#( i hope this works for u angel <3 )

[quietwingsinthesky]

this gentle life of ours

(Other Links: Dreamwidth - FFNet - Pillowfort - Squidgeworld)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: N/A Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Midafer Additional Tags: Mpreg, Pregnant Lucifer (Supernatural), Pregnant Michael (Supernatural), Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, Alternate Universe Wordcount: 3039 Summary:

Getting Michael pregnant is an accident. Lucifer? Not as much. Or, Adam and his two pregnant archangel house spouses <3

Notes:

Now this is for @nugget-of-joy, who gave me a prompt, yes, but made it a submission aksljdalskjd. but i forgive her and give her 3000-ish words. the original prompt was "Midafer with both angels being knocked up 👀 thoughts?" and my thoughts were Yes :)

Lucifer has been staying with them a few weeks by the time Michael starts to show.

Michael was the one who dragged him home. Adam doesn’t have the full story, only that one day it’s just him and Michael in the house and the next, their guest room is the devil’s new home. Of course he’s curious, but so far, he’s pretty sure he and Michael have carved out a life for themselves by virtue of no one noticing they got out of the Cage. Bringing Lucifer in jeopardizes that, sure, but trying to figure out where he was before Michael found him is asking for trouble that Adam, frankly, doesn’t need to deal with.

For the first few days, he didn’t even see Lucifer. Michael spent most of his time with him. The ability to be jealous was burnt out of Adam a few hundred years ago in Hell. It would require him to believe Michael would ever leave, and that’s not just unlikely, it’s laughable. Lucifer started leaving his room after that beginning lull. He was quiet. Adam might call him jumpy, even paranoid. It was something in his eyes. A hunted look. Pity came first and easiest, but compassion? That was harder to summon up for him.

Not until Michael was gone one day, and Lucifer was freaking out about something he refused to explain to Adam, and Adam had to tug him over to the couch to lay on top of him like his own personal weighted blanket. Lucifer melted where he was pinned under Adam. They stayed like that until Michael came back, far better equipped to help Lucifer than Adam was.

After that, he began to fit into their lives in places Adam hadn’t known were empty. Lucifer cuddled between them in bed and eating dinner at their table and sleeping in their bed. Michael takes brotherly love to a whole other level, and Lucifer soaks it up like he’s starved for it. Adam can't help falling in love with him, too. Especially as Lucifer begins to relax a little more, trust that he and Michael aren't about to throw him out. He learns to cook, he builds himself a garden, and he pouts for attention when he feels he hasn't gotten enough for the day.

And then, Michael is pregnant.

There really is no other outcome for him and Adam never using protection. Adam had assumed that Michael, being an archangel and powerful enough that he dragged them both out of the deepest part of Hell by pure stubbornness, was able to keep himself from being knocked up. Adam was wrong. He’s not that upset about it. Having a kid is terrifying, having one with Michael even more so, but at the same time, he thinks about their little terror running underfoot one day and finds himself smiling without meaning to. (He even thinks about their kid growing up with Lucifer still around, and… he likes it. This is their home, this is their life, and Lucifer is going to be a part of all of it.)

Michael's belly grows, the curve of it undeniably pushing on every shirt he wears. Adam’s a little obsessed. Michael will let him put his hands over the bump while he tells him what’s going on underneath. It’s too early to feel any kicking, but Adam can’t seem to pull himself away. That’s Michael’s baby. That’s his baby.

As his computer tabs fill up with searches about baby food and cribs, he begins to notice Lucifer watching them. He hovers in the doorway while Michael and Adam are debating which color to paint the new nursery. (Michael says it should be dark since the point of the room is to put the baby to sleep; Adam says it should be something brighter because they've had seen dark places in their lives.) He doesn't say a word when he sees Adam babyproofing the house (something Michael has told him again and again isn't necessary, as though an unprotected electric socket or a stray bottle of detergent could actually harm their child, but it's about the principle of the thing) but he does follow him from room to room. He pretends to be doing something else whenever Adam glances over at him, but he's not being particularly subtle. It's the first time Adam starts to have doubts about him being around their kid. They'll be half Michael's, half angel, but that other half of them will still be human. Adam's pretty sure that Lucifer's opinions on humanity haven't shifted much since the Apocalypse. (If anything, they've soured more since he's seen what humans have done to the world he loves. It's a touchy subject, and therefore, banned from the dinner table.)

It hurts more than Adam expected it would to think that Lucifer won't love their child as much as he and Michael will.

The morning after those thoughts begin to stew in his head is a pretty one. Almost clear skies with wisps of cloud that let the sun stream down through their windows. By the time Adam is awake, his bed has long been abandoned by his archangels. (The night before, Lucifer had still come to sleep with them, but for the first time, he'd slept with his back to both of them. Michael had noticed, but he hadn't said anything, only fallen asleep with his frown pulled tight.) Adam drags himself reluctantly from his bed to the kitchen. He can't hear coffee brewing, but Michael hasn't been able to stand the smell for the past week and Adam will do anything to make him more comfortable, even if his caffeine-addicted brain hates his guts for it. At least Michael's there for him to wrap himself around, face buried in the crook of his neck where he's warm and soft. Adam's hands sneak around his middle to caress his belly.

"Good morning," Michael says. Adam grunts an interim response while he wakes up enough to make words. Being near Michael is helping. He smells nice.

"Morning," Adam finally manages, and he lets Michael turn around in his arms so that he can kneel down and press a kiss to his baby bump. "Good morning to you, too."

"You know that they can't hear you yet, right?" Michael asks, spoiling Adam's fun. Adam ignores him.

"You be good to your dad today, huh? He's grumpy enough already." Michael huffs, and Adam smiles up at him. He rises to kiss Michael, wiping away any hint of annoyance. Adam rests his forehead against Michael's when the kiss breaks. He misses having Michael possess him, but Michael needs to keep their baby safe and the idea of being pregnant himself makes Adam extremely dysphoric. It's different when it's Michael, even in a body that mirrors his own. Michael is so happy with parts of Adam that used to make him feel sick that he sees them in a new light, and even his own memories of living in a body closer to how Michael keeps it are no longer as painful. Besides, and Adam can admit this without any shame, Michael looks hot carrying his kid.

It's Michael who tilts his head away from Adam to look behind him. Adam follows his gaze, glancing back over his shoulder as Michael asks, "Lucifer?"

Lucifer winces when Michael says his name. He looks immediately like he wants to be anywhere but there, watching the two of them talk about their child. He turns his gaze down to the floor and refuses to look up again.

"This isn't going to work," Adam says. "You can't stalk us around the house like this. What's so wrong about Michael having a kid that you can't even look at him?" Michael makes a noise, quiet and hurt, and Adam realizes he hadn't even put the pieces together about why Lucifer was acting weird. He hates that he had to be the one to bring it to light, but if they don't take care of it now, he can see it snowballing into a serious disaster. They've built something together, and Adam isn't about to give it up.

"I never said anything about that," Lucifer answers. He speaks very softly. Adam's never heard him raise his voice in the entire time he's been living with them. (He'd been expecting it. Arguments between him and Michael, day in and day out, only slightly better than the Cage because the insults wouldn't echo for a hundred years afterwards and cut just as deep. Instead, even as he feels more safe around them, Lucifer is still quiet. It's like something out there had fun breaking him, and no one had bothered to pick up the pieces before Michael brought him home.)

"Then stop acting"—Adam gestures at him, frustrated—"like that. Like the whole world is going to end because of a baby." Lucifer still won't look at them.

"Is that what this is about?" Michael asks. "Lucifer, our child-"

"Your child," Lucifer corrects. "Adam didn't give them to me. He gave them to you." Adam blinks. Finally, Lucifer glances up at them.

What's on Lucifer's face isn't disgust. It's longing.

