#I’m imagining fuzzy edges

[theabsurdity]

[crushmeeren]

Sex chocolate with Hawks, Dabi, Aizawa and maybe Toshinori???

⋆ ft. izuku ⋆

⋆ this is written as if the guys didn’t know they’d eaten the chocolate and how they’d react to the treat. sorry I didn’t put Toshinori in this, I’m not quite sure how to write his personality yet. (ó﹏ò｡)

𝛏 master list link 𝛏

ᯓ★ dividers created by me.

// @emmab3mma hope you enjoy! ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Izuku’s lips would tug into a sheepish smile, no doubt thankful for the sweet treat pick me up. His eyes would brighten, a satisfied hum dancing in the air.

Izuku would be unbearably jittery out on patrol that evening, hopping from the sidewalk on one side the street to the other, green light crackling in his wake. He’d do it mindlessly, thoughts wandering to you and what you currently could be doing.

Suddenly, he’d be flailing mid air when he vividly imagines you on your knees, plush lips stretched so wide on his cock he knows it must hurt your mouth. Izuku would stumble when he hit the concrete, catching himself on the bench nearby.

Izuku’s expression would twist from calm to horrified, thoughts running a mile a minute when he steadies himself and realizes his cock is…hard. Throbbing. Straining against his hero suit. He’d make haste running to the nearest building with a public restroom.

Izuku would shut the door to the restroom and lock it before anyone could even notice he entered. He’d be frantic, shoving his pants down mid thigh as he leaned against the wall and hissed through his teeth when the cool air hit his freely bobbing cock.

He’d have a million concerns in the back of his head but not be able to focus on a single one. Izuku would have a one track mind, wrapping a hand around himself and jerking until he came in less than 20 seconds to the image of you on your knees.

Izuku would be so embarrassed afterwards, cheeks bright pink as he adjusts his clothes and washes his hands.

Being as smart as he is, he’d have a suspicion this is related to the chocolate you gave him and he intends to find out once he’s home. Once he returned, he’d tease you until you’re on the edge of tears and blurting out the truth, fucking you until your mind whites out and you scream his name.

Lucky you.

Keigo would give you a flirty grin, winking playfully as he snatched the chocolate from you and swallowed it within two bites. You’d give him an unimpressed look but he’d just laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Keigo isn’t surprised when he got a boner while soaring through the skies on the way to his agency. He’d been thinking about you anyways and his dick getting hard wasn’t uncommon when he thought of you. It’d be fair to say that happened often, if he’s honest.

Keigo would take note of the violent flush crawling down his neck and snaking under the fuzzy collar of his flight jacket. He’d suck his bottom lip in between his teeth and adjust his cock in his pants so it’s sticking straight up instead of outward.

He’d be able to somewhat focus on the business meeting he didn’t want to attend in the first place, only being reprimanded a few times more than normal for zoning out.

Keigo’s pulse would thunder. He’d wear a neutral expression, letting his chin rest in his propped up hand as he sent a feather to find and turn on the air because why the fuck is it so hot in here?

He’d text you something filthy as discreetly as he could under the table, biting his knuckles when you sent back a picture of yourself with your tits on display. Keigo would come to the conclusion that maybe he was a bit more pathetically horny than normal and he needed to ditch this meeting yesterday.

Keigo would go straight home, ignoring anyone who had tried to speak with him on his way out. He’d find you on the couch with nothing on but an oversized shirt and waving what’s left of the chocolate bar at him with a smirk when he entered through the balcony.

He wouldn’t even be upset when you told him what you’d done. He’d just crowd close, looming over you with a wolfish grin that shot a thrill down your spine.

Keigo would succumb to the aphrodisiac completely. He’d bend you over the backrest of the couch at hip level and wrench your arms taut behind you, fingers circling your wrists to secure you in place.

Keigo would have no mercy, sliding his cock in your tight pussy before you’re turned on enough to take him smoothly. He’d send a feather down to play with your clit until you strain to escape, not stopping despite your pleas because “this is what you wanted, isn’t it baby? yeah, so stop yapping and take it.”

In the end all you can do is nod, because if you truly wanted him to stop you’d only have to say the safe word.

Shouta would raise an eyebrow with a bored expression on his features. He’d roll his eyes and eat the chocolate after you pushed your lower lip out and fluttered your lashes at him.

Shouta’s a sucker for you.

He’d be grading papers that afternoon, knuckles rubbing at his sleepy eyes in the office of your shared home. He’d take a break, pressing his palms to his eyes and resting his elbows on the desk.

A scenario would pop into his head, one where you sat on the edge of the desk while he’d relax in his chair and lazily eat you out. He can imagine the way your clit would feel against his tongue, how warm and soft your pussy would be on his lips.

Shouta would lean back in the chair, a hand absently dropping to his lap to palm his cock and he’d be startled at just how much he’d filled out already. His dick hot and sticking to his inner thigh. Shocked at the unavoidable thick warmth swirling in his belly when it’d usually take a bit more than a brief daydream to get this worked up.

He’d be certain that you had something to do with this and irritation would lance through him. He’d sit in the kitchen once he’s finished, arms crossed and cock stubbornly refusing to flag until you returned home.

Shouta would ask you about it as if he were asking a child if they had stolen a cookie from the cookie jar. Easily, you admit to it. No hesitation, no shame, just a smug air about you.

Then, Shouta would make his fantasy a reality. He’d eat your pussy until you were right on the edge of cumming and then he’d stop. He’d speak condescendingly, saying “poor baby, your pussy just wants to cum doesn’t she?” as he sits you roughly down on his cock.

He’d spank you a few times, teasing you a bit more but he’d make you cum so intensely your toes would cramp — and then he’d keep going until his own brain got fuzzy.

Touya would say fuck no at first. He doesn’t like chocolate. Until you mention there’s something special about the sweet and he assumes it’s an edible. You don’t bother to correct him because, technically, it is an edible, just not the kind filled with weed.

Touya would be leaning his back against the railing on your balcony, angled so he can peer into the open doors of your living room. He’d have a cigarette dangling from his lips, scrubbing at his cheek with one hand because yeah, his cheeks are typically roasting but they’re never this hot.

He’d shrug it off and nonchalantly light up the cigarette with his pointer finger. He’d startle as the tiny flame bursts into a fireball that he really didn’t mean to create when you stride past the doorway in soft shorts that show the crease of where your thigh joins your ass.

You’d freeze mid step and turn to stare at him incredulously, lips parted slightly when the aftershock of heated air damn near singes your skin.

Touya would be flustered. Cheeks painted rosy pink with embarrassment at the lack of control over his quirk. He’d scowl harshly, pinching his brows together as he dropped and stomped on his cigarette to put it out. He’d stalk towards you and snarl “why the hell are you wearing those fucking shorts?” as if his sudden overbearing lust is your fault specifically.

You’d roll your eyes and begin walking in the direction you’d intended in the first place but Touya would snatch your wrist tight enough the bones grind together and drag you to your bedroom. He’d ignore your obviously fake bewildered expression and shove you onto the mattress. He can’t focus on the fact that you seem to be going along with this a bit too easily.

His cock would be jumping and pushing painfully against the zipper of his jeans before he so much as kissed you. He wouldn’t get either of you truly naked, he’d just slide your soft shorts to the side and unzip his jeans. He’d shove your shirt to your collarbone so he could watch the way your tits are about to bounce.

Touya would yank your ankles up and over his shoulders until the backs of your thighs press into his chest and then fold you in half like you’re a fucking blanket. He’d tilt his hips until his tip catches on your pussy and then he’s shoving his cock all the way inside to steal the breath from your lungs.

Touya wouldn’t have the self control to stop for a long time that evening and you’d almost regret giving him the chocolate. Almost.

[lovelake]

Sol hastily accepts your phone call all the while his hand is two minutes away from making him see stars.

solivan brugmansia x gn!reader | MDNI, 700+ wc drabble, masturbation, fantasized oral (receiving), takes place at the end of the 1st day

note: title is from the song ‘serial killer’ by ldr <3 as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you for all the support on the last fic !! alsoo i would love tkatb mutuals, so if anyone would like to be mutuals lmk 🫶

masterlist read on ao3 requests open

This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea. He should’ve let your call ring until it ended. Rationality flew out the window when it came to you, though. 

“–anyways, I don't want to like…force you to come to the party or anything. Honestly, I’m not really into it but I’d feel kinda bad not going.” 

Right. The Halloween costume party. That’s what you were talking about. 

It felt like he was being edged. He couldn’t even be quiet in public spaces, he had to punch someone earlier for hearing him in the bathroom! There was another option entirely, one easier than being quiet—just stop—but he wasn’t about to do that.

He was getting lost in the clouds of his dangerous imagination once again. You were here at his house, in his room, on his bed. You were edging him. He wasn’t touching himself, it was your hand stroking him instead. Up ‘n down, nice ‘n slow. 

“Sol?”

Fuck. 

“Sorry, yeah.” Keep your breathing under control. “It’s not my thing either, but…uh, if you’re going then I want to go too.”

A lot could happen in a couple hours on campus grounds, he wasn’t letting you out of his sight, especially not at night.

“We can sulk together, then! I think it’s free. Let me double check…yeah, it’s free for admitted students. We just need to RSVP.”

“Cool.” If he kept his replies short then maybe you wouldn’t catch the shakiness in his voice. 

“Do you have a costume?”

“No, you?” 

“Nope.” You sighed, the sound made his mind fuzzy. “And I don’t really have any cool clothes to make one. I was thinking of checking out some stores sometime this week…wanna come with?”

“Right there…”

“What?”

“I’ll be there.”

There was no way you didn't notice the sound of his bedsheets rustling. But he could hear you start rambling, so he was in the clear for now. Art class, project, tired—just a few key words and phrases he managed to pick up on.

He envisioned you perfectly, head settled right between his thighs.

Would you be sweet and kiss it all over? Start from the bottom and trail up until you finally reach the tip? Suck for a while, pull it out with a pop, rest your cheek against his inner thigh to rest, then do it again? Once he finished, would you look at him lovingly and tell him how much you like him?

Or maybe you’d be more intense with him—take him right into your mouth and leave him an immediate moaning mess. A single bat of your lashes and a second of eye contact would make him topple over. Then you’d open your mouth nice and wide to show him you took it all.

Either way, he’d pull you up and kiss you, mumbling strings of praises in between each one before pressing you into the mattress to return the gesture.

Everything felt hot. Too hot. He needed to cool off. He lifted his shirt just above his nipples. They were already hard and proudly showing off their barbell jewelry.

He was close. Please hang up, he can’t hold it in. He was pathetic when it came to self-control. But what kind of person calls someone this late at night instead of just texting, anyway? He really hadn’t expected this while going about his usual nightly routine. 

And just when he thought he was doing a good job of keeping it in, he let a loud sharp gasp escape. 

Silence. He could hear his own heartbeat. 

You’d think nothing of it.

You’d think nothing of it.

You’d think nothing of it. 

“Was that a yawn?” You apologetically asked the question under your breath, like you were speaking to yourself for a brief moment. 

Then your voice picked back up. “Sorry for calling so late, I forgot it’s almost midnight! Anyways, I’ll let you go…good night. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sol.”

“…Night…” 

You hung up. Bless your heart, you barely managed to dodge the breathless moan of your name spilling from him. 

Dopamine in the shape of small hearts flooded his brain, static flowed through his veins. All his cells have the purpose of loving you, nothing else. He wouldn't have it any other way. It’s such a shame the testament of his utmost devotion had to land on his stomach instead of inside you where it belonged.

The haziness slowly died down, he opened his eyes—immediately met with the patch of pictures of you hung on his wall. How could such a perfect person exist? Gaze trailing down towards his counter, he could see an empty container, the one he kept all those sleeping pills in. He’d have to ask Hyugo for more.

[angelsuecult]

it ain’t me babe | s. crosby

“Go melt back in the night, babe

Everything inside me is stone”

warnings: none.

summary: the aftermath of a wedding has you left wondering where your relationship with sidney is going.

request: We need Sid and younger girlfriend attending a wedding 👀 here realizing that maybe Sid should see other people angsty slow burn fluff smut maybe?

word count: 5.6k

song: it ain’t me - joan baez 

a/n: i hope you guys like this one! Im pretty proud of it. ALSO WHAT IS A TAGLIST?? I WANT TO DO IT BUT IDK WHAT IT IS I PROMISE IM NOT INTENTIONALLY OVERLOOKING IT I JUST DO NOT KNOW WHAT THAT IS!! SOMEBODY PLS LMK.

previous part | part two

—

The apartment falls quiet. Too quiet.

You go through the motions of getting ready for bed on autopilot.

Hair undone, makeup wiped away, heels abandoned somewhere in the living room a problem for tomorrow.

You exhale slowly as you sit on the edge of your bed, rubbing your hands over your face. The weight of the night presses against your shoulders, heavy and unrelenting.

Now you’re in pajamas—one of Sidney’s t-shirts and a pair of fuzzy pants that you had grabbed blindly from your drawer. The shirt is soft, worn down from years of washes, and smells just like him.

It makes your chest ache.

You should be exhausted. It’s late. Your body is tired, but your mind won’t shut up.

You shuffle around your apartment, turning off the lights one by one, until the only one left is the glow from your bedroom lamp.

And then, just before you head to bed, you do something completely fucking stupid.

You pull back the curtain and peek through your window.

Sidney’s gone.

You don’t know what you were expecting.

Of course he left.

You don’t know how long he sat out there, parked in the same usual spot, engine idling. But now there’s nothing. Just an empty space where his car had been.

Why would he still be out there? You gave him nothing to work with. No explanation. No indication of what the hell went wrong tonight.

Just shut down completely, locked yourself up tight, and now you’re surprised that he left?

It shouldn’t make you feel as lonely as it does.

But it does.

You let the curtain fall shut, swallowing the lump in your throat as you climb into bed.

Your sheets are cold when you slip beneath them, sending a shiver down your spine. It makes you curl up tighter, instinctively seeking the warmth of him.

Sidney’s pillow is right there.

It smells like him.

Like his cologne, his shampoo—like home.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to shut out the ache that spreads through your chest.

Your phone is on your nightstand.

You curl into yourself further, phone in your hand, thumb hovering over the screen.

There’s nothing from Sidney.

Of course there isn’t. 

You open your messages anyway, staring at the empty text box.

You don’t know what to say.

You don’t even know if you should say anything.

You type something out. Delete it. Type it again.

I love you. I’m sorry.

Backspace.

I miss you. I’m sorry.

Backspace.

Goodnight. I’m sorry.

Backspace.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, but no words come out. So you toss your phone onto the mattress.

You really did want to go home with him tonight.

You did.

But no matter how badly you want to be in his bed right now, tangled up in his sheets, wrapped up in his warmth—you just couldn’t bring yourself to go home with him tonight.

Not when it didn’t feel right.

Something in you just—couldn’t.

Not when the night had left you feeling so fucking out of place. Like you had no right to be in his life.

So instead, you’re here. Alone. Holding onto his pillow like it’s the only thing keeping you together.

And then it happens. A knock that barely registers at first.

Your eyes are closed, you’ve been hovering in that in-between space—half asleep, half awake, mind slipping into unconsciousness when the sound filters through the quiet. You don’t move. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe it’s something outside.

And again.

A slow, deliberate knock.

Your stomach twists because you already know who it is.

For a second, you think about just staying in bed, pulling the covers over your head, pretending you didn’t hear it. It’s late. Whatever he has to say can wait until morning.

But you know Sidney.

And Sidney doesn’t just go when something doesn’t sit right with him.

You sigh, pushing yourself upright. The hardwood is cool against your bare feet as you shuffle to the door, barely awake, heart pounding. You don’t bother checking the peephole. There’s no point.

You hesitate for a second, fingers hovering over the handle. There’s a moment where you consider taking a breath, preparing yourself, but you don’t give yourself the chance. You pull it open.

Sidney’s standing there.

He looks��frustrated. Tense. His jaw is clenched, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, and his eyes sweep over you, taking in the way you’re dressed in his t-shirt, the sleep still lingering on your face.

His shoulders drop the slightest bit, like he was holding his breath without realizing it.

“Are you gonna let me in?” he asks, voice low.

You step aside without a word, and he walks in, waiting until you close the door before he turns to you.

He lets out a slow breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “What’s going on?”

You blink. “What?”

Sid exhales sharply, dragging a hand over his face. “What the fuck is going on with you tonight?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sid scoffs, lips pressing into a tight line. “Seriously?”

You fold your arms, the weight of exhaustion settling into your bones. “It’s late, Sid.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he mutters. “I’ve been driving around the block for almost an hour trying to figure out what the hell just happened.”

You swallow, shifting your weight. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to tell me why the fuck you suddenly decided you didn’t want to come home with me,” he says. “I want to know why you shut down, why you acted like you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

“I didn’t—” You exhale sharply, running a hand over your face. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

You look away, focusing on the floor, the wall, anywhere but him. You hate that you’re making him feel like this.

Sidney exhales through his nose, his patience thinning. “I don’t get it, okay? I don’t fucking get it. We were fine when we got there. You looked happy. You were joking around with me in the car, messing with the radio, making fun of my suit. And then suddenly—” He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t even know. You spent the whole night by yourself.”

You close your eyes.

“And then you thank me for a ‘great night’ like I’m some fucking Uber driver?” He lets out a humorless laugh. “What the fuck, Y/n?”

You shift your weight, suddenly feeling too exposed, too cornered. “I’m just tired, Sid.”

“Tired?” He lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “That’s what we’re calling it?”

You cross your arms. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Sid’s jaw tics. “I want you to talk to me.”

Your throat tightens.

His voice is rough around the edges, threaded with frustration, but it’s not anger. Not really.

It’s concern.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say, hating the way your voice wavers at the end.

Sid’s eyes narrow, like he can hear it too.

He shakes his head. “Bullshit. Jesus, I feel like I’m losing my mind here. You shut down out of nowhere, and now I’m standing here at one in the morning trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong.”

Guilt twists in your stomach.

You didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

But now you’re standing here, and he’s looking at you like he’s trying to put together a puzzle that doesn’t make sense, and you have to spell it out for him.

You have to say it out loud.

And the fact that you have to spell it out for him makes you feel like absolute shit. What’s so difficult to understand here? Doesn’t he know?

Your nails dig into your arms as you squeeze them tighter across your chest, pulse thrumming in your ears. You can feel the frustration clawing its way up your throat, hot and bitter, but you don’t know how to say it without it coming out wrong.

Because what’s the point of not telling him at this point?

Why are you still trying to swallow this down like it’s nothing? Like you weren’t sitting at that fucking table alone for half the night, smiling through gritted teeth while women old enough to be your mom compared you to a fucking escort? Like you didn’t have to sit there and pretend it was all fine while your own date couldn’t even be bothered to check in with you?

And now here he is. Confused. Sidney is staring at you, waiting. His hands are in his pockets, but his whole stance is tense, shoulders drawn tight, brow furrowed. Acting like he has no fucking clue why you suddenly wanted to go home. Like he doesn’t realize how humiliating it is to be borderline ignored by him and, in turn, everyone else.

And maybe it’s that. Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t get it. The way he’s standing there so fucking confused, waiting for you to explain why you feel like absolute shit instead of just knowing.

So you let it out.

You let out a short, sharp breath, shaking your head. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Sid’s jaw tightens. “No. I don’t. That’s why I’m here.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow in your chest.

“Jesus Christ, Sidney.” You step back, running a hand through your hair. “You’re—You’re Sidney fucking Crosby. The most important guy in the room, in every fucking room you walk into, and I get that, okay? I understand how this shit works by now.”

Sid doesn’t say anything, but his brows pull together, his mouth pressing into a firm line.

“I just wish I could’ve spoken more than a single fucking word to you tonight,” you say, and you don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does, but you’re tired. You’re tired.

Sidney blinks. “What?”

“I looked like a fucking idiot,” you snap, your voice trembling with something you don’t even want to name. “Sitting at that table alone, smiling at people who barely looked at me, waiting for my own fucking date to talk to me for more than five seconds before he got pulled into another goddamn hockey story.”

His frown deepens. “That’s not fair—”

“Isn’t it?” you cut in, voice sharp. “Because from where I was sitting, it sure as hell felt like I was there for no other reason than to be ignored.”

Sidney exhales heavily, raking a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t ignoring you—”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, really? Because it sure as fuck felt like it.”

Sidney’s jaw tightens. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like that.”

You laugh, humorless. “Yeah, well, what you meant to do doesn’t really mean much when the result is me looking like a fucking idiot.”

Sidney’s eyes flicker with something—frustration, guilt, something else you can’t quite place. “No one thought you looked like an idiot.”

“Oh, no?” you say, and your voice is shaking now, not with tears, but with anger. “Because it sure fucking felt like everyone was in on some big joke I didn’t know about. The hooker comments, the midlife crisis jokes—”

His face hardens. “Who the fuck said that?”

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Sidney argues.

“No, it doesn’t,” you bite back. “Because that’s not the point! The point is that I was standing there smiling through my fucking teeth while these women talked to me like I was some kind of novelty, like I was some poor little thing who didn’t belong there, while you were ten feet away, completely oblivious.”

Sidney’s mouth presses into a thin line. “I didn’t know—”

“Exactly!” you cut in. “You didn’t know because you weren’t paying attention. You weren’t there.”

Sidney’s eyes darken. “That’s not fucking fair.”

You scoff. “Isn’t it?”

His hands finally come out of his pockets, and he gestures vaguely, expression tight. “You know how these things are. People pull me into conversations, I don’t always have control over—”

“I do know,” you interrupt. “I know exactly how these things go. I know you get dragged into conversations, I know it’s not intentional, I know all of that. But what you don’t seem to understand is how fucking humiliating it is to be borderline ignored by your own date—to be ignored by everyone else because of it.”

Sidney’s jaw tics. “I wasn’t—”

“You know what’s not fair?” You take a step closer, jabbing a finger toward his chest. “The only actual fucking conversation I had tonight wasn’t even with a guest—God forbid—no, it was with the fucking coat boy.”

Sid’s face tightens. “Coat—” He exhales sharply. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

You throw up your hands. “Jesus, Sid, do you hear yourself? It means you barely fucking spoke to me, Sidney! How many godddamn times do I have to spell it out for you?”

Sidney huffs out a breath, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t—what do you want me to say? That I should’ve been glued to your side all night?”

“No,” you snap. “I wanted you to act like you wanted me there.”

He stares at you, something flickering in his expression, something frustrated but also—guilty.

“And before you say some shit like ‘Why didn’t you just come over to me? Why didn’t you just talk to me?’ Why the fuck should I have to?”

Sidney flinches. Just barely.

You swallow, your breath coming a little too fast. “Why should I have to beg my own date to acknowledge me?” Your voice cracks slightly at the end, but you push forward. “Why the fuck did you even bring me if you didn’t want to talk to me?”

