. He needs you to know how good you make him feel. His range is insane, he’d be grunting in your ear and suddenly his moans turn high pitched and beautiful. Rafayel can get whiny, he complains, he’s petty, he mewls and in the next second he groans and curses in his mother language in pleasure.

w = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): I need to spread the virgin Rafayel agenda… He is a lemurian, he’s bound to you in a level that no human would ever understand. There are no “friends with benefits”, “situationship”, “hookup”, Rafayel has been waiting for you and only you. He doesn’t need it to be magical or perfect, he just needs it to be you.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): The prettiest cock you’ll see in your short human life. It’s genuinely nice to look at. Rafayel’s cock is pale, with the prettiest pink tip and cutest mole on the length that if you kiss, his knees buckle weakly and his head spins. It isn’t thick but it’s curved up and it drags deliciously inside you. I’d say #c7b2ab for the length and #d9a3a3 for the tip. In his human form, solid 6,7 inches (17 cm).

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?): Lemurians are creatures with many cycles. Rafayel has a high libido naturally, but during ebb day and his heat? He is trying to crawl under your skin. Ebb day makes him needy, sensitive and whiny, he just wants an effective way of cooling off. His heat quite literally makes him feral, he wants you and if you consent, you’re not leaving the water at all. At least not until it is over.

z = zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward): Pretty quick. After he’s sure you two are clean, comfortable and satisfied, he’s hugging you close and burying his face in your neck sleepily. If you feel like it, you two can chat. Rafayel loves pillow talk. If you’re tired and wish to be quiet, then it’s time to nap.

caleb

a = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): THE BEST. King of aftercare. Knows everything you want and attends to every one of your needs. You want water? There’s already a glass on your bedside table. You’re hungry? You want him to cook or do you want to order takeout? He’ll do it. You feel dirty? Let him run a bath for you- you get the idea.

b = body part (their favorite of theirs and their partner): In your body, definitely your ass. Always has been. Doesn’t matter what you are wearing, be it those old pj’s from your childhood, a new pair of undies, nothing at all, it all makes him feel like he’s gonna bust a nut on his pants.

He really likes his arms. Caleb has always worked out a lot since highschool and he’s really proud of how far he’s come. He likes how big they’re compared to yours, how he can manhandle you during sex and roughhousing, and how comfortable you look in his arms when you two hug.

c = cum (anything to do with cum): If you allow him to cum inside you, that’s all he’ll ever want to do. Caleb has a huge breeding kink, and the fact that you trust him enough to let him fill you up drives him mad. If you go down on him, he never lets you swallow it, he feels too bad to do so. Makes you spit on his hand and honestly thank god. It’s thick and slightly bitter but he cums so much you WILL choke. ❤︎...

d = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs): Sigh, is it really a dirty secret if you already caught him at least twice? Caleb’s interest in your underwear is pathetic. At this point he’s not even trying to hide it anymore, he’s just shamelessly going through your drawers to find that old and stained pair you forgot to throw away. Bonus point if you catch him sniffing them and complain about it. Secretly likes when you scream at him and say “Gross, Caleb!”. Also wishes you let him keep your undies on during sex, it really turns him on.

e = experience (how experienced are they): None. Caleb has never felt any attraction to anyone but you his whole life. For years he has been waiting for the right moment for both of you so, you’re his first and last.

f = favorite position: Backshots. He loves your ass. There’s nothing better than taking you from behind, a hand wrapped around your waist while the other smooths the skin of your back. Also really enjoys being inhumanely close to you, doesn’t matter the position. As long as you two are close, you, safely in his arms, he’s happy. ❤︎...¹ ❤︎...² ❤︎...³ ❤︎...⁴

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): Caleb wishes that you only see his outgoing and playful persona, created just for you and the sexual aspect is not different. He likes to make you laugh at any and every moment. If you whine in pain because his cock is too big, he’ll blow a raspberry on your neck to distract you and make you giggle. He’ll tickle your waist if you talk back. Anything to make you smile.

h = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): It’s trimmed. Not all shaved and smooth but it isn’t unruly. Has the sliiiiightest happy trail peeking up his boxers. If it bothers you though, he’ll shave it in a minute.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): Very romantic. At least he tries. Caleb wanted to be your prince charming, your knight in shining armor his whole life. Sex is one of the many ways he wants to prove he’s the best for you, that around him, you’re safe and can be yourself with no fear. He kisses you gently, whispering the sweetest words ever in your ear, massaging every sore spot in your body while wishing he’s worthy of your praise too.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon): Yeah… During his teenage years, he jerked off a lot. Caleb had a high libido but could not have the only person he wanted so all he had was his fist. Nowadays, before and after you two got together, i still believe he jerks off alot since you two are still very far apart, you living in Linkon and him in Skyhaven, though he prefers coming to you rather than fucking his fist by himself.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks): As I mentioned previously, Caleb has a huge breeding kink. Part of it is because he genuinely wishes to start a family with you in the future but also because he feels so close to you this way. Loves to keep his cock plugged inside you for a while before actually pulling out. ❤︎...¹ ❤︎...²

His praise kink goes both ways. He’s always praising you for all of your achievements, not only sexually. Please praise him back, he’s trying his best for you, always. Tell him he is making you feel good, tell him you love him, that what he’s doing feels right. He might come on the spot.

Do I even have to mention his size kink… He is bigger than you. Caleb goes weak at the thought of being able to manhandle you into whatever position he wants you to be. And if he can press down on your tummy and feel his cock abusing your cunt? Ohhh yeah, yes he came. Don’t judge him. ❤︎...

l = location (favorite places to do the do): Caleb can only actually relax when he’s alone with you at your apartment or his. Preferably yours back in Linkon. He feels tense in Skyhaven and is always on alert. In Linkon though, he can let himself relax better knowing that you’re safer. Not a fan of kitchen sex specifically. That aside, anywhere is fine.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): You’re horny? So is he! Caleb has been waiting for you for years, saying he’s pent up is an understatement. Just say the words and he’s already looking at you with puppy dog eyes, waiting for an order.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs): Anything related to impact play. No. He hates the thought of hurting you and finds no pleasure in such things.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): Zero skill, no experience, but he has a dream. Show him how you like it, ride his face, pull his hair, order him around, hell, sit on his face. He’s a quick learner once he sets his mind onto something. 100% a giver and doesn’t want you to go down on him because it’s too “degrading” and he feels bad. Please go down on him. He’ll complain and try to pull away but he comes SO quickly, cock twitching, grunting, knees buckling and all. ❤︎...

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): … Rough. Listen, he doesn’t mean to be rough but he can’t help it. Your cunt makes Caleb malfunction, overheat and shut down. He’s dumbed down at the slightest clench around his cock and his hips have a mind of their own, snapping against yours harshly as he drools and kisses your shoulder in apology.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): Actually likes them! You two are always very busy with your jobs and being distant from each other most of the time isn’t easy. To him, quickies are more about you than him. He wants to get you off so you feel at peace. He can rub one off later and you don’t have to concern your pretty head over it.

r = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): No. Caleb hates, hates, hates the thought of taking risks with you. He’d rather die than having you be seen in such an intimate way. As for experimenting, yes of course! Be open with him, tell him what you’re into, what you want to try… Your wish is his command.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): From the lack of experience, Caleb can last two rounds max before you tire him out. That does not mean he’ll leave you unsatisfied though. He still has his mouth and fingers ready to satiate you. ❤︎...¹ ❤︎...²

t = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): Absolutely not. Are you trying to get him killed? Caleb is jealous of anything that breathes the same air as you and you want him to accept the idea of having something else making you cum? Just shoot him already.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease): If anyone is being teased, it’s him. Although you two play fight a lot, Caleb isn’t one to be a tease during sex. He has been waiting, planning for this moment for years. Everything needs to be perfect. He can wait to get under your skin later.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make): He tries so hard to be quiet… he wants to focus on your moans, your moans are the pretty ones, not his. Caleb holds back, bites his lip, hides his face on your nape but nothing can make him shut up. The moment he enters you, he’s moaning, huffing and grunting like an animal.

w = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): Caleb really enjoys all the attention you give him when he’s looking all scary and dominant in his colonel uniform. He knows you eye him hungrily when gets home, he won’t take the uniform off on purpose, he just waits to see how long it’ll take for you to fold and come sit on his lap, grinding your cunt on his clothed thigh. Won’t admit it but likes when you call him colonel, sir, mr. xia, etc.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): Alright mr. fat cock pack it up. It’s thick alright. I can totally picture him saying “biiiig stretch, pips” while shushing your whines. Thick base, thick and veiny length, fat tip. That’s what he's hiding in his boxers. 6,6 inches (~16,5cm) that stretch you out SO good, the veins drag inside you soooo nicely it feels like heaven. #a88479 for the length and #a66d5b for the tip.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?): Oh boy, do I even need to say this? We are talking about THE yearner. Caleb’s super pent up and dare I say he has a pretty high libido. He is always stressed because of work and he has been waiting for you for years. The moment you consent, he’s fumbling with both his and your clothes.

z = zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward): He usually doesn't sleep after you two have sex. He’s too busy watching you sleep to do so. Caleb is only at peace if he is sure you’re safe and comfortable. Poor boy barely has time to catch his breath as he’s running around the apartment getting everything you might need and want so you don’t have to leave the bed. Tell him to relax, ask him to lie down with you, bury your face on his beefy chest and make sure he doesn’t leave the bed, he needs it.

⊹ ࣪reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you for reading!(*´▽`*)

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karinasbaby · 10 days ago

Text

.. SO NO HEAD? *SMASHES PHONE* H.LINE + JW.

🪻pairing. ot5 enha x fem!reader (separate) warnings. THEY’RE ALL SO STUPID & UNSERIOUS !! (lovingly ofc) litr just the silliest ppl ever. grown adult shit, mdni. dirty talk & cursing, flo (the band) reference & sleepyhoon reference & freakhoonistan joke reference too ! unprotected sex, stupid arguments, rlly just awkward moments. like voice cracks and accidentally hitting oneself (someone slips and almost breaks his ass) n yeah.. word count. 6.7k a,note. pls ignore how jake litr looks high on the banner / photo. this is also the second most unserious thing ive written after the pussy eating competition. that being said, take this as a little teaser of my upcoming family feud (karinasbaby’s version) series :3

★ TAGLIST: @intromortal @bambiihee hai first time using my taglist welcome :3

IN WHICH.. a series of unfortunate circumstances that take place mid-fuck with your boyfriend.

aka enha being their own cockblockers! why need enemies when you have your own self?

യ LEE HEESEUNG.

for as long as you’ve known heeseung, he’s always had a questionable nature.

one that no longer made your eyebrows raise or your head hurt from just thinking about the why or the how of his behaviour. you’d gotten used to it ages ago, or atleast that’s what you told yourself.

because by some unknown, cursed miracle, heeseung still managed to surprise you every now and then by voicing out the most ridiculous thoughts or confessing his weirdest desires.

and while some of them were somewhat tame, like riding a jet ski while walking your overly active border collie or his amusing urge to build a snail shell collection with all the ones he finds in your backyard every morning (and while some of the shells had oddly disappeared, you’ve threatened him enough with moving out if you were to ever step on one.)

so all in all, your boyfriend’s personality was too much of a breath of fresh air sometimes. but nonetheless, you’d grown accustomed to his odd manners. what you haven’t gotten used to is their involvement in your bedroom life.

which might’ve been smooth in the beginning, with heeseung being the incredible partner he is. constantly checking in and putting your pleasure above his— he was practically the dream partner one would love to have during intimacy.

but once he asked to incorporate specific things from.. the bathroom into your bedroom activities, you should’ve known. because the second that crack formed? the whole dam broke entirely.

sure everything might’ve started off very innocently. like his sudden love to have candles lit on the bedside table, very romantic. but it slowly became un-romantic when he randomly suggested using his electric toothbrush as a vibrator when the one in your drawer refused to work.

and even through all of this, you still found him adorable because you knew he meant no harm. he was simply too.. invested when it came to certain matters. he wanted to help or impress no matter how strange the actions to do so will look like.

but sometimes.. it just becomes a tad too much.

“heeseung.. i cleaned the bathroom this morning. it’s still too slippery. i’m not risking one of us dislocating our hips just so we get to fuck under water.” here you were now, book in one hand and coffee in the other with a very sulky heeseung begging you for a round of shower sex.

which technically you would have no issue with. except the first day post cleaning the floors of your bathroom would be a bit too unreliable. and you would rather wait another day than have one of you possibly slide out of the bathroom completely naked. “but babe listen.. i really need to do this today.” and this time you had no choice but to close your book and settle your mug on the table. “literally why?”

heeseung avoided eye contact. his hand now scratching the back of his neck, “well.. we don’t do it that often. and i may or may not have seen a shower sex link—“ “you watched porn?” “no! well, yes. but— not in the way you think!”

you looked at him like he just called the law of gravity a myth. “.. so?” your boyfriend sighed. “so.. jake was scrolling on his phone— full brightness mode as always. and he scrolled past a video where.. you know.” his ears carried a tinge of pink to their tips. “i’m going to take a wild guess and say that the people in it were fucking while showering?” “well yes.”