"Are you jealous?" Adam asks in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe?" Lucifer's voice hardens for the first time Adam's heard in a long time. He turns his accusations onto Michael, ignoring Adam's surprise. "You knew we could create life? That I could-" There's a choke that cuts off his words, and silence, and quietly again, "You knew it would come out wrong if I did it, didn't you? That's why you weren't going to tell me." Lucifer was terrifying, once. Adam's sure he could be again, if he wanted to. He stands at the threshold of the kitchen, shoulders slumped, and looks as though he's been kicked until he won't get up again. "It would be like me." The resignation in his voice is so heavy, even Adam feels weighed down by it.

"Wait," he says, buying himself time to process all of that, "wait, you- You're mad at Michael because he's having a baby and you aren't?"

Adam's life was supposed to have reached the point at which it couldn't get more surreal a few years ago.

Lucifer doesn’t answer him. 

They have a big nursery. Room enough to fit two cribs, side to side. 

Adam takes a step away from Michael. He feels Michael’s fingers trail down his arm as he moves, but he’s not going anywhere. Only far enough to hold Lucifer’s hand and draw him further into the room. He shouldn’t be standing on the sidelines anymore. He belongs here.

“If you want a baby that bad, you could just ask,” he says.

”Michael already-“

”We can have more than one baby,” Adam explains, purposefully slow so that Lucifer will get annoyed with him and pull his energy away from being upset. It works.

”I didn’t tell you because I had no idea you wanted it,” Michael cuts in. “Brother, any child of yours would be a blessing, not a curse.” Michael lifts a hand to cup Lucifer’s cheek as Adam squeezes his hand. He can hear the words unspoken, and neither are you, and hopes Lucifer can, too. Though, if he still can’t, if he doesn’t believe Michael, then they have plenty of time to prove it to him. Starting with this.

“Then, you’ll let me have a baby?” Hope is such a rare thing to hear in Lucifer’s voice. Adam grins.

”Only if you’re okay with changing diapers.” Lucifer does make a face at that, but it melts away as he realizes he can get exactly what he wants. He squeezes Adam’s hand back. 

He waits a moment, and then says, “Has it happened yet?”

Adam and Michael stare at him. Lucifer stares back, unbothered. 

“We haven’t…” Adam trails off. It occurs to him that he’s never had sex with Lucifer, and Michael has never mentioned having sex with Lucifer, and between the Cage and the Apocalypse, Adam doubts he had time to get down and dirty with the demons or humans he equally despised. Which means that Adam has to ask a very important question. “You do know how babies are made, right?”

“Human ones. I’m not human.” Adam looks at Michael. 

“We’re in human vessels,” Michael says.

It takes Lucifer a minute of frowning to figure out what they mean. When he’s done, Adam swears he can see his cheeks flush. 

“I haven’t done that before,” he admits. 

The devil is a virgin. He’s asking Adam to deflower and knock him up all at once. It’s a lot for Adam to handle. His dick happily disagrees. This is exactly what it wants to handle.

There’s only one way to take care of him. Adam grips Lucifer’s hand in one of his and takes Michael’s with the other, and he leads both of them to their bedroom to finally make better use of their king-sized mattress.

----

By the time Lucifer’s baby bump is showing, Michael’s has grown huge, and Adam is in (exhausting) Heaven.

Their bedroom has become a nest where he swears more pillows are added every day. Being pregnant drains a lot of Lucifer and Michael’s energy, which they aren’t used to at all, leading to situations where they tire themselves out using more grace than they should and Adam has to haul them to bed or the couch to lay down for a minute. Michael gets cravings for foods that have gone extinct, and because of that, Lucifer’s garden is now crowded with several impossible plants bearing fruits that haven’t grown on Earth in hundreds of years. Adam keeps seeing toys at the store and buying them, even though it’ll still be a few months before the babies are born and longer before they’ll be able to appreciate stuffed animals.

Here, in their secret corner of the world, the future is starting to look a lot brighter.

(Adam’s not fooling himself, though. He knows this won’t be easy. He’s heard Michael and Lucifer whispering to each other about how much harder it’ll get to hide their children once they’re older. Adam hasn’t even met either of them yet, but he’ll fight off the whole world, Heaven and Hell included, if he has to to protect them. Though, maybe he’d be better suited to holding the babies while Michael and Lucifer take care of all that that.)

He’s rubbing lotion into Lucifer’s skin, the kind that brags it can ease stretchmarks, which Lucifer doesn’t really understand (He loves the few that he has. Adam’s seen him admiring them, pleased by the changes in his vessel.) but lets Adam do anyway because he loves being pampered. He’s almost purring under Adam’s touch, leaning back against his Michael’s side with his eyes shut.

Michael looks tired. He’s more prone to overextending himself than Lucifer is. Months of a baby nephil draining his grace haven’t taught him to take better care of himself, but that’s why Adam’s here. He can give Michael a massage once he’s done with Lucifer.

”We’ll raise them as brothers, right?” Lucifer asks. Adam drops a kiss to his navel. Michael’s belly button popped out a week ago, yet another difference between Adam’s body and the one Michael inhabits that was based off of his. Michael doesn’t answer long enough for Lucifer to open his eyes and glance up at him. Michael smiles. 

“Brother and sister, actually,” he corrects. Adam looks up from kissing Lucifer’s belly. Lucifer blinks, and then he looks even more excited than he did before.

”You’re having a girl?” Adam asks. Michael nods. Adam feels his chest pull tight. They haven’t even discussed names yet, but he’s been thinking, of course he’s been thinking, and Kate would be a lovely name for a baby girl, and- He takes a deep breath to calm his racing thoughts. “That’s amazing,” he says. They have all the time in the world to sort that out. 

“I love her,” Lucifer says. “I love both of them. They’re ours, Michael, we made them.” Lucifer’s voice gets soft, almost giddy, whenever he brings that up. It means the world to him that he can create this new life, that it will be beautiful and all theirs to take care of.

”What, not mine too?” Adam teases, though he knows Lucifer doesn’t mean it like that. Humans make babies all the time. Angels? Not so much. Still, Lucifer turns to look at him, still grinning. 

“And yours,” he agrees. "These ones and the next few-“

“Next few?” That’s the first Adam’s hearing of that.

“We can’t just have two. They’ll get lonely. We need at least four.” That tugs on Adam’s heartstrings a little, but not enough for him to agree to that just yet. 

“Let’s see how well we handle having these two first. Then we’ll see about having more.” Lucifer huffs, but he doesn’t argue. His hand splays over his belly. Adam covers it. 

“How hard could it be to raise two children?” Michael asks, with the doubt of someone who was left in charge of hundreds of little angels and thinks that any of those skills he acquired leading Heaven are going to translate neatly over to snacktime and putting them down for naps.

“We’ll see how you still feel once she’s able to cry,” Adam says. Michael does not seem convinced this is going to be a challenge. He’s going to eat those words, Adam’s sure, but they’ll get through it together. “Hey, how do your ankles feel?” Michael tips his head down, realizes he can’t see them past his belly, and props them up on the coffee table. Adam clicks his tongue. “I told you to stay off you’re feet or they’ll swell up worse.” 

“I’m not going to sit here and make you take care of everything,” Michael says as Adam slides off the couch and onto his knees, bringing Michael’s foot into his lap. He gently massages the swollen area.

”Why not? I would,” Lucifer says, sleepily. Michael sighs, but it rolls into one of relief as Adam rubs his foot.

Adam smiles to himself. They’re going to handle this just fine together.

[thedeadthree]

🌿 YELENA VORONIN (fo3) in the commonwealth, thrilled to at last have all her friends in one place to have the holiday party she’s always wanted!!!!!

🚄 MIKA MINEGISHI (bullet train) thrilled now that the man who stole her birthright has bit the dust.. now she’s spending all of his money! good for her!

🕰 EDELGARD VANDERWEYDEN (fernweh saga) visiting her family in germany for the holidays with reese! and still very adamant she is not head over heels. <3

🧥 ISIDORA VARGAS née dalí (call of duty) can’t stand holiday parties but her and alejandro invited the besties and her and her spouse have a contest for who’s the better gift giver and she will win.