Sidney shakes his head. “That’s not what it was.”

“Then what the fuck was it? Because you invited me, remember?”

Sidney looks at you, and there’s something in his expression—something frustrated, something aching. Like he wants to fix it but doesn’t know how.

Your breath is coming out uneven now, chest rising and falling with every word you force out, every ounce of frustration and hurt bubbling over. Sidney is just looking at you, his jaw clenched so tight you think he might crack a tooth, hands flexing open and closed at his sides. And it only pisses you off more because—because say something, for fuck’s sake. Say anything. Defend yourself. Fight with me. Do something.

But he just stares.

And you—god, you can’t. You’re too tired, too drained, too fucking done with feeling like this, feeling like you’re just… there. Like a placeholder, like a pretty little accessory to sit at his side while everyone else in the room actually matters.

So you let it spill out.

“I’m not the one you want, Sid.”

His entire face drops, mouth parting slightly like you just knocked the fucking wind out of him. And maybe you did. Maybe that’s what it takes to make him finally fucking see.

You laugh, but it’s not funny. It’s not even bitter, just… hollow. “I’m not the one you need, either. And that was made pretty fucking clear tonight.”

Sidney shakes his head immediately, taking a step forward, but you step back just as fast, arms tightening around yourself. “That’s not true.”

“But it is,” you say quietly, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “And you would know that if you actually listened to anything anyone said tonight.”

His brows draw together. “What the fuck does that mean?”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “I couldn’t get a fucking word in with you tonight, Sid. Not one. And you know why? Because I don’t matter in that world.”

Sidney’s expression darkens, and his voice drops lower, more serious. “That’s not fucking true.”

“But it is,” you argue, eyes burning now. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, I’m not even saying it’s something you did on purpose, but it’s just… how it is. I was there, I was at that table, but I might as well have been a fucking ghost. And you—”

Your voice cracks, just a little, and you have to pause, have to force yourself to swallow down the lump in your throat before you can go on.

“You didn’t notice me, Sid. You didn’t talk to me. You didn’t ask me to dance, and maybe it was because you forgot or maybe it was because you didn’t want to, but it doesn’t really matter either way, does it?” You shake your head, breathing out a humorless laugh. “You didn’t even sit down to have dinner with me.”

Sidney closes his eyes for half a second like he’s trying to keep his frustration in check. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you interrupt, voice quieter but no less sharp. “But you did. And that’s why I can’t even talk to you about this.”

Sidney lets out a breath, one hand dragging down his face, and when he looks at you again, his eyes are a little wilder, a little more desperate. “That’s bullshit. You are talking to me about it. Right now.”

You shake your head, exhausted. “Not really.”

His nostrils flare. “You think I don’t want you?”

You press your lips together, looking away.

Sidney steps forward, forcing you to look back at him. “No, seriously—do you actually think that? That I don’t fucking want you?” His voice is rough, raw. “Because that’s fucking insane.”

Your throat is tight, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing—his shirt. “Sid—”

“No,” he says, voice sharp. “You don’t get to say shit like that and then just shut down on me. What the fuck are you even saying right now?”

He exhales sharply, dragging both hands through his hair like he’s trying to physically hold himself together. His jaw is tight, his expression pulled with frustration, guilt, something raw and unspoken sitting heavy between the two of you.

And you don’t even know where to go from here.

Is this it? Is this how it fucking ends?

One bad night. One really, really bad night—so bad it’s made you question everything. So bad you’re standing here, your chest tight, your vision blurring, telling the man you love that you don’t think you’re the one he wants. The one he needs.

And it’s not like you don’t know how fucked up that sounds, how unfair it probably is. But it’s how you feel. And god, it just won’t go away.

Sid lets out a rough breath, shaking his head. “I can’t fucking believe this,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, pacing half a step before turning back, his eyes sharp, desperate. “This is really what you think? That I just—what? Forgot about you?”

You blink fast, your throat burning, voice quieter but still raw. “You did forget about me.”

Sid’s mouth presses into a hard line, his nostrils flaring slightly. “That’s not—Fuck, I didn’t forget about you, babe. I was just—”

“Busy?” you cut in, shaking your head. “Yeah, I know, Sid. I know you were busy. You’re always the most important guy in the room, and I get it. But Jesus, Sidney—” Your voice catches, and you take a shaky breath. “I sat there for hours just waiting for you to come back. Just waiting for you to maybe fucking look at me. And you didn’t. I had to sit there and smile while people made the butt of their fucking jokes, and I couldn’t even tell you about it, because you weren’t there. You weren’t even thinking about me.”

Sidney’s face twists, something like regret flashing across his expression. He shakes his head again, stepping forward, voice softer but no less urgent. “Baby, I—”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

Baby.

Your fucking weakness. But you push on.

“And maybe it wasn’t a big deal to you,” you press on, voice shaking now. “Maybe it was just one night to you, maybe I’m just making a fucking thing out of nothing, but—” Your breath stutters, and you have to look away, swiping roughly at your eyes. “But it didn’t feel like nothing, Sid.”

Sidney curses under his breath, the sound almost pained. “Jesus, baby,” he murmurs, stepping closer, reaching for you.

You shake your head, stepping back. “Don’t.”

Sid stops in his tracks, something breaking in his expression, like that physically hurt him.

Your stomach twists, and you swallow against the lump in your throat. “I don’t—I don’t know what to do with this, Sidney. I don’t know what this means.”

Sidney exhales slowly, his voice thick. “It means we fucking talk about it.”

Your throat tightens, something sharp and exhausted threading through you. “Do we? Because I’ve been trying to talk to you about it for the past thirty minutes and you still don’t seem to understand.”

Sid’s brows furrow, his face still tense, but his voice softer now, more pleading. “Babe—”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I can sit in rooms full of people who look at me like I don’t fucking belong there. Who talk about me like I’m some kind of joke.” Your eyes are burning again, and you blink rapidly, shaking your head. “And I don’t know if I can do this when it feels like you don’t even fucking care.”

Sid looks wrecked. Absolutely fucking wrecked. His throat bobs, his hands tightening into fists before he forces them to relax. “Y/n, I’m—” His voice catches, and he exhales hard, taking another step toward you. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, looking away.

“No, look at me,” Sid says, his voice rough. “Please, baby, look at me.”

You hesitate, then finally meet his eyes.

And god, he just looks so fucking sorry.

“Y/n,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Your throat clenches, your chest so fucking tight it hurts.

Sid hesitates, like he’s giving you a second to pull away—to run, if that’s what you really want. But you don’t move. You can’t.

And then, slowly, so fucking slowly, he reaches for you.

“Come here,” he breathes, soft and pleading. “Please, baby. Just—just come here.”

And God help you, you do.

You don’t even think. You just go, letting him pull you in, letting him wrap his arms around you tight, like he’s terrified you’ll slip right through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on hard enough.

And fuck, it almost hurts how tightly he’s holding you, his grip firm and desperate, like an apology all on its own.

You squeeze your eyes shut, burying your face in his chest, and Sid lets out a shaky breath, pressing his face into your hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice raw, breaking. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your throat clenches, and you swallow hard, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket.

Sidney exhales hard, arms tightening around you. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” he murmurs, voice thick. “God, I didn’t—fuck—I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t important, I swear.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I love you,” he whispers, voice breaking on the last word. “I love you so fucking much, and I—I don’t know how the fuck I let this happen.”

Your chest tightens painfully, and you shake your head against him.

Sidney swallows hard, arms flexing around you. “You’re the most important fucking thing in the world to me,” he breathes, voice rough and aching. “And it’s not okay that you felt like that tonight. It’s not. I should’ve—I should’ve fucking been there.”

Your breath shudders out of you, and Sid lets out something close to a quiet curse, shifting slightly so that he’s cradling you now, one hand sliding up to the back of your head.

“I love you,” he murmurs again, like he’s trying to will it into you, like he’s trying to make you feel it. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You nuzzle into his shoulder, breathing him in, letting your fingers play at the soft hair at the nape of his neck, twisting the strands between your fingertips, memorizing the way they feel. Just in case. Like if you just press yourself deep enough into him, maybe—maybe—it won’t hurt so much when this all slips through your fingers.

Because if this is the last time—if this is the last time you ever get to hold him, touch him, love him—then you want to make sure you remember everything. Just in case this is it. Just in case you lose him tonight. Just in case you don’t get to love him tomorrow.

Sid breathes out hard, his grip tightening on you like he can feel the way you’re preparing yourself to lose him. And maybe he can. Maybe he can feel the way you press your face into the crook of his neck, like you’re trying to keep him there just a second longer. Like you don’t want to let go.

"Baby," he breathes against your temple, his lips brushing your skin. "Don't do that. Don’t—don’t pull away from me like that."

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself not to break, not to let the sadness welling in your chest swallow you whole. "I’m not," you whisper. But you are. You know you are. And of course he noticed.

Sid exhales hard, his hands smoothing up and down your back, grounding you. "Yeah, you are," he murmurs. "I can feel it. I know you."

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, hands firm on your lower back, like he’s keeping you right there. “Don’t—don’t hold onto me like you’re saying goodbye.” His throat bobs. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t do that.”

You drop your gaze to his chest, fingers still playing at his hairline. “I don’t know what else to do.” Your voice is small, raw.

Sid groans softly, tilting his forehead against yours, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. “You stay,” he murmurs, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “You stay right here. With me.”

Your breath stutters, and for the first time, you let yourself look at him. Really look at him. His eyes are red-rimmed, tired, his expression so full of regret it hurts to see.

Then finally, Sid sighs, long and slow. "You're right. I fucked up,” he admits, voice rough, thick with something heavy. “I disrespected you. I got caught up in everything.”

Your fingers still in his hair.

Sid sighs, his other hand rubbing slow, absentminded circles against the small of your back. “I let myself get pulled into conversation, into all the bullshit, I forgot what was really important tonight. And I’ll never be able to apologize enough for that.”

You blink up at him, studying the way his brows are drawn, the way his mouth is set in a hard, miserable line.

Sid shakes his head at himself, eyes flickering over your face, guilt written in every line of his own. “I’m an idiot,” he says quietly, shaking his head. “There’s a million fucking things I should’ve done differently tonight.”

Your throat tightens, and you nod because—yeah. There are.

Sid exhales sharply, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly under your eye. “But I’m not losing you over this,” he murmurs, voice low, firm. “I won’t.”

You swallow, your fingers curling into the fabric of his dress shirt. “Sid—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna lose you over this.” His voice is quiet but firm, like an unshakable promise. “I won’t accept it. One bad night isn’t gonna ruin what we have.” His hands drop to your waist again, holding you steady, grounding you. “It’s too special.You’re too fucking special.”

Your chest aches, your fingers flexing against his shirt. And you believe him. You do.

Because this is Sid. Your Sid. The man who worships the ground you walk on, who loves you fiercely, who cares.

So you just look at him for a moment, drinking him in—the hazel hue of his eyes, the curve of his mouth, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the most important fucking thing in the world.

Sid brushes his nose against yours, his voice softer now. “I love you too fucking much to let this be the thing that breaks us.”

And for the first time all night, you feel something loosen in your chest.

He studies you for a moment, eyes flickering over your face like he’s trying to gauge where your head is at. Then, more quietly, “You do know that, right?”

And yeah. Yeah, you do.

You nod slowly, and Sid lets out a breath, relief flickering across his features.

“I know you’re upset with me,” he murmurs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You should be. I’d be fucking pissed if I were you.” He gives a half-smile, but it’s small, cautious, like he’s afraid to push too soon.

Your lips twitch, just barely, and that’s all he needs.

He exhales, leaning in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I mean it, baby,” he says against your skin. “I love you. And I hate that I made you feel like anything less than the most important fucking person in that room tonight.”

You sigh, leaning into him again, and this time, it feels different.

Softer. More you and him.

Sid watches you carefully, eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “Come back to me, my love,” he murmurs. “Please.”

You press your lips together, exhaling slowly.

And then, quietly, “I’m right here.”

And just like that, his shoulders sag with relief. You exhale slowly, your breath still finding its rhythm, but the ache in your chest has softened. Sid’s eyes stay on you, unwavering, searching, like he’s waiting for you to say something—anything.

And you believe him. You do. Because even though tonight fucking sucked, even though you spent hours feeling like you didn’t belong, even though you had to sit with the humiliation of being overlooked by everyone, including the one person who should have seen you—you love him. You love him, and you know he loves you too.

What you have is special. It’s everything. 

Your fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him like he might slip away if you don’t. But he’s not going anywhere. You can feel it in the way he holds you, the way his hands splay across your back, like he’s trying to mold you against him, like he’s making sure you’re real.

Sid exhales through his nose, slow and controlled. His fingers trace lazy circles at the base of your spine, grounding you. “Talk to me, baby,” he murmurs. “Let me in.”

Your throat tightens, the lump still there, even though the sharp edges of your anger have dulled. “I hate feeling like this,” you admit, your voice quiet.

Sid’s hands tighten around you. “I know,” he says softly, and the way he says it—like he really knows, like he gets it—makes you feel even closer to tears.

“I don’t—” You break off, shaking your head against him. “I don’t want to be mad at you.”

Sid sighs, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Then don’t,” he murmurs, voice softer, lighter now. “Just love me.”

You let out a watery laugh, and he feels it, his arms tightening as he presses his forehead to yours. “Baby,” he says again, so fucking tender, like he’s pouring every ounce of love he has for you into that single word.

Then, after a moment, his voice comes quiet, hesitant. Hopeful.

“We’re okay, right?”

It’s so soft. So careful. Like he’s afraid of the answer. Like maybe, just maybe, he’s still a little scared you might walk away.

You let out a slow breath, thinking. Feeling.

“I think so,” you whisper.

Sid exhales sharply, a little relieved sound, and he nudges his nose against yours, affectionate, familiar. His fingers tighten briefly against your back before his hands smooth over you, slow and steady.

“Good,” he murmurs, lips brushing lightly against your temple. “’Cause I don’t think I could fucking take it if we weren’t.”

A small, breathy exhale leaves you, and for the first time tonight, it’s almost a laugh. Almost.

Sid hears it, feels the way your body relaxes just the smallest bit, and it’s like he latches onto it, chases after it.

“Jesus, babe,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then another, then another. “I feel like I aged ten fucking years tonight.”

That gets a real laugh out of you—quiet, small, but real.

Sid pulls back slightly, looking at you like he’s trying to memorize you, trying to read every single emotion on your face. His thumb brushes over your cheek, gently.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth twitching just the slightest bit, like he’s trying to smile but doesn’t want to push it too soon.

Your throat tightens at the warmth in his voice, the relief. The way he says my girl like it’s fact.

You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him, the safety of him. His fingers slide up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing gently over the apple of your cheek. “We’re okay,” he says, like he needs you to know it. Like if he says it enough times, you’ll believe it too.

And you do. You do.

You let out a slow, shaky breath, nuzzling into his touch. “I love you,” you whisper, barely audible, but he hears it.

Sid lets out a sound that’s almost a laugh, almost a sigh, almost relief. “Fuck,” he breathes, tilting his head just enough to press his lips to yours—not desperate, not rushed, just there. Just a promise. Just an I love you too.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

❛ NEW MAGIC WAND ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…angel has been giving attitude all night. so, mean!chris decides he’s gonna make her as exasperated as she’s been making him all evening.

pairings: mean!chris & sensitive!brat!reader (angel)

cw: SMUT, use of a vibrator☺️, edging☺️, teasing, use of pet names, orgasm denial, i..think that’s it

as chris pulled you into the nearest bathroom of the house hosting the party you were at, your heart was pounding. you knew you were in trouble. all night, you’d been mouthing off to chris and rolling your eyes, which has definitely taken a toll on his mood.

he shut the door, pinning you up against it. chris grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. you can practically see flames set alight in his eyes, and this made you…aroused? yeah, chris was mean sometimes, but it turned you the hell on. and he knew that.

“you’ve had a big mouth all night, ma…where’s it gone?” he teases lowly. you’re still speechless, avoiding eye contact at all costs. “hey—yeah, look at me when i’m talkin’ to you.” he demands, his raspy voice compelling you to obey and look up at him. something about his expression looked different. he’s got something planned for you, and you know it’s not gonna be good.

you can see those mischievous gears turning in his head as he starts to speak again, “you’ve been keepin’ me on edge all night with that attitude of yours, haven’t you, angel?” chris teases. you weren’t aware he was expecting a vocal answer until he gives your cheeks a painful squeeze, still holding your face in his hand.

“y-yeah..” you squeak, making a confident grin creep across his face. oh no. “yeahh, that’s right. so y’know what i think? i think it’s my turn to keep you on edge, ma. you pickin’ up what i’m throwin’ down?” he rasps.

your eyes widen. you’ve never been edged before, let alone by chris. you were nervous to say the least. you knew he’d show you no mercy…but as you thought about it, you began to notice the familiar heat pooling between your legs as you nod in response to his question.

“good. y’know…i found y’little vibratin’ wand thing…think that’ll do it for ya, angel?” he asks, tracing his thumb on your bottom lip. you look up into his eyes. they may be the lightest, brightest blue you’ve ever seen, but that dark glint always finds it’s way into his eyes. “let’s get outta here, then. cmon.”

chris leads you out of the house and you can just imagine how exhausting your night is gonna be.

chris ushers you into your home with a slap on the ass. you both get inside and chris immediately starts talking. “alright, go on upstairs, ma. y’know how i want you.”

you respond with a nod and scurry up the stairs to your shared bedroom. you strip, tossing your clothes off to who knows where. you sit on the bed, awaiting chris’ arrival. chris comes in, holding something familiar in his hand. your stupid vibrator wand from the bathroom cabinet. your heart drops.

“hey, ma. lookin’ nervous over there,” chris chuckles. he drops a pair of fuzzy handcuffs on the nightstand and your eyes go wide. “i-i’m not,” you falsely protest, your voice coming out shakier than you wanted it to. “sure you aren’t, angel.” chris chuckles again.

he sits down next to you on the bed, trailing his hands all over your body. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, baby.” your face flushes and you look away. he grabs your face and turns it back to him with a grin. he leans down, going to town on your neck. whimpers leave your mouth as he trails dark bruises all down your neck and down to your collar bones. he moves down to your bare breasts, circling each of your nipples with his tongue, leaving a trail of fire in it’s wake.

chris sits back up, admiring how you’re now marked up for him. he hums in approval as he reaches a finger down to your sopping pussy. “soaked, angel.” chris teases, running his finger up and down through your slit agonizingly slow. you squeeze your eyes shut just before he pulls his hand away and the tense silence is replaced with a soft buzzing. you knew what it was.

you feel him trace the vibrating wand along your inner thighs, not reaching your core just yet. your clit throbbed with need, and you knew you needed to say something. “please, chris…”

he pauses, a smirk evident on his face, “please what, ma?” he knew exactly what you wanted. he just wanted to make you say it. you whine, not wanting to speak it out loud. chris cocks a brow at you, dragging the wand further away from your pussy, closer to your knee.

“n-need it…on my cl-clit…please…” you mutter in embarrassment, your face flushing red. there’s no way he’s making you do this. chris chuckles at that, hovering the wand in the air just above your clit. “like this, baby?” he teases. you whine, shaking your head. chris then presses it down onto your clit, allowing the vibrations to finally flow through you. instinctively, your legs try to close, but chris is quick to fix that, pinning your thighs open. “no, ma. you don’t need restraints, do you?” your eyes widen as you vigorously shake your head.

chris rubs slow circles around your clit with tip of the wand. you whimper and whine, squirming with each vibration. chris uses his other hand to hold you still.

“you need to stay quiet for me, angel.” he mumbles, turning the vibrator up a notch and increasing the pressure. his little circles become faster, causing moans to spill from your lips. “i…i c-can’t!” you whine. chris fakes a pout, faux sympathy dripping from his voice. “oh, you can’t? i think you c-can, baby.” he mocks you. chris knows you have a very hard time staying quiet, so watching you struggle like this was pure nirvana for him.

“ch-chris, i really can’t—“

he looks down at you with a smug expression. “oh, i’m sure you can manage it, angel. if you can’t control your voice, i’ll just have to stop. and we don’t want that, do we?” he teases. you whine at that. as much as this was pure torture, you didn’t want it to stop. at least—not yet.

chris turns the vibrator up the the 3rd level, and this really gets you going, you’ve got one hand over your mouth, struggling to keep quiet, and the other hand gripping chris’ bicep for all the support you can get.

chris chuckles darkly at your struggles, watching you convulse and try to hold back your whimpers. your legs start to tremble a little more prominently as you feel your orgasm approaching. chris seems to notice this too, increasing his efforts. “getting close, ma?” you vigorously nod, the pleasure becoming more and more intense.

“‘m gonna c-cum, chris!” you moan out, but just as soon as your orgasm was approaching, it was taken away by chris switching off the wand. you whine.

“mmm, no you’re not, angel. only good girls get to cum, remember? it’s gonna be a while before you’re gettin’ what y’want, baby.” chris taunts, that devilish grin still plastered across his face.

with a disappointed whimper, you come to your next realization.

this is gonna be a long, exhausting night.

a/n: hi hi! short lil chris smut cause i got this idea last night and had to write it before i forgot about it! mean!chris and sensitive!brat!reader are definitely going to be a new au on my blog, so send in stuff about them!

taglist

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

[xxgrimml0vrxx]

a/n sorry I’ve been gone for so long, life is crazy but here’s more Mammon stuff that’s been heavy on my mind 𓄿

⚠️warnings⚠️ breeding, afab reader (no pronouns but the word ‘pussy’) Mammon being greedy.

Mammon has a breeding kink and I will not be argued with. he just does.

Especially in spring, (February to May is when crows typically breed and nest) his mind filled with thoughts of bending you over anywhere and stuffing you with his cum.

He’ll even freeze mid-conversation imagining you plump and round with a child. his child. In his pretty little human.

He’ll go fucking feral for it.

“That’s my good human.....ya look so good underneath me treasure~” Mammon moans as he pounds himself into you.

You don’t remember how many times you’ve cum by now, tears running down your face as you gasp and moan trying desperately to catch your breath.

Mammon just laughs softly as he presses soft kisses to your chapped lips and sweaty face.

The fucked out look on your face makes his cock throb, and he has to look away before he cums too quickly.

Mammon presses his body into yours, face in your neck. His fast thrusts speed up again, the room finning with the sound of sweaty sink slapping against skin.

“If only ya knew what you did to me. You know how crazy this little pussy makes me? Do ya know how bad I need ya sugar? ‘m tellin’ ya it feels like I’m addicted to you….” His voice is low and breathy right in your ear and you whine, nodding your head…..but then again your brain is too fuzzy to really make out what he’s saying.

Mammon laughs again and then bites down on the junction between your neck and your shoulder. It’s what sends you over the edge once more, and milks him dry, moaning each other’s name as you cum together.