“.. aaaand now you want to have shower sex? the same day that our floors are as slippery as a frozen lake?” you narrowed your eyes at him while folding your arms under your chest. “you’re willing to risk one of us falling just to have sex?” “well when you put it like that— no, there’s no guarantee of one of us falling first of all!”

this time your eyebrows furrowed while the tinge of pink travelled from his ears to his cheeks. “and there’s no guarantee of us not falling?” heeseung groaned. large hands rubbing down his face in frustration before dropping onto his lap— and oh. oh.

so that’s why he was so eager. you could practically measure his bulge that peeked from beneath his sweatpants.

“just trust me okay? i won’t let either of us slip.” but you still weren’t convinced. no matter how sincere and genuine his words sounded.. you knew how your floors were. and even though you should refuse, your eyes still peeked at his bulge that was barely covered by his hands. “.. okay but i’m not paying for any surgeries.”

and that’s how you landed in this position. chest pressed against the cold tiles while heeseung pushed his body to yours. warm water raining down both your figures as he slid his leaking cock in and out of your slick thighs, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your puffy clit while he spoke behind you.

“feels good? mhmm you’re already so wet. i can feel your pussy trying to suck me in, baby.” you could hear the way he was biting his lip from his words alone. eyes half lidded as he was trying his best to stay composed, even when you began to whimper his name and rocked your hips back against his grinding ones. “stop teasin’ seung.. just put it in.” and he chuckled.

hands now settling on your waist. “so impatient.. i know you want this just as much as i do.” and he finally started to angle his hips better, abdomen brushing along the curve of your ass as his tip began to poke into your sopping hole, making you sigh in relief.

and right as he began to push himself in— heeseung disappeared.

in the blink of an eye his warmth was nowhere to be found. heeseung fucking slipped.

“oh fuc—“ he barely was able to curse before a thud sounded in the bathroom louder than the running water and both of your moans combined. “heeseung?!” before you could even turn around you already saw his legs in the corner of your eyes.

he almost landed himself in the splits from the way his legs practically gave out on him.

“heeseung you— you dumbass i told you that we would break something!” and though it wasn’t the best time to scold him, not when he was still sitting butt ass naked on the wet and cold bathroom floor. you already knew this would happen. and to see your boyfriend now gripping his calf with his features twisted in pain— god it just made you realise how purely idiotic this was. “could you save the complaining for a few minutes?” his voice cracked.

“my leg is numb.”

“and literally who’s fault is that?” you helped him up, well tried your best to do so without slipping and landing on your ass too.

“you know what— yours! why the fuck are the tiles squeaky clean??”

“.. that’s what you’re blaming your stupidity on??”

so to make a long story short, the night ended with a blue balled, injured heeseung alongside a very sexually frustrated and irritated you.

യ PARK JONGSEONG

misunderstandings with jay weren’t that rare.

though the two of you had quite contrasting personalities and opinions, but the ability to figure out a common ground for both of you to settle on was a nice factor you shared.

some examples include jay’s persistence on opening the car door for you and pulling your chair back at any table. and even though on some occasions it wasn’t needed, meaning that you did said actions yourself but that didn’t sit well with him and .. it resulted in you being asked to go back inside the car or to sit up from your seat again.

or a few instances of movie nights going south because neither one of you could decide on a movie to watch. you didn’t want to settle for jay’s movie, jay didn’t want to watch frozen for the fifth weekend in a row, so the ending result was: both of you just sleeping.

but these were very harmless and miniscule moments.

the other misunderstandings that occurred were quite the confusing type.

to share a few of these thoughts with no penny offerings: that one time jay confused a bodyguard halloween costume.. for a lifeguard one.

maybe you were too excited to talk to him about your newest bodyguard costumes obsession, and jay being the sweet boyfriend he is, decided to dress up as one. except some mishaps in translation occurred.. and instead of jay appearing with suit and shaded glasses, he arrived shirtless with red shorts. (bonus points for still wearing shaded glasses.)

but it was a lighthearted and silly misunderstanding that resulted in your friend group needing a few minutes to recover from the laughter and you trying to cool down a very embarrassed and flushed jay.

or that one time jay began to fester feelings of resentment towards a reoccurring name in your conversations. michael. but the issue started when michael wasn’t just reoccurring, he became a constant reminder.

it was “oh michael loves shawls too!” sometimes and “michael would’ve loved to come here.” other times. and since this was still in the beginning of your relationship, jay tried his best to tolerate it.

but a man’s patience could only handle so much. especially jay’s very thin one.

it blew over one day. “you know i haven’t seen michael in weeks.. i wonder how he’s do—“ “why don’t you go to him?” jay suddenly snapped.

you blinked. “are you angry?”

“no.” but he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“yes you are.” “i’m just saying that if you want and miss michael so much. why not go to him? you’re wasting your time here with me anyway—“

“wait— jay hold up.” but he wouldn’t stop.

it was like all of his pent up anger and emotions began to spill “it’s like he’s your boyfriend. you always mention him wherever we go. it’s just— just go to him! i really don’t mind nor do i care. as long as you’re happy—“ “jay.” and he finally paused to take a deep breath.

he faced you now, eyes lowered and lips in a gut wrenching pout. “i don’t want to hold you back.” you were trying your absolute best to not smile now.

“jay..” his gaze flickered to your eyes, “jay michael is my mom’s dog.”

so it took maybe five to six days for him to fully recover after this incident. (but three entire months for sunghoon and jake to stop bringing it up.) but it was safe to say that after this one jay started to take heart to heart conversations very seriously.

ones where both of you would just lay your hearts out fully raw to one another, in order to not cause further stressful weeks for you two. (mainly jay.)

yet sometimes they still managed to slither back into your relationship. even when neither of you knew they were coming. their timings were hilariously impeccable.

like no one would expect a misunderstanding to happen mid jay pushing his cock inside of your drooling pussy. but it still did.

“oh fuck.. so tight, baby.. feels so good.” your boyfriend had you pressed onto the mattress. chest to your back while your hands gripped the sheets and his legs got tangled between yours. he slipped inside, easily and warmly. like your walls were greeting him back inside of them. and jay was on the verge of losing it every time you tightened.

his hips began to rock against yours, thrusting in and out loudly. “shit— jay you’re s’deep.. fuck.” and your hand slipped beneath you, toying with your clit as his tip kissed your cervix with each movement. “yeah? playing with yourself baby? keep going. wanna feel you cum when i fill you up.” he picked up the pace slowly, still letting you feel every inch of him as he stroked your dripping cunt.

and you whimpered. “fuck— please jay.” he pressed his face to your neck, hands gripping your hips to push you back to him. “you’d like that won’t you? wanna carry my baby, hm?” and you nodded, eyes rolling back when he continued to grind into your squeezing pussy. “yes— oh my god. please fill me up n’ get me pregnant.”

and here’s where things began to go south.

because jay— so lost in the feeling of your divine pussy and determind to fuck you full— misheard you. terribly.

he didn’t hear “get me pregnant”, his overstimulated brain registered it as “i am pregnant.”

at that thought, jay paused.

for a split second he thought to himself, were you joking? did you think that this was the best time to reveal it? how long had you been sitting on this piece of information? did he fuck you too good that you spilled a possible secret? if so why is it a secret?— considering he did also participate in making the baby? unless—

but whatever his thought process was cut off, it barely lasted long as he pulled out and sat on the mattress next to you. tears already glistening in his eyes with his palm pressed to his mouth.

and you, horny and mid-fuck abandoned you, was very confused.

“are you serious?” jay’s voice was barely a whisper, and now you were beyond confused. “jay are you okay?” he shook his head, some tears already slipping free from his eyes while he smiled the most heartwarming one you’ve ever seen on his face. “are you.. really pregnant?”

and oh no. oh no. he misheard you really badly.

“jay..” you carefully started, sitting up on your elbows now with your features sympathetic. “baby..” the idea of you breaking down the news to him now— after another stupid mishap stung. because jay looks like a kid on christmas morning.

but you had to do it before he began to freak out more.

“i don’t think you h—“ “baby this is huge!” he suddenly jumped on you, hugging and wrapping his arms around your waist while you yelped in surprise. “did you confirm it with a test? why didn’t you tell me?”

even though you were approximately three seconds too late to answer his first question, jay still took your unclear responses as a very clear yes when that wasn’t the case at all. and it was about to get even worse.

“jay—“ “can we go see the baby?” “jay i said ‘get me pregnant’ not i am pregnant.”

silence.

he froze, for the second time tonight.

deafening, awkward, icy silence.

“oh.”

you studied his features. the way his face remained stoic, like time stopped for a second for him once again. and now you began to feel nervous— was he going to hate you after this? angry? but you really didn’t mean for him to misunderstand anything—

but jay just smiled.

a calming, sheepish one. “well.. we can always try!”

and at his sweet acceptance, your heart swooned. this was your favourite part after having a misunderstanding with jay— just how quick he was to adapt, to accept the truth and figure out what to do with the honesty now. “yeah.. of course we can.” you pressed a loving kiss at his collarbone to which is giggled at.

“.. we have a lot of time to do so.”

and now the conversation took a sharp turn.

“jay.. we agreed for one round.” “nope! you can’t get my hopes up for nothing now. we have a mission to fulfill.” he smiled before pressing you back down onto the bed.

“now i’m going to turn one of our misunderstandings into a reality.”

യ SIM JAEYUN

jake had a talent, a gift when it came to annoying you.

whether it was by him teasing you on purpose, hiding your hair ties or leaving the toilet seat up. he just got a kick from seeing the pissed off look stuck on your face. oh and he loved to rub it in even more.

“sooorrryyyy about the ice cream baby.. you know i can get you a new one whenever you ask!” he yapped from the kitchen, slowly coming into the living room with that incredibly annoying smile on his stupidly charming face. “jake. it literally melted because you forgot it in the backseat. this is the third time it happens this week.”

and though he was cheesing at your anger as he sat in front of you. he would never let you be irritated for too long. he won’t ruffle your feathers for too long. or he wouldn’t make your blood boil too much— whatever it was, he would do it, but not too much.

which is why he hid an extra ice cream tub in the freezer so you won’t spot it.

so sure he did piss you off, but it was okay. his excuse was to make you feel better with his hands and maybe his cock before making you even happier by bringing you the ice cream tub to make it up for you and all this would actually make him thee most elated person on earth.

and in jake’s mind this was a double win situation. except it would be a double win situation if you faced him.

because right now, you were staring angrily at your television screen with your hands folded. not even sparing him a single glance, and it was time for jake to pull his card out of his sleeve. (one of many.)

act like you just got shot.

“ow!” his hand flew to his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt while his face twisted in faux pain. “my heart.. i just felt the first crack..” you rolled your eyes.

you huffed, and jake fell onto the couch.

landing right next to you with both of his hands gripping his collars like he was suffocating. “i can’t! oh my god— i’m dying, baby. i’m— i’m dying. i can’t do this, don’t you know that i live off of your attention?” his legs slumped and extended further under the coffee table.

and you just kept ignoring him. scooching away on the couch while jake groaned like he just got stabbed and you twisted the knife. “i’m on the verge of death— and you’re still not facing me?!” and this time his voice fully cracked.

“jake what the actual fuck?!” your boyfriend had to fight every single urge in his body to not smile at the frustration in your voice. “you had my ice cream melt in your car and now you have the nerve to act like this?” jake gasped loudly. “and you have the nerve to treat me like this? tell me when have i ever hurt you in any way.”

though the initial conversation in his head was more.. light, unserious even. he didn’t want to go too far, that was never his thing to do. but in order to have both of you calm down and for him to follow with his initial plan, he had to attempt to corner you now.

except it felt impossible because he could practically feel the steam simmering from your body.

“literally right now?! where is my ice cream when i asked you to buy it very kindly this morning because you kept forgetting all the other ones in your car?” you fully faced him this time. and he rubbed his palms all over his face. “this isn’t about ice creams right now. i have a whole new tub in the freezer that wasn’t melted and you don’t even know about it.”

you paused. “you— what?”

“just tell me. have i ever hurt you besides the silly stunts i pull just to have you roll your eyes at me for a few minutes?” his voice was lower now. body unexpectedly closer to yours as he was almost caging you down without you even noticing or realising. you couldn’t help the small gulp in your throat once you saw just how challenging his eyes were.

if there was another thing that also caught you off guard when it came to your boyfriend, well besides his knack for annoying you. it was just how quick he was able to shift demeanour and mood wise.

you shook your head, “i know they’re silly. and i just .. you know there’s a little part of me that likes them too. but i just really wanted ice cream today.” and there it was, admittance. at which jake raised his eyebrow in amusement “oh?”