TAGGED BY the darlings @risingsh0t, @jacobseed, @chuckhansen, @echo3-1, @shellibisshe, @leviiackrman and @jendoe to do the dears in this cutest meiker! ty ty! <3

TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @kingsroad, @aartyom, @unholymilf, @denerims, @arklay, @morvaris, @queennymeria, @adelaidedrubman, @marivenah, @florbelles, @phillipsgraves, @confidentandgood, @leondaltons, @thee-morrigan, @yennas, @jackiesarch, @veisshaupt and you!

[boxowo]

the thang at his most so far

[upthebrackets]

Here she is! Favourite albums of 2022 ✨

A super weird year for me where I didn't feel like I enjoyed music (esp new releases) as much as I'd become used to, but some gems still broke through all that:

angel in realtime. - Gang of Youths

Ants From Up There - Black Country, New Road

Big Time - Angel Olsen

Dance Fever - Florence + The Machine

Leave The Light On - Pillow Queens

MOTOMAMI - Rosalía

Surrender - Maggie Rogers

Laurel Hell - Mitski

Harry's House - Harry Styles

A somewhat shorter than usual bonus round this year: PRE PLEASURE - Julia Jacklin // The Car - Arctic Monkeys // Here Is Everything - The Big Moon /// We've Been Going About This All Wrong - Sharon Van Etten

Tagging @kurapyka @cowboybruce @you-think-its-trash-granny @fluorescentidol for no other reason than you guys liked the post I made about this yesterday lol, no pressure to make your own lists or anything <3 Usually I would tag more people but it's January so it feels late + I don't wanna be annoying but lmk if u wanna do this and I'll come back and tag you. Love you, HNY! ❤

[nerice]

Oddly specific q but what is the situation with belle & the tracker in her? Does Faye install it to be able to track her down? Did Jumie install it (into every child) so Belle never gets lost? Can Faye control Belle with it?

Red Hurting Sun & Dream Game sound like such painful but also intense(good) chapters! And Faye seems like the most complex and evil character while also being hurt and having her reasons if that makes sense????? Anyway ily your shadowblogging bye <3

GOOD EVENING ANON DEAREST I CAN FINALLY ANSWER THIS !!!!!!! PRAY THAT MY WRIST HOLDS OUT

uh so. the tracker is important. the tracker is like /the most important/ as far as central plot mechanics are concerned and the last time i did a comprehensive writeup on it this happened.....

(with the other writing linked in that document full length is closer to 35k. rip) SO THIS ANSWER WILL BE ABRIDGED for all our sakes.

the tracker is what pulls every single book together, even if it features in some more prominently (nerice, dream game) than the others. by the time it concerns belle, it has long ceased its original function. the first time it turns up is back on nerice, where eliada helps the warlords build a tracker for reina bc he himself is also sulking that she keeps refusing 2 talk to him. bitch behavior <3 tldr is that the swords of a tracker (the person, that eliada is) are the only thing able to pierce a true ruler's skin (a/s mechanics, dw abt it) and so thru him they're able to engenieer a mechanical dragonfly that upon contact, burrows under the skin of reina's wrist (if you ever wondered where her scar comes from... :^)) this is also what, ultimately, causes her to split her soul in an attempt to get rid of it, which causes the moons to break and kickstarts the entire fucking verse saga. with the end of her world, the tracker becomes inert but reina keeps it for unwise sentimentality reasons (hands u meme abt it) w

in old plot, eliada petitioned to get his hands on it during one of their roa deals (bonus points bc jumie wld be around for that trade, even if eliada n reina only euphemistically talk abt it as 'the dragonfly' and she'd only see a small box change hands) but lately i've been more inclined to move that event into lhnh where reina, from her end, volunteers the tracker to make eliada talk abt the soulless (gray) bc it makes slightly more sense thematically for her to refuse all his trades until then. either way, the tracker is back in eliada's hands by the end of the azra war era.

bc the tracker was not simply tracking reina. eliada's entire quest is abt understanding the precise workings of true rulers, so, given the opportunity, he made the tracker also collect,, not quite her blood? smth more vague and metaphysical, refined through an inner process into something more, something more essential. [true ruler essence] for the sake of meta terminology. he cannot actually do anything with it in his current position but plans on analyzing it and comparing it to true rulers of a/s once he returns home. which is the entire problem bc he is stuck as long as the verse is broken [PLAYED URSELF. <3] which brings us to. him & faye thinking long and hard forever abt how to fix the moons so they can both go home. yippee

which is ofc how we get to belle. how we get to the entire daughter con situation (skipping over many messy timelines that preceded arriving at this final, working solution) which, in tldr terms, is this:

a vessel whose soul is the tracker. whose very existence is linked the essence of reina before the split, before the fall, an essence from before the moon core broke. an artificial child, created for the sole purpose of burning this essence back into the moon core and thereby repair it. so you have belle, who thinks herself a descendant, but really is just a dead dragonfly with true ruler dna walking. faye connects her to the moon core by forcing her to swallow the eternal souls (chess's eyes that gray so generously removed once upon a time. <3 wld say the only good deed he has ever done but this shit was part of what broke the entire machine in the first place, it just happens to conveniently hand faye a way to also put it back together) and really all that is left to do then is set belle on fire via angel theory & fuse her existence into the moon core. make her the conduit through which the entire machinery can begin to work as intended again. just that 7000/10 times belle breaks under the strain, the weight of the universe, leaving faye to do it all over again bc the theory is solid. it's the daughter that's wrong :^)

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

sparkle on stampede saturday !

[tearfest]

closed starter for @daemonry from this post.

ㅤㅤthere's remnants of the night before littered across the motel floor, having taken up temporary housing there to avoid the well intended lectures from her brother about how she's throwing her life away. her hair's a mess — her clothes discarded in piles on the floor, a stray sock from one of last nights visitors tangled amongst the mess whilst she's sat on the edge of the bed, clad in nothing more than her lingerie. the bags under her eyes are dark enough to be mistaken for bruises, the colour having been drained from her face along with the serotonin from her brain. but at least hyun was here now. " what's wrong? you haven't even looked at my tits once. what— are you getting bored of me? "

[idilika]

“ your hair is so lovely, lady sansa,” a shy smile curls on rosy lips, as she keeps on running the comb through the girl’s auburn locks. The color reminds elain of beautiful flowers ( everything about sansa stark is beautiful, even if sometimes, the child can be quite prideful ), she recalls the court ladies being often envious of sansa’s youth and beauty, just as much as they are of elain’s. It is simply not very pleasant to be at the court sometimes ( not what she’d expected, not even now that queen cersei has taken keen interest in her visions ).

there is something awfully dark about queen cersei being interested in something elain has always hated so much. Sometimes, she feels trapped within king’s landing, and sometimes, she thinks lady sansa feels the same.

“ it is soft, like silk – like the petals of the roses in the tyrell estate. have you ever visited? I have not, but lady margaery once gifted me a red rose from there – ‘twas truly beautiful. ” @pendlng ft. sansa stark

[justabunchofdragons]

o... .. .,,, ! !!! i am very happy with where i am in this moment

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 7

in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader sleep together for the first time

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: loss of virginity, oral f/m receiving, so much praise, pain during sex, unprotected sex, cr**mp**, bit of overstim, soft dom spence, if u don't like that freak shit (love and intimacy) this is not for u, spencer is a nerd, they're both nerds actually and that factors in heavily, you may get more from this part by FIRST reading how they met in this bonus chapter a/n: thank you all for being patient, ilysm, this was the most laborious thing i've ever done for no reason and also this part changed so many times and is not what i expected it to be so pls go in with tempered expectations and keep in mind that this story is more about the characters and their specific relationship dynamic than just being porn. i truly have no idea how you guys will react to this but i sincerely hope you love it and them like i do<3 also it's twice as long as the other parts so feedback would be very very appreciated! again i love u all and enjoy the penultimate part!