Mammon is still shuddering for a full minute after his orgasm. And his cock is still hard inside you, “Ya didn’t think we were done did ya treasure?”

[nosfferrratu]

endless. a sukuna drabble.

✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭¿¡

potential warnings: mind-break/fuck, vague bullshit smut prompt w the smallest amount of plot, male reader, dom reader, ig can be read like a strap if ur really creative. if you really really squint, not edited cs idk, kinda confusing around some parts but i think pretty interesting, (allusion to) marathon sex, religious themes, and irreverence for christianity (making a mockery of it) only a little, also extremely ambiguous and up to reader’s imagination.

also, idk if its clear but you and sukuna, in this, have been going at it for like 12 hours before the events below.

if anybody likes this lmk cs why not.

this is literally just a sukuna dedication post and completely self insert.

✭

“h—hhah!”

the first sound you’d pulled from him.

he bit his forearm, pressing his sweat-laced skin further into his mouth with his free hand to surpress the whimpers growing within his throat.

he bowed his head into the edge of your desk, extending one arm to grip the sheets of loose bible pages ahead of him; the other still choking back his pleasure.

you blinked lazily, angling your hips to jab at the side of his insides, purposefully coming short with your strokes to avoid ramming into his prostate.

he, almost as desperate as he is murderous, pushed himself into your strokes; arching his back into the cold wood that rubbed a soothing coolness into the skin of his upperbody.

“fff—uhg!! nngh... oh, my god.”

the first sentence he’d pulled from you.

you were fully inside him. inside the king of curses. inside ryomen sukuna, and he was enjoying it.

you panted, overstimulation crawling up and across your back as shivers. his muscles both constrict and pull your dick from tip to base, igniting sparks of endless excitement crackling through your bloodstream.

you were so deep.

you knew that.

he knew that.

everyone knew that.

but, he was endless.

endlessly dragging you closer, endlessly caressing you through the erotic convergence of yourselves. you were endlessly connected to him at your base. he was endlessly warm. he was endlessly constricting. endlessly pulling. endlessly endless.

“oh, my god.”

the second sentence from you.

only three words.

the three words that separated you enough from him to keep your composuer.

“oh, god. oh, god. i c— i can’t…” you gulped, leaning forward to stabilize yourself on the sides of your desk, feeling the beads of your rosary roll forward on your neck.

you watched as the cross— a symbol of your devotion and unwavering faith to the divine— swung, teetering between the two of you. a preist and the king of deception and mischief. it teetered between the balance of power, swinging between the holy and the unholy. “god, help me.” your eyes were filled with images of hellfire and brimstone. you knew you weren’t going to win.

not today

or anyday, actually.

you heard a stiff chuckle beneath the cross.

“god?” his voice was low, but it echoed around your head, bouncing between and through the fold of your brain and subconscious mind. it was hoarse but so smooth it’d put the finest whiskey to shame. it was so, so fucking sexy. “you think god is here?”

his voice swam between tones— first sounding incredious but quickly sifting into a honey sweet, sickly arrogance. “god forsake you the moment you purified my chambers.”

laughter followed. deep, malevolent, and prideful; boisterously bouncing between the space you shared with the devil, and, no longer your lord.

you wanted to expel him. call upon god to cast him elsewhere while you purified yourself.

but, as he laughed, the bulb of your dick sunk furthermore into his… flesh.

he felt so good. so, so, so good.

how would you be saved from something you’d kill for?

you rolled your hips, head empty and light—numb with pleasure. “i’m gonna—”

“no you’re not.”

your eyes, though fuzzy and unfocused, drifted over sukuna’s form—watching as he gripped the edges of your desk and pushed his hips closed to your chest, arching his back— pushing his spine uncomfortably close to the ancient, wooden desk upholding the two of you.

endless.

he was endless.

your eyes rolled into your skull, entirely.

“oh god…”

“are you addressing me?” you couldn’t be sure, but you knew sukuna was smirking. you could hear it in his tone, in his movements, in his walls, in every inch of you that he forced further into himself, and in the orgasm he’d been building within you.

“c—christ compels you…”

he cackled, and once again you felt the vibrations stretch through and over your base. “you don’t though, do ya?” he shifted his hips, dragging your head, and entire dick through his … satin, velvet lined organs, tapping, and being pushed pleasurably into each side.

“mmng! s’kuna, please…” you were on the verge of insanity. your mind was so full of energy it couldnt focus. not on anything but the buzzing, exploding, shooting, starlight of pleasure running around your head in halos. “please let me—“

his hips cut you off.

“ffgk—ff—fuck!”

he began moving once again, slowly. it was a leisurely pace, each time he came up, your dick disconnected from him with a slight “pop” before being enclosed and hugged fully once more. over and, over, and over. it was creating a maelstorm of titillation in your mind.

everything was fuzzy. you couldn’t finish. you couldn’t oppose sukuna’s actions. you were bound. forced to be a sex toy until your curse was lifted, and you would finally be granted relief. you would be sanctioned, free to come inside of him, as deep as he could take it.

an endless orgasm.

but he had to come first.

“are you even trying anymore?” he tsked, humor lining his every motion, and expression. “i’m disappointed father.”

his thighs—plump, supple, and full of color—snapped to your base, quicker and harder than before.

then again, faster.

and again.

again.

faster.

and faster.

and faster, and faster, and faster—

your mind went blank.

you couldn’t see.

you could only feel a pressure.

two actually.

in your stomach, a deep pressure than made your head spin when you tried to focus on it.

the second was below. spanning the entire length of your dick.

it was constant.

warm.

deep.

stretching out in both directions.

going on forever.

endlessly.

you swallowed shallowly, blinking softly as light flooded the entire surface of your vision. long tendrils of shadows stretched and weaved through the light, moving in a constant up and down motion, extremely quickly, and smooth.

you blink rapidly, unable to feel your hands.

then it hit you.

all at once.

the overwhelming urge to scream— a burning in your muscles and static that paralyzed you to…

your desk.

under sukuna.

still bouncing on your dick.

he hadn’t even noticed you’d passed out. or he did and didn’t care. you were on your back, half limp on your desk and trapped between sukuna— on the tips of his toe, slamming himself down your center, and dragging your mind, life, pleasure, soul and devotion upwards, over and over again, never stopping.

never ending.

endlessly.

forever.

just like you asked.

[hyukascampfire]

(🍐) WANNA TOUCH? .. い葉 hard thoughts

𝓘N WHICH 𝗍𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇’𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽. 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗮 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆?

nerdy태현 ⊹ 𝑓 rea 19OO smut non idol ╭╯ titty fucking breast worship subby tyun

ɑ︭ : serving this one up for u @heesmiles thank u for this incredible opportunity to write subby taehyun and now i’m drooling from multiple places. this one's been in the vault for a while hehe but omfg it needed to come to life because whew!

Poor Taehyun. You’ve been prancing around his house in little to nothing more than a flimsy pair of the cutest cotton shorts and, the worst offender, that thin, buttercup yellow tank top. It moves with the plush of your curves, looks so soft against your skin. And because you’ve spent a hundred nights like this, you’re so unaware. Sprawled out over his bed, torturously comfy in his presence.

And, god, he can tell you’re not even wearing a bra. It’s got his throat dry and palms sweaty with the effort of not popping a boner over his best friend just sitting there. He feels like a true pathetic, horny weasel of a man.

“It’s so fucking hot in here, Taehyun, seriously. Do you have the heater on eighty or something?” you say, lips pouted in such a way that his melted mind does not miss. The blush dusting your cheeks, proof of the heat, doesn’t slip by him either. He’s so far gone that truth be told, there is not one inch of you that Taehyun is not currently hyper-aware of. Especially the print of your nipples against the soft cotton of your top, belying the shape of you so cruelly that Taehyun hardly has to imagine it.

Oh, and you better believe that imagine it, he has. But seeing it in live action is different than the fuzzy edges of his imagination. Here you are, his best friend, so pretty and real in the flesh. So much better, but so much worse when it’s tangible and real in front of him. “No,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “But… I can check. For you.” He remembers the tent in his pants and the pillow he’s clutched over his lap for the past twenty minutes, praying to god you don’t start asking questions. “Or you can. If you wanna.”

Well, of course you start asking questions. It’s been obvious all night, and Taehyun knows you’re just unsure of how to go about asking your guy best friend why his eyes are glued to your tits and he’s obviously covering a hard-on. It’s a stifling, new situation for the both of you. “You okay, Tyun?” Your eyes drop to the ironclad curl of his fingers into the pillow. He wonders if your skin would have the same give. “Are you seriously hard right now?”

The room does suddenly feel hot… The way you giggle the words like his struggle for the last however long is funny, as if his manhood was laughable, sends his blood boiling in his veins. Shoots his cognitive function to all hell until he really is a pathetic, stumbly mess. “It… it happens,” he says. Even the waver of his voice is mortifying. He’s not convincing anybody. “For no reason sometimes. You wouldn’t understand.” Are his lips numb, or is his face just on fire?

“Huh.” You purse your lips in a way that seems like it should be in understanding, but it feels more patronization than anything. “I guess I wouldn’t. I’ve just got these.” To Taehyun’s worst dismay, you take your tits in your palms and squeeze. Feel the weight of them. Like they were nothing more than stress balls, when they’ve been the very source of his strangulating terror. If you think you’re lightening the situation up by making jokes, you are dead wrong. His soul has already left his body. “They act on their own sometimes too, I guess, though. So.”

Fuck. He is so thoroughly fucked. Is this a joke? Is this funny to you? He can’t answer that, because bare minimum, he can’t form thoughts.

“Oh my god, Taehyun,” you laugh. You look beautiful as you witness his humiliation, and he supposes that’s the worst part. You, his pretty, popular, perfect best friend, now know exactly how much of a fumbling loser he really is. “Are you okay? Your face is white.” The moment extends excruciatingly long as you connect the dots in your head. “No fucking way—have you never seen boobs before?”

“Wha… I? Yes I have?” he says. His knuckles creak at the force with which he holds that damned pillow to his hips. For what reason? You’re already keenly aware of his shame if that sparkle in your eye says anything. “I’ve seen tits before. Jesus,” he tries again. He should just stop talking, really. For both of your sakes. “And don’t say it like that.”

The moment lingers. He debates running to the bathroom for some sort of escape. And then you drive the stake in his chest and finish the job. “On Pornhub?” you say, tilting your head in a cheeky way that suggests you’re playing with him like a cat would nudge at a mouse it pitied more than the rest. Like it wasn’t even worth digging its teeth into it. Like a charity case, you furrow your brows and take the hem of your cute little floral sleep set and hit him with, “Do you wanna see some? Real ones?” Or, rather, like you’re just performing some civic duty. Giving handouts to the poor loser who’s never seen a pair of tits. The worst part is the way his cock twitches at the prospect. He is exactly what you think he is: a hopeless virgin ogling his best friend.

His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Should he say no? Save himself some dignity?

Breathing a laugh, you tug your top up and over your chest. The sight sucks the air from his lungs. The yellow, rucked all the way up, frames it perfectly. He watches as your nipples tighten and how it makes you shudder, the shape of them branded into the back of his skull. “Holy shit,” he says, mouth moving faster than he can realize how embarrassing that is. “You can’t just—do that.”

For the second time, you just laugh at him. Your cheeks are dusted a delectable pink, your back arched to show them off better for him. It’s unreal. A thing only of his most depraved fantasies, and it’s playing out in blisteringly real time right in front of him. “You should see your face right now,” you say, shifting. Your skin, so plump and grabbable, moves softly with it. So does your chest. He’s not sure he’s even breathing at this point. “You’re blushing so hard. Your ears are red. It’s cute.” Circling your fingers around his wrist, you say, “You wanna touch?”

The weight of them—the soft give of your skin, how you feel more like marshmallows under his fingertips than he could’ve ever imagined, and he knows you’d taste just as sweet. It’s all got his stomach twisted right up. He abandons the pillow to roll his thumbs over the buds of your nipples, big brown eyes framed by his glasses darting up to check how you feel about it. He feels the seam where the swell meets your torso, dusts the pads of his fingers over your skin in such a way that makes your breath hitch and your chest jump. Explores with trembling need, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips.

“They’re… pretty,” he manages. He’s had a taste now, and perhaps this version of you, skin so malleable and bed-warmed, will consume him. Will you laugh in his face if he says he wants all this and more? Always? Maybe he’s a dog on a leash, but those soft, exploring eyes of yours don’t say that. Maybe this is as fresh and nerve-wracking for you as it is him.

It’s such a captivating, soft scene, the two of them. Tentative, crossing boundaries with thundering hearts, the familiarity of the same bedroom they’d spent so many other casual nights like this together in. But tonight was so different.

“Yeah?” you say, eyes searching his own. “You’re so…” Feeling up your own chest as if to reaffirm his words to yourself, you shift. “Do you wanna fuck them?” Your voice is like sugary whipped cream in his ears. “You can.”

Well, if he wasn’t breathing before, he certainly isn’t now. He blinks. Reels. That’s… fuck, that’s different. That can’t just be explained away as some horny exploration between two close best friends. That’s his fucking dream. Mouth drying up, his heart stutters in his chest. “Can… well, I…”

Next thing he knows, he’s discovering just how giving your body is, with his length nestled snug between the valley of your breasts. Your skin is so, so warm and welcoming, your body committing to the shape of him and keeping him there just right, and you’re staring up at him with wide, smoldering eyes and curiosity that banks on him using you like this. The sight is borderline too erotic with your hair splayed over his pillows and you laid so prettily beneath him.

“Go ahead,” you encourage. Your cheeks are the color of the plumpest strawberries. “Use them. I know you want to, Taehyun. It’s okay. You’re so sweet, I know you deserve it. You’re the best friend, make yourself feel good.”

You don’t have to ask Taehyun twice. He’s slow and unsure at first, but then his tip starts kissing your lips and he’s seeing fuzzy stars. Bracing himself, he cants his hips until he’s dropping his head down with sluggish whimpers and the valley has gone sticky and slick. He slips right through now. Brown strands of damp hair fall in his eyes, pupils blown wide with the deep thrill that starts in his belly and twists up his spine. “Heeh—fuck, oh fuck,” he says through his teeth, pushing his glasses back up his nose bridge. “Gotta—on your face? Can I… cum on your face?”

“Uh-huh,” you preen, your own eyes glazed over. For a moment, a beautiful, lingering moment, he is positive that you’re just as destroyed by this as he is. That you’re not dragging him along like a thing to pity, but rather that you’re taking as much pleasure in watching him fall apart over your body as he is getting to touch it. “Don’t stop, please, Tyun. Feels so good you’re losing your mind, huh? Do you want them to be yours?”

Taehyun’s lost his mind. “Yes,” he says, choked and tight. He’s losing rhythm. “Yes, I want to… shit, I wanna… Have them…” Unable to complete a full thought, he opts for something simple and to the point. “Love you so much. Love your tits. Can I h…have you?”

You don’t get to answer him that, because he locks up and paints your face with soft white ropes abruptly as if he’d been holding it back. And truthfully, he had. He was on the cusp a few measly moments after feeling you pressed around him, but he couldn’t handle the look on your face if he had came so quickly.

Anyway, he didn’t want the moment to come and go so quickly. But now it’s gone, inevitably, and he’s staring down at his longtime crush painted in him and looking prettier than ever. He prepares himself for the awkward snap back into reality, but you don’t recoil once it comes seeping back in at the corners.

Sitting up, you brush some unruly hair from your face and wrinkle your nose with a melodic laugh. “You’re getting this off my face, Taehyun. If I break out, you’re buying me three straight weeks of coffee.”

That’s all it takes for Taehyun to know that while he may be a loser and you may be so far out of his league that it’s unfathomable that you even grace him with your attention, things may have changed today, but so much will remain the same. That’s all it takes for him to loose a shaky laugh, still basking in the throes, and shoot back a familiar, “You know I’ll buy you some, anyway.”

OO1. 【 tagging 】 . . . @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , @izzyy-stuff , @lunesdesire , @sunoolver , @cherricola-star , @xylatox , @hyunj00 , @taebatu , @caratcakemoa , @biteyoubiteme , @dawngyu , @hyunruhi , @heesmiles , @lunesdesire , @yystarz

rblgs & asks >ᴗ<

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Wait omg I can imagine pregnant!reader going through all the pregnancy hormones. Like she's getting super emotional and lashing out at Joaquin sometimes and then she cries some more cuz she feels bad. But he's just super understanding and not taking any of it personal and that makes her cry some more cuz what did she do to deserve such an amazing husband. And then he goes out to buy her stuff to help her relax

Hard Days

about this; wc: 732, pairing: joaquin torres x pregnant!reader, contents: angst, pregnancy hormones, fluff, an: here you are my darlin i hope you like it! thanks for sending me this it’s so cute :)

danny ramirez characters masterlist

You haven’t slept through the night in almost a week and it’s wearing on your psyche. Between the baby using your ribs as a punching bag and the persistent ache in your lower back, everything feels like too much. Even your shirt feels wrong today. It’s too fucking tight, too scratchy, and didn’t it fit just fine yesterday?

You could scream.

You’re holding back tears when Joaquin pokes his head into the room, all warm eyes and easy affection. “I’m running to the store—need anything, mi amor?”

Despite his sunny disposition, the way you usually love that he can always be on the bright side of things, the question hits you wrong. Your dam breaks.

“Do I need anything?” you snap, voice rising before you can stop it. “I— I need to not feel like a beached whale. I need to sleep. I need my husband to know what I need so I can stop thinking or feeling for just a moment.”

You don’t mean it to come out that way, you’re not even mad at him. But, the frustration’s flying out of your mouth before you can stop it, and the silence that follows feels loud. Heavy.

Joaquin blinks, processing everything you’ve just said. After a beat, he steps over to you and presses a kiss to your hair without a single word. And just like that—he leaves.

Panic grips your chest.

You sit down on the edge of the couch, heart in your throat, rubbing a hand over your belly like an apology. “I didn’t mean that,” you whisper to no one in particular. “I didn’t fucking mean that. Why would you say that?”

The tears come fast this time, hot and mortifying. What if you actually hurt his feelings? What if he’s tired of this, of you?

You don’t know how long you stay there crying. Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty, before the front door opens again. You don’t look up right away, the guilt weighing on your shoulders, but you hear his footsteps. But then something warm is placed gently in your lap.

A stuffie, a sweet little pastel yellow bunny. It’s adorable. It matches the nursery.

You look up to find Joaquin standing there with two bags. One is full of snacks, the other a bundle of fuzzy socks and what looks suspiciously like a brand-new body pillow.

“I thought maybe a fresh one might help,” he says gently, crouching down in front of you. “The old one’s a little sad-looking.”

You burst into tears again.

“I’m sorry,” you manage between sobs, shoulders shaking. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I didn’t mean it. I just—everything feels like too much and I hate snapping at you and you didn’t even do anything wrong and now you’re being so nice. Why are you so nice?”

You already know the answer— Joaquin is nice because he’s Joaquin. It’s deep in his heart, the kindness and sweetness. It’s what made you fall in love with him.

Joaquin smiles like he’s been expecting this exact moment all day. He cups your cheek, guiding your gaze to his. “Because I love you,” he says simply. “And because you’re growing our baby, which is kind of a full-time job right now.”

You sniff and try to laugh, but it comes out watery. “I’m a mess.”

He shakes his head, brushing a thumb under your eye to catch a tear. “You are a beautiful, growing mess. But, you’re also mine.”

That earns him a weak smile. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then helps you get settled on the couch. He tucks the heat pack against your lower back, places the snacks within reach, and props your feet on his lap once he sits beside you.

The baby kicks just then, as if making their presence known, and you guide Joaquin’s hand to your belly with quiet reverence.

“Even they’re dramatic today,” you mutter, half a laugh under your breath.

He grins. “They take after you.”

“No, they take after you, mister wings.” You swat his shoulder.

And as he rubs slow circles into your swollen feet, you realize—he’s right. You’re in this together. Even on the hard days. Especially on the hard days. And maybe that’s what love really looks like: swollen feet, hormonal breakdowns, a brand-new pillow. Maybe it’s someone who stays anyway.

let me know if you’d like to be on the joaquin torres taglist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @jaebugzz, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69, @moonymeloncholymoney, @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites, @articel1967, @lanoviadestiles, @zolassalgorhythm, @peacefangirl, @awkwardgiraffe726

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

was binge reading under your wing au and had an idea for it

What if the boys were playing mario party and reader sits on the dick who has the highest points

(lowkey they get her high & theyre not allowed to bust in her)

a/n: no but the way intox kink is so high on my list of things i wanna play around with these guys!! you get meeeee! you’ve hacked my computer and looked at my nasty notes! ♡ 

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

when your stepbro had texted you saying that he had gotten his hands on the newest game and was inviting you over for the first official time he and the rest of the frat got to play with it, sweet little you had of course assumed that that was just it. you would just go over there, play some nintendo, laugh till you cried, nothing else whatsoever 

how fucking wrong could you have been

it was Marc who was the one who suddenly conjured a joint from his stash. 

your eyes went wide when you realised that it wasn’t just a hand rolled cigarette that the frat boy was about to light in the middle of the living room. 

now, you’d never done any drugs before, much less seen any in real life, not even a simple joint, so naturally you instantly became paranoid, looking over your shoulder because what if an officer of the law suddenly burst down the door and saw you all doing illegal shit? it wasn’t gonna happen, but the ache still bloomed in your stomach 

then they say all of this stuff about how you should try it for the first time in a safe space around people who you know, which calms you enough to timidly take the blunt when it is handed to you

the first hit makes you cough like crazy and you quickly begin to feel strange, but the guys then just nudge you and say that if you take another drag then you’ll feel better. glancing to your stepbrother, he of course is all in as well and just lulls you into a false sense of security, assuring you that everything will be alright and how you should trust him since he’s your big stepbro after all

so you quickly turn into a giggly mess, all foggy and pliant for them to toss you to whoever wants you in their lap

maybe at first it gets you so hazy and turned on that you unconsciously start humping the thigh that you’re sitting on, like you’re in fucking heat or something

or maybe it’s the guys who take the opportunity to tease you as soon as you get all fuzzy. light caresses all over your body, so light that you don’t even register them through your high. tickling your little nipples as they poke through your shirt. basically just teasing you till you’re all drippy for them and trembling on top of them like they’ve edged you for hours. 

they don’t really take any of their clothes off, just unzips and such for the ✨important✨ parts of them to spring forth

but they do rip all of your clothes off, not that you really notice till it’s way too late because of how brainless they’ve got you

now, i’m imagining that since you’re all melted, the perfect little pocket pussy for them all, the position you’re often moulded into is like you in their lap, your back completely melted back against them, your legs folded up against your chest while their arms are wrapped around you and their just bouncing you in their laps, using you like a fleshlight

that vibe or they make you cockwarm them if they still gotta have their hands free to play 

they probably tried to get you to move on your own, but you are just way too high to be able to do it, so they settle for just the feeling of your weepy cunt clenching tightly around them as you try to keep up with the bright colours flashing on the tv

oooorrrr maybe someone who isn’t playing (because there are tons of them and there's a limit to how many players there can be at once) can swoop in and help move you. you know, just dudes being dudes, bros being bros and getting each other off, jerking your pal off with the pussy that you’re all head over heels for lol

now, your eyelids feel so so heavy, and at one point you finally loose the battle, but then when you blink them open again, it takes you a while to notice that you’re sitting on someone else’s cock

and if your whining gets too much and starts messing with their concentration of the game, then they just grumble for you to shut up before the person next to you suddenly grabs your hair and folds you over to silence your whimpers and fill up your mouth 

they also get you to say all sorts of nasty things that you’d normally blush and put your foot down at if they tried to make you repeat such filth when you were sober

and if all of this happens after they’ve trained you to take multiple of them at once in your warm little holes, well then you best believe that they make you cockwarm multiple of them at once, filling up all of your holes with at least one dick at a time

now, your stepbro may not have allowed his friends to finish in you that day, but that just means that instead of it leaking out of you, you just get covered in cum :) 

and maybe at the end, the next morning when you wake up, you don’t remember too many details from what happened, just that you played that new game and then you must have fallen asleep on the couch… strange… maybe the guys will just have to remind you then of all of the things that actually happened while you were stoned out of your mind…

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Top of the Class (Professor!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Agatha finally lets you sit in on one of her classes.