“oh, shut up.” you attempted to push him away, attempted. but he was solid in his place as he cocked his head to the side and smiled. “nah baby.. so you’re telling me that you like it when i tease you, hm?” and you started to feel an unexpected warmth around your face.

you now pushed his face to the side. “no.. or maybe.” and jake laughed. a whole chest rumble as he let his body fall above yours making you both lay onto the couch. “so you were just being bratty then, yeah? is it nice to throw tantrums around just to have me on edge?”

“now you’re acting like you don’t do it on purpose.” glaring at him, you continued. “if i like it when you tease me, you love it when i act bratty.” jake sucked in a deep breath. completely caught.

“fuck yeah i do. because i can put you in your place when you start getting out of line.” he climbed off, settling on his knees with his face flushed and a crooked smirk on his features. jake was panting just the slightest bit, bottom lip stuck between his teeth as his hands roamed down from your waist to your thighs.

in response, you lifted your hips towards his touch. “and how are you gonna do that?” with your voice barely a whisper, jake’s eyes glinted in a dangerous way. like a challenge, like a warning. “wouldn’t you like to know..” his hands then moved towards his abdomen, reaching for his belt before he slid it off of his jeans’ hoops

his eyes never left yours as he folded the leather, one layer above the other before slightly pulling it. snapping it into place to let it crack in an intimidating message—

smack.

but the end of the belt didn’t lash in the air like it should’ve, oh no. it landed right on jake’s face. right on his cheek and the slap was nasty.

“ow!—“ “oh my god??” neither of you had time to even process just what had happened. a blooming redness painted on the site of the snap while the belt fell out of his hands and yours rushed to cup his face.

jake’s eyes were shut in pain. mouth still agape in a silent gasp while his palm pressed onto the wounded skin now. all the while you were trying your best to hold back your laughter.

but the small chuckle that escaped your lips— you really couldn’t help it.

his eyes snapped open. “oh we’re laughing now?” but he could barely speak. words slurry and garbled as his cheek was still being cradled by his palm and yours for emotional support. you shook your head in denial. “nope, not at all.” but your smile said otherwise.

“.. we’re never talking about this ever again.”

“never.. yeah.”

യ PARK SUNGHOON

quickies were never your kind of thing.

you disliked rushing, felt a despise towards rush hour. while sunghoon on the other hand had no choice but to depend on it.

demanding schedule and a demanding work. demanding boss and paperwork— you get the gist, he doesn’t have much time lately. neither of you knew about this before, how complicated and stressful his work could eventually become. and though the pay is great and the connections are even greater, sometimes you still missed when you and sunghoon were wrapped up alone in your own bubble.

but nowadays, especially for the summer, he barely had any time.

and when stress combines with a needy man’s body, it doesn’t always have the best reaction.

because now sunghoon felt the best way for him to blow off steam or to cool his mind down was to release it in some shape or form.

exercising helped, he picked up boxing once again and started to buff up more. he often settles down for calmer things to quiet down his mind, like how he joined in to crochet alongside you on a rainy night a few weeks ago.

the atmosphere was perfect and sunghoon had just gotten an email from his manager about a new due date, what was supposed to be his project that he had to submit by next month, was now pulled to next weekend.

so to put it very lightly, sunghoon was quite panicked.

but once he started to take it somewhat easier on himself and to manage his tense work life, sunghoon felt like he could breathe for the first time in what seemed like months.

and though it felt like your bedroom life was practically nonexistent now— he still tried his best to bring it back to life whenever he had the time to do so.

which is our topic of discussion today: your unfathomable dislike for quickies and sunghoon’s obsession with it.

it started off very quietly, very slowly. like the silent working of a spider in a random corner before you find a full blown web two weeks later. his first few excuses were that he had been needy since the night before and just now had approximately ten minutes to do something about it.

in the beginning it did annoy you. the rush of clothes being pulled off and the wild make out sessions— it wasn’t not enjoyable.. it was just a different approach to something you’ve grown to take your time with and relish in.

so you weren’t wholly against it per se, you just preferred sunghoon to dick you down properly in bed.

but it seemed like he had different plans, judging by the way he had a thing for begging, for pleading and dragging you into the closest rooms. you couldn’t tell if he had a kink for having sex out of nowhere or if it was the risk of being heard and caught.

either way, it started to rub off on you. no matter how much you wouldn’t admit it.

so when sunghoon’s fingers that were laced around yours tightened their hold suddenly, you already knew what was coming. and maybe.. just maybe it excited you just a bit.

caught up in the gala of his company— the same one that dried up your sex life like a desert before sunghoon swooped in and saved the day as usual, it was fancy to say the least. decorations and golden balloons were seen everywhere, elegant glasses and delicious canapés with names you didn’t even want to pronounce were being passed around by waiters that floated through the crowd.

it was quite the opulent and luxurious gala. definitely not the place to have a quickie in.

but sunghoon didn’t care. he was already leaning to whisper into your ear, “need you.. can we please go?” and you would be lying if you said that the tremble in his voice didn’t make your knees twitch, “hoon.. are you sure they won’t notice?” he quickly shook his head, “not at all, baby. look i can even ask jay to distract them.” and sure enough jay already heard your conversation the second his name was mentioned.

not that he could do anything besides glare at your moving figures as sunghoon pulled you into one of the hidden bathrooms.

empty and still looking oddly fancy, he locked the door behind you both after checking under the stall doors for a possible pair of feet— once cleared he pushed you against the wall, mouth instinctively littering kisses all around your neck when you groaned and threaded your fingers through his hair.

did you care that you were messing up his slicked back hair style? not really. did sunghoon himself care when he was pushing your silk dress above your hips just to push your panties to the side? not at all.

“looked so pretty.. saw everyone’s eyes on you the entire night. bet you loved it, hm? they all saw how beautiful you are.” he breathed out, the veins in his hands pulsing as he worked through both of your clothes while still refusing to detach himself from your neck. “but they don’t know how you look when you’re just with me.” he then pressed his lips to yours.

a heated, desperate make out session took place. with sunghoon licking into your mouth while you unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, “you could still ruin me now for them to see.. let all of them know what you do to me.” and at your words he smirked. like he knew, he agreed, and he will listen.

and right when his own hands reached towards his belt, sliding it halfway off then unbuttoning his pants and reaching for the zipper just to relieve his bulging cock— sunghoon yelped.

like an entire combination of a hiss and a panicked groan. and you looked down to a sight that would widen your eyes.

“sunghoon—“ “shit— i can’t pull it out—“

no it wasn’t his cock that was stuck. it was his finger.

stuck right into the harsh ridges of the zipper that were pulling at his own skin now, enough to have the delicate surface nicked. “are you fucking kidding me right now—“ you reached forward to hold his shaking hands, “calm down, be gentle.” and sunghoon whined.

“for fucks sake just when i got the chance to—“ your boyfriend couldn’t even finish his sentence before there was a bang bang on the door.

“sunghoon you idiot! you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants for just ten more minutes?! mr.lee is asking for you!” jay’s frustrated voice echoed inside of the bathroom, where sunghoon’s finger was still stuck in his zipper. and of course now was the perfect time for sunghoon’s boss to ask for him.

and now neither one of you knew which one was more embarrassing. the fact that you slipped out of the crowd to fuck in the bathroom or the fact that you couldn’t even fuck because sunghoon’s zipper decided to become have an issue with your pussy and his cock.

“are you serious?!” sunghoon yelled back, to which jay responded with a final rapid knock as if he was telling him to hurry up before his boss became suspicious.

“well..” you looked back at his pink and semi purple finger. “it’s either you go up to mr.lee with a finger in your zipper or with a bleeding finger.” and sunghoon wished that the ground would open and swallow him open in this current moment.

but then— you started to.. shimmy away? “.. where are you going?” “um..” sunghoon stared at you, finger still stuck in his pants with his cock now half hard, “i think it’ll be better if only one of us was taking a long time in the bathroom than both of us..” now sunghoon’s eyes widened.

a shocked smile painted his features. pure bewilderment on his face as he looked at you. “you wouldn’t dare..” but you were already unlocking the door, and right when sunghoon tried to reach out for you— “ouch! oh my god are you fucking serious right now—“

and you slipped right out of the bathroom. leaving behind a disheveled sunghoon with a broken zipper as you walked back into the gala after fixing your dress, one missing was better than two after all.

and sure enough, this particular incident will become a very popular one between your friend group.

if sunghoon’s frown with a finger wrapped up in toilet paper as he talked with your boss was anything to go by, well that and jake sneakily taking photos of your boyfriend to send into the group chat.

“yooo i never sunghoon was this down bad bro.”

യ YANG JUNGWON

jungwon was fairly new to sex.

hell he was fairly new to relationships. to having a partner, to fulfilling his boyfriend duties.

from sweet questions and check ins that he would have with you to panicked conversations with his friend that would get him basically nowhere so he would have to resort to google sometimes.

he was the cutest boyfriend you’ve ever had.

though he was awkward, shy pretty often, he still attempted his absolute best and gave it his all even when it costed him to throw away his dignity alongside his sanity. but jungwon had a problem, he could never say no to you.

it wasn’t just outright refusing you— it was just the thought of rejecting you and the chance to impress you.

now one might think that relationships have their own stages: the beginning, anxious stage where one or both parties are courting the other. and this one is basically the base for everything. this is where it will either work out or fail horribly.

the second one is the ‘honeymoon stage’ after the success of the beginning, it’s the constant need to be there. the urge to amaze one another to prove that there is a reason to stay. to love and to continue.

then there was the comfortability stage. finally settled, finally happy. there should be no need for jungwon to go out of his way to the store when you’re on your period only to buy every single pad size along with multiple chocolate bars even when you’re allergic to almonds— “you know, some people have actually recovered from their allergies so you’ll never know—“ “jungwon you already bought twenty different chocolate bars, i think if i avoid the almond one it’ll be okay..”

there should also be no need for jungwon fluff up your pillows whenever you complained about your body feeling sore, or to prepare an entire tray with different supplements and dishes with high protein when you mentioned in passing that you felt under the weather today.

because jungwon wasn’t only applying his knowledge about ‘princess treatment’ no, it was way beyond that. even worse than ‘monarch treatment’ he was still stuck in the honeymoon stage. still applying ‘let me impress you over and over again just so you’re happy in this relationship and stay treatment’

but you were already past that part. you couldn’t imagine yourself with anyone besides jungwon. your lives were already perfect.

did he spoil you? check (way more than needed sometimes)

loyalty? another check. matter of fact jungwon preferred to actually stay at home with you than hang out with his own guy friends.

any background checks? none needed at all. this was the same boy that found a five dollar bill on the street when he was eight and decided to go to the police station to give it back.

all in all, jungwon was like.. if a very loving marshmallow grew a brain and limbs.

he was perfect.

except he still tried to work on himself. to give even more than his all to your perfect relationship to avoid any possible cracks and problems.

which is why after doing some digging (in his defense, he overheard your call with your best friend, violet. and your voice was.. loud enough. no need for eavesdropping.) he realised that he was right.

he wasn’t perfect. he was lacking in one singular factor that you mentioned one time to violet, the bedroom.

“i really like it when someone talks dirty to me. i think i have a thing for dirty talk to be honest, vi.”

and jungwon was.. confused? worried? caught off guard? because with his inexperience in relationships, he wasn’t quite sure what you exactly meant by dirty talk.

because it surely can’t be your desire to have jungwon sexually talk to you while actively fucking you.

but unfortunately for jungwon (after doing an extensive search on every sketchy and oddly named website he could find) he found out that that’s exactly what you meant.

you wanted jungwon to engage in dirty talk. even though you never outright said this, jungwon still took it this way.

but jungwon is a solider. he’s not one to back down. if anything this whole ordeal just fuelled his need to surprise you even more. as the boyfriend that you chose, he’s ready to quite literally bend reality if you asked him to.

so what were a few sexually explicit words going to be against big and mighty jungwon?

a lot. apparently. a lot. very much so.

right now, jungwon was in the perfect situation. the opportunity twinkling like gold, the ball was in his field— whatever the phrase was it applied to him. this was the perfect time for him to initiate Plan A: Dirty Talk During Intercouse (Debut)

(note: he had no plan B or C planned after this.)

you were straddling him, nothing covering you except your flimsy skirt. ruffling under his hands that gripped your hips while yours were on his shoulders. and jungwon looked at you like you had hung the stars. even if he was balls deep inside of you right now.