Spencer’s lips are on yours, and you weren’t expecting it—hell, you weren’t expecting him to be in your apartment. After all, he’d wished you goodnight and walked out only a moment ago.

“Spencer—wh—” 

But he’s insistent with his lips, kissing you bruisingly over and over like there’s nectar on your tongue and he’s parched for you. Still, he has enough decency to not completely ignore you, exhaling a quick excuse over your flushed lips. 

“I missed you.”

This time, though, you dodge his hungry kiss. Part of you thinks, as he watches you, eyes alight and breathing heavily, that he sort of likes your playing hard to get. It’s not something you do very often, admittedly. 

“We’ve been apart for like, maybe a minute.”

“I didn’t even make it to the parking lot.”

Your face heats.  

“Well you can’t just—you can’t just walk in like that! And I thought you said we weren’t supposed to mix fighting with pleasure.”

“Then start locking your door. And I thought you said we weren’t fighting.”

You roll your eyes in response, though your heart is still pittering in your chest. 

At least his hands move to your arms, stroking up and down relatively chastely—although he has this way of making everything seem intimate. Especially when paired with those amber eyes of his—glowing like a candlelight beacon in the window guiding you home. He speaks in low, appeasing tones and darts his tongue over his lips. 

“I originally said it’s a bad idea for couples to sleep together after an argument. But you know—makeup sex is ubiquitous across culture and time because it works. Anger and arousal trigger a lot of the same hormones, specifically norepinephrine which is involved in feelings of longing and—”

“Spencer.”

“You know what else?” He mutters in a way that feels dangerous. “It tends to feel better than regular sex.”

That earns a shaky exhale from you. Whether from irritation or arousal is anyone’s guess—probably a combination of both. 

“So you came back to fuck me?”

It’s probably evident to Spencer from your choice of language that this already isn’t going exactly as he’d planned. He doesn’t answer right away—just regards you, gaze bouncing between your two eyes like he’s trying to calculate your level of anger. 

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

You push him away and move to walk down the hall. 

“Maybe your window of opportunity has passed.”

A warm hand wraps around your wrist in the dark of the hallway and he pulls you back until you’re falling against something tall and warm and lean. The smell of polished amber and sandalwood overwhelms your senses. 

“What’s wrong, angel? What happened in the minute I was gone to change your mind?” His voice is scratchy like a favorite record. It’s the voice he could hold you captive with. The one you have a very difficult time saying no to. 

“I don’t know,” you mutter, unintentionally leaning back against him. “What happened to change yours?”

His response comes pressed against your ear, half-lost in your hair. 

“You’re upset that I changed my mind. I thought you wanted this, honey.”

“I do,” you admit, letting your head fall back against his shoulder and bringing his arm to wrap around you. “And if you hadn’t walked out earlier I would’ve done it. But… I’m tired of us doing everything on your timeline. You just… you expect me to be amenable to what you want, constantly.” His nose and lips press into your shoulder. 

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I’ve been begging you to sleep with me for I don’t even know how long. And you keep changing your mind, and I feel like you’re being really confusing about it. Obviously you don’t have to sleep with me, you never did, but I just feel kind of… jerked around. And you did it again tonight.”

A beat of silence. 

“I understand your frustration,” he appeases, securing both his arms around you. You cling weakly to his wrist, to his warmth, like he’s a tether in a storm. “Would you prefer to wait until you initiate it?”

“No. Yes! I don’t know,” you huff, disentangling yourself from his arms and continuing toward your bedroom. “Now I’m annoyed at you again.”

He follows you right through the door. 

“Just tell me what to do! I don’t want to be annoying.”

“I can’t. I’m being unreasonable.” You flick on your adjoining bathroom light and examine yourself in the mirror. Yeesh. The eye makeup situation is abysmal after all the crying that has taken place over the course of the evening. 

“So choose to be reasonable and tell me what you want from me. I’ll give it to you.”

You frown at your reflection, pushing your hair back and rubbing at some excess mascara. 

“No, you’re not understanding me. I’m not choosing to be unreasonable. My thought process regarding the situation is inherently unreasonable and there’s nothing I can do about it because it’s just the way I feel.”

“The feeling being that I’ve been too domineering over how our sexual relationship has unfolded?”

Spencer watches you in the bathroom mirror, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed as you tip some makeup remover onto a reusable cotton pad. You try not to check him out as you nod, but it’s impossible—with his sleeves rolled up to show defined forearms cradled in capable hands, and his hair all messy. 

When he pushes off the wall you freeze, unsure of his next move—until he’s gently spinning you around and taking the bottle and cloth from your hands. 

“Maybe it would help,” he begins, soft as he focuses on the new task, carefully bringing the round to your right eye so he can remove the bleeding mascara. You allow your eyes to flutter shut. “If I remind you why I’ve been so hesitant.”

“Because you hate giving me joy.”

He laughs, nothing more than one huff from his nose. 

“You’re spoiled and we both know it.”

Point taken, as he gently wipes your makeup away for you. Your silence is his cue to continue. 

“Everything I said about worrying that you would regret choosing me is true. It was especially true when I thought you felt lukewarm toward me. And all of that confusing stuff I said in the phone is true too—having sex for the first time is incredibly intimate and weird and sometimes scary. If you’re not 100% sure about your partner, or if you think your feelings are unrequited, it’s hard to be completely comfortable in such a vulnerable situation and your likelihood of getting hurt or having regrets skyrockets. I know that from experience. I wanted better for you than what I got. Still, I know it was wrong to project my feelings about the significance of sex onto you. In that regard, you’re right. I was being domineering, and I guess… I guess to an extent I’m still deflecting. I shouldn’t be trying to pretend like it’s about you when in reality I mostly just didn’t want to get hurt again. I didn’t want to go through that again, and that’s okay, but I shouldn’t have made you feel like it was something you could have changed.”

You try to process that. 

“Go through what?” You whisper hoarsely. Something about having him at such close range while he takes such care with you feels whisper-y. 

“Sleeping with someone who didn’t love me back.”

Your reply is small. 

“Oh. Right.”

How could anyone not love him back?

Spencer’s reply is simple and kind, without a hint of, obviously you dumb bitch—which is pretty much what you’re thinking to yourself. 

“Does that make sense, lovely? Do you understand why I wanted to wait?”

He lets you ponder for a while in comfortable-enough silence as he finishes removing your eye makeup with a characteristically gentle hand. When you open your eyes, he looks genuinely content, screwing the lid back on the bottle as if he’s got an eternity to wait for your answer. 

“Yeah. That part makes sense. But why did you seem so… I don’t know, like, wishy-washy about it?”

Spencer’s eyes dart up to meet yours, brows slightly raised. Then a small laugh bubbles up from somewhere inside him. 

“Because I’m obsessed with you. I thought about you like that constantly. I still do.”

Your breath catches at the casual admission. 

“Oh.”

Spencer hums, setting the bottle down before tenderly thumbing away some excess mascara that he must have missed from under your eye. 

“You didn’t think it was easy for me, did you?”

“Well… kind of,” you admit, tracking his eyes until they meet yours. 

“Not sleeping with you has been among the hardest things I’ve ever done. Especially when you started begging me. That first time, when I picked you up from Penelope’s and you asked me why we hadn’t had sex yet…”

He trails off, still rubbing at your cheek as he loses himself in thought. 

Eventually, you grow impatient, prompting, “what?”

“It’s not a nice thought.”

“Well, you have to tell me now,” you insist. 

He half smiles, thumb straying to your lips. 

“It was just… you had no idea what you were talking about, and you were ready to throw a tantrum in my living room until I gave you what you thought you wanted. Part of me was imagining bending you over the couch right then, since you thought you were so ready.”

It feels like someone has snipped the pulley that keeps your stomach in place. 

“Spencer,” you splutter, convinced your cheek is tangibly heating under his touch as your head reels at the revelation that he could have such a deeply dirty and mildly sinister mind. 