Words: 7.1k

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, power imbalance, age gap (all 18+), praise kink, possessiveness, swearing, jealousy, mentions of cock warming, mentions of orgasm denial, mentions of overstimulation, mentions of spanking, edging, fingering (R receiving), choking, strap-on (R receiving), blowjob (R giving), degradation, hair pulling, begging, marking

Agatha’s hand was resting on the top of your head, nails scraping over your scalp as she petted you. Your back was pressed against the sofa, leaning against her leg, cheek resting on her thigh. You’d given up on the book in your lap, eyes closed, luxuriating in the feeling of her. You hummed, shuffling closer.

“Are you falling asleep, pet?”

Her voice was a soft hum, almost amused. You mumbled something, curling one arm around her calf, pressing more insistently against her. Her fingers gave one sharp tug on your hair, pain blooming over your scalp.

“Hey,” you protested.

But it wasn’t enough for you to draw away. Nothing could convince you to stop touching her when she was allowing it. Her warmth was seeping into your body. She wound a strand of your hair around her finger, tugging on it again, this time gentler.

“Are you going to sleep if I leave you here during my class?” she asked.

You buried your face against the muscle of her thigh, refusing to answer. She was not one to promote wasted time. Not unless it was to do something she wanted. Like laze around in bed all day, nothing but caresses and kisses and shared laughter.

“I can’t have you wasting the entire afternoon,” she warned.

“You’re the one who kept me up all night,” you grumbled.

“I didn’t hear you complaining at the time,” she said.

Of course you hadn’t. She’d had your arms tied above your head as she’d kept you on the brink long enough to drive you crazy. You were hardly going to tell her to stop when she was making you feel so good.

“C’mon, just one short nap,” you wheedled, “you won’t even be here to see.”

“Exactly. Don’t you think you should try and get as much work done when I’m not here to…” Her fingers tugged on your hair until you looked up at her, “play with you?”

“How am I meant to when I’m so tired?” you asked.

“If you want to spend the night in your dorm room, be my guest,” she said.

“No,” you said, so fast there was no way to play it off as anything but desperate.

“Then what do you suggest we do?” she asked, “since I clearly can’t trust you on your own.”

“You can trust me. I’m a good girl,” you whined.

“I know you try to be,” she said, fingertips brushing over the apple of your cheeks, “you try so hard. But sometimes you can’t help yourself.”

You whimpered, pressing closer. She lent forward until her breath ghosted over your skin. Her hair, usually wild and free, was pinned up and you could see the long column of her neck. It called to you, begging for your lips to attach to it, your tongue to taste her skin.

“Up here, pet,” she said.

Her finger tilted your chin up until your eyes met hers. The way she was looking at you had your stomach clenching, butterflies springing to life, fire sparking in your veins. It was full of such heat, scorching you, turning your head fuzzy.

“I’m not sure you’ll do as you’re told if left to your own devices,” she said.

“What do you suggest?” you asked, letting yourself gaze at her with undisguised desire.

“I think you’d better join me in class today,” she said.

“I should what?”

You eyes blinked up at her, stomach swooping. You’d never been given the opportunity to watch her teach. When taking one of her classes had felt like a pipe dream, you’d imagined the legend of a woman at a lectern. Now, knowing her, you knew it would ruin you to watch her.

“You need my watchful gaze on you, pet,” she said, “you might even learn something.”

“I promise you I won’t,” you said.

She chuckled, husky, from deep in her chest, making you tremble at her feet. Her knuckles brushed over your cheekbone surprisingly soft.

“And why’s that, pet?” she asked.

“Because all I’ll be able to think about is your mouth, and your fingers, and what you do to me,” you replied.

“And what do I do to you?” she asked.

“Ruin me.”

She seemed pleased with your breathless response, grinning down at you like you were her good little pet, like she was going to swallow you whole, like all your dreams were going to come true. You glowed for her, so pleased, shuffling closer. Maybe you weren’t going to be able to nap, but she was offering you the chance to show her how well you followed orders. You could be so good for her.

An hour later, you were following her across the campus, towards the small lecture theatre that attempted to contain her genius. The usual circle of space was given to the two of you, leaving you in your own bubble with her. It was how you preferred it, not letting the rest of the world in when you were with her. She was the world to you.

Inside the lecture theatre, a group of students sat scattered over the chairs. You watched, a rippling effect of straightening spines, eyes alighting on Agatha. Your Agatha. Of course she got such a response from her students. She was formidable.

Your eyes scanned over the crowd, watching the way they watched her. A few glances passed over your, a mixture of confusion and jealousy. Clearly your reputation had seeped into their collective consciousness, your special place in the ecosystem of Professor Harkness’s teaching career. Too many of them were watching her with an undisguised look of wanting. You recognised it, the same expression on your face when you saw her. The same expression she seemed to find amusing on your features.

“Go take a seat,” she murmured in your ear, her hand on the small of your back nudging you towards the stairs.

You nodded, mute, her breath on your skin raising goosebumps. Even in front of an audience, you couldn’t stop your reaction to her. She was something otherworldly, magical in how she made you feel. Like a magnet, you felt yourself drawn towards her no matter the distance.

You sunk into a chair at the back of the hall, where you could watch her and not be watched by any of her students. You wanted to gaze at her, drink in this moment, watch her in her element. You knew it would wreck you but you craved it, your destruction at her hand. Her eyes alighted on you, a fleeting glance, but you saw it from the tilt of her lips. She knew what she was about to do to you.

With your chin resting in your hand, you could gaze down at her. She waited another few minutes, the air turning electric with anticipation. She fiddled with the laptop, a powerpoint showing behind her. It was familiar, the picture one you’d poured over with her before, heads bent together over a book, close enough that whispers were all you needed. Her shoulder had been pressed against yours, long fingers tracing over the plate, spinning a story for you. When your gaze had inevitably crawled up her arm to her face, she’d already been looking back, blue eyes molten, taking in every single one of your micro expressions. She hadn’t let you kiss her until she was finished telling you the story, but you’d ached to since the first word fell from her lips.

The door crashed open, starting you. A windswept boy hurried in, calling out an apology to Agatha. Her lip curled and those blue eyes flashed dangerously. You watched each sure step as she sauntered over to him. Your stomach clenched and you thought you knew what was coming.

“What time do you call this?” she asked, voice quiet but ringing in the students’ silence. All eyes were watching.

“Sorry Professor Harkness,” the boy said, one hand pushing through his hair, ruffling it in what he must have thought was an attractive way, “traffic was crazy.”

“What did I tell you at the start of the semester?” she asked, head cocking to the side.

You could see him searching for the answer, the slump of his shoulders when he came up empty.

“I told you,” she said, bending down, both hands on the arms of the chair, pinning him under her gaze, “don’t bother showing up if you’re not serious about this class.”

“I am serious. I’m so serious. It was just-” he said.

“Traffic. So you said,” she said straightening up.

You watched him let out a relieved breath, relaxing back into the seat. Agatha turned on her heels and you held your breath.

“Get out,” she said.

The boy stiffened.

“But I am serious,” he argued, “you know I’m serious about this class. I need this to graduate.”

“You should have thought about that before you were late,” she said, not even looking at him to add insult to injury, “everyone was informed that I don’t accept late arrivals. Either show up early or not at all.”

He stood, face going a splotchy red.

“Bitch,” he spat.

She was slow to turn and you could tell from the set of her lips that she was angry. Hidden, secret, not obvious unless you’d spent a lot of time with her, you weren’t sure any of the students realised. The boy certainly didn’t. He had no idea how deep in shit he was.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that if you’re hoping to hurt my feelings,” she replied.

“It’s one minute. What’s it matter?” he demanded.

“The second you start allowing standards slip is the second you give up. I have no interest in teaching burn outs. Get out of my class,” she said.

He stared at her for a moment before he snatched up his bag. His stomping footsteps echoed as he left again, under the watchful gaze of the rest of the students. The door was loud as it slammed shut behind him.

Your thighs clenched together under your tiny table, breathless, mouth dry, heart thundering. Blue eyes found you and the warmth in your cheeks was for no one but her.

“Does anyone else have something they wish to add before I begin class?” she asked, voice carrying through the room.

Quiet negatives came from every corner of the room. You couldn’t look away as a smile spread over her face.

“Good,” she said, “then let me tell you a story.”

You settled back in your seat, the familiar story washing over you. You didn’t need to concentrate, knowing the story, having heard it in her husky voice, late at night, whispered into your skin over and over again, teasing you until you answered her questions correctly while her fingers drew you taut. The same story that played along with the picture of witches dancing in the moonlight hand in hand with demons.

No, you paid attention to her body, rather than her words. The way her hands moved through the air, illustrating something only she could see. Her voice rose and fell, lingering on certain words, her tongue caressing each syllable. She strode up and down, turning dramatically, weaving together a performance that had you throbbing with need.

You melted in your seat, watching her, lips parted, wondering if you could convince her to take you on her desk when you returned to her office. You were being so good. She had to reward you. She had to.

She paused, eyes dragging up to you. You watched as her tongue dragged along her lower lip, her pause deafening. Your own teeth sunk into your lower lip, imagining your own tongue following the same path. Her head titled. And then she was off again, continuing her lecture.

You inhaled sharply, looking away for a moment. You could pick out the students that were hanging on her every word, those that lent forward in their chairs, wanting to be closer to the sparkling woman. She might have had a reputation around campus, but those who managed to stick it out clearly found her as intriguing as you did.

You hated the thought of them thinking about her the way you did. Fantasising. Imagining. Working hard to please her the same way you did in the hopes they would be singled out. That she would look at them as if they were special. As if they would be the one to break through the hard exterior.

You were the only one who got to see beyond the performance to the woman underneath. And you were certainly the only one that got to benefit from those long fingers and flashing eyes and cruel smirk. No one else was hers.

No one else had a claim over her. Just you. Only you. Always you.

Your eyes slipped back to her, finding her leaning towards another one of her students. They were gazing up at her, dazzled, and your jaw clenched. But then her head tipped up and she caught your eye and you knew she was doing it on purpose. She wanted you watching. She wanted you paying attention. She wanted you jealous.

So you sat back in your chair, fingers combing through your hair, playing with the ends. The soft flannel of your shirt fell down towards your elbows, her perfume a permanent scent embedded in the material. She’d never asked for it back after you’d stolen it, the purple material a comfort when she wasn’t around.

You tipped your chin down, watching her intently. Her lips pulled up into a half smirk, leaning away from the student. She turned away from you, hands resting in her pockets, continuing on with the story. Letting your eyes sweep over her body, all you wanted to do was slip between her legs, taste her skin, hear her moan. You loved the noises she made when you were knuckles deep inside her.

The next time those eyes found you, you slipped your fingertip into your mouth, cheeks hollowing, maintaining eye contact with her. There was no stutter, no break in her words, no stumble, but you saw the way her fingers clenched.

If she was playing with you, you’d play right back.

You rested your fingers around your own throat, waiting for her to look back. You tipped your head back, lips parting, hooded eyes daring her to do something. Her shoulders tightened and her words came out a touch sharper than you were sure she’d intended them to be.

Then she gifted a smile to one of the girls in the front row. Not her usual smile. The one that she usually bestowed on you when you were particularly brilliant. You didn’t like the way your heart thudded. It reminded you that she would always hold so much power over you. With a single word she could break you.

Although, you might be able to break her too, if you ever lost your mind and wanted to hurt her.

When her gaze sought you out again, you knew you were looking at her like you wanted her to throw you down on the floor and have her way with you in front of all of her students. That you were imagining the pleasure she could give you. That you were thinking of the ways she could make you scream.

Her own eyes darkened, tongue wetting her lips again. Your lips parted on a soft sigh, fingertips trailing over your own skin in a mirror of the path hers had taken over your body that morning. You traced her name into your skin, slow enough for her to realise what you were doing. The expression on her face was nothing but raw need.

You thought you’d won the game she’d started. Your checkmate move, the one that always had her melting. Making it clear you were hers and hers alone, and that you were proud of the fact. That you luxuriated it. That you loved being claimed by her.

You spent the rest of the class watching her, gazing with what you were sure was a lovesick look, tracing her name over and over again into your skin as you considered all the ways you wanted to show her your appreciation for letting you join her class. And hopefully earn you another invitation.

You were beginning to grow drunk on her, addicted to her, salivating over her as she strode around the room, hands waving, fingers curling in a move you found very familiar. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, holding in the moan that wanted to be heard.

She wrapped up the lecture, those eyes finding you again, lips curling up when she saw the state you were in. You shifted in your seat, squirming when her expression darkened. Lingering, you stayed in your seat as the students filtered out, a few staying behind to ask questions. She waved them away, her gaze caught on you.

You lent back, watching her approach from under hooded eyes. Hands in her pockets, she exuded powered, the kind that was heady and addictive and delicious. She walked through the row in front of you, leaning over the chair to draw closer to you.

“Did you learn something, pet?” she asked.

“Uh huh.” You nodded, leaning towards her.

“And what did you learn?” she asked.

“That I’m going to have to keep you chained up in your house,” you said, “you’re entirely too sexy when you teach and I’m not the only one who notices.”

“What on earth could you mean?” she asked, widening her eyes, affecting innocence.

“I think you know the exact effect you have on them,” you said, leaning in until you were only a hair’s breadth from her.

“What effect do I have on you?” she asked.

“How about you come here and find out,” you suggested.

Her hand grasped your chin, nails digging into your cheeks. Your mouth fell open, a soundless beg for her to come closer. When her eyes dipped down to your lips, you strained against her hold to get closer.

“You think you’re in control here? You think your little display will get you what you want? You think you have any say in how I teach my students?” Her lips brushed against yours, featherlight and ghost-like, “you have sorely miscalculated, pet.”

The flash of heat that went through you was embarrassing. You shouldn’t be so ready for her with so little work on her part. Leaning into her touch, you whimpered, just loud enough for her to hear you.

“You spent the entire class testing my patience,” she growled.

“I was being good for you,” you said.

“You were being a dirty whore. A spectacle. If anyone had seen you they would have known what a desperate little slut you are. Is that what you want? Do you want all my students to know how needy you are for my cock?” Her fingernails only dug in harder.

“Want them to know I’m the only one you touch,” you whimpered.

Her smirk wasn’t kind, full of malice while you could only beg for her.

“You’ve been nothing but a distraction, pet. You were meant to be good for me while I taught but you’re nothing but a naughty pet that needs to be punished.” The way her voice lowered into something husky, a rasp of a voice, had your thighs clenching again, “come on.”

She stood, releasing your face and you felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach. You hurried after her, rushing down the steps until her arm caught you around the waist, dragging you closer. Her kiss was searing, far too short by half, and you whimpered when she drew away.

Following her back across campus, you didn’t even notice the way people jumped out of her way. What you did notice was a few of the students still milling about, their eyes finding Agatha without pause, turning to her like she was the sun. Your stomach churned again.

You were the only one to lay claim over her. She was yours, not theirs, no matter what they seemed to want. She’d made it clear you were hers in every sense of the word.

Her hand curled around your wrist as she entered the history building, tight enough for you to feel secure with her. You liked when it became hard to know where you ended and she began. Having her wrapped so tightly around you was one of those things you loved but never told her. She’d tell you to stop being so sentimental.

Pushing her door open, she flung you inside, slamming the door behind her. Ignoring your pleading eyes, she took a seat behind her desk. Her legs spread wide, chin resting in her hand, watching you as you stood there, waiting for some kind of instructions. You felt breathless under that gaze, wanting to climb into her lap, to ride her thigh, to do anything you were allowed to ease the need that had been coursing through your veins since she’d begun her lecture.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, her eyes sweeping over your body, “even under careful watch you just can’t help yourself.”

“You’re just too-“

“Oh no,” she interrupted, “you’re not blaming your behaviour on me.”

Her fingers began to tap on the arm of her chair, considering you with an intensity that made you tremble.

“Were you hoping to make a fool of me in front of my students? You thought you had that power over me? That your childish antics would get a response from me?” she asked, displeasure colouring her words.

“You did react,” you said, knowing it was the wrong thing to say.

Her fingers gently tugged at the buttons of her shirt, opening it, exposing inch after inch of skin. Your mouth grew dry, eyes trained on it. There was no chance this was going the way you wanted and yet you couldn’t see the downside as you watched her.

Lace peeked out, inviting you in, tempting you to fall to your knees in front of her. She paused, dragging one finger up her chest, neck arching back before dropping down to look at you again.

“Come here, pet,” she commanded.

You did, unable to stop yourself even if you’d wanted to. Slipping between her and the desk, you reached a hand out to her, wanting to feel her beneath your touch. She slapped your hand away.

“Good girls get to touch,” she said, “and I see no good girls here.”

Quicker than you could catch, she had stood, hand on your body turning you, pressing your hips into the edge of her desk. You gasped. Her breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, hands pinning yours to the surface of the desk.

“Bad girls get punished,” she whispered.

Her tongue ran up the length of your neck. You shivered, hips pressing back into her, feeling the bulge in her trousers, the thick length you knew was hidden in there. After all, you’d seen her put it on that morning. She shoved you forward again, the edge painful as it dug in. You whined but she did nothing, keeping you pinned against her desk, unable to touch, to taste, to sink into her.

“How shall I punish you?” she hummed, lips brushing the vulnerable skin of your neck.

“Agatha,” you whined.

“I could refuse to give in to you, not touch you for a good long while, not let you cum until I feel you’ve learnt your lesson,” she said, still whisper soft

“Please,” you whimpered.

“I could have you warm my cock until the end of the day, and for every single time you distract me as I try to get my work done, I get to think of new punishments for you,” she suggested.

“Please,” you tried again.

“Or maybe I should have you cum over and over again until you can’t take it any more. Give you everything you want since you’re so needy,” she whispered, “and then when you think you can’t take any more, I just keep going since you wanted it so badly. You’ll take as much as I say you will and you’ll thank me for it. Every. Single. Orgasm.”

You were breathless, caught against her desk, pinned without the chance to move. Her lips kept ghosting over your skin, breath brushing until you shivered. Her teeth tugged on your earlobe, and the warmth was spreading, throbbing between your legs until you weren’t sure you could stay upright if she wasn’t keeping you there.

“I could spank you. Your skin would look so pretty with my handprints all over it,” she mused.

“I need you,” you whined.

“Unfortunately, pet, this isn’t about what you need, or what you want, or how good you think you are. This is about me teaching you a lesson,” she said, “I am your professor, after all.”

The shot of pleasure that went through you at the reminder, that you were one of her students, that this was wrong and most would frown upon it. They just didn’t understand. No one could understand the connection you had with your Agatha.

“How about we start with this and see what happens?”

She grasped both of your hands in one of hers, the other slipping past the waistband of your jeans. She chuckled, low in her throat when she felt how wet you were. You let out a shaky breath both unsure what she wanted from you, but wanting to give it to her.

Her finger was slow as it circled over your clit. Your breath was loud to your own ears. Soft lips attached themselves to your skin, sucking at your pulse point, tongue pressing down to feel your blood thrum. Her hips ground against your ass, pushing you more firmly against her fingers.

“Did you enjoy your little display in class?” she asked, whispered into your skin, “did you enjoy trying to take control?”

You couldn’t move as her fingers were slow on your bundle of nerves. You made a small noise, a whimper or a moan or something that was pathetic with need. Her teeth nipped at your skin, not gentle but not as harsh as she’d been with you before. It was like butterflies exploding in your stomach all over again.

“Such a display for me,” she murmured, “I think you’d like my fingers to make a pretty necklace for you.”

“Yes,” you hissed.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you touched yourself. My name was a nice touch, pet. Because you are mine. My little pet to play with.”

You whimpered at her words.

“Do you like that? You like being mine? Mine to do with as I please?” Her lips brushed over her skin, “do you like being owned by me, pet?”

“Uh huh,” was all you managed to say as her fingers continued to play with your clit.

“You know what I enjoy most about owning you?” she asked, voice a soft murmur.

You let out a desperate noise in answer. You felt her smile against your skin.

“I have complete control over you,” she said.

Her fingers were rough, nothing but harsh strokes, drawing you closer to the precipice. You were trying to rock against them, to chase your high like the needy thing you knew you were. You were panting, pinned to the desk, not even feeling the pain of it anymore, so focused on the way she was making you feel.

Her fingers stilled. Your pained cry only seemed to amuse her, the chuckle a vibration through her chest.

“Agatha,” you pleaded.

“Complete.” Her thumb stroked over your clit again, “control.”

She held you there, fingers still resting against you, but not giving you the friction you needed. She ignored you, every noise you made, every wiggle of your hips, every pleading gasp of her name. It was torture, having her there and not being given what you wanted.

“I do own you, don’t I, kitten?” she asked, voice low, a note of something new in her voice.

“Yes,” you gasped, “I’m yours.”

She groaned, face buried in your neck. The way she kissed your skin, nipping, sucking, tongue tasting however much she could reach was surprisingly desperate. Even pinned to the desk, hands held in one strong grip, only able to sigh her name, you felt the way she pressed closer to you.

Her fingers sunk into you, so easily, your wetness making it so simple. You threw your head back, her name sweet honey on your tongue as she forced you back to the edge. So close, you could taste it. Fingers curling within you, stroking you, turning your head hazy. There was nothing you could do but clench your fingers and let her do as she wanted with your body.