“fuck won.. you feel s’good..” the praises fell effortlessly from your mouth and each one went straight to his twitching cock that was cradled by your pussy. jungwon was turned on, blushing, rock hard and was still trying to focus on his main goal.

dirty talk mid fuck. he’s got this, it’s no issue. it’s no problem.

he took a deep breath before “who’s pusˢʸ ᶦˢ ᵗʰᶦˢ—“

jungwon doesn’t think that there has ever been a moment in his life where he hated himself more than right now.

that one time his sister tripped him in front of his crush in elementary school? nope. or that other time he slipped on spaghetti on his first ever date where he couldn’t face the girl after? no, not that one either. even when his own mom brought up embarrassing overflowing diaper stories to his previous girlfriend’s mom? no.

if jungwon were to round up the amount of embarrassment he felt in those moments, it still wouldn’t amount to the absolute shame and humiliation he felt right now.

he had one job. one singular sentence to speak to you, and his voice cracked.

and now both of you were frozen.

“jungwon did you just-“ “don’t.” “did your voice—“ “please.”

and you had to suck a really deep breath in. anything to just not crack (no pun intended.) anything to hold back your laughter no matter how suffocating it felt. and thankfully jungwon still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“just.. why?” he heaved in, “i heard you saying you liked it.” “oh so you overheard me and vivi talking? and decided to just.. apply it?” the more you heard him speak with his voice barely loud, a mere whisper, like he had a fear now of speaking the more it made you smile harder. simply because of how heart meltingly adorable he was being with his flushed face. “i wanted to give it a try.”

see up until now jungwon was barely holding on by a thread and the more syllables left your mouth the thinner that thread became, “so you actually want to try dirty talk—?” what you weren’t realising was that you were shifting. way too much for a cock as hard and as sensitive as jungwon’s to handle, “wai—“ “do you even realise how cute you sounded?” “hoˡᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ—“

this time the issue wasn’t that his voice cracked like a teenage boy in puberty was again, it was the fact that he came too.

to add more gasoline, salt and lemon juice to the wound, the silence was absolutely silencing. you could not only hear a pin drop, but probably an ant walk too.

so jungwon, accepting defeat and shutting up his mouth just tapped your thigh, ignoring the way your shoulders were shaking from held in laughter and just pulled out. moving to sit on the couch with his elbows to his knees and his palms to his face.

“i’m genuinely never going to recover from this one.”

“yeah..” your voice was suspiciously wobbly. “it’s okay, won. it’ll pass and we’ll move on.” you sniffled.

“i’m gonna book three extra appointments with my therapist.”

a,note. hi this was so funny to write & wasn’t proof read so pls ignore any sentences that aren’t correct / don’t make sense but i rlly hope u enjoyed it !!! feedback is greatly appreciated :3

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chanandlersstuff · 3 months ago

Text

Three times where Anakin’s jealousy was harmless, even fun, and one when it wasn't.

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader/OFC.

Summary: Every time he sees her across the room and forgets to breathe, forgets that damn code that complicates his life. She knows exactly what she’s doing, she’s beauty, power, and temptation wrapped in one impossible woman, and everyone wants her, but she only burns for him. Every time he sees her with someone else, Anakin’s composure cracks a little more.

Word count: 7.141

Warnings: Anakin, a warning itself. A little bit of smut, not graphic, there, toxicity there, jealousy, a creep, violence and blood. (let me know if i miss something).

Author’s note: Hiii, two times in one day, count yourselves lucky. First time writting for our sweet beloved Ani.

This is inspired by hours and hours of clone wars and this tiktok. It goes without saying that all this is fictional, I don't want to upseat anyone, this is for fun.

With that being said, enjoy, hope you like it. Lots of love, ME.

(gif credits to the owner)

The air was thick with expensive perfume, velvet words and politics. Senators with fabricated smiles moved like currents through golden light, their laughter overlapping with the soft strings of the Nabooian quartet tucked into one corner of the ballroom. Glasses clinked. Conversations sparkled.

Anakin felt her before she even entered the hall properly. The soft tug in his chest told him she was close, and when she stepped into view, adorned in metallic green robes that kissed the floor, hugged her curves and shimmered as she moved, he nearly forgot to breathe.

And so did everyone else.

She looked like a whispered sin.

Men turned. Women glanced. Senators whispered. Generals approached her. Every damn set of eyes in that room followed her. Of course they did because she looked like the brightest star of them all.

Anakin could feel them, sense their intentions as they approached her with too-wide smiles like the itch of static across his skin. Their attention wasn’t polite, it was hungry.

His eyes saw her having polite smiles, he heard her laughter, rare but dazzling, curved through the air like sunlight on water, and it struck him, standing across the room in ceremonial Jedi robes, how damn bright she was.

And how many men wanted to bask in her glow.

She was the kind of woman people gravitated toward. A quiet sun in the middle of a storm. A cathedral in a world of shacks, commanding awe.

He stood across the ballroom, robed in Jedi formality, a guest and a ghost. His hands stayed folded behind his back, his expression neutral. But inside, he was seething as yet another advisor leaned just a little too close, whispering something into her ear that made her smile, and his fingers curled into a fist.

For hours, she moved like light across the floor, drawn into every orbit. People hoarded her attention, called her name, asked for things, fed off her warmth. She smiled, laughed, and even joked. All while never looking at him. Not even once.

Then it happened, some Republic attaché leaned in to say something, too close, and she turned her head to hear him better, her shoulder brushing his chest. His hand hovered just behind her waist. Not touching, not quite.

But Anakin felt it, felt the heat surge like a detonation in his chest. A sharp, hot pang hit low in his gut.

He hadn’t touched her in weeks, some mission in some Outer Rim dustbowl, he couldn’t even remember the name now. All he could think about in that moment was the ghost of her skin under his callus fingers, soft, smooth, velvet-warm and seared into his memory like a brand.

And now others were close enough to smell her perfume.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, willing the fire down, but it simmered. Oh, it simmered. Another man stepped up to her side, clearly emboldened. Flirting again. Anakin’s knuckles whitened behind his back.

She plucked the flower the man offered her, twirled it between her fingers, and, finally, looked up. Across the room, past every other face. Right at him and her smile changed. Slow. Private. Not for anyone else. She knew what she was doing and she loved it. He could feel the pulse of her amusement, soft and golden behind her ribcage, glowing just for him.

And that was enough to cool the burn. For now.

She excused herself a few moments later, slipping away with the tail of her gown floating behind her, weaving through polished diplomats and oblivious senators. He waited precisely ten seconds before following, every step practiced restraint.

The cool night air of Coruscant swept over the balcony, a quiet haven away from the noise and glitter of the gala. The hum of air traffic and muffled music were distant, irrelevant things. All Anakin saw, all he ever saw, even in his dreams, was her.

She leaned against the railing like she owned the city, like the stars were her playthings. The wind caught her hair just enough to make him ache.

“You looked cozy in there,” he said, voice low, sharp at the edges. “Your... fan club seemed enthusiastic tonight.”

She didn’t turn. Just let the silence stretch, knowing it’d get to him. It always did.

“Fan club?” she echoed at last, tone light, teasing. “Sounds like jealousy, Skywalker.”

Anakin scoffed and folded his arms. “Interesting choice of company tonight. You always did like the dramatic types.”

She turned, one brow lifted. “You mean politicians?”

“I mean men who seem to forget that you are clearly out of their league.” He stepped closer, boots nearly silent, heat radiating off him in waves.

“You know,” she continued, tilting her head slightly to the side, “if I do have a fan club, I’m pretty sure you started it. That whole brooding stare-from-across-the-room thing? Very compelling.”

His jaw ticked. “Right. I’ll remember to blink next time I watch you let half the Senate fall in love with you.”

Her eyes glittered as she turned to face him. “You were watching.”

“You knew I was.”

“Practically vibrating,” she teased. “If you glared any harder, you’d have ignited the Chancellor’s carpet.”

The Force crackled faintly between them, quiet, intimate, like the brush of fingers on bare skin. He didn’t have to reach for her emotions; they poured into him like sunlight and wildfire. She was amused. Charged. Testing him.

She took a step closer. Barely there, but it was enough. “Maker, you’re jealous,” she murmured, delighted at how much tension it was in his jaw and arms. “That’s adorable.”

That did it.

In one smooth, sudden motion, Anakin pressed her back into the shadows of the balcony, out of sight. Her breath caught as the cold stone met part of her spine and his body followed, flush against hers, every line of him pressed with unrelenting intent, the warmth of his palm burning the small of her back. His metallic hand caught her jaw, tilting her face up, not rough, but firm.

His eyes burned gold in the dark as the shadows wrapped them in silence, covering their secret.

“Do you know how hard it is not to touch you when they do?” he hissed, breath hot against her cheek. “Not to shout that you’re mine?”

She smiled slowly, challenging. “You don’t need to shout.”

He growled softly, teeth clenched. “Right, because you’re the one who loves to be loud.”

She didn’t deny it. “I love to shout your name,” she purred as her fingers found his belt, tugging him even closer.

Their mouths crashed together in a kiss that had no business being soft. It was hot, messy, desperate, brutal in its restraint. Tongues sliding, biting, fighting for dominance, hands gripping wherever they could, pulling the other deeper, like the weeks apart hadn’t worn their restraint down to shreds.

He groaned into her mouth when she bit his lip, and she gasped when he pressed his big leg slid between hers with sinful precision, and Anakin swallowed the sound greedily.

The world outside didn’t exist. There was only this, this fire, this want, this ache they weren’t allowed to name. And the Force around them swirled, tight and humming, their shared emotions tangling like limbs in the dark. Possession. Desire. Frustration. Love, blistering and untouchable.

They kissed like they were starving. Like they might not get the chance again. Like it wasn’t enough to be his in secret, she wanted to be his in blood, in breath, in everything.

When they finally pulled apart, panting, her lipstick smudged, his hair a mess, and her dress rumpled, he still didn’t move.

He leaned his forehead to hers, eyes closed, hand on her cheek now, softer. But the tremble in his chest hadn’t gone.

“You are mine,” Anakin whispered.

Somewhere inside, he knew this was dangerous.

But her hand running in his hair, tugging softly, her lips swollen and smirking beneath his, and the feeling of her emotions bleeding into his own, her heart thudding against his. “Always.”

It all made him reckless.

Made him Anakin.

The halls of the Jedi Temple bathed in a golden wash of sunlight that stretched through high windows. It was a sanctuary, quiet and disciplined, above any kind of distraction.

Anakin stood with his arms crossed, flanked by a line of teen knights finishing saber drills under his supervision. The hum and clash of practice blades echoed through the open-air courtyard, mid morning sun painting golden light across the pale stone floors.

He was focused, they all were. Until he wasn’t anymore.

A tug. It started like a subtle itch in his chest. That familiar flutter of energy in the Force that only she caused. His posture shifted almost imperceptibly. Then came the whispers. The laughter. The telltale shift in attention that shouldn’t be happening in a Temple.

Anakin turned and there she was. She had always made a mockery of Jedi rules just by simply existing.

She moved through the courtyard like a comet, bright, elegant, entirely out of place and somehow right there. The sun kissed her skin and made her glow. Hair swept back, face glowing, wearing that rich blue gown that fitted her like a globe and stole breaths left and right.

Poor young Jedis, they barely stood a chance.

He watched, arms still crossed, as they began to trip over themselves for her, far too eagerly.

A taller knight stumbled forward, lightsaber already off, bowing too low. “Senator, would you care for a demonstration?”

Another, younger, grinned, straightening his robes with unnecessary flair, puffed up his chest and opened his mouth to talk, but was cut short by a third that stepped in beside her, charming and overly familiar. “Senator,” he said, smirking, offering his arm. “Perhaps I could escort you to the Grand Hall? The Temple’s layout can be disorienting, after all.”

“Actually,” another interrupted, “I was just about to take my morning walk, can I show you the gardens?”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. The younger knights, barely past their trials, surrounded her like moths to flame. Soon, he was sure the entire practice floor was about to break in spontaneous combat displays.

They were all smiles and flushed cheeks, tripping over each other for a chance to impress her but all she did was smile politely, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement.

Anakin moved, dangerously calm, all coiled control and silent warning. The kind of movement that sliced through space like a saber unsheathed, needing no sound to be final. He stepped into view like a storm rolling over a bright sky. Shadows clung to his silhouette, jaw set, blue eyes hard. He towered over the young knights who were still mid-stammer and mid-swoon.

Her eyes found his instantly and a smile, bright, amused, knowing exactly what this was, appeared on her tempting lips. “General Skywalker,” she greeted, honey-smooth and just this side of smug.

“Senator,” he said, voice all clipped politeness, but there was a glint in his eye only she could read. “You’re expected elsewhere. Please—come with me.”

It wasn’t a request. Not really.

She tilted her head, clearly entertained, and followed without protest. Behind her, the poor knights stood shell-shocked and heartbroken.

Anakin took her the long way, through narrow passages and shadow-laced halls that only he would know. Hidden corridors carved into the Temple’s bones, tucked from sight and sound. No one followed. No one dared. No one ever did when he didn’t want them to.