“I told you it wasn’t nice.”

You swallow. 

“Is that… is that still what you want?”

His brows flicker again and he tucks hair behind your ear. 

“To bend you over my couch? No.”

Your face warms even more and you turn to leave the bathroom, sick of his teasing. 

“Okay, goodni—”

“Hold on.” Spencer catches you by your waist and pulls you back into him for the second time tonight. A dangerous smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I know what you meant. And no, I don’t want to bend you over my couch.” He laughs, slipping a hand under your shirt to rub your back. “You know what I want. I’m more interested in learning what you want.”

“I want…” Your eyes dance between his, and your heart flutters against the confines of your chest as you realize what you’ve wanted for so long is finally yours for the taking. “I want to stop talking about it.”

His expression neutralizes and you know it’s probably intentional to stop whatever feelings you assume him to be having color your decision. 

“Oh?”

“I just think we’ve talked about it enough.”

Before he can say another word, or ask you another question, you kiss him with such passion there’s no way he can doubt how much you want this. 

Only a moment passes before he allows himself to lean into it, cupping your face between reverent hands and taking control of the pace of the kiss, slowing it down until you can hardly breathe. Your little noise of want has him quickening the process, pressing against you until you’re walking backward out of the bathroom. It’s like the first crack in a dam. After that, everything becomes inevitable. 

Your knees hit the back of the bed and you sit down hard on the mattress, smiling up at him. You skim the front of his thighs with your palms as he smooths your hair.

Spencer groans, leaning down and kissing you til you’re on your back. 

“Don’t make that face.”

An affronted huff from you breaks the kiss up and he pulls back to study your expression. 

“What do you mean don’t make that face? I was just smiling at you.”

“I know you were. And you have such a pretty smile it makes me feel guilty about… defiling you.”

Your brows flicker up and your mouth drops open with an affronted scoff.

“Watch yourself. I’ll defile you.”

“You already have,” he admits with a half-laugh as he kisses you again. “My mind was never this dirty before we met.”

“Hm. Tell me you like my smile.”

He pauses and then chuckles dryly against your mouth. 

“I love your smile. You’re gorgeous. Any more demands?”

Pleased, you shake your head and pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Not currently.”

“Really?” he murmurs, trailing kisses over your cheek and down your jaw, “I’d do just about anything you asked me right now. You don’t want to take advantage of that?”

The sensation of his lips just below your ear threatens all rational thought in your brain, but you manage a reply with only a slight delay and a hint of a waver coloring your tone. 

“I shouldn’t have to demand things. You should just know to do them.”

His kisses drag lower, warm and unhurried and you’re trying not to let your hyper-sensitivity from going a week completely untouched show—but you doubt he misses the way your breath catches, or the barely audible squeaks, or the arch of your back or the tightening grip on his shirt. 

“Well, for future reference—” he nips at a sensitive spot and you gasp quietly, even as you tilt your head to offer him more access. More room to bite, if he so chooses. “—I happen to enjoy it when you make demands of me. Especially when those demands entail letting me call you pretty.”

“I’ve never not let you call me pretty before,” you huff. It’s a touchy subject, and Spencer can probably sense your hackles rising, but he has you right where he wants you and so he pushes anyway. 

“No. But you never believe me. We’ve had this conversation. You always act like I’m walking you to the gallows when I compliment you.” 

It’s hard to make a defense when he’s leaning his weight onto one arm so he can unbutton your jeans, when he’s looking down at you with sparkling onyx and scorched-earth eyes like you’re something to be consumed. But not violently, no—ardently. Like fruit heavy on the vine. Like you’re a religious rite to the devout and deluded. A sacrament.

But it’s not a blind passion. Spencer knows you; every inch of you and every loose thread on your soul begging to be pulled. He knows you and he still wants you like this. To be perfectly honest, you’d never thought you’d feel comfortable handing yourself over to someone like this—vulnerable and all your layers of armor shed. Never in your life would you have thought you could trust a person so implicitly that you’d hand them a knife and show them exactly where to press, that you’d say, I know once you open me and you see me you’ll not want to change a thing.

You adore him. Cosmically. Enormously. In every dimension. He’s lodged so deep in your heart you have no choice but to love him eternally. 

It’s deep in the midst of all these very profound revelations that you realize Spencer has stalled with your zipper undone. His hand has strayed to your hip, to sweetly push your shirt up and trace love letters into warmed and downy skin with his thumb. 

“I just wish you could see yourself how I see you,” he says softly, the weight of the truth a strain on his vocal cords. 

Sometimes, he is so kind it’s like a punch to your stomach. You’ve never been quite as kind as him. And nobody’s ever been as kind to you as he is. You’ve done nothing to deserve his kindness, but you know he needs a place for it, and you’re here with open arms. 

He studies you a moment longer, swallowing as his eyes trail over your face and lower. You want to reach out and brush strands of caramel hair out of his face, but he seems to be thinking so hard you’re hesitant to distract him. 

“I’ve never told you this, because I know you’d just shoot it down, but… you are genuinely the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met in my life.”

Something twinges in the depths of your stomach—the darker shades who live there and exist solely to whisper not enough not enough not enough to you every minute of every day. 

But they’re simply not a match for the softness you find when you do reach out for his hair, or the way he looks at you. Spencer loosely wraps his fingers around your wrist—not a cuff, but an affectionate hold. 

“Do you believe me?”

There’s so much earnest hope in his voice it almost jars you. He so badly wants you to understand how feels about you—he’s been trying to tell you for months and all you know how to do is refute his praise and insist on your worthlessness. 

Ever since Spencer, you don’t see the faces on magazine covers or in superhero movies, no matter how mathematically flawless they are. Nobody gets close to being as beautiful as he is in your eyes. He’s in an entirely different echelon, and despite how you feel about yourself, you have to accept that he might feel the same about you. 

“I do,” you say, equally soft, and 100% honest. You believe that he believes it, and that’s enough. It’s all that matters. 

The shallow knit of his brow loosens. His lips ease into a suggestion of a smile. But it’s most visible in his eyes—the way smoldering coals reignite, melting the amber glass of his irises until they’re molten. 

The way he kisses you then, you’d think you’d lassoed the moon and pulled it down from the sky for him. But apparently all it takes to make him incandescently, contagiously happy, is to accept a compliment.

There’s a renewed sense of urgency on his breath as he kisses you deeply and quick enough your heart is racing. It only goes faster when he remembers his previous task and begins tugging your jeans down, but he doesn’t even bother to pull them past your knees before his hand is creeping up your thigh. Goosebumps race each other across your body as you try to remember what it feels like—what he feels like. But you can’t, even as his thumb fans over your inner thigh and pushes it open, gently encouraging you to give him more access to you. 

“You’re not wasting any time,” you breathe against him while he traces the edge of your underwear.

“Do you want me to slow down?”

Judging by the way the tips of his fingers only barely shy away from the fabric, he really wants the answer to be no. But you know in his searching gaze that he’d never push you. 

“No, it’s fine. As long as we… don’t go this fast the whole time.”

“We won’t.” The hasty words are of lower priority than the next kiss he plants to your swollen lips. “We won’t. I just missed you so much.”

“Yeah?” You giggle airily as he drags his fingers over your clit through the material, trying to ignore the way it makes your head spin. 

“Yes. Yeah.”

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, so… desperate for you, as he drops his lips to your neck and presses barely-there kisses everywhere he knows you’re sensitive. Just the feeling of his breath against your skin has you shivering. His hand between your legs only brushes your most nerve-dense spot, but a few touches in and you’re already wound up, like if Spencer doesn’t give you more soon you’ll burst. And not in the good way. 