You trembled, legs shaking, your moans so loud in the quiet office. You felt it in your lower stomach, the melting of fire through your veins, the beginning of muscles fluttering. Her hand stilled, slipping out of you.

“No,” you groaned.

“This is a punishment, pet,” she reminded you.

Her hand slipped out of your trousers, hand curling around your throat. Your slickness smeared over your skin and you couldn’t even care. You could happily become whatever mess she wanted you to be if she would only touch you again.

With her hold on you, she managed to get you to turn your head. Her lips descended on yours, soft despite the tight grip she had on you. When her tongue slipped between your lips, tasting you until you were melting, whimpering, pressing closer. She chuckled, teeth sinking into your lower lip, pulling on it. You were nothing but your base desires, needing her closer, needing her in every way. She possessed you in every single way it was possible to own another person.

“Have you learnt your lesson?” she mumbled against your lips.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“I’m not sure you have,” she said, drawing back.

“Agatha,” you whined.

“I do so love the way you say my name,” she said, eyes sweeping over you.

The fingers around your throat tightened. The noise you made was so pathetic, the auditory embodiment of need. Her eyes hard darkened, smouldering, molten as she looked at you.

“Do you want my cock, kitten?” she asked.

“Yes please,” you whimpered.

“So polite.” She let your hands go and gently stroked your hair, “keep your hands on the table and I might just let you have it.”

With one hand around your throat, the other dove back into your underwear, stroking through your dripping folds. Thumb grinding against your clit, the way you whined only seemed to drive her on. She was grinding against your ass and you were desperate for her. Your nails dug into the wood of the desk, doing everything in your power to keep them there as she did everything in her power to drive you mad with nothing but her fingers.

You were so sensitive under her touch, each stroke sending shockwaves through you. You trembled, every nerve ending on fire. Her hand only tightened around your throat until your airways cut off. Your fingers clenched, hips trying to rock against her, tears pricking at your eyes. You wanted her so much. You could taste your orgasm, could practically see it. It was right there, right within reaching distance. One more second and it would break over you.

Her hand pulled free again and the tear fell. She kissed it away from your cheek, tongue catching it. Releasing your throat, her body disappeared from behind you. You shivered in the chill, the frustration nothing but a familiar friend when it came to her. Her chair creaked.

“Turn around, pet,” she commanded.

You did, finding her leaning back in her chair, thighs spread, purple strap bobbing in the air. You swallowed, eyes trained on it.

“On your knees, pet.”

You fell immediately, the sharp pain not even registering. Crawling forward, you looked up at her, waiting for more orders. Her hands gently ran through your hair, blue eyes dazzling as she held your gaze.

“Go on,” she said, “suck my cock like the dirty whore I know you are.”

Your tongue ran up the length of it before you sucked the tip into your mouth. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, but you knew how to follow instructions, and if you were good enough you’d be rewarded. Her fingers were tangled in your hair, guiding you further down.

You did your best to relax your throat, taking her as deeply as you could. Her hips pushed up, lips quirking up as you gagged around her cock. Slowly pulling up again, you suckled on the tip before sliding down again. Her fingers tightened in your hair, the sharp pull making you moan around the silicone.

“Look at you. So good as sucking cock,” she murmured, voice husky, “you belong on your knees, pet.”

Her praise had you pressing your thighs together again.

“So pretty and all mine,” she sighed.

You redoubled your efforts, wanting more of her praise. You wanted to be her good girl. You wanted her to know you would do anything for you. You wanted to give her everything she deserved.

“Could spend all day like this with you. I’ve imagining it, you know. Sitting at this desk, you under there on your knees, your mouth put to work. Just imagine, sitting here, your mouth on me, as I’m doing office hours with my students. What do you think they’d do if they knew? If they could see you being so good for me? If they knew your rightful place was on your knees for me?” Her fingers sharply pulled on your hair, “but then I don’t want to share this sight with anyone.”

You groaned around her cock. Something in her softened.

“No, this sight is all for me,” she said, and you whimpered at the reverence in her voice.

Your hands grasped her bare thighs, head bobbing, guided by her hands in your hair. The way she praised you was so delicious, emptying your head of anything but her. There was only this, and the way you felt on fire with her. The ache of your knees was so distant, focused as you were on her.

“Such a pretty pet,” she murmured, “c’mere.”

Her hands in your hair pulled you off her with an indecent noise. Climbing to your feet, you looked down at her, wanting to touch and to taste and to melt into her. Her hands were steady as they unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down over your hips. You kicked them off. Her fingers ran along the waistband of your panties, your muscles jumping under her touch.

“I was going to keep you wanting as punishment,” she mused, “but you’ve been so good and I just can’t resist you.”

She lent forward, lips pressing to your lower stomach. Looking up your body, her eyes sparkled.

“You’re irresistible to me, kitten,” she whispered into your skin.

Her fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear, dragging them slowly down your legs. You gasped when her tongue dove between your folds, tasting you, her soft hum going through you like electricity.

“You’re dripping for me,” she said.

Her tongue brushed over your clit, hips jumping towards her. She hummed again, a soft suckle against your bundle of nerves. Your hands landed on her shoulders, gripping tightly to keep your knees from collapsing beneath you.

“Please,” you begged, “Agatha.”

“Come here, pet.”

She positioned you on top of her, knees either side of her lap. When you sunk down onto her cock, you let out a low noise, relieved. Her hands grasped your hips tightly, keeping you there, holding you still. You tried to squirm, pushing your face into the crook of her neck, hiding your embarrassment from her.

“No, no, no, pet. I’m going to watch you unravel,” she said, lips brushing against your temple.

You stayed hidden, hips shifting, until she pinned you down. Held there, full up with her cock, you were a live wire, desperate and needy and losing your mind.

“If you want me to fuck you, you know what you have to do,” Agatha murmured, grip on you tightening.

Your shame wasn’t comparable to your need. You emerged from your hiding place, looking down at her, cheeks heating from the expression of raw desire on her face.

“That’s my good pet,” she said.

Her hands guided you up, just an inch, before pulling you down again. It wasn’t enough, but you couldn’t do anything but clutch at her shoulders. She was in complete control, you were nothing but hers to do with as she pleased. She watched you with greedy eyes, drinking in everything.

Your hips rocked against her, taking her strap as deep as it would go. You clenched around it, not able to help yourself. She’d brought you towards the edge too many times. All you could think about was giving in and doing anything you could to get your orgasm.

Bouncing on her cock, your fingers dug into her shoulder. The way she looked at you was pure liquid heat, eyes blown wide as you kept saying her name over and over again. Your head tipped back, exposing your throat to her. Her lips attached, as you knew they would, painting such pretty bruises on your skin.

Her fingers found your clit again, stroking you as you rode her as hard as she’d let you. You were a gasping mess atop her, chasing your orgasm with wild abandon. She wasn’t soft with you, taking everything she wanted, all you were willing to give, rough and demanding. She growled into your skin, teeth sinking in, fingers pressing bruises into your flesh. You were a wild animal, crying her name, clawing at her, wound so tight.

With one stroke, she broke the tension.

Your orgasm crashed into you. Your muscles stiffened, her name a strangled noise, holding on. Her fingers kept stroking you, drawing it out, making it last as long as she could as you milked her cock for all it was worth. The aftershocks kept you twitching as you fell forward, her arms catching you, gasping out your thanks to her.

She kissed your forehead, hair sticking to sweat coated skin. You pushed closer, wanting to feel her heart beat in time with yours. Her hands were running over your skin, along the line of your spine under your shirt, lips brushing over every inch of you she could reach.

You reached for her face, blindly pulling her into a kiss, soft and sated and relaxed. The way she kissed you back was nothing short of a claiming, kissing you deeper and deeper. With her still buried in you, all you could do was mewl, fingers pushing past the pins in her hair, clutching at her.

“Did you enjoy yourself, kitten?” she asked when she drew away.

“Yes,” you breathed, a whisper in the air shared between the two of you, faces still so close together.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are when you’re cumming on my cock?” she murmured, “how did I get so lucky to capture you?”

It was the most sentimental thing she’d ever said to you. You felt yourself melting. Your lips brushed hers, so gentle it made your heart ache.

“I should come to your classes more often,” you said.

Her chuckle sent your heart racing again.

“Clearly you haven’t learnt your lesson,” she said, “I knew I shouldn’t have indulged you.”

“Why did you?” you asked, nuzzling closer.

Her hands were still caressing your skin and you felt her breath ghost over your temple. Her kiss was soft, nose brushing over your skin, tongue darting out to taste you for a just a moment.

“Because I can’t say no to you, kitten. Not really,” she murmured and you wondered if you were actually meant to hear it.

She let you stay curled around her for longer than you’d expected, on her lap, arms curled around your body. Your eyelids fluttered shut. Every time she moved you felt her strap shift within you. The way the heat of pleasure settled under your skin was pleasant, not desperate yet, but comforting and soft and warm. Familiar. You felt safe and cared for, right there in her lap and in her arms.

“You should probably get dressed,” she said after some time had passed.

“Don’t wanna,” you replied, lips brushing her throat from your spot against her body.

“I’m all for you staying right here but I didn’t lock the door and if someone comes in they might have questions,” she said, “questions I’m happy to answer about bad girls needing discipline but you might not want everyone to know you can’t follow simple orders.”

“I can follow orders,” you protested.

“Then get dressed, pet” she said.

You whimpered when she slipped out of you, feeling empty without her cock inside you. She lent forward, snatching up your underwear before you could. She shoved them in the pocket of her trousers as she tugged them back into place, looking for all the world like she hadn’t just been inside you.

You dragged your jeans up your legs. She carefully buttoned them up for you, fingers brushing your skin. The look in her eye when she looked up at you was so full of something it took your breath away. You wished you could name it but all you knew was it made you feel like you’d been dunked in oil and set alight. It only got stronger as you buttoned up her shirt, hiding the lace from view again. Your fingers lingered in the dip between her her collarbones, such a vulnerable spot, so soft under your fingertips.

“Go on, pet. I know you have work to be getting on with,” she said, gently pushing your hand away.

“But I’m so tired,” you whined.

“Don’t be a brat,” she scolded but there was a twinkle in her eye, “I’m not sure you could handle any more punishment today.”

You held out just long enough to let her know you were thinking about it. You dropped onto the sofa, doing exactly what she’d told you. More work. Always more work on your thesis.

But you couldn’t wait for the next time she brought you to class with her.

[lucidwntrr]

hihi! hru? i hope ur doing well!!

i thought of a juicy fic idea !! imagine pink fuzzy handcuffs (lmao me and my sabrina carpenter moment) on taehyun while using a vibrator on him! (handcuffs are a must because if he realized how good it felt he’d push your hand away, he just wouldn’t accept the overwhelming pleasure)

finally showing him that he doesn’t always have to be the dom one in the relationship—that he can also enjoy it as a sub as well meheheh :3

i like how you think…but i also hope you like this fic <3 !!

── tags: smut, switch!taehyun, vibrators, very minor overstimulation, some crying, edging, his submissive awakening, kind of dialogue heavy wc: 2.7k

“baby,”

you and taehyun have been making out and grinding against each other for the past 15 minutes. it wasn’t messy, just languid kissing with some tongue in between.

your hips twitching against taehyun’s bulge, and his rising up against you. it was like a slow dance between you too, very sensual.

“we’ve been at this for so long.” he groans, dragging a hand down your bag to grab your ass softly. he doesn’t mind kissing you, but he was getting impatient and aching for more.

you moan, “are you not enjoying this?”

he grinds against you, making you moan as you feel his hard cock press against you.

“of course i’m enjoying this, but…” his voice trails off into a whisper as he captures your lips into another kiss, sliding his tongue with yours. “we can keep doing it while i fuck you.” he finishes, biting on your lip as he pulls back.

“mmm,” you moan at that, you can’t deny that letting him fuck you with his large cock did sound pretty good right now.

“yeah, that sounds nice right?” he teases, slipping a hand between your pressed bodies and rubbing a finger against the wet spot that adorned your panties.

you whimper, pressing your hips against his finger while nodding your head and taehyun hums in approval.

“you get the lube and i’ll take these of, hm?” he suggests, pulling at the waistband of his boxers with his thumb.

you slide of the bed and rummage through the drawer beside it for lube. while searching, you did find what you were looking for. but you also found your vibrator and fuzzy, pink cuffs that taehyun hasn’t used on you in a while.

you peer back at taehyun who was distracted, lazily stroking his dick.

you grab the items and hold them behind your back, slowly climbing back into the bed with a smile. he turns his head to look at you, sitting up and resting on his elbows.

“why are you smiling like that,” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at you. you shrug your shoulders, sucking in your bottom lip.

“what are you hiding behind you?” his eyes travel to where your arms resided behind your back.

“nothing,” you drag out the word and taehyun chuckles, rising up and getting close so you’re face to face.

“you teasing me,” he whispers, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, pressing on the plush skin. “come on, you see how hard i am?” he gestures to his throbbing dick.

“be a good girl and let me fuck you,” he finishes, kissing down your neck. you giggle, his soft lips tickling you. he huffs, leaning back and looking at you with slitted eyes. “what is it?”

“i want to try something,” you vaguely say, shrugging your shoulders again. taehyun nods his head and caresses your cheek, a gesture that says continue.

you pull your hands from behind your back, pink cuffs in one hand and your vibrator in the other, also pink.

“you’re vibrator?”

you eagerly nod your head, eyes switching between looking at taehyun’s confused face and the objects in your hand.

“what do you want to do with that, want me to use it on you like i have plenty of times,” he smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in.

you shake your head and point a finger at him.

“me? you want to use it…on me?” his hand drops from your waist as he processes what you were suggesting.

“yes,”

he laughs, shaking his head. “and where do you plan to use that, hm?” you don’t say anything, instead reaching a hand down to his dick and taehyun moans.

“i-i don’t think it would do much for me,” he responds, his voice breathy as you touch all over him gently.

“have you ever tried,” he shakes his head. “then how would you know, you’re truthfully missing out.” you state your case, wanting this more than you thought.

“am i,” he asks. “i can just take your word for it and you could let me fuck you now.”

with a pout you say, “b-but it feels good, i promise.” you hold out a pink finger for him to take.

he accepts it with a sigh, always a sucker for your pouty face. your bottom lip pushed out and they way your eyes get wide always makes him weak.

“so, you want to use a vibrator on me for the first time,”

“and handcuffs-!” you interject, holding up the fuzzy toy and dangling it in his face.

he scoffs with a laugh, “and cuffs?”

“please,” you rub a hand over the tip of his cock and taehyun shivers, his eyes fluttering just a tad bit.

“you’re lucky i trust you,” he smiles.

you celebrate on the inside, but only smile on the outside. “i’ll take care of you, promise.”

“you better.” he bites back, but something about those words made his skin prickle. he just shakes it off as nerves. he pushes back against the headboard of the bed, hands in his lap as he patiently waits for you.

you grab the cuffs and shuffle towards him, taking his arms and placing them about his head.

“this feels familiar,” he jokes. he recalls the times that the fuzzy item was around your wrists, holding your hands behind your back as he fucks you hard. his dick twitches at the memory.

you smile, taking one of his wrists and gently click the cuffs in place. you wrap the chain the links the two pieces together behind the bar of the headboard before bounding his other wrist.

“all good,” you ask, “it’s not too tight is it?”

“it feels fine,” he sighs, flexing his fingers and moving is wrists, testing the cuffs and getting used to feeling of being restrained. he wouldn’t admit that his heart was racing, just a tad bit.

“you’ll tell me if it hurts, right?” you caress the skin around the cuffs. you admire how pretty the pink of the restraints looked around his tanned skin.

“yes, i’ll tell you,” he answers. “now are you going to use the vibrator on me or not?”

you get eye level to him, the smug look on his face makes your body hot with determination. you grab him by the face gently, “so demanding for someone that’s at my mercy.”

he laughs, his tongue coming out to lick your lip. “i’m just waiting to see if it’s going to be what you talked it up to be…”

you huff, grabbing the vibrator and lube. you squirt just a little onto taehyun’s still hard dick. he hisses at the cold gel and sighs when you rub it in.

you turn the vibrator on, just on the first setting, the lowest it can go. slowly, you bring it down to his now wet dick and press it against the base.

“ahh…” he moans, quickly biting on his lip to hold back the next one. it surprised him is all, the vibrations were new but not unwelcome.

“can you feel that?” you ask, dragging it up his length.

“i- mmph, yeah…” he breaths out, letting go of his lip as his hips jerk. “is this- is this the highest setting?” he stutters, looking at the toy in your hand and swallowing a moan.

“no, it’s the lowest…” you slowly say, twirling the wand and checking to see if that was what it was actually on (it was).

“that’s the lowest-fuck“ he moans, his head lolling back and eyes slipping closed. if this was just the first setting, he doesn’t know if he can take the highest, let alone just the next setting up.

you hum, bringing the vibrator up to his tip. circling it around the wet head. you were enjoying having control over this. it was different, hot even, how you had taehyun squirming. “how’s it feel here?”

taehyun’s body trembles, his toes curling, his face turning pink in embarrassment at how much that thing was affecting him.

“s-sensitive there,” he gasps, his hands struggling in the restraint, wanting to move the toy away from the spot. he should’ve known that, he twitches when you blow him, your tongue viscously twirling around his pink tip.

you move it back down, taehyun’s body relaxes and he swallows, relieved. and for a while you keep it calm, slowly dragging the toy up and down.

until you suggest turning it up a notch. taehyun’s head pops up, his eyes a little frantic as he says, “already?”

with a laugh, you take your hand and start jerking him off while holding the vibrator. “fuck,” he moans.

“why, you afraid you’re gonna cum?” you tease, holding the toy on his leaking tip.

“n-no, just …” he starts, his words trailing off as he bucks his hips into the vibrator. sucking in his bottom lip again, a pathetic whimper bubbling in his throat.

“just….” you repeat, mocking him and turning the power up one as you said it.

“oh my god, baby,” the whine that he wanted to hold back, leaped out of his throat. his eyes rolling back and his hands balling into fist, fingers digging into the skin of his palm.

he couldn’t admit that the toy really was taking a toll on him. even though i’m sure his body was already betraying him, the way he could feel his dick leak, the wet sounds of the vibrations against it lewd.

he couldn’t admit that he kind of liked this side of you, you being in control and having your way with him. mocking him about how he can’t handle something you’ve used on them countless times.

he just couldn’t.

“wanna know a spot where it will feel really good?” you coo. taehyun’s eyes were a little glazed, his face contorted in confusion and pleasure, like he was having an internal battle with himself.

he just nods, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. he had an idea of where you could be talking about, but he still wasn’t prepared when you actually did it… you move the toy to the underside of his dick, pressing the vibrator right against his frenulum-

“fuck fuck fuck fuck…” he mindlessly moans, his back arching and hips trying to move away from the intense pleasure. the chain rattling against the headboard as he tugs against the restraint.

“how’s that?” you whisper, leaning into his ear. taehyun shivers with an unwarranted moan, wishing his hands were free so he could cover his mouth and hide his embarrassing sounds.

“so - so good, it’s so good i can’t…” he whimpers for the first time, his pitch raising an octave, his voice airy. he felt vulnerable having this side of him exposed like this. he couldn’t think with it pressing against his frenulum like that, his brain filled with fog. “‘s so intense.” his words slur a little.

“yeah?”

he hums, nodding his head slowly.

“ready for the next one?” you give him no time to prepare, kicking the vibrator up two levels.

“mm, baby~” he drawls out, kicking up his hips against the vibrator. you don’t even move your hand, he fucks himself against it.

he can feel his orgasm building up, the vibrations against his dick just too much. you were right, he was missing out, he was enjoying this, but he won’t tell you that.

all he needs is a little more..

right there-

just like that…

“no, why’d you stop…” taehyun whines when you cut the vibrator off and glide your hand along his trembling thigh. “it felt so good.” if he had half a mind he would cringe at himself for being so whiny, practically begging for more. but right now he didn’t care. he just wanted to feel good, have the vibrations back.

“admit it.” you say, squeezing the flesh.

taehyun can feel his face heat up, his eyes going everywhere around the room except your face. “admit what?” he fakes innocence, flexing his fingers. he knew actually what you wanted.

“you like it, don’t you?”

he whimpers, in protest and embarrassment. a tiny pout on his face. you’ve never seen him look so cute before, while having sex atleast, and it ignites a part of you that you didn’t know you had.

“i won’t turn this back on until you do,” you wave the vibrator in front of him. taehyun’s eyes following it hungrily, his dick twitching against his thigh.

he shakily breaths, panting almost. “okay you were right baby,” he starts, licking his dry lips before continuing. “i like it- i do, i like how it feels on my dick. now please-“

“please, what?” you push, wanting to see how far he would go for his pleasure. you were genuinely surprised when he said,

“please please please keeping using it on me baby,” he pleads, his eyes glistening and his wrists tug at the cuffs.

“easy baby,” you rub his cheek with your thumb and he nuzzles into it, settling back with a nod.

you turn the toy back on. just to be a tease, you leave it on the lowest setting, knowing it won’t be enough for him at this point.

“uhnn, don’t be a tease. please turn it up, just one,” he begs, looking at you with his blown pupils, tears threatening to spill.

you position the toy on his frenulum again, rubbing against it and making taehyun choke on a gasp. he wasn’t expecting that again.

“who’s in control here again,” you ask, tilting his head back up that dropped at the pleasure.

“i’m sorry, you are…” he whispers, sticking out his bottom lip. “yes- right there.” he moans when you rub his sensitive tip.

he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. it was too much for him. the toy, the restraints, the way you were speaking to him, it was fucking him up.

he didn’t think he could be submissive, so used to being the one in control. he never thought he could get pleasure from letting you have the reigns for once. dare he say that-

“i love it, i love it- you were right,” he loudly whines. he did, he loved how the vibrations felt, how he couldn’t do anything as you torture his dick, loved how confident you were in dominating him even for it being your first time. he didn’t want it to be the last.

you turn it to the max at that, taehyun shouting and his legs kicking at your sides. it wasn’t enough, but also a lot. his orgasm coming at him full speed.

he curls his fingers into the fuzzy restraints, trying to hold back and not cum, not yet, it feels too good. you rub the wet vibrator against his head, pressing roughly against it.

“baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” he chants, thrusting his hips now against the toy. the tears finally spill and slide down his pretty face. “right fucking there…”

you kiss his wet cheek, “cum then, be a good boy~” you whisper.

and he does. as soon as you uttered the words ‘good boy’ he was spurting. cum flying and hitting his chest, so going as far as to hit his chin.

he moans through it, stuttery little sounds that almost sound like he’s crying.