The tension thrummed between them. Unspoken. Electric. She could feel it through the thread they never dared name. That quiet, intimate current that pulsed like a live wire between their hearts. It made her skin prickle and her mouth curl.

“You’re brooding,” she said lightly, brushing his hand with hers.

“They were drooling,” he replied, jaw clenched, walking too fast.

She laughed softly. “You’re a menace.” Force humming quietly between them in familiar warmth.

He didn’t deny it. Just opened the door to his quarters and tilted his head towards the inside. His eyes burned hotter than the twin suns. “They were idiots.”

“They were children,” she said, shrugging off her shawl. “It was flattering, sure. But harmless.”

She stepped into his space and reached for his tunic, smoothing invisible wrinkles just for the excuse to touch him.

His hands found her waist like magnets, urgent, desperate. Like his world only started spinning when she was close. Like he’d been starving for the feel of her. “You’re mine,” he muttered, voice rough, low.

The second she pressed against him, the tension snapped. His shoulders dropped and his breath hitched. She always did this to him, only she ever could.

The smile she gave him lit up every star in his chest.

“Possessive much?” she teased, lifting her gaze beneath her lashes. Her hand rested against his chest, gentle pressure just over his heart. “You’re lucky that’s sexy.”

“They don’t even see you,” he growled, lips brushing the edge of her jaw as he inhaled her. “Not really. Not like I do.”

Her fingers slid into his hair, threading through the waves of it, soft and slow. His anger began to dissolve under her touch.

“I know that,” she whispered, grounding him. “You don’t have to prove anything, Ani.” Her lips brushed his, featherlight. “I only have eyes for one Jedi Knight,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

A sharp breath left his lungs, forehead pressed to hers. He didn’t speak. Just stood there and felt her. Let her presence, her truth, her kiss soften all the edges. As it always did.

“You’re the only one,” she said, voice softer now, brushing her lips against his. “The only one who gets to take me home.”

He said nothing. He just clenched his jaw and looked at her like she was the entire galaxy, beautiful, untouchable, and he didn’t know how to protect her from it without claiming her. But Anakin was ready to go to the end of time to keep her safe, even if it meant destroying himself in the process.

She kissed him, soft and slow, with reverence, her thumb brushed along his jaw and his hands finally moved. One slid around her lower back, the other tangled in her hair, cradling her like something both sacred and dangerous.

“You were planning to come early,” he said, voice rasping low. “Just to see me.”

She smiled against his lips. “Took you long enough to figure it out, my love.”

He kissed her, deeper, hungrier. Less about proving, more about having. Reverence disguised as hunger. Possession disguised as devotion.

They didn’t speak again for a while. Not when she tugged him toward his bed. Not when his hands ran down her back like he was mapping out the constellations of her skin. Not when his mouth marked her skin like scripture. Not when she gasped his name like it anchored her. Not when he murmured her name like a prayer. And definitely not when the Force pulsed around them, holding the world at bay.

She had come early and now, thanks to him, she’d come more than once… and would definitely be late to her meeting, with love bites and traces of him in places only he could see later in the night.

But that had always been the danger, with her, time bent, it didn’t really matter. The world waited. Only she existed.

And if anyone asked, well, he was General Skywalker. And no one dared question him.

She was trying to work. Key word, trying. Because trying didn’t stand a chance when Anakin Skywalker was in the room. Her focus kept going to him.

He wasn’t even doing anything, not really. Just existing, sprawled across the soft seating like it was his throne, golden and smug. His presence filled the space like a storm fills the horizon, vast and crackling, impossible to ignore. She could feel him under her skin, behind her ribs, humming through her bloodstream even with five feet and a desk between them.

And he knew it, of course he did, he could feel the effect he had on her.

“You know,” he said casually, leaning back and resting the back of his head in his intertwined fingers, “we should go away.”

She didn’t look up from her datapad. “Go away?”

“A vacation.” He was already picturing it, voice wrapped in sunlight. “Just the two of us. There’s a place, far, far from here, remote, beautiful, where no one would recognize us.” He looked at her. “It will be like we are an actual couple instead of Senator and Jedi.”

Her fingers paused above the screen, the weight of the idea pressing into her chest like warmth. She could see it too, for a moment. Feel it like a dream she wanted to believe in.

“I would love nothing more,” she said honestly. “But I can’t, Ani.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” he sat up, affronted, like she’d personally insulted the sun. “It’s two weeks. The Senate can survive without you. Miraculously, I know.”

She sighed, still not looking at him. “I’m sure it can. But I have propositions to review, bills to finalize, votes to prepare. Important meetings—”

He stepped around her desk and popped a dramatic hip like the galaxy's most petulant god. “More important than me?”

She narrowed her eyes, slow and sharp. “You know exactly what you mean to me.”

“Do I?” he said dramatically, crossing his arms and turning around like a tragic holo actor. “Because right now it feels like my heart is being shoved to the bottom of your schedule.”

She let out a breath and leaned back in her chair, folding her hands across her stomach as she studied him.

“Our love is everything to me,” she said carefully. “But my work matters too. It matters for people who don’t have the luxury of sneaking away. Our work matters, Anakin. What we do matters.”

“To me there’s nothing more important than you,” he said standing there with his back to her, arms crossed like a storm cloud, radiating disappointment in dramatic waves.

She stared at his back, lips twitching. “That better not be a pout.”

“No,” he grumbled, “it’s… noble heartbreak.”

She laughed softly, Maker help her, she adored this ridiculous man. “You’re such a menace.”

“And yet here you are,” he said, not turning around. “Still not on vacation with me.”

She stood, walked towards him and slid her hands around his waist, resting her chin between his shoulder blades. “What can I do to prove to you that you matter the most to me?”

“The damage is already done,” he said with great theatrical flair.

A laugh almost escaped her lips, but she pushed it back, and in a swift motion she stood in front of him. Her fingers found his jaw, warm, strong, and tilted his face down to hers.

“My sweet sweet Ani,” she whispered, her lips slow, hot, reverent, against his, making him melt, just a little. “If you want proof,” she murmured, “then let me show you what you mean to me.”

She kissed him, soft and deep, hands threading through his hair possessively, it silenced every protest he thought about making.

The kiss was heated, frantic, like they’d been starving for each other and finally allowed to feast. It was instant combustion. No slow burn, no delicate teasing. Just raw need, all fire and ache and knowing. He exhaled into her mouth, his hands tangled in her hair, then moved down to her waist, clutching like gravity itself had shifted and he was grounding himself.

She tasted like stars and defiance. He kissed her like she was air and flame all at once. The fire she lit inside him was hers alone to command.

When her mouth grazed his neck, what was left of his composure unraveled like silk and his lips met hers again. He walked them back, blindly, not breaking the kiss, not once, her mouth still pressed to his, until she hit the bookshelf. He pinned her there, one hand cradling her head so she wouldn’t knock into the shelves. Books toppled behind them like falling stars as his mouth found her throat, her collarbone, her name falling from his lips like a prayer he’d been dying to say.

She gasped, breathless and burning, and he kissed her harder, like he needed to brand himself into her soul.

Then he moved again, his hands were already back on her, mapping the lines of her body like sacred territory. He knew every curve, every reaction, how she’d shiver when he kissed just below her jaw, how her breath caught when his fingers traced her spine. They collided again, lips bruising, hands insistent.

But it wasn’t just need, it was knowing. The kind of knowing that came from worship and war, from battles fought side by side and promises whispered in the dark.

When the desk hit the backs of her thighs, he lifted her onto it, his free hand shooting out to sweep everything off the surface in one violent motion, datapads, files, a stylus, a small potted plant, all crashing to the floor as if the whole galaxy could wait while his was mouth still on hers, and she pulled him in like gravity had given up and left only them.

They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, sharp gasps, soft moans, whispered names, a symphony of want and devotion echoing off polished wood and walls that had seen too much and still not enough.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, her heels locking at the small of his back, pulling him into her, into this, and he thrust into her, the sound she made shattered him. Her head fell back, exposing her throat, and he kissed it reverently, like a knight bent before a goddess.

She was wrapped around him, tangled in his body like ivy on stone. Her hands were in his hair, his tunic, her voice in his ear, guiding him, worshipping him. His mouth dragged over her neck, her chest, every place that made her tremble.

His hands moved over her body like he knew every inch of her in his bones, because he did. He didn’t fumble. He didn’t guess. He knew her like he knew the hilt of his saber, like breath, like instinct. He knew what would make her gasp, what would make her moan, what would unravel her completely. And she gave herself to it, to him, because she knew him just the same.

When the desk groaned in protest, he lifted her into his arms, and she laughed breathlessly against his mouth as he carried her to the little velvet sofa, limbs tangled, breathing ragged. He continued to worship her there, whispering her name like it was a secret spell that bound the universe together. She pulled him in with her eyes, with her hands, with the soft, broken sound she only ever made for him.

Every movement, every sound, every glance between them was instinct, history, devotion. They didn’t have to speak. They knew.

And when they finally collapsed on the floor, sweaty, undone, breathless and wrecked and more whole than ever, he hovered over her, brushing damp hair from her face, his heart pounding against hers.

“You are everything to me,” she whispered, cupping his cheek.

His lips curved into a crooked smile as he pressed his forehead to hers. “No,” he murmured. “We’re everything.”

The gala was crowded, loud, and glittering with too much fake gold and not enough sincerity. She floated through it like she always did, charming, gracious, intelligent. Every word laced with purpose and diplomacy. She was dazzling, magnetic. Untouchable.

Anakin had been watching her from across the room, he always is, with admiration, with love blossoming in his chest, but tonight his jaw was clenched so tightly it could shatter in any moment.

Senator Vanto of Andosha was practically glued to her side, as he had seemed to be lately. He had been circling for weeks like a blood-slicked nexu. It started with a look across the Senate, followed by sugar-drenched pleasantries echoing in marble halls and smiles that lasted a second too long, then a fleeting compliment with a lingering hand on her back. Then he started to get more bold, a too-close whisper over a datapad, every time she laughed the man leaned in closer, taking every possible opportunity to have a hand on her, his eyes devouring her like a predator savoring the kill.

Anakin had seen it all, every touch, every glance from the Senator over the last few weeks, and it burned through him like acid, each and every single time, and she didn’t see it. Or worse, she refused to.

Now, in that glittering cage, every time he even breathed close to her, every time she flashed that too-perfect public smile, Anakin’s vision blurred at the edges. And when the senator started parading around with a hand on the small of her back, his filthy hand on her smooth velvety skin, fingers grazing the open back of her gown like he had the right, like he could, Anakin’s blood boiled.

And she, she laughed, not her real laugh, the one she gave him in quiet moments beneath tangled sheets, but the polite one she wore in public. It didn’t matter. It burned all the same.

Without a word, he turned on his heel, strides clipped and purposeful. He didn’t care who saw. Let the whole damn Senate speculate. Let them whisper. He didn’t care. He launched his fighter and left.

By the time she got home, the apartment was dark. Cold. But not silent. Anakin was there, pacing like a caged animal, shoulders tight with barely restrained fury.

She didn’t even get her shoes off before the storm hit. “Something wrong Ani?” she asked, the door barely clicking shut behind her.

He turned, the heat in his eyes sparking like wildfire. “You really have to ask?”

She blinked at him, confused, tension curling at the edge of her spine. “I don’t understand.” She frowned, “If you’re upset about something, say it. Don’t just, brood,” she said, unwinding the earrings from her lobes.

“I’m not brooding,” he snapped. “I’m trying very hard not to explode.”

She scoffed. “Well, you’re doing a terrible job.”

“Just like you were at keeping Senator Vanto’s filthy hands off you,” he said, sarcasm dripping like venom.

Her breath caught. “Are you really going to start again?” she snapped, looking at him through the mirror in the room, pulling the pins from her hair, letting it tumble over her back. “I’ve told you, he’s a colleague. That’s all.”

Anakin stood dead center in the room, arms stiff at his sides, fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white. “A colleague who practically breathes down your neck every time you’re in the same room. And you let him!”

Her laugh was cold, sharp. “Let him? You think I let him?”

“I don’t think,” he said, voice jagged. “I saw you with my own eyes!”

“I was doing my job!” she said loudly, turning towards him. “Talking, negotiating, building rapport, which is what I’ve always done. What do you want me to do, Anakin? Be rude? Push him away in front of the entire Senate chamber just to make you feel better? Throw a drink in his face and declare I belong to you?”

“I’m asking you to see it,” he bit out. “He touches you like he owns you.”

“I don’t belong to anyone!” she yelled, sharply and coldly.

“I thought you said you were mine,” he said, lower now, his voice breaking at the edges.

“I’m not a possession, Anakin.”

“No,” he said, quieter, rawer. “But you are mine, just as I’m yours, because we chose each other. Because what we have is real. And he’s trying to take you from me,” he said, touching his chest.

Her laugh then wasn’t cold, it was shattered. “You sound insane.”