When he finally commits to actually kissing your neck, you squeak, warmth emanating from that spot just below your jaw all the way to your toes. The frantic energy of earlier is slowly melting away, and he loses focus with his hand, as it begins straying wider, stroking your hip, your inner thigh, your stomach. It’s like your nerve endings are on overdrive, delivering twice as much feedback to your brain as they normally would. Each touch feels like he’s conducting electricity over your body, like you’re a plasma ball. He’d probably like that analogy—you, a core of alternating voltage, and him, the conductor, tracing a path and giving all those electrons an easy release. If you weren’t so distracted, you’d tell Spencer you found a way to work Nikola Tesla into your mutual sex life, and he’d probably propose on the spot. 

But that electricity is building fast—even more so when he drags his lips down just above your collarbone. Your breath hitches, simultaneously trying to crane your neck to give him more room, and curl into him so as to escape the stimulation. Finally he pulls away, and losing the softness of his mouth while the air feels so cold against the places he’d kissed almost hurts. 

“You’re a mess,” he chuckles affectionately, raising his hand to brush hair away from your face before stroking the heated high point of your cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”

It’s teasing, but so low and gentle and honeyed it swirls your stomach. 

“Whatever you want,” you admit quietly. It’s a shy confession more than it is a salacious flirtation because he already has you. And you want nothing more than for him to act on that in any way he so pleases. Whatever he does, it will be careful, and kind, and because he loves you. You know that no matter how he takes you apart—he’ll put you back together again. 

“I don’t know if I can. You’re all jumpy.”

God, he has the prettiest smile—even when it’s twisted with sarcasm and a thin veneer of guilt, like he knows he shouldn’t be teasing and just can’t help himself. 

“I’m not,” you defend, face heating further. “I’m not nervous. I don’t know what it is.”

That sticky sweet tone is back, pooling in his eyes and dripping all over you like nectar as he languidly looks you over. 

“I didn’t say you were nervous. Just a little bit jumpy.”

It’s not accusatory—he’s simply stating a fact. Easy, gentle, designed to soothe. 

You shrug helplessly and chew on your lip, unsure of how he wants you to respond. It’s definitely true that excited as you are, you’re slightly on edge. You feel taut as a string on a guitar, tense and waiting to be yanked at any second. 

His expression is serene, and his thoughts inscrutable as he continues lavishing you with his eyes, down to where he’s lying over you and back up. His lips part, but he doesn’t speak for a moment as he formulates his words. 

“Can we try something? There’s this tantric exercise that might help you relax.”

Your brows draw earnestly and you nod up at him, not requiring any convincing even though you have no idea what he’s talking about. 

Spencer directs you to sit up, and you do—kicking your jeans all the way off so you can sit criss-cross with your hands braced on your ankles. 

He’s next to you on the bed, at a slight angle, one of your knees in his lap. You blink at him. 

“Now what?”

“Now you give me one of your hands,” he says, tone tinted with a hint of an amused smile, as if your impatience is funny to him. Of course it probably is. 

Frowning only a little, you unlock your left arm and hold it out for him, watching curiously as he takes your one hand between his and flips it palm-up. 

“Did you know,” Spencer begins, voice low and confidential, “that the fingertips are the second most sensitive part of the human body?”

“What’s the first?”

“Lips,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your hand where he’s brushing the tips of your fingers light enough it almost tickles. “They’re both incredibly important for keeping you alive, which is why they’re one and two. But you’ll be particularly sensitive anywhere you’re vulnerable.” His words are trailing off as he brushes his thumb over your palm and to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Like here.”

His knuckles skim up your forearm, to the crook of your elbow. 

“And especially here.”

You’re fascinated as he traces back down the length of your arm and over your inner-wrist, feather light. Then up once more, with the blunted edges of his nails, and your breath catches. You’ve never noticed how sensitive such an innocuous part of your body could be, but it has your stomach flipping—more so when he looses a breathy laugh. “You know, some people are actually able to reach orgasm just by light stimulation to this area.”

Your response is just as airy—you don’t recognize your voice when it comes out like that, hanging in the pitch black between you. 

“Really?” 

An affirmative hum from him, as he lifts your hand and places an intentional kiss over your pulse at the bend of your wrist. Your chest aches and heat is pooling in your stomach as his gently trails them up the delicate skin of your arm. Maybe you should be embarrassed by the reaction you’re having—after all, it’s just your arm. But he treats every part of you like it warrants love and attention and intimacy. Even the parts you typically ignore. Certainly parts you never considered to be sexually or romantically relevant. It’s dizzying. It’s like magic. 

“Arms up,” Spencer finally directs, just as sweetly as he’s doing everything else, and helps you tug your shirt over your head. Every brush of fabric, every seam against your skin registers more than it normally would. Everything is heightened, and despite your state of undress you’re still warm. “Your neck is really sensitive, too. It’s the most commonly acknowledged erogenous zone.”

Erogenous zone. Of course this all comes back to biology. 

“Tilt your head for me, honey.”

Utterly entranced and useless to not abide by him, you do so. Spencer brushes your hair over your shoulder, and if the slip of it down your back weren’t enough, the graze of his fingertips against the nape of your neck has you shivering. 

The warmth of him at your throat feels completely brand new, despite having already had his lips there only minutes before. But now they ghost over your skin with a kind of novelty, and your own lips part in silent pleasure, head lolling to allow him greater access.

“Lie back.”

Without hesitation (but perhaps a bit sluggishly in your stupor) you obey, sliding down until you’re propped up only by pillows once more. Spencer takes his place propped above you once more, thighs slotted with yours as he quickly picks up where he left off. 

The sweet kisses are perfect and feel so much better than you’d ever thought to notice before—but at the same time your core aches and there’s that pressure building again that’s starting to get to you. 

“Spencer,” you try, and it comes out hoarse but you don’t care at all. “More.”

“You want me to leave marks?” 

And the offer is so tempting you’ll wait a few more minutes to ask for what you really need, nodding semi-frantically and ‘mhm’-ing desperately. 

As he gently latches onto a spot that will require concealer later but feels fantastic for now, one of his hands slips down your side, just barely letting his nails skim, and your back actually arches. It’s a shocking amount of stimulation for being nowhere near any sexual hotspots. That tiny caught breath dissolves as his fingers continue down just as lightly over your hip and thigh. Your muscles tense as you chase and run away from the feeling. It’s ridiculous.

There’s no point in trying to keep your eyes open now—they grow heavy and you let them fall shut as he sucks another love bite to your throat. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it? It’s kind of weird.” He says, voicing your thoughts as he eventually decides the mark will be sufficiently dark. 

“Yeah,” you agree, lacking all eloquence as he caresses every sensitive place you didn’t know you had and your hips writhe minutely in a little desperate dance of your own creation. 

“Most people aren’t aware of the potential of the erogenous zones that aren’t actual sex organs. They don’t pay attention to them. You know what else is an interesting function of erotic stimulation to areas that aren’t directly involved in reproduction?”

“Hm,” you hum as his hand skims to your back. You lean into it and he promptly undoes your bra with a single hand—a skill you’re not even sure you have. 

“It releases not quite as much oxytocin as an orgasm but more than sexual pleasure alone. So you’re less tense before sex than you usually would be, and you’re primed to build more trust and feel more connected with your partner during.”

God, he’s a nerd. And it’s so, so hot. 

You roll over on your back again and look up at him through half-lidded eyes. The corner of his mouth flickers as he takes in your expression, before trailing downward, following the path his fingertips make over your skin as they tug the straps over your shoulders. Trying to stop him, to be shy, would be a pointless venture. He’s seen you like this and you want him to see you again. 

A shaky exhale of his own brings a little smile to your face as he pulls your bra away and observes the newly bared skin with a hunger that you can feel. 

“I missed you,” he murmurs, eyes cast pointedly down and thumb brushing over the side of your right breast. 

“You mentioned.”

“I’m not allowed to say it again?” He teases, leaning down to kiss you soft. Your lips curve against his. 

“You can say it as many times as you want.”

Spencer hums, finally thumbing over your breast’s sensitive peak. It sends a chill down your back and seeing as you’re already worked up to the point of near insanity, the pleasure from such a simple touch is much stronger than it would be otherwise. 

“Good. Because I missed you a lot.”