“so pretty,” you mumble, wiping the tears from his face and clicking the vibrator off when it got too overwhelming for him.

he pants heavily, sniffling and trying to catch his breath. his legs trembled every now and then, cock weakly twitching in his pool of cum.

you unlock the cuffs, removing them from his sore wrists and massage them, taehyun sighs in gratitude, “how was that?” you ask with a smile.

taehyun looks at you with a ‘really’ face and glances at his body covered in cum, “i think i already answered that.”

“i know, i just wanted to hear you say it again.” you laugh and taehyun rolls his eyes.

“thank you, i really enjoyed it,” he says, rubbing your arm. he looks away, his face blooming pink before he admits, “maybe… i’d like to do it again.”

before you can respond, he hops off the bed and makes his way to the bathroom, presumably to wash all the stickiness from his body.

“really?” you loudly shout as you spin off the bed to get to him, taehyun cringing and speeding up his walk. “wait- really?”

“i said maybe, don’t drag it,” he shyly says, shutting you out the bathroom and locking the door. he sighs, his face was hot and he looks down at his dick that was hard again.

dammit.

©lucidwntrr est. 2025

[princessbrunette]

edging. thats what was being done to you apparently. not that you could remember the word for it by that point, you were in too deep. infact, you think, as you lay there on your back with your thighs splayed open — you may have forgotten every word in the english dictionary.

you’d spent the weekend doting after john b and jj, having them stay in your free house — cooking for them, running around after them, doing anything they wanted to do — and now, they were repaying with a token of their appreciation.

“so here’s the thing, i’m like — 99% sure i can make you squirt. tonight. but here’s the catch, i kinda have to treat you a little mean first. keep working you over and over, and just when you’re gonna cum? i take it away.” john b explains as he helps you out of your clothes, the brunettes voice huskier than usual from arousal.

“s’called edging, dude.” jj stands in his boxers, a halfie poking up against the fabric already as he hurriedly moves your discarded clothes off the bed.

“i was getting there, actually? if you’d just, y’know— let me finish?” the two bicker like they always do, john b shrugging a dismissive shoulder at the blonde who ignores him to tackle you down and start mouthing hungrily at your neck. again, you didn’t really remember or care what the conversation was — the details a little fuzzy due to how much you needed them.

that’s how you ended up laying spread eagle, john b laying a warm hand on your inner thigh, soothing you by stroking your skin with his thumb as you cry out at another stolen orgasm. he pulls his lips off your swollen clit, brows raising and lips quirking up at a soft but amused smile. “ah, ah — i know pup. look, s’gonna feel so good soon okay? just let me be mean a little longer.” he disappears once more, you see him do so through your tears and his fingers start squelching on that squishy spot that made you shake.

jj reclines against the headboard, lazily fisting at his cock as he watches — prepping to eventually fuck the daylights out of you.

“yeah yeah, our girl likes it mean. don’t let those puppy eyes fool ‘ya.” jj drawls casually, tongue tucking between his lips in concentrated pleasure as you arch your back, humping against john b’s face.

“oh—oh m—oh it’s coming, s’coming!” you pant, voice high and desperate making the two chuckle. “please lemme have it, please lemme have it!” you beg, voice cracking and through the haze you feel your brunette boyfriend smirk against your parted folds.

“seeing as you begged so nicely. have at it, sweetheart.” he croons before doubling down on your clit, rolling his tongue over and over all whilst pressing up that spot inside you that made you explode. you mewl, crying and bucking against john b’s face until he eventually holds you down — and then you feel yourself really let go, liquid spewing out of you, a feeling you’ve never felt before.

you go to sit up in a trance, a little distressed and panicked at how overwhelming it felt and jj grabs your hand, rolling his thumb over your knuckles.

“nah you’re good pooch. just a lil squirt. never hurt nobody.” he chuckles and you flop back, rolling your hips up against john b’s face lazily but fluidly. “damn.” jj shakes his head, going to squeeze at his cock once more.

what happens next, you could swear you imagined. something out of a pornographic daydream you’d had. john b pulls back, sitting up from between your thighs and you swear he’s an angel. hair all tousled, skin glowing in the low light of the room on your pink bed sheets, your slick glossing his entire lower face. he holds the eye contact with you only for a little, that affectionate little smile of his not dying even when he breaks his gaze to look toward jj.

it’s then you realise that he’s not spoken, and it’s because he’s got your squirt in his mouth.

you’re panting still, coming down — and your brain is all over the place, unable to form a sentence even if you wanted to. you feel disconnected from your body, with no choice other than to simply watch from your post-orgasm paralysis as john b leans over with a playful smirk, grabs jj by the jaw, opens his mouth forcefully and spits your completion inside.

drawing back, a string of spit connects them both for a second— and whilst jj looks stunned, you noticed his fist tighten around his cock as he swallows it down, silenced for once in his god damn life. john b smirks, patting his cheek.

“uh-huh, get that down ‘ya, slick.”

“closest you’ll ever get to kissing me.” jj retorts, recovering his astonishment with red wet lips and wide eyes.

“i can live with that.” john b shrugs nonchalantly, coming back to lean over you like he didn’t just edge you for an hour. grabbing your hips, he effortlessly moves your body to be splayed infront of jj like a gift, and brushes a thumb against your cheek. “anyway, took that like a champ sweetie. you need a break? or are you gonna let jj in there?” he cups your cunt casually and you shudder.

usually you’d require a break, but after what you just witnessed — you needed it now.

[rafesangelita]

♡ when pope doesn’t want to hit you during sex..

warnings: oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, slight dirty talk, angst, finger sucking, mentions of past sexual encounters, reassurance and comfort, brief description of reader being treated poorly, overstimulation, soft sex, praise, reader cries, pope is so gentle and sweet ૮ . . ྀིა⁩

a/n: highly recommend reading bitchy!pogue!reader’s lore if you haven’t already so you could get a better understanding of her <3 this was slightly inspired by the ending of ‘anora’

wc: 1.3k

“pope, pope, pope—” you sounded like a broken record, the man’s name falling off of your lips like a mantra. working his tongue in skillful cirlces around your clit, you shuddered as his grip around your thighs tightened, your back arching off of his sheets with a cry. you didn’t think he had it in him. pope had effortlessly made you scream and cry in overstimulation for the past twenty minutes, your brain fuzzy and vision hazy as he pushed you over the edge time and time again.

“how are you so good at that?” you couldn’t help but ask as pope licked the remnants of you off of his lips, your eyes running down his shirtless form. “well i took a lot of anatomy classes for science and stuff, you know? bodily functions are kinda my thing. jj also might’ve given me some pointers..” you laughed, your chest rising and falling as you basked in your post-orgasm bliss. pope looked up at you sheepishly, sorta in disbelief that he had you of all people here in his room.

deciding to put his shirt back on, pope froze once you pulled at his arm. “what are you doing?” your brows knitted together in confusion when you saw him looking around like you two were finished. “i uhm— i didn’t want to assume that you wanted to have like full on sex, so i was just gonna let you get dressed whenever you felt ready.” you laid there dumbfounded. no guy has ever been this considerate. “are you kidding? i’m not leaving you high and dry..”

pope swallowed thickly when your hand trailed down his frontside, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you palmed him through his shorts. “did jj also give you pointers on how to fuck?” pope shook his head, allowing you to pull him down between your legs. he was rock hard in his boxers and he was still making it all about you. “you got this hard just by tasting me?” your voice was sugary sweet and pope swore he could blow his load right then and there when he felt your fingers working him out of the restraints of his underwear.

“yes,” he nodded, deciding to help you out when one of the charms from your nails got caught in his zipper, “you tasted so good, and you’re also just really, really pretty.” he stammered, the nervous look on his face making you giggle. ‘pretty’ the word was so wholesome, you hadn’t been called that in ages. you were so used to the terms ‘hot’, ‘sexy’, even ‘sinful’, but pretty? you couldn’t decide if you liked the way your heart fluttered in your chest when you heard it.

you shook off the weird feeling that came over you, instead distracting yourself by taking pope’s hand and wrapping your lips around his thumb. “oh, wow! that’s—” pope had never seen such an erotic sight before in his life. not even in the weird porn jj would flash him out of no where. pope could sense a slight energy shift, but ultimately decided that he was just mentally psyching himself out cause he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

once he was prodding at your entrance, you and pope shared a knowing look before he pushed into you, a muffled moan tumbling from your mouth as he groaned, screwing his eyes shut at the sheer feeling of you being wrapped around him. you felt better than what he could’ve ever imagined. warm, wet, and gripping him like a fucking vice. he cursed to himself, hoping, pleading, that he wouldn’t finish quick and make a fool out of himself.

you were already a mess when his head was between your thighs, but feeling him inside you was a totally different thing. he knew exactly how to angle his hips so he could hit that spot that made you see stars behind closed eyes. he was slow and calculated, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. the realization had you feeling exposed and slightly embarrassed.

why wasn’t he being rough?

why wasn’t he using you purely for his own pleasure?

pope leaned down and started leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, taking his hand and intertwining his fingers with your own. “you feel amazing,” he praised, “just perfect.” you blinked, your breath quickening as his lips found their way to yours. your brain wanted you to push him away and tell him that kissing on the lips was too intimate, but your heart had you giving in and kissing him back.

it wasn’t until you and pope were lost in each other’s orbit and his nose was nudging yours ever so gently that you panicked and turned your head away from him. you were losing control, and you needed to get behind the steering wheel fast. ripping your hand from his, you grabbed his shoulders and flipped you two over so you were on top. pope looked surprised, the sudden change in position throwing him for a loop. you reached back, lining him up with your entrance before sinking back down onto his length.

pope let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his hands flying out to rest in the curve where your thighs and your hips met. you started up a steady pace, the man underneath you shamelessly grunting and moaning as you rode him with ease. you refused to look at him or meet his eyes, partly because you were terrified of seeing what you couldn’t handle right now; and that was the gaze of a man who wasn’t viewing you as some kind of sex object, but as an actual living being with emotions and thoughts and aspirations of your own.

pope knew what you did for work but it didn’t bother him. he was concerned about your safety more than anything. your fears came true when pope ran his fingers across your flesh, the look on his face saying it all. he wasn’t just admiring your body, he was cherishing it. every curve, every detail, he was engraving every single thing into his brain in hopes that he wouldn’t have to rely on his memory of you to be the only time he’ll ever see you like this.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you needed to prove that pope was exactly like everyone else. “hit me,” you moaned, grabbing his hand and placing it on your cheek, “please, i want you to do it.” pope felt his heart drop to his stomach, his face twisting in confusion. “hit you? why would i do that?” he stopped you, sitting up against the headboard while you avoided his heated stare. “why wouldn’t you?” you scoffed, “it’s like every guy’s wet dream.”

“it’s not mine.”

that’s exactly what you were afraid to hear. of course pope wasn’t some sick individual who got off on hitting girls and inflicting pain on them— words included. “please, just do it. choke me, pull my hair, anything— i want it.” with his palm still on your cheek, he cradled your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “no, you don’t.” he whispered, stroking your skin with the utmost care.

him being gentle hurt you more than any man who threw you around with no regard ever did. you didn’t know no other way, you didn’t know what it was like to be put first. nor did you know how to outwardly express your appreciation or vulnerability without having to give something away. you stared at him, your resolve crumbling as you cried into his chest, his arms enveloping you immediately. you cried until you couldn’t anymore, all while pope was still nestled inside of you.

he didn’t say a word as he held you tightly, your tears dripping down onto his skin as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. pope already knew what was wrong, his ability to read you and see right through you was uncanny. “no one can hurt you anymore,” he stated, “not in here. not when you’re with me.”

[dameronspector]

Getaway Car (Part 2)

Pairing: Manny Alvarez x GN!Reader, Joel Miller x Platonic!reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Summary: After a tough escape to Jackson, you end up getting taken in by none other than Joel Miller. Still hurt by Manny's actions and the heartbreak, you discover for the first time what it means to be surrounded by family since you were 14 years old. And you'd do anything to save this family, but you were still holding out hope for your love to come back home.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort from Joel, Joel is a father to Reader, Reader misses Manny so much, Mentions of Depression and Panic Attacks, Death, Blood, Gore, Starvation, Joel Miller Is Saved, Reader hates Abby and the group, Manny begs for forgiveness, reunions, that’s all i think!

AN: this part includes: how did Reader build relationships with joel, Ellie and the others. And ofcourse the incident and how Reader saves joel. I’m deciding to split this into three parts now because this is just inspiring me sm. (Sorry if this isnt good I’m editing this at 4 am help)

PS: I don't know anything about the game, my characterisation is based off the wiki information, the show and my own imagination. Plus, I headcanoned the QZ where they first met as Miami because that's Danny's hometown.

Somewhere near Jackson, 2023

You don’t know where you are or what day it was- all you knew that you had to keep going—you had to keep moving and stay vigilant. Max, your beloved horse, was a strong and supportive companion in your lonely journey. You thought he might’ve sensed your heart ache somehow as he would nuzzle closer to you every time you touched foreheads. In return, you made sure to find food and shelter for him, if not for you, as you were too depressed and tired to think about your own health.

Travelling solo across the country was triggering, as you were reminded of the time that you were on the run with your parents. And since then, you were always accompanied by Manny or the others. When you camped down at night, you kept yourself awake by revisiting all the happy moments with your Manny or by crying over him. The way he caressed your head when you were sleeping, the way he held your hands, the way he would crack jokes to cheer you up, his stories from back home—everything. You missed his scent, you missed that he wasn’t here to warm you up in the biting cold at night. You knew he must be losing his mind right now, the inability to protect you and not being able to see you making him insane. But you also knew you had to do this. For you, and as a human being.

The journey wasn't easy. You had some encounters with clickers and managed to roughly escape some raiders with minimal injuries. You tried your best not to stay at one place for a long time and even if you did, you would either hide out in high rise buildings or abandoned homes. Somewhere that had four walls to protect you and Max. Camping out in the open sent your mind went into overdrive as even the smallest of sounds sent you over the edge. So you tried your best to avoid open spaces. All of this was taking a toll on you mentally as you grew more and more paranoid, Manny’s smiling face in the back of your mind was the only thing that kept you alive.

According to the map, you were closer to Jackson now, the thought keeping you motivated to keep pushing. You hadn’t had a proper meal in days. You felt dehydrated and hungry, the feeling of exhaustion taking you back to when you were 14. You tried focusing your eyes in front of you, lazily guiding Max, but you could feel that fuzzy feeling in your head, your eyes slipping shut and your hands constantly dropping the reins, the crisp and cold air making it harder to focus. Max nodded his head and tried to get your attention with a grunt, but you were too far gone and you eventually passed out against his mane, leaving him grunting and neighing, standing still on the spot until he heard someone approach.

Jackson, 2023

“Joel! I see a horse!”, Ellie yelled out to get Joel’s attention. Joel rushed over to Ellie’s side. “You see someone on it?” “I don’t think so, can’t see properly from here.”

Joel nodded and slowly made his way over to the horse, his gun raised and a hand asking Ellie to stay behind the bushes. As he approached the horse, he noticed how the horse kept nodding his head and tried to turn his head behind, as if asking Joel to look over there. Joel held out a hand to soothe the horse and that’s when he noticed someone passed out on the horse’s back.

“Hey, easy, easy. That’s it, that’s a good boy”, he cooed to the horse to calm him down and walked over to check on you. You looked…bad, to put it simply. Your skin was pale, clothes dirtied and you looked sickly because of the lack of food and water. Joel furrowed his eyebrows- he could tell you had come alone, all the way to Jackson, from somewhere far and he understood that the moment he took a look at you. You carried a single backpack, probably filled with essentials only, no visible weapons on you or anything suspicious. You looked young, Joel noted- must be in your late 20s.

Joel stuffed his gun back into the holster and shook you by the shoulders, “Hey- hey, kid? You okay?” You stirred a little at his voice but you were so weak that you slipped from the saddle. Joel immediately caught you in his arms and carefully got you down from the horse. “Fuck- hey-Ellie!”, Joel grunted out. Ellie rushed out from her hiding place and came over to support your legs and helped Joel lift you in his arms.

“Shit, are they okay?”, Ellie asked in concern, taking in your pale and fragile form. Your head lolled into Joel’s chest and he let out a sigh.

“No idea. Likely dehydrated and passed out from exhaustion. Don’t see any injuries or nothin’”, eyebrows furrowed in concern, Joel looked you over once again. You stirred lightly against him, your eyes blearily opened and tried to focus on the person holding you. “Manny…”, you slurred out, Joel strained his good ear to hear you clearly, but to no avail as you were delirious and your speech unclear.

“They’re out of it. We need to take ‘em to the clinic right away. You take the horse to the stables, have him checked, okay?”, Joel instructed Ellie and she nodded her head before carefully taking away Max with her. Joel hoisted you up in his arms and made his way over to the clinic.

-

You woke up to a persistent beeping. The first things you noticed were that your head was pounding, your body aching all over, mouth feeling like someone had stuffed cotton in it and you felt a soft surface under your body. Opening your heavy eyes took a lot of effort, your vision blurry and your mind confused about your whereabouts. When you finally managed to focus your eyes, you noticed the room you were in, it looked like a hospital room and you were lying on a bed. Your initial reaction was to panic, thinking the Fireflies or FEDRA managed to capture you somehow. Your heart rate shot up on the monitor and the nurse came over to soothe you, “it’s okay, relax. You’re safe, I promise.”

You opened your mouth and winced at how dry it was, licking your dry lips to get some moisture back. The nurse seemed to notice this and offered you a glass of water, which you drank gratefully. “Where….am I?”, you managed to croak out in a scratchy voice. The nurse gave you a sympathetic smile, “You’re in Jackson, sweetheart. You were out for a full day.”

You paused. You reached Jackson? You actually managed to reach Jackson? Your eyes immediately filled up with tears out of relief. And then you remembered Max. “M-my, my horse? Where is he? Is he okay-” “Yes, he’s alright! We got him checked, he’s healthy. Joel and Ellie saved you, honey. You looked very weak, they found you passed out on your horse. Thank god Joel decided to bring you here right away”, the nurse struck an idle conversation while she checked your vitals.

You froze. Joel saved you? The person whose arms you felt was him?

“W-where is he?”, you whispered. “Ah, must be home right now. He was here to check on you this morning. He’s said he will come back before dinner. And what’s your name, honey?”

You swallowed, your throat swelling up with emotion and gratitude. “Okay, thank you. I’m (Name)”, you replied to the nurse in a soft voice. She flashed you a smile and went back to writing something on her writing pad. You promptly fell asleep after that conversation, your body too exhausted to stay up.

-

The next time you opened your eyes, they fell on a shadow of a man next to you. For a moment, your foolish heart jumped, thinking it’s Manny but once you focused clearly on the man, you realised he wasn’t. Tall even when sitting, broad shoulders covered by a flannel, hair cropped yet messy, his face was handsome- aquiline nose looked like it was made especially for him, lines of age and gray hair marked his hair and stubble. He suddenly snapped his head up to look at you and your eyes were captivated by the brown pools of his eyes, their colour as rich as coffee and the way they shined with warmth and sadness at the same time.

“Oh, you’re up. How you feelin’ now?”, his low baritone echoed in the empty room. Your face must’ve expressed confusion and he cleared his throat to introduce himself, “Sorry, ‘m Joel. Found you by the perimeter fencing. And don’t worry, your horse is safe in the stable”, he reassured you in his smooth voice. Your eyes widened in realisation, “Joel?”, you breathed out, “T-thank you for saving my life. I’m sorry for coming into your town like that but I had no other option. I just- thank you, Joel.”

Joel’s face flashed with surprise. For someone who was probably traumatised from the journey, you were a very courteous person. Joel was kind of impressed and suspicious of your attitude. He’s had enough experience to know the cheap tactics of enemies, acting kind at first and striking later was a classic move. But he didn’t get that vibe from you. Here you were, exhausted and grateful with tears in your eyes, miles away from home and yet you looked like you wanted to be here.

Joel nodded his head, a look passing over his eyes, “Yeah. You rest now. The doctor said you’ll be discharged by today evening. You can ask the nurse if you wanna get somethin’ to eat, she’ll tell you the directions. And uh, you’ll have to debrief with Maria, the council head. Nothin’ serious, just normal stuff like where’d you come from n’ all that. Okay?”

Your face twisted in stress, the thought of going out in a community and facing people while knowing that you’re an Ex-Firefly was enough to send you into a panic attack. You weren’t sure how to proceed with this information and how would you talk to Joel about it. They’d shoot you then and there, you’re sure of that. Joel seemed to have sensed this, “Hey, kid, relax. Nobody’s gonna hurt ya. I’ll come with you, if you want. I’ll send Ellie to keep you company till then, okay?”, Joel tried to soothe you. You swallowed painfully, your throat still scratchy, and offered him a short nod.

-

Joel left your room and Ellie took over his place. You liked her right away, she was a really lovely and funny girl and so helpful, you thought you’d already made a friend in her. She helped you get discharged and kept you distracted with her idle chatter. “You wanna get something to eat? We can go to the canteen to have something, it’s dinner time anyway. Or you can come over to our-Joel’s house and eat there? He’s asked me to keep an eye on you, so”, she asked casually while helping you walk out of the room.

“Um-I don’t really want to…eat in front of everyone”, you replied hesitantly with a hoarse voice. You haven’t talked much since you got here. Ellie looked at you with sympathy, she understood that you felt uncomfortable to be around so many people after being alone for days. “Yeah, of course. I’ll drop you off at his house and get a plate for you, that okay?”. You nodded your head tersely.

The two of you made your way out of the clinic and a shadow appeared next to you. “How’re you feeling, kid?” Joel.

You looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. “I’m okay.”

“You goin’ somewhere?”, he asked Ellie and she explained that you weren't comfortable with eating in the canteen and wanted to be somewhere away from judging eyes. He seemed to contemplate for a moment before offering, “If ya want, you can come to my house. You'd give company to Ellie as well”, he mumbled that last part and looked at Ellie with hope in his eyes. Ellie side eyed him and shifted her gaze away, focusing on the street in front of her. Your eyebrows quirked in interest and you paused, is Ellie the same girl..?

You looked at him solemnly. “Is that okay with you? I can totally just eat in the canteen, I don’t mind”, you rushed to add, not wanting to impose in anyway. Ellie looked you and shot you a shocked smile, not expecting the formality, they didn’t see that often. Joel gave you a small nod. “Yeah, that’s okay. C’mon.”

Ellie left you with Joel and walked away to get you a plate of food. Joel watched her go in worry for a moment, and you two began walking towards his house. They had finally given you some layers to put on, the autumn breeze was crisp, making your face cold in a pleasant way. Joel didn’t talk much, only speaking when spoken to or when he had to lay out any information, and you were glad for it. Your mind was too noisy to make any conversation right now and your eyes were too busy taking in Jackson. This was an actual town. You still couldn’t believe it. The people, the laughter of children, smoke coming out of chimneys, wires overhead, a constant mumble of chatter around you- your ears were ringing. You haven’t heard or seen such a normal and mundane scene in years.