He stepped closer, too close. “And you sound blind.”

The room froze.

Her face hardened, voice tightening like she was holding back something sharp. “Do you hear yourself right now? He’s not the problem here, Anakin. You are.”

That cracked something in him, clean through the middle, cracking his chest open.

“No,” he said, voice rising. “I’m the one who’s stuck waiting while he gets to stand beside you, hover over you, touch you. Me, the man that has loved you since the first time he saw you, who would burn the galaxy down just to keep you safe, gets crumbs behind closed doors! So excuse me if I’m sick of pretending this doesn’t bother me!”

Her heart stung like it had been slapped. “You think this is easy for me? Hiding, lying, splitting myself in two just to make this work—”

“Then maybe it’s not worth it,” he snapped.

She flinched, like he’d hit her. Her mouth opened, then closed, her voice caught behind the pressure building in her chest.

The silence that followed was instant and total. The air turned to glass between them, fragile, sharp, suffocating, waiting to shatter.

Her voice dropped to just a whisper. “Is that really how you feel?”

He faltered. He didn’t mean it. But pride, stupid, stubborn pride, held his tongue hostage and wouldn’t let him soften. “Maybe it is.”

Her breath hitched, then turned away from him, jaw clenched so tight it trembled. “Then go,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, holding herself together with the last thread of her control she had before shattering.

Anakin didn’t move, said nothing. His jaw ticked, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. He stared at her back for a long moment, at the way her shoulders rose and fell like she was holding it together, barely.

He wanted to take it back. Maker, he wanted to. He wanted to cross the galaxy that appeared between them and fix it, he wanted to hold her and not go.

But he didn’t, and instead turned on his heel and walked out, again. Jumping on his fighter and going away, leaving her in the quiet wreckage of their home.

The silence echoed through the apartment like a thunderclap as she stood there, still in her gown, her earrings in her hand, hair loose caressing her back, and shaking. The lights hummed softly above her. The room felt cavernous without him in it.

And all she could do was stand there, alone, tears pulling in her eyes, surrounded by the wreckage of what they’d built, and wonder, maybe this time, they’d broken something they couldn’t fix.

A full day passed.

She hadn’t moved much, buried under blankets, curtains drawn to shut out the light that mocked her with its warmth. Her datapad buzzed every few hours with messages and alerts, unanswered. The Senate could wait. The galaxy could wait. For the first time in years, she let herself unravel. The senator, the leader, the unshakable voice of reason, reduced to someone wrapped in silence and tears. There was the steady hum of sorrow beneath her skin and the raw ache of something lost, sobs coming and going in waves, breaking through moments of numb silence. She tried to hate him. Tried to hate herself. Neither feeling stuck. Only grief for what might already be gone did.

By late afternoon, the tears had run dry, replaced by something hollow. She pulled herself out of bed, her muscles aching like she had fought a war in her sleep. The shower steamed the mirror, the water was hot, steady, cleansing, grounding her just enough to feel like maybe she could start over.

Maybe.

But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

She was wrapping her robe around her when the knock came. She frowned, confused. No one was supposed to visit. The few people who might, had the good sense not to.

When she opened the door, Senator Vanto stood there.

Concern painted across his features like a poor artist’s attempt at sincerity. “You weren’t at the Senate today,” he said, stepping inside uninvited. “People were asking. I was worried that you perhaps were ill.”

She blinked, unsettled. “I... wasn’t feeling well.”

He smiled, taking a slow, familiar step toward her. “I figured as much. I thought maybe I could help. Maybe you needed someone to talk to.” His eyes dragged over her, landing on her exposed collarbone where the robe dipped. “Or just someone.”

A chill slid down her spine and she tightening the piece of clothing around her.

She moved toward the sitting area, creating distance, hoping he’d take the hint. “Thank you for your concern, but really, I’m fine.”

“I know,” he said smoothly, following her, “but maybe it’s time you stop pretending you don’t need anyone.” He looked her over, the flush skin, her bare legs, her wet hair. “You need someone who can take care of you,” he reached out, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face.

She stepped back, discomfort. Her skin prickled, but not the way it did when Anakin touched her. There was no warmth here, no tenderness. Just a creeping, nauseating wrongness.

“I said I’m fine.” Again, she rounded the sitting area and tried to put as much distance between them as she could.

But he followed, again, too closely, too comfortably. With every inch she gave, he took more.

“You’ve always kept yourself surrounded by politics, war, rules, men who are never really there for you. Jedi who disappear when it matters most.” He said it with meaning, with venom. “But not me,” he sat and pushed her to sit with him. “I wouldn’t leave you alone, not even for a second.”

Her knees hit the cushions before her mind registered what had happened. Her stomach turned. “Vanto—”

“I mean it.” His voice dropped. “You need a man who’s strong enough to handle you. Someone who knows what to do with a woman like you.” His eyes drifted down. “Someone who knows how to touch you.” His hand landed on her thigh, firm, possessive.

Her blood froze. The hand was not delicate, not gentle. It burned. Her skin crawled under it.

“I can give you what he never could.” His voice slithered around her. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

She tensed, tried to inch away, but his hand gripped tighter. “Let go of me,” she pushed his hand away. “It’s time for you to go,” she said, standing sharply.

He stood too, moving in close, cornering her. “Come on, darling,” he said with a twisted smirk on his lips.

She backed up. Her robe slipped slightly off one shoulder again, she yanked it up with trembling fingers.

“You can stop pretending now. No one’s watching.” His hand caught her arm.

She yanked back. “Don’t touch me.”

But he didn’t stop and his grip tightened. “I’ve seen the way you look at me—”

“There’s no way I look at you,” she snapped, breath catching. “Let go of me.”

“No more playing game,” he smirked again.

“Stop it—” she twisted, trying to break free.

“No more hiding.” His other hand gripped her side, fingers digging through the thin robe like claws.

She gasped. “Please, no.”

The fear started creeping up her throat like acid.

Her skin was on fire where he touched her, not in the way Anakin lit her nerves with heat and reverence, but like poison seeping into her bones.

“You’ve got no one here but me.”

She whimpered, voice cracking. “I said no—please don’t—”

He leaned in, tried to kiss her.

She twisted, shoved against him, her voice shaking, heart in her throat. “I said no—!”

And then—The door burst open with a crash.

A wind tore through the room as if the stars themselves had followed him in.

Anakin stood there, eyes burning, jaw locked, the fury of a thousand suns radiating off of him. His voice was low, guttural, animalistic.

“Get. Away. From her.”

Vanto startled, letting go just long enough for her to stumble back. She shoved him hard, scrambling to the other side of the room.

And before she could even breathe, Anakin crossed the room in three strides. The Force lifted Vanto off the ground like he weighed nothing, like a ragdoll, choking him mid-air. His feet kicked helplessly as Anakin stalked forward.

“You dare to touch her,” Anakin growled, his voice was cold. Controlled, but barely.

He threw him against a wall and with his free hand, took his lightsaber and ignited with a snap-hiss of blue death. “You hurt her.” His face was carved in stone, his rage blistering, terrifying, as he pointed with his saber at him.

“Try fighting like a man,” Vanto stood up, coughing. “Without your Jedi tricks.”

Anakin’s lips twitched. A slow, dangerous smile, not at all kind. “Oh, it would be my pleasure.”

The saber shut off with a snap, and he launched forward.

The fight was brutal. No rules, no honor, just raw and animalistic fury unleashed in the flicker of a heartbeat.

She stood frozen, robe clenched tightly around her trembling frame, breath caught in her chest as she watched the man she loved, her sweet Ani, unravel.

Anakin was a storm, all fire and anguish and vengeance, striking with the kind of force that only came from years of buried grief, unspoken heartbreak and possessive love in every strike. Metal met flesh with a sickening precision. Blood splattered. Vanto swung wildly and desperate, landing a few hits, but they barely registered.

Anakin was relentless, built for combat. Designed for it. He wasn’t born like that, for war, but he was made into it. War had carved him into a weapon, he was honed by pain, but underneath the fury still lived the boy who once only wanted to protect the people he loved. And now, seeing her hurt, that boy was screaming and the man he had become answered with rage.

“Anakin, stop!” she cried, breathless, panic bleeding into every syllable. “Don’t—please, he’s not worth it!”

In the chaos, as she tried to break them apart, to stop the devastation, Vanto’s fist swung. It wasn’t meant for her. But it found her anyway. It hit her, colliding with her cheek, sharp and brutal.

The sound, sickening, wrong, echoed through the room like a thunderclap. She gasped, stumbled, a cry of pain tearing from her throat as she crashed into the side table and fell. The thud of her body hitting the floor split the air.

Everything stopped. He punched her. She was on the ground, pain flashing in her glassy eyes, blood on her hand and a cut in her porcelain skin.

The sound she made, that wounded sound, more raw than war, more real than anything he’d ever heard, broke something in him so violently that his breath left him in a single, strangled gasp.

The world narrowed and all he saw was her, his word had fallen hurt and all his anger turned to something worse.

She was hurt. Because he hadn’t stopped it. Because he hadn’t been fast enough. Because he had left and was almost too late, again.

That was it, he snapped.

Anakin tackled Vanto with everything he had, not as a Jedi, but as a man who had seen the only thing that kept him sane, the source of his happiness, hurt and afraid. There was no humanity left as he charged. The punches came fast, the anger white-hot. He didn’t hear Vanto’s protests, and didn't care because all he saw was a danger to her. He threw him across the room, pinned him again, and hit him harder.

All he felt was heartbreak made flesh, striking out at the thing that dared hurt what mattered most to him.

Every hit said: You don’t touch her. Every hit said: You don’t get to make her afraid. Every hit said: She is mine to protect.

Only when Vanto was unmoving, groaning, bleeding, broken on the floor, did Anakin stop.

He stood there for a moment, chest heaving, fists trembling with fury. His eyes were wild, dark with something primal, something unbearable. A small whimper reached his ears and he turned around. She was still on the floor, broken and shaken.

The door opened again. Security. Too late.

Anakin rushed to her side, kneeling, hands shaking as he cupped her face. “Are you okay?” His voice cracked, desperate. “Look at me. Tell me you’re okay, please.”

He touched her cheek, gently, like she was made of light and grief and might vanish or shatter if he pressed too hard, and she whimpered at the contact. It wasn’t fear this time, nor pain. But because something in her had broken open, and he was the only one who could hold it together.

“This is all on me,” he breathed, horror and panic folding into his voice. His eyes burned, rimmed red. “Maker, forgive me—” His breath stuttered. “I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve—”

Her wide, tear-glossed eyes met his. “You came back,” she whispered, voice so small it broke him. Her trembling fingers touched his cheek, catching a tear as it slid down his face. “You came back right when I needed you.”

His face twisted with emotion, grief, relief, love that nearly broke him in two. “Of course I did,” he choked out. “I’ll always come back.”

Her lip quivered. “Don’t leave me again,” she pleaded. Her voice was broken, raw, but somehow softer.

He closed his eyes, forehead resting against hers, as if that could fuse them together and keep the world from breaking them again.

“Never,” he whispered, voice raw and aching. “My love, never.”

Behind them, security restrained Vanto’s broken, barely-conscious body. There was shouting. Movement. But none of it touched her. None of it touched him. But none of it mattered.

She leaned into Anakin’s touch, into the only thing that felt real, like it was the only thing anchoring her to this world. And maybe it was.

“Just hold me,” she whispered. “Hold me like only our love matters in this world. Hold me like only you know how to.”

Even if the fire of his rage still clung to him like a second skin, he was hers, and she was his. He was the safest place she had known.

He was home.

Without a word, Anakin gathered her into his arms, carefully, reverently, as if she were made of sacred things. He held her like she was the only truth he’d ever known, the only fight that ever mattered.

And in that moment, with her curled against his chest, with her tears soaking his tunic and his heartbeat steady against her ear…

The galaxy could’ve ended, and neither of them would have noticed.

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hinatsu · 3 months ago

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prank calling husband!atsumu but it's literally impossible to get him mad at you bc he just adores you so, so much :3

but today?? you had the ultimate plan. the one that’d surely crack him. there was no way he wouldn’t at least get a little ticked over this one. because this man loves his truck. you’re already grinning as the phone rings, curled up on the couch with your phone pressed to your cheek, and ofc he picks up on the second ring.

“hey, sugar, whatcha need?”

you chew your lip, shoulders shaking as you try not to laugh. “honey, i—i think i did somethin’ wrong… ‘m sorry.” you throw in a pathetic little sniffle, turning your head to wipe a nonexistent tear like you’re up for an oscar.

“i ain’t never mad at ya. what’s wrong? darl’? fuck, don’t cry—”

you can hear the panic settle in. the soft shuffle of his chair. maybe even his keys already in hand. the guilt nips, sure, but the bit’s too good. you power through.