After that, he doesn’t waste much time—only toying with your flesh for another minute as he kisses you before his hand is skimming down your abdomen and dipping below the waistband of your underwear. 

“Please,” you whisper, tilting your hips toward him when he doesn’t move to touch you anymore. 

“Please what?”

“Spencer, don’t.”

He smiles at this, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth as his hand travels lower. Fingers slip between wet folds and he begins making the lightest of circles over your clit. 

“You’ve probably been waiting long enough, huh? I should be nicer.”

Your answer is a breathy almost-whine as you seek more friction against his hand. 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, pressing down harder. The sensation sends sparks down to your toes and you attempt to clamp your legs shut around his wrist. “These need to stay open,” Spencer chuckles, “or else I can’t help you.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” The words are a sweet sing-song against your cheek as he kisses you there, before hooking his fingers into the fabric of your underwear and pulling down. You try to help wiggle out of them as best you can, gasping when he tosses them away and immediately returns his hand between your legs. He dips his head down, tongue lathing over your breast, and teases you with the tip of one finger circling around your entrance. 

“I need—”

“Shh. Let me worry about it.”

With that, he’s dipping his ring and middle fingers just barely inside of you to the first knuckle, then back out, before pushing a bit deeper, and repeating the cycle until they’re as far as they’ll go. When he slowly starts fucking you with them, still mouthing sweetly at your breast, you’re ready to melt. 

The room is quiet except for your breathy mewls, the lewd, wet sound of his fingers inside of you, and the blood rushing in your ears. Soon your breast pops from between his lips and he finds somewhere else to leave his mark. Spencer is turning you into a work of art, with his fingers, with his mouth. You don’t mind at all. You’d let him sign his name, if he could—but you doubt he’d let you get his name tattooed. 

Soon you stop fighting the perpetual tug of your lids down and let them flutter shut, loosing a freer moan as he brushes over that sweet spot inside you. Even when he’d told you how to find it over the phone, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like this—maddening enough to have your hips twisting again and that hot bed of coals in your tummy sparking. 

“Spencer,” you warn, leg twitching as he stokes the fire beyond the point where you can passively enjoy it. Either he’s got to slow down or he’s got to let you burn all the way up. You practically jump when you feel his tongue flick over your clit—you hadn’t even been aware of his shifting positions. Maybe you’re more out of it than you’d previously thought. Your eyes shoot open and he does it again. “Oh, fuck.”

The words are simple, quiet, and apparently that’s not enough. Before you can even process the sensation of the tip of his tongue on you he’s latching onto your clit, suckling in a way that has your vision momentarily going out. You cry out and kick involuntarily, hips jumping up, but he captures your leg and presses you down into the mattress so no matter how much you squirm and squeak you can’t get away. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, Spencer I wa—ah—sn’t ready—oh my god.”

He remembers his fingers deep inside you and begins rutting them and you hiss, inhaling sharply through your teeth before letting it all out in a tremulous moan. The orgasm is building up so quickly it almost feels like an attack on your poor body as you try to process it all to no avail. Every sound you make is a vulnerable mess of pleasure and pain, a clear fear of surrendering to something inevitable. Of course, it doesn’t really hurt at all. As usual, he’s blindsided you. Found you unprepared. You rake your fingers through Spencer’s hair, continuing on with your shaky moans that sound half-worried. 

“Oh, please.” Really, you’re just pleading to be put out of your misery. It’s in moments like this, as the black is creeping in around the edges of your vision and your thoughts become threads in the tangle of an existence knotting in on itself with no discernible end or beginning in your mind until everything is completely abstract, that you’re reminded why the French refer to orgasm as the little death.  

Your fingers lace tight enough in the wilds of his hair to pull, and he groans against you, and those vibrations are your undoing. You succumb to the dark momentarily but he continues a loving assault of gentle kisses to your clit—careful enough so as to be inoffensive even after the euphoria abates and you’re hypersensitive, still relishing soft strands of hair between your knuckles. 

You’re breathing hard as you blink your vision back, looking down at him as he looks up at you from his place between your legs and rubs the top of your thigh.

“I wasn’t ready,” you pant, lips flashing into a tired smile that doesn’t hold a candle to his own livelier one. 

“Took it like a champ.”

If you weren’t already so warm his sarcastic comment would inspire more heat in the apples of your cheeks. 

“Dr. Spencer Reid using sports idioms?” You smile as he climbs back up your body. 

“It’s unreasonably sexy that you said idiom and not simile.” He kisses you, grin mirroring yours, and you don’t complain about the slick still on his lips. “And look at that. Not afraid to kiss me when I taste like you anymore.”

“I remember what you said,” you whisper, eyes bouncing between his, glowing amber pools in the low light. The words echo in your head from the first time he’d gone down on you and you’d been hesitant to taste yourself. 

One day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.

“So do I,” he points out needlessly. “Eerily prophetic, hm?”

“I think you just like going down on me,” you laugh. 

Without the light on, his smile is just as brilliant as usual.  

“You might be right about that.”

Another interlude of quiet begins, but you don’t mind it. Taking this slow, as desperate as you’ve been for it, feels nice. Easy. Waves of burning need ebb and flow, but for now, it feels nice to be bathed in his candlelight gaze, know you’re loved, and nothing else. 

“What next?” You whisper after a long moment, lifting your hand to trace the line of his jaw. He leans into it slightly, lips brushing your palm. 

“That’s up to you, angel. What’s going to make you feel most comfortable?” 

Your bottom lip rolls between your teeth as you think and he tracks the movement, corner of his mouth twitching fondly. 

“It might help if you weren’t fully clothed.”

“I think we could probably do something about that.”

He pecks the tip of your nose playfully and then he’s pushing off the bed. Your brow wrinkles as you follow suit only partially, sitting up with your legs folded under you and pulling the sheets over your body to combat the chill and the vulnerability of being completely naked. 

“Oh, my god. You had your shoes on that whole time?”

“I got distracted,” Spencer defends, almost tripping over himself in his hurry to slip the loafers off. 

You clutch the sheet to your chest, watching the adorable way he pushes his hair out of his face as he rushes. He’s so clearly excited—it shows in the flush of his cheek and his even worse than usual coordination. 

“But on my bed?”

“I’m sorry,” he says without seeming very apologetic, leaning down to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger and pressing his lips to yours. “I’ll pay to have your comforter dry cleaned. I’ll buy you a new one. I don’t care.”

“How chivalrous.”

“I am,” he insists against your lips, shaped by what is surely a boyish smirk. 

Unsurprisingly, you get lost in the kiss, dropping the sheet to hang onto his shoulders. Spencer takes advantage of the once-more revealed skin, rubbing your thigh with slow passes in a way that has you all lit up again already. It doesn’t help that his tie is skimming right over the recess between your folded thighs as he leans over your seated form, kissing you deeper as the moments pass. 

“You’re distracting me now,” you scold, but your voice is quiet and smiley as your noses brush. 

“Do you want to help me with my clothes?”

You nod, heart hatching like a cocoon and already slipping a finger into the knot of his tie so you can tug perhaps not gently enough. He chuckles, bracing himself with his fists on either side of your lap as you pull and yank until the fabric comes loose and you slip it from around his neck, flinging it blindly for dramatic effect. Then he slowly draws back to his full height, until you’re about eye-level with his chest. His gaze fixes on you, feverish and intent as he finds the buckle of his belt without looking. The slide of leather on leather, the jingle of the metal has the hairs on the back of your neck rising and you fight a chill as he pins you with his stare—feeling rather powerless as he towers over you, still essentially fully clothed while you’re completely naked. 

You probably shouldn’t be as thrilled by it as you are. 

Spencer tosses the belt on the floor and watches on, utterly charmed as you rise to your knees. His hands find your waist, steadying you as you begin unbuttoning his shirt with slow, careful fingers. 

“See?” You murmur bashfully. “Helping.”

His voice is equally as soft. 

“Very helpful. Thank you.”