The wonder and overwhelm must’ve been clearly visible on your face because it got a chuckle out of Joel. You turned your head to look at him. “Swear Ellie had that exact same look on her face when we walked through the gates.” You froze at his words. If Ellie was with him when he came here, then- oh god. She was the girl who Jerry was operating on. You felt bile rise up your throat. She was so young. The gravity of the situation hit you harder and you felt your insides curl with anger at the Fireflies, at the WLF, at Abby and at...Manny.

You forced yourself to let out a chuckle, your cheeks warming up from embarrassment. “Haven’t seen so much…life around me before. I swear I might even hear the electricity buzzing through the wires”, you joked lightly. Joel gave you a half smile, “Yeah, I get that. We jus' got here as well, few weeks ago.” You swallowed in guilt at that but also grateful that him and Ellie could escape Salt Lake and settle down here. “Yeah? That’s-that’s great. I’m glad you found a place to settle down”, you replied in a quiet voice and Joel stared at you in question, sensing a slight change in your mood. He decided to let it go and chalked it up to you still recovering.

You two finally reached his house and you took a moment to just stand on the driveway to stare at it. This was a whole, functioning house. An actual house that wasn’t just a hideout or a shelter or some dilapidated building. A house that looked like someone lived in it and that sent a pang through your heart, wishing you had Manny next to you. This should’ve been you and Manny entering your own house, him cracking jokes and flirting with you while your giggles echoed through the garden. You don’t even know where he is right now or if he was even alive. That thought made your eyes well up with tears and your chest hurt.

Joel turned around to see that you had stood still on the driveway, seemingly in a trance. Eyes shining with tears, you couldn’t avert your gaze from the house. Joel furrowed his eyebrows. You were so out of it since you got here, not even speaking a word to anyone or complaining about anything, Joel thought that you must’ve experienced something so numbing that you had lost all your energy and spark—he could relate to that. The way you kept making them comfortable as if you weren’t the one who was new to their town and as if you didn’t need care, almost made him laugh, in a good way. You were a good kid, he thought, feeling his fatherly instincts take over. He made his way over to you to shake you out of your trance.

“(Name)?”, he lightly shook you by the shoulders and you jumped. He raised his hands up and stepped back from you. “It’s okay, we’re here. This is my house. You wanna come in?”. You blinked your eyes rapidly to get rid of the tears and curtly nodded your head, making your way towards his living room.

You got hit by a comforting warmth and a smell of coffee as soon as you stepped foot into his house. The dark interior making it look cosy, like a library. There were several paintings hung around the house and it was decorated in little knick knacks, the dining table and coffee table having two forgotten cups each and a blanket thrown over the couch. It was home. And you didn’t know him, but it somehow screamed Joel.

You took a deep breath in, inhaling the comforting scent of coffee and wood and closed your eyes in contentment. After living an unstable and rough life since you were 14, you finally had a place where you could be you. The apocalypse was still out there, but here? Here, you could pretend that everything was okay and here, you could wait for your love to come back home. Joel noticed your reaction and his eyes shined with sympathy, tossing a small smile towards your way.

"Uh-after you have your dinner, we'll have to drop you off at the courthouse right away. That okay?", Joel asked you, breaking you out of your trance. You nodded and he spoke up again. "I didn't ask before but, where'd you come from?"

You stiffened up. You weren't going to drop a bomb on him right away so you decided to lie, you knew you would regret this later because Joel was too sharp to miss it. "I-I’m from the Miami QZ. Before coming to Jackson, I was at the Denver QZ", you confessed shakily.

Joel furrowed his eyebrows in shock. "You came all the way from Miami and Denver alone? That's halfway across the country", he questioned you gruffly. You swallowed thickly, this was a mistake. Joel was way too wise and experienced to catch your lie, you knew that. "Uh-yeah. I mean- I was alone from Denver. Left behind the group I was travelling with…we had left Miami a few months ago for Denver."

Joel narrowed his eyes at you, "A group? Why would you leave your group behind?"

You cleared your throat before answering, "Well, I wanted something else. Didn't agree with their ways, so I decided to move on", you shrugged, your hands clenched in tight fists. Joel stared you down with that steely gaze of his and you almost faltered before he nodded his head. “Alright, well, Settle down.”

-

After Ellie came back, you had your food and you ate it in silence, minus the chatter and questions from Ellie. You noticed some tension between her and Joel but kept quiet because you had just met them. She asked you your name, where you were from, how did you find Jackson, and so on and you answered her questions sincerely, hiding some of the facts for now. She was such a curious kid, it made you sad to even think that if it wasn’t for Joel, she wouldn’t have been here. Her infectious energy even made someone as stoic as Joel let out some chuckles. You felt a clear bond between the two- Joel always looked at her with so much care and love that it made you jealous. You haven’t had a parental figure to look over you since you were 14. You missed them. You blinked away the tears and focused on your food before they walked you to the town courthouse.

There were 6-7 people sitting on the panel. And you assumed that the two people sitting in the middle were the heads of the council. “(Name)?”, the dark-skinned woman sitting in the middle addressed you. You squeezed your fingers together, shifted nervously in the chair. Clearing your throat, you finally spoke up, “Yes.”

“I’m Maria, Head Counselor of Jackson. This is Tommy and the rest of the council. We just want to ask you a few questions about you and how you came across Jackson, is that okay?” Your eyebrows raised in recognition, so this was Maria. You nodded and Maria begun, “Can you state your full name and age?”, you gave her your full name and age and observed as she wrote it down.

“Okay, do you mind telling us where are you from?”

“Yes, I-I was originally from the Miami QZ. But, had to move to Denver a few months ago due to overpopulation in the zone”, you confessed as if you had practiced this lie. Maria nodded her head but her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Wait, you traveled across the country alone?”

“No, I had a group with me from Miami to Denver. But I left them behind in Denver because I didn’t agree with their ways and I had learned about Jackson. Was tired of being on the run so…thought I might as well move on.”

The man next to her, Tommy, leaned forward and stared at you in question. You couldn’t help but notice that he looked a lot like Joel and Manny. “You sure you came here just to settle? No people following you or any other motives?”, his gruff voice echoed in the room.

You shook your head vehemently, “No! I came here alone and in peace. I just want a place to stay, lost my parents when I was 14 so I haven’t had a proper home or stable life since then. I totally understand if you don’t trust me but, I promise, I came here in peace”, you confessed truthfully. While yes, you had omitted certain parts of your life but you did want to escape to Jackson to live a peaceful life, hopefully with Manny, but you weren’t sure when would that wish come true. You didn’t tell them about the situation with Abby yet because you needed to talk to Joel, directly first. Involving the council meant you had to go through ‘legal’ processes and you didn’t need all that, nor did you have the energy for it.

Tommy looked at you for a moment before nodding his head in agreement and Maria let out a sigh. “Okay, we’ll have to check your pack before we hand it back to you. I’ll help you pick out a house after we’re done renovating. Till then, you can stay with Joel, if you want”, Maria offered. You simply nodded your head and they excused you. You couldn’t believe it- you were a member of this community now, you were torn between crying in happiness and sorrow. Ellie dropped you off at the house before promptly leaving to hang out with her friends.

There was a pit in your stomach because of the lies that you told in the court but you had decided that you would speak to Joel right away. You stepped into the living room and called out for him, “Joel?”, you walked over to the hallway and called out once more, “Joel? Are you home?”, you noticed a door that was ajar and peeped through it to see Joel sitting a desk, head lowered and hands working on something.

You knocked at the door twice, but didn’t get any response. You furrowed your brows and decided to approach him instead, “Joel?”, he flinched and reached for a tool before he noticed you and put the tool down before letting out a sigh. “Sorry! I’m so sorry, I-i called you out twice and knocked on the door but you didn’t hear me I-” “s’okay, kid. Sat with the bad ear facing the door, not your fault.”

You grimaced. “Bad ear?”

“Yeah, apparently using a gun too many times can do that to your ears”, Joel scoffed and reached for the sanding paper to sand the sculpture in his hands. Your eyes widened in realisation, he was deaf in an ear- no wonder why he didn’t hear you.

Your attention spanned to his work bench. It was littered with wood, tools for woodwork, and a few sketches splayed across the table. “You’re a sculptor?”, you asked in interest, leaning closer to watch his skilled hands work.

Joel let out a breathy chuckle. “Somethin’ like that. Was a contractor back in the day. Noticed some wood lyin' around here and thought I might as well make somethin' out of it. Works as a distraction too."

Your mouth took an 'o' shape as you watched him sand down the sculpture. You smiled to yourself, finding it endearing that someone as gruff as Joel made sculptures in his free time to keep himself busy.

"Why'd you ask for me?", his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You straightened up and cleared your throat. "Joel, there's something you should know. I needed to tell it to you first", you confessed in a quiet voice, your face twisted in pain like you were dreading this conversation. You noticed how Joel's body visibly stiffened and he turned his attention back to you, his sharp gaze judging you. "What is it?"

You swallowed thickly and shut your eyes. "You can kick me out if you want to but I—I used to be a Firefly. I was stationed at St. Mary's", your voice slipping into a whisper by the end of the sentence, not needing to elaborate further as Joel's eyes widened and his heart pounded against his chest. He knew what you were referencing. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into a fist.

"What the fuck are you doin' here? You came here to take her away? To leak whatever information they want? Get out of my house before I-" "No! No, please. Joel, listen to me. I promise, I didn't come here to harm you or Ellie, I swear. Just- hear me out, please", you begged him, your hands stretched out in a placating gesture. Joel clenched his jaw and observed you closely. You weren't carrying any weapons or anything, might as well give you a chance to explain yourself. He nodded at you to continue, and you let out a sigh of relief, your eyes burning with tears.

"Joel, I admit I was a Firefly. But, I don't do that anymore. Not after I found out what they were gonna do to Ellie. It's why I left them and came here, alone. I swear, they abandoned me the moment I disagreed with their plan I-"

"What plan?", Joel asked sharply.

You took a deep breath in and told him the truth, "Joel, they want to kill you. They will come for you. That doctor you killed? He was the father of one of my group members. She's- Joel, she's gone insane. Blinded by rage and vengeance. She's manipulated the whole group into seeking you out and killing you. I couldn't sit and watch so I took out information from the nurses you spared and I left overnight", your voice wavering because of the lump in your throat.

Joel stared at you in disbelief, "Why would they not follow you? Why are you doing this for us? We ain't even know you", he questioned you, unable to understand your motive.

Your face scrunched up in pain, "Because, The Fireflies killed my parents!", you cried out and Joel froze. "Because they keep hurting innocent people and I've been trying to bring them down since I was 14, Joel. They manipulated me into joining them after they killed my parents in front of me. I-I've saved countless of their victims before but if i had stayed back anymore, I would've been killed or abandoned for disagreeing with them or disobeying protocol. When I heard what they did to Ellie...i felt sick and disgusted with myself", you confessed before running a hand across your face to calm yourself down, "And no, they wouldn't follow me because...because someone close to me will cover up for me. But, that doesn't mean they won't find you. The nurses already told them some information on you. Their only aim is to hurt you, to kill you", you let out in a breath.

Joel was standing so still, that you thought he'd stopped breathing. He knew his luck would run out someday, his demons coming back to hurt him but hearing it from you, a stranger, made it very real. He thought of that day in the hospital and he thought about your story. You were nothing less than a guardian angel for him, he was in awe of your perseverance and the humanity that you possessed, to try and bring an evil organisation to an end since you were Ellie's age. Then, he thought of all the nasty work he's done in the past and thought- he doesn't deserve your kindness. That maybe, he's had it coming for a long time and he should just accept it.

He swallowed thickly and responded in a hoarse voice, "Don't tell any of this to Ellie. I'll figure somethin' out. Thank you for telling me the truth, you didn't have to."

You stared at him dumbfounded, "What? Joel-" "She'll lose her damn mind and stop talking to me altogether, I know. But still, don't tell this to anybody, y'hear me? This'll stay between you and me. I won't tell about your past to anyone else either", Joel pleaded in a soft voice.

You stared at him in confusion, your eyes shining with unshed tears and you reluctantly agreed to his conditions. What Joel didn't know, was that you were going to save him from Abby, no matter how much he refused to be saved.

-

Jackson, 2025

It's been 2 years since you were officially a Jackson resident. There were days where you still couldn't believe that this was your life now. You slept on an actual bed, had proper meals, had good clothes to wear, you woke up every morning and met with people, with families, around you, attended community dinners and events- it was surreal. You had a family of your own now-Joel, Ellie, Tommy, Maria, Dina, Jesse and the newest addition to the family- little Benji Miller.

You spent your days either looking after Benji, helping around town or going on patrols with the others. Joel even taught you some wood carving and it helped to bring you and him closer. Soon enough, you looked up to him as a father figure, the way he would fuss over Ellie making you crave that parental affection. He was a natural at that, being a father, his caring and doting side slipping through that cold and gruff exterior naturally. He'd bring you coffee, you'd accompany him on patrols where you jeered with each other, he'd teach you the guitar, you'd go on walks with him- like a normal father and child would.

After that confession, you were sure that you Joel would stop talking to you. But instead, he asked you to move into his house and Ellie was over the moon. She'd spend most of her time with you or her other friends, chatting away or helping with tasks around the town. Very soon, you had found out that her and Joel weren't on good terms ever since Salt Lake and it made you feel guilty that you were somehow connected to that. Joel never brought up that fateful day, trying to bury it ten feet under and asking you to do the same.

As days passed, you found out that Tommy was actually Joel's younger brother and him and Maria were married with a baby on the way. It made you tear up, happy that Joel and Ellie had a family of their own and made your chest hurt in heart break. Joel also shared that he had a daughter that he lost on the day of the outbreak. It made your heart break for him even more and made you understand why he was so protective of Ellie.

It's been two years since you left Manny and you still broke down in his memory. You would never get over it, you were sure of that, for he was such a huge part of your life that it was impossible to forget him and he always left an impact on people with his charm. You often found yourself zoning out and refusing to leave your room, your body numb with the pain in your heart. Joel managed to coax you out most days, Ellie dragging you out the others, but you'd be functioning like a robot. They didn't know why you acted the way you did, assuming it was just because you missed home, but still, they tried to keep you alive. Today was another day like that—you were standing on the porch, holding a hot mug of coffee in hand, staring blankly at the trees lining Joel's fence.

"Good mornin', Kiddo", Joel's quiet yet gruff voice mumbled next to you. You jumped and snapped out of your trance turning to face Joel. "Morning, old man", you threw a smirk at his way, him rolling his eyes in return.

"Ellie..?", he trailed off and looked at the garage longingly. Oh yeah, Ellie recently moved all of her stuff in the garage and has been avoiding Joel like the plague now. You saw the way his heart broke at that, everyday he looked at the garage door with sadness and disappointment lining his features and it broke your heart to see him like that. You had asked him if he wanted you to talk to Ellie but he'd politely shut you down.

"No, Joel. She's gone with Jesse and the others already", you let out an apologetic sigh. He blinked rapidly to get rid of the tears and bit the inside of his cheek. Your heart twisted in empathy for him. "I see...well, how're you? Feelin' alright?"

You pressed your lips into a thin line and turned your attention back to the trees, "I guess." Joel stared at you for a moment before letting out a sigh and sipping his coffee. "Have you ever been in love, Joel?", you asked him quietly.

He froze before inhaling deeply. "Well, there was Sarah's mom. Then, there was Sarah. She was my everything, my whole world revolved around her", he chuckled softly. "I...there was someone but...lost her when we were on our way to Jackson", he admitted quietly. You looked at him with sadness coating your tone, "How did you get over the pain? How did you forget them and move on?"

Joel's eyebrows furrowed. "You don't forget them. They're always in your heart, even if you can't see them. It's their memory that keeps you going", he replied carefully.

"It hurts to remember, Joel", you whimpered. Joel straightened up, alarmed at your sudden display of emotions, and laid a strong hand on your shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong? You wanna talk about it?"

You looked up at him with your tears in your eyes and sniffled. "I- i loved- love someone. But he betrayed me and I left him behind to come to Jackson. We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives here. I don't even know if he's alive now", you broke down in a sob towards the end of that sentence.

Joel's eyes flashed with empathy and he brought you close in a hug, caging you in his safe arms, your head pressed to his chest and whispered a simple reassurance, "Don’t jump to conclusions, Kid. It's okay, let it out.” You hugged him tighter and let out all the bottled up emotions that were choking you for the last 2 years.

Jackson, 2029

Joel was your surrogate father, at this point. Comforting you every time you burst into tears after missing Manny or patching you up after a bad patrol. At first you thought he was just filling up the space that Ellie left in his heart by taking care of you. But one night, he confessed to you that if Sarah was around, she’d be exactly like you and that made you cry like a baby, your arms thrown around Joel and him comforting you like your father would. You had started to jokingly call him ‘Pops’, enjoying the annoyed grunt he would give in return.

You had gotten closer to Tommy and Maria as well, Benji taking a special liking to you since you basically babysat him ever since he was a year old. You were basically a Miller now, Ellie was too, just a little distant and you tried to reassure Joel about it everytime. He thought you didn’t see his sad little face around her, but you did and you subtly tried to distract him by poking fun at him.

It had been tense at the Miller house since last night. Joel and Ellie got into a little disagreement at the New Years Party to which, you had a little disagreement with Ellie because you didn’t like her reaction. Joel was just trying to help her, you’d never forget that look of embarrassment and hurt on his face after she yelled at him, which lead to you telling her to get it to together (do not put a teenager and a 30 year old in a room together). After that altercation, you left the party to follow Joel to the house and gave him company, him strumming the guitar while you read your book and chatted to him idly.

Come morning, you knew something was wrong the moment you woke up. You were supposed to patrol with Jesse but Ellie would be joining you because Joel let her sleep in and went on patrol with Dina instead. It would be awkward with Ellie joining you but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was going to happen today.

-

And something did happen today.

Actually, what didn’t happen today would be a better question. Jackson was hit with the worst blizzard it had ever experienced in the last 5 years. And you, Jesse and Ellie were stuck in the middle of it, your radio signals complete busted. Jesse managed to find a rundown 7/11 and you three took shelter in it. You holed your horses into a nearby stable and hid away in the 7/11 for god knows how long. It was then that your radios were suddenly firing away, Amy shouting into it.

“Joel—Dina—-seen them?”

You and Ellie exchanged a look and rushed to stand close to the radio. Jesse picked up the radio and yelled in it for someone to reply before Ellie snatched it from his hands. Ellie asked what happened and you caught Amy’s broken words- Joel and Dina were both missing. You and Ellie were panicking, rushing out of the store to grab your horses. Jesse tried to ask about the directions but Ellie simply told him to go Southwest while you and her would be going Northwest.

Ellie and you rode your horses like your life depended on it. The blizzard was getting worse, harsh winds whipping against your face, ice crystals freezing on your eyelashes and making your vision blurry. Your poor horses- Shimmer and Max- doing their best to run in the knee deep snow. Your breathing was laboured from the amount of effort you had to put in riding your horse, the cold air entering your lungs and making it harder to breathe.

Just as you were feeling like you were running in circles, you came across a lodge and two horses tied to the fence. Joel and Dina’s horses. You looked at Ellie and booked it for the lodge, getting off your horses as quickly as possible and entered into the lodge. The basement was full of wrapped and broken furniture, you and Ellie scanned the area with your guns raised. Just as you were about to take the stairs, you heard noises. Several of them. Some in pain and the two of you rushed up the stairs, you watching Ellie’s six.

Ellie broke open the door from where the noises came from and you saw your nightmare playing out in front of you. Joel was lying down on his stomach, his face bloody, a pool of blood surrounding his knee and he was barely conscious. There was a blonde girl repeatedly punching him when someone tackled Ellie to the ground and that’s when you noticed that it was Abby who stood over Joel.

Your eyes widened and you screamed, “Abby!” The entire room stilled. Every single person in the room turned to look at you and in your panic, you didn’t notice the one person you were dying to see for the past 5 years- “(Name)?”, Manny whispered in disbelief.

But you couldn’t hear him, your ears ringing with anger at the psychotic look on Abby’s face and Joel’s helpless face. Your entire body shook in tremors, you grabbed your gun and fired a shot directly into Abby’s kneecaps. Abby howled in pain, falling next to Joel and Owen rushed to stop you but Manny pushed him away, “Don’t fucking touch them”, pointing a finger at him and coming over to stand in front of you. “Hey, angel? You’re okay? Oh my god, I-”, Manny’s voice cracked and he tried to hold you but you pushed past him to get to Ellie.

“Get your fucking hands off her, Nora”, you threatened Nora with your gun to her head. She looked at Manny and he seemed to have nodded his head and released Ellie, who rushed into your arms. You held her by her shoulders and approached Joel, who was now shakily reaching for you and Ellie.

“Joel…oh my god. Joel. Get up, I’m here now. It’s okay, you got us, Pops”, you offered him a weak smile and he simply whimpered in response. Your lips quivered and Ellie let out a cry before holding Joel’s hand in hers, trying to comfort him. Your eyes then fell on Abby, writhing next to Joel in pain and you clenched your jaw shut before crouching in front of her. You stared at her in disgust. “A coward and a fraud, just like your father, aren’t you?”, you snarled and she stared you down with her bloodshot eyes.

You waved her off and stood up, facing the rest of them and that’s when you finally noticed him- standing next to Owen, his eyes shining with tears and his cheeks splotched with red, his curls were longer now, yet he still looked handsome as ever. He still looked like your Manny and then you remembered the way he had tackled Ellie.

You made your way over to him and harshly fisted the collar of his jacket, your eyes bloodshot with tears and hands shaking in anger. “You…asshole. How dare you touch my sister like that? How could you betray me like this? Why?”, you cried out and released his collar forcefully.

“(Name), please-” “I cried for you. Every single day for the last five years. And he”, you pointed at Joel, “he was the one who reassured me that you’d come back. He was the one who took me in like his own. He was the one who gave my a family. And you…you cowards were cornering an old man to kill him off in a secluded lodge? For whom? For Abby’s fraud of a father?”, you growled, your voice hoarse from the tears you were shedding. “Some fucking friendship you have that you can’t even hold your friend accountable”, you turned around to address them all. Manny averted his gaze in shame, Mel was crying her eyes out, Owen and Nora had the decency to lower their gaze.

“You’ve always been the odd one in the group-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up before I put another bullet in you”, you roared at Abby, shutting her up effectively. And then your eyes fell on another body lying on the ground- Dina. “What the hell did you do to her?!”, you cried out before making your way to Dina and placed her head in your lap. “She’s- she’s just unconscious, I promise. It’s just a sedative”, Mel explained to you in between sobs. You trusted Mel so you nodded your head and removed your jacket before folding it and placing it under Dina’s head, running a hand over her beanie covered head.