“i was just tryna surprise you… so i filled up your truck.”

you mute the phone real quick to cackle, slapping a hand over your mouth before unmuting again like nothing happened.

“i j’ used the green one! it was pretty,” you say, voice wobbling like you’re on the verge of tears. “but now the truck won’t move.. ‘m sorry baby..”

there’s a pause. a deep inhale. and then—

a sigh of... relief?? ffs. “oh, baby,” his voice is so soft you almost break again. “you damn near scared me half to death." he chuckles, voice sounding so sickeningly sweet. "it’s alright, darl’. you were just tryna help me out, yeah? s’okay. just don’t touch nothin’ else, okay? i’ll come take care of it. ‘s not your fault.”

you blink. “you’re not mad?”

he scoffs, like it was a stupid question. “are you kiddin'? ‘course not! i’d pour diesel in that truck m’self if you asked me to. shit—i’m on my way now. sit tight for me, yeah?”

you choke on a laugh. “tsumu—tsumu wait, i’m kidding—baby, i’m joking! i didn’t touch the truck!”

silence.

“…you little shit. are you doing that tiktok crap again?”

#cami writes ★#hubby tsumu.. my dream #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyuu #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x y/n #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu smut #atsumu smut

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taeslarityy · 1 year ago

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outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night.

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic.

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls.

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely.

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park.

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that.

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night.

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm.

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home.

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity.

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds?

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa.

You also adored the fuck out of Joel.

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock.

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman.

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts.

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.”

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day.

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. You’re stayin’ over.”

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided.

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.”

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by.

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home.

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet.

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm.

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks.

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing.

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already.

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee.

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it.

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name.

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house.

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted.

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?”

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you.

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest.

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long.

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

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gf2bellamy · 4 months ago

Note

Hii! I am in love with your writing! Specially the sunshine!reader x Spencer, I don’t know if you are taking new requests, if you aren’t feel free to completely ignore this, but I would love to see your take in one of the BAU member (maybe Emily) sort of call out Spencer in the “soft spot” he has for reader. And he’s all like I don’t???? But ofc they would notice this bc 1. They are profilers 2. They just know him. I can imagine Emily’s speech on how it’s ok to let people in and how she thinks they would be good for each other 🥰 or idk something better you can come up

Anyways I just want to thank you for sharing your writing with us 🤍✨

good — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: postprison!spencer so mentions of insecurities in regards to that a/n: hiii !! this is such a wonderful idea <3 i wasnt entirely sure if you wanted post!prison spencer but i thought it fit your request best so i hope thats alright !! <33

Emily narrowed her eyes as she studied the scene unfolding before her. There you and Spencer were, sitting close together in the back of the jet.

Spencer was leaning in slightly, helping you solve a crossword puzzle. She watched as his fingers brushed yours gently when he took the pen from your hand, as he wrote the next answer. You glanced up at him, as if you weren't sure whether to be grateful or flustered. He’d practically solved the whole thing in the blink of an eye, but instead of simply finishing it, he waited for you to catch up, his gaze flickering to yours every so often with a small, encouraging smile.

Emily couldn’t help but shake her head as she looked out the window again.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen the two of you like this, closer than anyone else on the team. She could see it in Spencer’s eyes, he had a soft spot for you, no question. The way he took his time with you, how he tried to make you laugh or ease your stress, it was so different from how he interacted with the rest of them.

And as much as she had grown to appreciate the dynamic, Emily had to admit, she was getting tired of watching both of you dance around the obvious. Emily couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Spencer smile this much, this freely. It had been a long road since his release from prison, and though he was slowly piecing himself back together, it was clear that you played a significant role in his recovery. The way he would light up at the smallest of gestures from you, or the way he would seek out your company without hesitation, it was a refreshing change.

Her thoughts were interrupted by your laughter as Spencer cracked a joke about one of the crossword clues.

Emily’s eyes flicked to the two of you just in time to see your shoulder brush against his, your body language open, comfortable.

But it wasn’t just your laughter that caught Emily’s attention, it was the look Spencer gave you in that moment. His eyes lingered on you, soft and warm. Emily noticed the way his lips curled upward ever so slightly. She sighed inwardly, leaning her head against the seat. She wasn't sure what either of you were waiting for, but she hoped, for both of your sakes, that you would stop pretending like nothing was happening between you.

The next instance was when Emily had had enough.

The moment you and Spencer walked into the bullpen together, Emily's gaze immediately locked onto the way he had a hand resting casually on the small of your back. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. She knew she wasn’t imagining it, there was no mistaking the way Spencer was always hovering just a little bit closer to you, the way his body seemed to naturally gravitate toward yours.

“Do you want some coffee?” Spencer asked you. You hesitated for a moment as you approached your desk, dropping your bag down with a soft sigh. You glanced at the stack of files waiting for you.

“Yes, I have like 20 files to get through,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m going to need that coffee.”

Spencer smiled. “I’ll make you one,” he said, his tone soft as he set his own bag down on his desk. He didn’t waste a moment before heading toward the break room, but not before he threw one last comment over his shoulder. “I’ll help you with some of your files later.”

He didn’t wait for your response, though Emily could already predict what it would have been, a quick “No, that’s fine.”

You didn’t want him to do too much for you, but Spencer had this way of offering help, and even though you would have rather tackled the work yourself, you knew it would have been pointless to argue with him. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to slip out as you watched him leave. You turned your attention back to the files, your hand instinctively covering your mouth to keep yourself from letting out the giggle that bubbled up in your chest.

Emily saw her opportunity and took it.

Without hesitation, she walked into the breakroom, where Spencer was carefully pulling two mugs from the cupboard.

One was your favorite, white with a print of Snoopy lying on his red doghouse. Spencer had gotten it for you on your birthday after overhearing you talk about how much you loved Snoopy as a kid. The other mug was his, bright yellow, with an image of Woodstock perched happily on a branch. That one had been your gift to him.

Emily still remembered the way Spencer had reacted when he unwrapped it, his fingers brushing over the design as realization dawned on his face.

“Snoopy and Woodstock have to stay together,” you had said with a grin, eyes twinkling with amusement. For a moment, he had just stared at the mug, lips parted as if he couldn’t quite find the words. Then, without thinking, he had pulled you into a tight hug. You had stiffened for half a second, caught off guard, before melting into his embrace. Emily had caught the entire moment from across the room, sharing an exasperated look with JJ. The two of you were so painfully oblivious to what was right in front of you.

Now, standing in the breakroom, she cleared her throat.

“Morning, Spencer,” Emily greeted, reaching for a cup of her own.

Spencer, clearly lost in his own thoughts, blinked at her before nodding. “Morning, Emily.” He carefully poured coffee into the Snoopy mug first, taking his time, as if it was second nature to prepare yours before his own.

“Have a good weekend?” she asked casually, watching him with thinly veiled curiosity.

He glanced at her briefly before continuing his task. “Yeah. I was happy to have some days off,” he said with a small nod, carefully placing your cup aside before starting on his own. “You?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Emily replied, swirling her own coffee absentmindedly. She was biding her time, figuring out the best way to ease into the conversation she really wanted to have.

“Did you do anything fun?” she asked, the question innocent enough but leading somewhere more intentional.

Spencer shook his head. “Not really.”

Emily hummed. “You know, you should do something fun.”

Spencer finally glanced at her, a little suspicious now. He knew Emily too well to think she was just making small talk. She wasn’t one for casual, meaningless conversation. She didn’t say anything else right away, though. Instead, she took a slow sip of her coffee, eyes drifting through the breakroom window, settling on you.

You were sitting at your desk, chewing absentmindedly on the end of a pencil, clearly lost in thought. Your brows were furrowed as you studied whatever was in front of you, your lips pursed slightly. It was such a small, unconscious habit, but Spencer had noticed it long ago. He had seen you do it a dozen times when you were concentrating, and for some reason, it was something he always found himself captivated by.

Emily turned her gaze back to Spencer, and, just as she expected, his eyes were already on you.

And then, just as quickly as he had let himself get lost in the sight of you, he pulled himself away, dropping his gaze back to his coffee as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world.

Emily smirked. Gotcha.

“She’s good for you, you know,” Emily said, her voice softer now.

Spencer’s grip tightened slightly around the handle of his mug. He stared at her for a moment. Then, just as quickly, he looked away again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered.

Emily chuckled. “Spencer.”

He sighed, shaking his head, but Emily could tell he wasn’t annoyed. Just… hesitant.

“You should tell her,” she said, shrugging.

Spencer swallowed, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against the counter. “It’s not that simple,” he finally admitted.

Emily tilted her head. “Why not?”

Spencer didn’t answer. Not immediately, anyway. But he didn’t have to. Emily already knew.

She knew Spencer was afraid. Afraid of ruining what he had with you. Afraid that you didn’t feel the same way. Afraid that, after everything he’d been through, he wasn’t allowed to have something good.

"She likes you too, you know that, right?"

Spencer stilled, the metal spoon clinking softly against the ceramic mug as he hesitated. His grip on the spoon tightened slightly before he forced himself to continue stirring his coffee, feigning indifference.

“You don’t know that,” he muttered, his voice quieter than before.

Emily huffed. “Spencer, you’re a genius. Do you really expect me to believe that you haven’t noticed the way she looks at you? The way she leans into you when you talk, the way she lights up when you’re around?” She tilted her head, eyes sharp as she studied him. “She likes you, Spencer. And you like her. So why are you making this so complicated?”

Spencer swallowed, staring down into the dark liquid in his mug. “Because… because what if I ruin it?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but Emily heard him.

Her expression softened slightly. “You won’t.”

Spencer let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You don’t know that either.”

Emily sighed. She could see it now, the self-doubt, the hesitation, the fear that had been planted deep within him after everything that had happened. After losing so much. He was afraid of getting too close, afraid that if he let himself have this, it would eventually be taken from him, just like everything else.

Her voice softened. “Spence, it’s okay to let her in.”

He glanced up at her then, his eyes conflicted, torn between hope and uncertainty.

“She’s already in,” Emily continued. “You just haven’t let yourself admit it yet.”

Spencer exhaled, his shoulders slumping slightly.

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to let himself have this, have you. But that quiet voice in the back of his mind, kept telling him that if he did, he’d lose you too. Emily must have sensed his hesitation because she suddenly reached over and took the spoon from his hand, placing it on the counter.

“Talk to her,” she said simply. “Or don’t. But don’t sit here and pretend like this doesn’t exist. Because we both know it does.”

Spencer stared at her, then down at the two mugs once again.

Snoopy and Woodstock. A pair that was always meant to be together.

And then, before Emily could say anything else, he grabbed both mugs and walked out of the breakroom, straight toward you. Emily watched as Spencer placed the coffee in front of you. You barely even glanced at the mug before flashing him a wide, grateful smile as you wrapped your hands around the warm ceramic.

Spencer’s lips quirked into a soft smile, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than necessary. Emily caught the way his fingers twitched at his side, the way he hesitated, as if debating something in his head. Then, as if gathering every ounce of courage he had, he took a deep breath.

And then, he said something.

Emily couldn’t hear it from where she stood, but whatever it was made you freeze. Your mouth dropped open slightly, eyes widening in surprise.

For a brief, agonizing second, Spencer looked like he regretted saying it, his expression shifting into something nervous, almost panicked. His fingers flexed at his sides, waiting for you to react.

Then, suddenly, your face broke into a huge smile. The kind that made your eyes crinkle at the corners. The kind that answered whatever question Spencer had just asked.

You nodded. Quickly. Eagerly. Almost as if you couldn’t believe it had taken this long.

And Spencer, who had been watching you anxiously, grinned. A wide, relieved, genuine grin. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his whole body seeming to relax. His fingers tapped lightly against his leg before he instinctively reached up to push his hair behind his ear, a nervous habit that Emily had seen a million times before.

Only this time, it was different. This time, he was happy.

He glanced at Emily from the side, as if checking to see if she had seen everything unfold. Emily, still watching, simply smirked and shot him a small, knowing smile.

Finally.

#criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

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dilf-docs · 7 months ago

Text

Le Pedí Al Mar Y Al Sol Que Te Trajera

pedro pascal x younger fem!reader

summary: vacations are supposed to be fun! and with a hot older famous boyfriend? now we're really talking.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (yum), pwp, p. in v., fingering, pussy spanking (ooc i'm sorry i just want a man to do this to me), creampie, virgin!reader (sorry if this is kinda unrealistic for a first as i too i'm a virgin; in the curb we all fam), aftercare, spanglish ofc!!!

word count: 2,865 words

side note: so, i modified the request a bit bc idk pedro's friends like that (i just know omar apollo can tower over me wait what). check the og request here. reqs still open as we enter 2025! happy new year, dilf town citizens: pushed this drabble last minute as a lil' gift for you before the year ends! :) thank u sm for being part of it, my journey on tumblr is just getting started!!!!!!!!!!

Hace tiempo que quería yo sentir esto que siento.

They say dating a star and having to share him with everybody else is the hardest part, but to you, it's having both of your vacations occur simultaneously.

Finally, after months of shooting so many projects for the next year, your boyfriend is free.

Vacations are fun! They're supposed to be relaxing, especially after leading such a busy life as yours: juggling between work, studies and a relationship with world-renowned actor, Pedro Pascal. Yet, you can't help but feel nervous, fiddling with the loose strands of your skirt.

Pedro wants you to go alone, which means just the both of you: a little escape before Christmas Eve, as he and his friends have already planned their holiday together.

Doesn't matter how many times you tried to excuse yourself, he was determined to make you go with him. Besides, let's get real: it's not like you can say no to him. So now here he is, both of your passports in hand as you both are ready to board your plane to Mexico, where the rest of his friends will meet you a week later. Yes, more nerves to add on the schedule.

"If you don't quit that shaking of yours, I'll extend our vacation two more weeks" Pedro threatens once you're seated, but it's devoid of any malice. He's a bit far from you (he also insisted on the VIP flying part; you're just fine flying tourist, but can understand why he isn't), so you can't count on his touch to comfort you. "Didn't know you were afraid of planes"

You sigh, "I'm not"

"Ay, cariño. Are you afraid of me then?"

"No" you laugh nervously. You are, but not for the reasons he thinks.

It's the very first time the two of you will be fully alone. For obvious reasons, a whole week at the beach is much more intimate than just the dates you've been in. But here you are, already seeing the sand and water beneath you.

"Like what you see?" he jokes.

"Yeah" you look back at him, sincerity washing over the expression on your face. "I do"

If there is one thing you're sure of, is your love for Pedro. You'll just have to wait and see how this goes.

As of now, everything has gone well: sun, water, diving and lots of new photos and videos on your camera roll. You've gone swimming and danced on the bar of the hotel you're staying, some extra drinks on your system. You've also sunbathed under the same sun you've watched go down, in the most beautiful sunsets you've ever seen in your life.

But here comes the hardest part: the night. Sharing a bed isn't hard: it's something that's happened before, one time even staying in his house for two days, all because he insisted.

This time is different: the way his gaze lingers over your bare legs, the same way he's looked at them when the droplets of water slide down them. The way he licks his lips, like he's starving and the most deliciously tempting meal stands before him. Mantaining eye contact like it's some kind of dare, just as he's done since you've landed, using it to disarm you little by little.

You don't think you can't take it anymore.

You lay down on the bed, and he leaves the book he's reading on the night table next to him, all his attention directed towards you. Yeah, you're afraid, he can sense, but apparently not that afraid to wear a dainty nightwear that gives a delicious peek of your breasts.

"Something you want to say?" you ask, almost daringly so.

"Say no" voice low, barely a whisper that could come across a breeze of wind entering through the open window as it stirs the courtains. "Want, yes"

You gulp. "What do you want, then?"

Shouldn't taken the bait.

"You" comes quick, like it's the easiest answer there ever is.

The rest of his answer comes in the form of hungry lips capturing yours, devouring them in a clash of desire against your own, even struggling to breath due to the animalistic borderline savage way Pedro's eating you out, his tongue battling inside your mouth while trying to explore every corner just to taste all of you on his palate.

"Pedro" you moan his name out when he bites your lip with a bit too much force, metallic filling your taste buds. It's all so hot, and you're too turned on to think.

His roaming hands itch to touch every available spot of soft skin your body offers, tracing first through your collarbones, and then leaving the task for his lips to complete. There goes a trail of kisses that go down your neck, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin until it turns red. You whine against his hold, big hands keeping you under him, back pushed against the soft mattress and silk sheets.

You gasp for air, lost in the fire, when suddenly his forgotten hands touch you down there.

"Wait!" you shout, mentally slapping yourself.

"¿Qué pasó?" he exclaims, scared. "Did I hurt you?"

"N-no" you're quick to deny, voice wavering as you seat up on the bed. Your cheeks soon flush, as there's regret when you say. "I'm sorry"

"Sorry for what?" he tenderly cups your cheek. "Just tell me what happened"

"What happened is, I fucked up the vibe. I'm sorry, P. Didn't mean to stop you like that"

"¿No te estaba gustando, cariño?" he's questioning again.

"No" your answer is more firmly this time. His face morphs into a bit of hurt, and then you think your answer a bit more. "Ah, no. I mean, yes! I was liking it. I meant no as in no, it's not that why I stopped you"

"Then, why is it?" he grows a little impatient, but shows no such thing, rather focused on helping you out. "You know you can trust me, right?"

"I know" you smile sadly, insecurities washing over you like cold water.

"Then, tell me" he scoots closer, his perfume getting in your nostrils. Had he wore it again for this? God, what an evil little horny creature.

"I'm scared" you confess finally, the warmth of his receptiveness giving you a sense of security. His brown eyes soften, and you feel tears brim in the corner of your eyes.

"I know" he repeats your words, kissing you softheartedly, nothing compared to as before.

"No" you look directly at him, ready to take in every reaction his face will have. "I don't think you do"

"Amor, por favor-"

"I'm a virgin" you cut him off, panic rushing your answer.

"You are?" almost immediatly, giving no opportunity for silence to settle in.

You nod, slowly.

He sighs, sounding relieved. "And here I thought you didn't love me. Que te daba asco acostarte con un viejo como yo"

"No!" you deny hastily, then laugh. "Of course I love you, P. On the contrary, I was the one scared. Don't want to fuck it up on my first"

The energy changes again, as a flame sparks within your orbs. He looks surprised.

"Just because I said-" he cuts himself off. "Look, y/n, mi vida. I don't want to force you, yeah? I didn't know you hadn't- Listen, if you aren't ready, I'll understand"

"I am ready" clear and convinced, without a doubt.

His eyes circle between lust and love, "You want me to be your first, mmh baby?"

You nod, and he's back at the kissing and nibbling on your neck and collarbones.

"Please say it"

"I want you, Pedro. Quiero que seas mi primera vez"

Those sweet words of yours, an invitation not even the strongest man could deny.

"Let's start slow, yeah?" his fingers travel down to your panties under the nightwear, removing them and tossing them out of the bed, even with your pout. He kisses it off, wasting no time after to see your clit exposed. "Looking so sweet, angel. And needy" he gets closer, taking a better look at the wet mess that coats in between your thighs. He takes a whiff, intoxicated with the smell of your arousal dripping in waiting need. "Tell me if this is okay, yeah? I'll stop if it hurts"

Your breath hitches the moment his middle finger touches your puffy clit. Pedro runs his finger up and down, not adding much pressure to let you get used to it (kissing and eating each other out was all you had ever done). You whimper at the feeling as he repeats his action a few more times.

"Please, keep going" you plead, barely managing to not squirm at the overwhelming new sensations that shoot right through your cunt.

He begins to rub slow circles, making sure to add the right pressure onto your clit, then circling it, all while keeping eye contact, adoring the new expressions and sounds he's getting from you. You realize and shy away, embarrassed all of the sudden at the way he looks at you.

"Don't" he holds you by your chin with his free hand, "I want to know how you look when I please you"

You whimper, letting him do his own thing. He starts leaving sweet little kisses around your quivering pussy, enjoying the sight of your hole clenching at nothing.

"Think you can take more?" he asks, "want more?"

Two of his fingers dive straight in between your folds, coating them with your juices.

"Good girl" he praises when you only yelp, savouring the new feel of his digits inside of you. Then, he drags his fingers back to his mouth, tongue licking them clean. "Taste so sweet too"

"N-need more" you whine, desperate beneath him.

"Yeah?" This your first and you're already this greedy? I think I can get used to it" he laughs in adoration. "Let's try something better, yeah?"

Your body suddenly jolts, his big palm flat against your pussy. Pedro circles his whole palm across your cunt, middle finger pressing tightly onto it. You moan, back arching at the overstimulation.

He feels a little pervy, enjoying the way your tiny young body squirms beneath his caging body for of him. Nonetheless, he continues to rub you while you release more dirty sounds cascading out fo your filthy greedy lips. Your arousal keeps dripping like a broken pipeline, now smeared all over Pedro's palm, filling the room with slippery sounds.

"Mhm" you can't even speak, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure reducing you to a moaning mess.

Pedro slaps your pussy twice, wet smacks bouncing off the walls.

"That's my girl" he then gently blows on your swollen bud, pressing a light kiss on it after. "Ready for it?"

It meaning his hard tent hidden under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it. He sees the hesitation in your eyes, but you're quick to dissmiss it.

"Are you sure you are ready?"

"Just do it" you demand, without knowing the consequences of your words, or the effect you have on him. Overall.

With needy fingers, you're fast to strip him out of it, admiring the size as much as you admire his now sculpted body. Jesus, you could build a cult out of it.

"Now" he cups your cheeks, fingers digging onto the skin, "I want you to look at me when I fuck you, yes? Don't dare to look away"

Pedro positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance. Then, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry, trying to adjust to his size while your nails dig on his broad back, as he claims you, makes you his. Only his. Pedro'hi's hips snap forward with precision: every thrust is deliberate, each movement calculated to make your first as pleasurable as he can, despite the pain that's shown in your tears or the little drops of blood that fall onto the sheets.

"Shit" he pants, "tendremos que pagar por eso"

He grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he moans, your tight untouched walls now stretching to adapt to his girth, "like you were made for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he firmly holds you. Your vision goes foggy, mind numb at the burning and pleasing sensations. Despite that and lack of experience, you meet his every thrust, your bodies moving as one.

Your core contracts around him with every motion. "You fuck me so good" you mewl, music to his ears.

"I know, baby" he chuckles, "sólo lo mejor para mi princesa"

Fingers dig into your skin as he guides you with precision, right as he wants you to be. You feel the intensity of his deep inside of you with every movement, his hot laboured breath against your ear.

"Doing it so good" his voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine. "Just for me"

"Just for you" you mindlessly pant out, the sensation of having all of him inside you, nothing separating the skin from skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce with each motion, Pedro's eyes never leaving yours, dark orbs locked onto your gaze as you urge him to go faster, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusts to the new rhythm he's providing, rapidly obeying.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies clashing onto one another, flesh against flesh echoing softly.

"Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me" His words send a wave of pleasure crashing over you, making you moan loudly, your head falling back, "me tienes loco"

Pedro's weight grounds you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.

"Tell me you want this, us" the words catch you off guard. "Will you take all of me?"

"Yes" without a thought or doubt, answering as you whine and clutch at his shoulders with his more urgent thrusts. "All of you, always"

You notice his hips snapping forward, more energy as he pounts into you. "Good girl" praising you again, voice thick in arousal and rough, "so good for me"

Despite being your first, you can feel what would be your orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.

"Pedro!" you scream his name, body collapsing around him as you come, stars reaching your closed eyelids.

His movements become more intense and sloppier, breathing ragged as he chases his own release.

"Espérame. Stay there for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping tighter as he continues to pound into you. "Ya casi" his thrusts become erratic as he nears his climax, "almost there, baby"

You feel his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, seed spilling into you without wasting a drop.

"That's right" whispers against your sweet neck roughly, voice breaking as he collapses over you, trying to level his breathing. "Eres mía, only mine"

You're whimpering, body exhausted from the whole session you had.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired" you sigh, "but I don't think I can walk"

"We'll get you a wheelchair someway" he jokes.

"You think is funny? Ruining my holidays?"

He leans down to press a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up" you mumble out a tired no, but Pedro's picking you up with his strong arms, taking your body to the bathroom. You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"You know what? Your fans were right: you do have a slutty little waist" you mock.

"Right" he blushes, embarrased as he takes you inside the bathroom, then placing you on top of the toilet. "Open up, baby" he grabs some tissues, trying to clean up the mess you've made between your legs. "Así, justo así, bebé" he parts your hair to the side lovingly, fixing it for you before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. "Done, my pretty baby, look at you"

You hum, eyes threatening to close.

"I see you're not an after-sex talker. Come on, I'll take you back to bed" he picks you up again, your head leaning against Pedro's V line as he caresses your head. "Hope you don't mind the smell"

"I love how you smell" you mumble out in a drunk like state.

"Okay then" he chuckles, "let's go back to bed" taking you out of the room, gently placing you the mattress. He then pulls a pair of fresh panties from your suitcase, dressing you in them. He coos at the sight of you, sleeping peacefully despite what you did before.

He finally lays next to you, lovingly lifting up your arm to put it around his waist. He pulls the sheets over your bodies to keep you both warm, in the chilly room thanks to the beach's air.

He feels you move, snuggling closer to his chest to seek warmth.

"I love you" whispered, not expecting you to answer or hear it.

When you snuggle closer, he's sure you do.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas

#dilfistquickwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedropascal #pedro fluff #pedro smut #pwp #pedro pascal pwp #pedro pascal fandom

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