You made your way back to Joel, sitting next to his head, rubbing a soothing hand over his shoulder. You couldn’t look at his mangled face without bursting in tears so you chose to look at Abby and channelled your anger and pain towards her. “I’m giving you a choice. You’re either gonna leave with the rest of them peacefully or you’re gonna make it difficult and get a bullet in your heads, each”, you threatened her and looked straight into her eyes before diverting your gaze to look at Manny, who looked like he was fighting with himself.

Abby looked at you in agitation and spoke up, “I’m not leaving before I end this-”, you cut her off and fired another shot, this time on the same arm that was punching Joel. She screamed in pain once again. Owen rushed over to support her and you noticed Manny clenching his hands into fists to stop himself from joining Owen, knowing it’d make you more upset.

You smirked at that, “I warned you, didn’t I? Yet, you chose to do this. And yet, I was waiting for you to come to me, had a whole house picked out for us and everything. I was stupid and I still am, stupid”, you let out a maniacal chuckle which made Manny and Ellie look at you in worry.

“(Name), hey, that’s enough. We- we’ll leave. Please. Stop this”, Owen placated. You turned to look at him, a crazed look in your eyes. “You better leave, because god forbid she is in front of me any longer…I don’t think any of you will be walking out of this room, alive.” Owen swallowed thickly and ordered the others to start packing their stuff.

He picked up Abby in his arms and she struggled against him, hurling loose threats towards you, Joel and Ellie. “I’ll fucking find you, and end the three of you. All at once. Slowly, just like I did to him-”

“I’d like to see you try, Abby. I’ll be waiting for you”, you replied nonchalantly, her threats mere words for you and shifted your focus towards Joel and Ellie. Owen shook his head and carried Abby out of the room, Mel and Nora quickly following him.

Manny was frozen to his spot. “Manny?”, Nora asked him, breaking him out of his trance. His jaw was clenched so tightly that his cheeks were shaking, wet from tears that he didn’t know he shed. He swallowed thickly, all of your memories together rushing through his mind and your agonised face haunting him. He had barely survived these 5 years, believing you to be dead after the first. He decided to push forward like a robot, his face and body devoid of any emotions. Your scarf had lost your scent after the first month apart and he had a breakdown because of that. The more he thought of it, the more he knew that he wanted to stay back with you. He’d do what he had promised himself 5 years ago- beg on his knees for your forgiveness.

Part 3

-

AN: sooo originally it was supposed to end here, but I’ve got too many ideas for their patch up. So strap in! 👀

tag list: @taylorsroxy @parkersjoy @aomi-recs @serendipity-29 @lucycarlisleswife @laurenjbb @onmyknees4kai @groovycass @spideybrie @yvonne-dump @monselxo @this-girl-is-tired

(sorry if some of y’all didn’t get tagged!)

[freezerbrldes]

short n’ sweet - part 1

“wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?”

PART 1, PART 2,

PAIRING. spencer reid x popstar!reader

SUMMARY. spencer gets a lot more than he bargained for when he attends a concert with garcia.

WARNINGS. afab!reader, sub!spencer, softdom!reader, oral (m receiving), use of handcuffs, begging, red lipstick in places it should never be, unprotected pnv sex, creampie, just pure filth, also not proof read

AUTHOR’S NOTE. i got this idea after rewatching my short n sweet concert videos. i could not get the thought of spencer receiving the juno handcuffs out of my head so I wrote it all down. i hate the beginning and ending of this a lot but the middle is so good hehe.

credit to @cafekitsune for dividers

wc: 4,029

also on ao3

Garcia gripped Spencer’s hand tightly, pushing through the crowd until they reached the barricade next to the stage.

“Holy shit Spence! We made it!” Garcia cheered.

“Nice, that’s great… I think i’m going to pass out.” Spencer pants, gripping onto the railing for dear life.

Spencer, who isn’t particularly fond of concerts or music in general, reluctantly agreed to attend this show solely to appease Garcia’s relentless begging. Concerts were not Spencer’s forte, that was until he saw you up on the stage prancing around in lingerie…

Despite his initial discomfort, Spencer finds himself inexplicably drawn to your energetic performance. Your confidence, charisma, and raw talent captivate him more with each passing song.

As you move about the fake penthouse on stage with reckless abandon, your provocative attire leaving very little to the imagination, Spencer's analytical mind struggles to reconcile his attraction with his deeply ingrained social awkwardness.

He tries to focus on the music, his thoughts consumed by the intricate details of your choreography and the way your skin seems to shimmer under the bright lights.

Spencer's cheeks flush slightly as he realizes the extent of his distraction, his heart racing in a way that's both unfamiliar and exhilarating. He shifts uncomfortably, tugging at his sweater vest as he attempts to regain some semblance of composure.

After performing a very heartfelt ballad, you approached the edge of the stage, scanning the crowd with your eyes.

“Hey, girls?” you call out to two of your dancers who are standing by your side. “I believe I might have found my future husband in the crowd tonight.”

The crowd erupted in cheers as they realized the clever bit.

“Do y’all see him? He’s standing right over there, the tall one wearing the sweat vest.” You point to Spencer while giggle like schoolgirls with your dancers.

“Hey there, baby. What’s your name?” A grin spread across your face as you noticed his cheeks flushing a vibrant red.

Caught completely off guard, Spencer stammers, his hazel eyes wide as saucers. He feels like he's been struck by lightning, the sudden intimacy of you presence leaving him momentarily speechless.

"Dr. Reid," he manages to choke out, his voice cracking slightly. He can feel his face burning, and his heart hammers against his ribcage like a jackrabbit.

"I-I mean, Spencer," he corrects himself, the remnants of his professional demeanor trying to resurface amidst the chaos of his escalating nervousness.

Spencer swallows hard, trying to gather his scattered thoughts as he meets your intense gaze. The mischievous glint in your eyes sends a shiver down his spine, even as his analytical mind struggles to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“Oooooo, a doctor!” You exclaim, dramatically fanning yourself. “Well, Dr. Reid, you’re under arrest for being too hot.”

Spencer jumped as police sirens blared through the arena, accompanied by flashing red and blue lights.

“I might need you to examine me, doctor. I feel extremely hot, and- OH!” You teased as your long skirt fell to the floor, revealing a much shorter version of it.

Spencer’s jaw was practically on the floor.

You grinned as you inched closer towards the edge of the stage, crouching down to Spencer’s level.

“I want you to have these,” you smiled as you handed Spencer a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs.

Spencer can't help but stare at the exposed skin of your legs, his breath catching in his throat when he notices the bedazzled lipstick stain on your inner thigh.

"Ah, um, thank you..." He reaches out to take the offered cuffs, his fingers brushing against hers. The sensation sends sparks dancing along his nerve endings, and he feels himself grow flustered once more.

As you stood up, you blow Spencer a kiss. The all too familiar intro to the song Penelope had been forcing him to listen to for the past few weeks, began to play.

“This song is for you, Spencie,” you winked as you started singing, maintaining eye contact throughout the entire first verse.

Spencer's eyes widen further, his mouth agape as he watches you prance down the catwalk. The provocative lyrics and suggestive dance moves leave him utterly stunned, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

His analytical mind tries to process the explicit nature of the performance, but it's drowned out by the pounding of his heart and the heat coursing through his veins. He finds himself captivated by every move you makes, his gaze riveted to your lithe form.

When you strikes a pose that leaves little to the imagination, Spencer's breath hitches, and he feels a strange tingling sensation in his loins. It's foreign yet exhilarating, and he can't tear his eyes away, even as his rational brain screams at him to look away.

As the song reaches its climax, Spencer finds himself caught up in the raw energy emanating from the stage. The crowd's cheers and applause mingle with the pulsating beat, creating an electric atmosphere that seems to vibrate through every cell in his body.

Lost in the moment, Spencer's inhibitions begin to melt away, replaced by a primal urge to respond to the sensual stimuli before him. When your gaze locks onto his, he feels a jolt of connection, as if an invisible thread tethers them together.

With a sense of reckless abandon he rarely experiences, Spencer raises the fuzzy pink handcuffs as he grins, his movements deliberate and charged with newfound confidence. As the final notes fade, he couldn’t help but notice the smile on your face as the lights dimmed and the show ended.

“Wow,” is the only word Garcia could mutter as she stares at the empty stage. “I can’t believe she gave you the handcuffs, do you know how lucky you are?”

“You know, the probability of me receiving these is incredibly low, considering there are approximately 14,000 people here and-“ Before Spencer could continue his rambling, he and Garcia approached a security guard.

“Are you Spencer?” the intimidating-looking security guard asked.

“Uh, yeah, that would be me,” Spencer stuttered, feeling a pang of worry that he might have overstepped some boundaries during his interactions with you on stage.

“I’ve been informed by y/n’s management that she is requesting to meet you backstage,” the security guard said.

"Backstage? Me?" Spencer looks at Garcia incredulously, wondering if this could be some kind of joke. But the stern expression on the guard's face suggests otherwise.

Spencer stares at Garcia, completely speechless. As the security guards wait for his response, Garcia nudges his side and gently pulls him back to reality.

“I, uh, y-yeah,” Spencer stammers, “I’d love to go backstage,”

“Alright, follow me,”

Spencer waves to Garcia as the guard guides him through the concealed corridors of the arena, observing the crew dismantling the stage to transport it to the next venue.

After what appears to be an eternity, Spencer is led to the door of your dressing room. You’re lounging on the couch in a soft, fluffy robe, engrossed in scrolling through your phone when you hear the door open.

“Hi!” You greet Spencer with a warm smile, standing up and embracing him. “Thanks so much for coming.”

Spencer's heart races as you pull him into a warm embrace, his senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of your perfume and the softness of your robe against his skin. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe, his mind reeling from the unexpected touch.

When you finally release him, Spencer takes a step back, trying to compose himself. His cheeks flush a deep crimson, and he fumbles with the hem of his sweater vest, clearly flustered.

"T-thank you...for inviting me," he stutters, his voice barely above a whisper. Despite his social awkwardness, there's a genuine sincerity in his tone, reflecting his gratitude for this rare opportunity to connect with someone like you.

Glancing around the cozy dressing room, Spencer notices the array of makeup, costumes, and personal items scattered about.

“I hope you don’t think I’m weird but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you all night,” you admit as you plopped onto the couch, your cheeks now flushed pink from embarrassment. “The handcuff thing is just a funny little bit I do, but tonight I chose you because I really do think you’re insanely hot.”

“N-no, it’s not weird at all, I’m flattered actually,” Spencer stammered, taking a seat next to you.

“Really? You’re not weirded out that I had my security find you in the crowd and bring you backstage so we could meet?“ You asked.

"No, genuinely, I mean it," Spencer says, his eyes locking with yours as he spoke. "I know we’ve just met, but I felt a connection with you tonight, something that went beyond mere admiration."

Spencer shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours.

“And that handcuff thing...well, it was a bold move, and it worked.”

A faint blush colored his cheeks as he met your gaze again, his hazel eyes shimmering with a mix of shyness and curiosity.

As the silence between you stretches, Spencer finds himself drawn to the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your robe gapes slightly, offering a tantalizing glimpse of your skin. He swallows hard, trying to ignore the strange tingles coursing through his body.

Before he could say another word, your lips crash against his.

Spencer's eyes widen in shock as your lips suddenly press against his, the unexpected kiss sending a jolt of electricity through his entire being. For a moment, he freezes, unsure of how to react.

But then, as if possessed by some newfound courage, Spencer's arms wrap tentatively around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. His lips part instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide past them and explore the warmth of his mouth.

Spencer's fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you more firmly against him. He can taste the sweetness of your red lipstick mixed with the hint of adrenaline, and it only fuels his growing desire.

As the kiss deepens, Spencer's thoughts become a jumbled mess – part confusion, part exhilaration, and an overwhelming sense of lust.

Spencer gasps softly as your lips leave a trail of red across his sensitive skin, the sensation both unfamiliar and intoxicating. His head tilts back, exposing more of his neck to your explorations.

When your fingers start to work on his buttons, Spencer's breath hitches. He's hasn’t been this intimate with anyone since Maave, and the idea of baring himself to you, a complete stranger who’s also a mega superstar, sends a thrill through his veins.

As you continue to undress him, Spencer's hands roam over your back, tracing the curves of your spine beneath the thin fabric of your silk robe. He marvels at the softness of your skin, the warmth emanating from your body.

His shirt finally falls open, revealing his lean torso. Spencer feels a slight surge of vulnerability until he feels your lips on his collarbone.

Spencer's eyes flutter closed as your lips dance across his chest. When you drop to your knees in front of the couch, his heart races, a mix of nervousness and anticipation coursing through him.

The sound of his belt buckle clicking open sends a shiver down Spencer's spine. He watches, transfixed, as you work on freeing him from his pants. The air grows thick with tension, and Spencer's breathing quickens.

When your fingers brush against the growing bulge in his underwear, Spencer lets out a shaky exhale. It’s been awhile since he has been touched so intimately, and the sensation is overwhelming yet exhilarating.

With trembling hands, Spencer reaches down to help you remove his pants, his eyes locked onto yours. A flush spreads across his cheeks as he reveals himself to you, feeling both exposed and strangely empowered by your reaction.

“So pretty,” You breathed out, your hands brushing against his hard cock.

Spencer's eyes widen at your words, a rush of heat flooding his cheeks. No one has ever spoken to him like that before, with such raw, unfiltered admiration. It takes his breath away.

A soft moan escapes him as your hands make contact with his straining erection, the touch sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. Spencer's hips twitch involuntarily, seeking more of your gentle caresses.

He looks down at you, his hazel eyes dark with desire, and whispers, "Please... I need..." His voice trails off, unable to articulate the intensity of his longing.

Spencer's slender fingers thread through your hair, holding you close as he waits with bated breath for your next move. His body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending attuned to your touch.

As you feel his fingers tangled in your hair, you get an idea. You let go of him as you sit back on your knees, Spencer letting out a whimper at the loss of contact.

“Do you still have the handcuffs?” You asked, grinning wickedly.

Spencer gulped as he nodded, pointing to his discarded pants on the floor next to you. You dig through the pocket to pull out the fuzzy pink handcuffs you gave to him only an hour prior.

“Hands behind your back, Spencie,” You smirked as you dangle the cuffs in front of him.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness despite the vulnerability of his position.

A startled yelp escapes Spencer's lips as the handcuffs encircles his wrists, securing them behind his back. The sudden restraint sends a thrill through him, mingling with the lingering ache of want.

He stares up at you, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, as you fasten the cuffs with a playful snap. The term of endearment 'Spencie' slips past your lips, and it feels like a brand, searing itself into his very being.

Spencer's body quivers under your gaze, his skin prickling with anticipation. The pink cuffs seem almost comical against his pale, slender arms, but the effect they have on him is anything but humorous.

Spencer's breath hitches as your lips brush against his, the fleeting kiss sending a spark of electricity through him. He leans into it instinctively, craving more of your touch, even as you move to kneel in front of him once again.

A low groan rumbles in his chest as your hand wraps around his shaft, stroking him with confident, deliberate motions. Spencer's head falls back, exposing the vulnerable column of his throat, as he surrenders himself to the sensations coursing through him.

“Oh God," he gasps, his hips bucking slightly into your grasp. “That feels... incredible." Each word is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath, his body tensing and relaxing in time with your touches.

The restraints digs into his skin, a subtle reminder of his submission to you.

Spencer's eyes widen in shock as your warm, wet mouth envelops him, the sensation unlike anything he's ever experienced. A choked moan tears from his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as you begin to suck him deeper.

The sight of your red lips wrapped around his cock, the vibrant color smeared across his flesh, is almost too much for Spencer to bear. He can't tear his gaze away from the erotic image, transfixed by the way your tongue swirls around his sensitive tip.

“Oh fuck, that's..." he trails off, unable to form coherent thoughts amidst the onslaught of pleasure. His mind reels, struggling to process the intensity of the feelings coursing through him.

Spencer's chest heaves with ragged breaths, his body trembling as he submits to your skilled ministrations.

As you take him deeper into your mouth, Spencer's control begins to slip. The feeling of your hot, wet tongue swirling around his length is overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing over him.

"Ah! Oh God, yes!" he cries out, his voice strained with need. His hips thrust forward instinctively, lost in the haze of lust as you bob your head along his shaft.

"I'm... I'm going to cum," he warns, his words punctuated by shallow pants. Spencer's grip on the cushions tightens, his muscles coiled taut as he teeters on the brink of climax.

Before he’s thrown over the edge, you pull away abruptly, looking up at him and giggling as he writhes around desperately.

Spencer’s cock twitches and leaks precum from the loss of stimulation. A pained whine escapes his lips, his hips reflexively bucking up in search of your warm mouth.

"No, please don't stop," he begs, his voice laced with desperation. Spencer's chest heaves with rapid breaths, his body wracked with the need for release.

His hazel eyes, usually bright, are dark with desire, pupils blown wide as he gazes at you with pleading intensity. The remnants of his earlier composure have crumbled, leaving only raw, unbridled lust in its wake.

“I need you," Spencer confesses, his admission torn from him like a bandaid.

As you stand in front of Spencer, his gaze is immediately drawn to your body as you slowly untie your robe, mirroring the opening of your show. The sensual movements and provocative poses are etched into his consciousness like a fever dream.

His breath catches in his throat as the fabric parts, exposing the tantalizing expanse of your skin inch by delicious inch. Spencer's eyes drink in every detail – the delicate freckles scattered across your shoulders, your nipples already hardened into peaks, the gentle swell of your hips leading down to your thighs.

“Please," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. “Let me touch you.”

Spencer's hands fight against the handcuffs, the urge to reach out and touch you, to claim you as his own is nearly overwhelming.

You toss the robe onto the floor next to Spencer’s clothes as you straddle his lap, leaving more lipstick stains across his face until your month reaches his ear.

“Beg for it,” you whispered, softly nibbling on his earlobe, causing him to whimper. “Beg me to let you touch me.”

A shiver runs down Spencer's spine as your warm breath caresses his ear, your whispered command igniting a fire within him. His mind reels, desperate to comply, to plead for the privilege of touching your gorgeous body.

"Oh God, please," he gasps, his voice trembling with need. “Let me touch you, please. I wa- I need to touch you."

Spencer's hips lift involuntarily, seeking friction against the soft flesh of your thigh. His fingers curl into fists, nails digging into his palms as he struggles against the restraints, yearning to wrap his arms around you and lose himself in your embrace.

"I'll do anything, please," he vows, his words dripping with sincerity and desire.

It doesn’t take much more begging for you to give into his pleads.

The moment your lips meet his, Spencer surrenders to the intense passion, kissing you back with equal fervor. His hands, still bound, can't reciprocate physically, but his entire being leans into you, craving closer contact.

As you grind against his rigid length, Spencer moans into the kiss, the sensation of your heated core rubbing against his aching cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. His hips buck instinctively, seeking more friction, more pressure.

Breaking the kiss, Spencer pants heavily, his hazel eyes glazed with lust.

“Fuck... I want you so badly," he admits, his voice ragged with desire. “Please, I need to be inside you."

Instead of speaking, you respond by unlocking the handcuffs. Thankfully since they are just a prop, they are easy to remove and don’t require a key.

Spencer is surprised and almost embarrassed by how easily they were removed, but he has no time to dwell on that as you begin lining him up with your entrance.

With the restraints gone, Spencer's hands immediately find purchase on your waist, gripping you tightly as he feels the head of his cock notch against your slick entrance. His breathing hitches, anticipation coiled tight in his belly.

When you position him, aligning his thick shaft with your waiting heat, Spencer lets out a low groan, his hips surging forward of their own accord. With a smooth, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, a guttural moan escaping him at the exquisite feeling of your walls clenching around his sensitive flesh.

"Ah, fuck yes..." Spencer gasps, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he savors the sensation of being fully embedded within you. “You feel so good.”

You can’t help the pornographic moan that escapes your throat as Spencer bottoms out. You are still as you both get use to the filling of him inside of you.

“Spencer,” You whimper, “you feel so fucking good inside of me.”

Spencer's eyes flutter shut as you start to move, your inner muscles massaging his cock in a delicious rhythm. The slow, deliberate pace allows him to savor every inch of your warmth enveloping him.

"Yes! oh God! just like that," he encourages, his voice strained with pleasure. “You're so tight, so perfect... Fuck!"

His hands slide down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh as he begins to match your movements, thrusting in sync with your rolling hips. Each stroke sends sparks of bliss shooting up his spine, intensifying the building pressure in his groin.

"More, please...” Spencer pleads, his thrusts growing more urgent as he chases his own release.

You grant his wishes as you nestle your head into his neck, sucking softly on the sensitive skin just below his ear.

Spencer groans loudly in response. The sudden increase in tempo, coupled with the sensations of your mouth on his neck, sends him hurtling towards the edge. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps as he pistons in and out of your throbbing heat, driven by nothing but primal urges.

"Oh, shit... right there, just like that!" he grunts, his hand moving from your ass to rub rough circles over your clit. "I'm going to... Oh fuck!”

With a final, powerful thrust, Spencer hits his peak, his cock pulsating as it spills hot cum deep inside you. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over him, his vision blurring as he rides out his orgasm.

It doesn’t take long for you to finish, your body tenses above Spencer as he sloppily thrusts into you, riding out the remainder of your orgasms.

As the last tremors of your orgasms subside, You both collapse onto the couch, panting heavily as you try and catch your breath, your sweat-dampened skin pressing intimately against one another.

"That was… incredible," he manages to say, his voice hoarse from exertion. "You're amazing."

You carefully remove his softening member from your spent body. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you as he nuzzles into your hair.

"I never want this night to end," he confesses, his tone sincere and vulnerable. "But I know we should probably get cleaned up and back to reality soon.”

“Yeah, I need to be on the bus heading to New York in a few hours,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of disappointment at the thought of possibly never seeing Spencer again.

A pang of disappointment and longing shoots through Spencer at the mention of your impending departure. He knows their whirlwind encounter can't possibly lead to anything long-term, given the vast differences in their lives, but that doesn't diminish the strong connection he feels.

"I understand," he says quietly, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. "Well, um, if you’re ever back in town, I’d love to maybe get coffee together.”

Spencer's eyes search yours, hoping to find some glimmer of agreement, even as he anticipates the likely rejection. It's a fragile thread, but it's all he has to cling to as he faces the prospect of saying goodbye.

“I’d love too,” you smiled, brushing some of the hair that had gotten stuck to his sweaty forehead.

Spencer returned your smile as he got dressed and headed for the door.

“Wait!” You shouted, causing Spencer’s head to whip back around.

“You almost forgot these,” you say, handing him the fuzzy pink handcuffs. He chuckles and tucks them into his pocket before disappearing out the door.