The tension in the quiet room gets to be too much and you have to focus hard on the task at hand, failing to bite back a twisty smile. For once, he keeps his stupid perfect mouth shut and lets you push the fabric of his open shirt from his shoulders in humid silence. 

Your fingers skate down his torso and you watch the muscles tense. You wonder if he notices the way he pulls you slightly closer or if it’s subconscious as you both track the path of your hands. 

“Your button is on the wrong side,” you note, voice wavering slightly, once your fingers stall at the waistband of his pants.

Spencer chuckles. You feel silly. 

“Men and women’s clothing tend to have the buttons on different sides, if that’s what you mean.”

“Oh.” A beat of silence, before the words come pouring out. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’m still a little bit nervous, I think.”

“That’s okay,” Spencer assures you, hands gliding up and down the soft lines of your waist. “It’s okay that you’re nervous. But I’m going to take really good care of you, okay?”

You nod, not looking away from the exposed skin of his torso. 

“And if at any point you need to take a break or stop, you’ll tell me.”

“I will, but… I don’t need to stop right now.”

“Then you can go as slow as you want.”

You swallow and take a moment to gather yourself before continuing on undoing his pants. With his assistance, you pull them down, and with them his boxers tug an inch or two lower, exposing a subtle v-shape before it disappears beneath the waistband. The fabric is obviously tented. A ball of nervous anticipation spins faster in your stomach, drawing all the heat in your body down between your legs. He’s pretty everywhere. You’d nearly forgotten. 

Spencer’s stomach tenses under your light touch as you drag your fingers down, down, just to the waistband. It’s then that you look up at him for permission to continue, and find his eyes already on you, heated and intense. 

“Go ahead, honey.”

Again you find yourself quite excited to touch him, but you start cautiously, simply letting your hand fall over the shape of him through the fabric. Even that has his chest rising and falling at a slightly quickened rate, and one of his hands finds your unoccupied one, twining them together. That small gesture inspires you to bolden your explorations, becoming more insistent in the way you palm at him. He feels big, which is a concern of yours. But you try not to let that intimidate you.  

Already he’s quite hard, you suspect from going down on you earlier (which is flattering as much as it embarrasses you) and your fingers graze a small wet patch of fabric. You fixate on the shaky little breath he releases as you push down his boxers with new fervor, and his cock springs up. 

He’s still perfect. 

You smear beads of precum down his tip, and he sighs, letting his head fall against yours as you both watch. A few coquettish pumps and he’s humming, kissing your face and dragging his lips down your neck where he makes a home for himself. Apparently the sight of your hand wrapped around him had been too much to bear. 

“So good. Missed this.”

“It’s just my hand,” you whisper, a little insecure that he’s maybe playing it up for your benefit. 

“It’s you.”

His voice is so breathy, you sort of have to believe him. 

“Can I…?”

Too nervous to voice what you really mean, you trail off, but it apparently doesn’t matter to Spencer. He lifts his head like he’s in a stupor but you’ve said something urgent. 

“Anything you want. You can do whatever you want.”

“Okay. Um…”

You let go of his hand (and his dick). Spencer automatically rotates to accommodate you as you end up on your knees on the wooden floor in front of him. 

“This is what you want?” He breathes, already pushing his fingers through your hair and gathering it back as you look up at him and nod. 

Very quickly you have him back in your hand, trying to remember what you learned from the few times you’ve done this. You start perhaps a bit softer, less eager to prove yourself than you have in the past—simply dragging him over your tongue before enveloping his tip in your mouth, and releasing with a pop. Despite being overtly, explicitly, and undeniably sexual, there’s something almost chaste about the way you handle him. It’s a (dirty) expression of love, and you think he understands that as he rubs at your cheek affectionately. 

Eventually, however, you get too excited, and you take him into your mouth in earnest, bobbing your head slowly and seeing how much of him you can take without gagging. 

Spencer makes the prettiest noises—they’re breathy, and not ostentatious, but he’s got such a nice speaking voice it’s like his gasps are bars in a song. You whine around him, wriggling your hips in a rather pathetic display, and then all too quickly he’s tugging your hair so you can’t keep him in your mouth. 

“What?” You ask, closer to pouting than you’d care to admit and voice slightly hoarse. “You said I could do anything I want.”

“Not if you’re that good at it. Come here.”

He helps you up and catches you in a deep, messy kiss before you’ve fully regained your footing, swaying against him, but he holds you fast, pulling away slow like strings of honey trail between your mouths. 

Spencer’s eyes are fixed on yours, lips parted in a sort of wonder before he glances down to your own mouth, wiping the shine from your bottom lip. Any moment you’re expecting him to say something, to tell you you’re beautiful or perfect or that he’s in love with you—but instead he just meets your eyes again, that same wonder-struck look on his pretty face. A tiny, breathy laugh forces itself from his chest like you’re a genuine miracle. 

You feel so observed—seen in a way you’ve never been seen, looked at closer than anyone has ever looked at you before. And he still looks at you like you’re the human embodiment of love, the closest mortal manifestation of the divine, Galatea come down from her marble pedestal. The way he looks at you has your heart pounding and your breathing hastened. Adoration has never been something so physical, so tangible, ever before in your life. Your blood hums at the frequency of his electromagnetic field—an energetic aura that surrounds each person and can be detected from several feet away, as he’d explained it to you. It originates from the heart and if you spend enough time close to  someone, syncs up the beating of your most vital organ with theirs until it’s a perfect match. Maybe that’s why, almost as quickly as your heart had begun to pound, it slows again, and you feel any reservation flush from your body like a fever. 

“Okay,” you breathe, cataloguing every angle and curve of his face to store with all the rest, all the moments that feel important. Of course, you’ll never remember them like he does yours. But you’ll be damned if you don’t try your hardest. 

“Okay?” Spencer asks. He understands the confirmation for what it is, and searches for signs of hesitation on your face while rubbing reassuring circles into your hip. You nod resolutely. 

As he lays you down on your bed, it feels like you’re entering some kind of altered state. Everything is muted and glowing with a watercolor aura in the dark and you really only care about the man on top of you and the way moonlight dances on his skin and the way he smells like smoky amber and rain. He makes sure the pillows are fluffed under you, before sweeping your hair from beneath your shoulders into a corona around your head. All the while his eyes are so soft on you, just like his hands, and his lips when he leans down to touch them to yours. 

One of said hands finds its way to your jaw, trailing down over your neck and collarbone, before settling over your breast where he swipes a thumb over your nipple, lightly, slowly, several times. 

Once again you’re struck with the odd feeling, even with his hand on you like this, that the situation isn’t sexual in the way you’d anticipated. It’s not pornographic, or even very dirty. Everything Spencer does, even as his hand sneaks down between your legs, he does because he loves you. 

“One more like this,” he mutters against your jaw after a moment. 

“Why?”

Your impatience yields a smile you can only feel against your skin. 

“Just want you relaxed and feeling good. That’s all.”

When you assent, his fingers are already slowly pushing inside you. 

It seems you’ve entered some sort of time warp as well, because you reach a gentle peak in what feels like record time, aided by his easy murmurings and saccharine praise.

“Perfect. That was perfect,” Spencer says with a kiss to your shoulder as he slides his fingers from you and you feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets. “Can I ask you something before we get carried away?”

“Mhm,” you hum, sweet and compliant as pleasure dulls your inhibitions for the second time tonight and your head lolls into the pillows. 

“Baby,” he croons, voice soft as worn paper as your lids flutter and lashes brush febrile cheeks, thumbing over the heated skin. “Need you a little more alert, sweet girl.”

“’M trying,” you whine, though it’s half self-effacing laugh. Spencer chuckles too as you shake your head and take a deep breath, trying to reinvigorate yourself. “Okay. Go.”

“Well… we don’t have any protection.” Before you can groan, loudly, he hurries on. “And that’s… I’m okay with that, if it’s what you still want. I trust you. But there will come… a moment of reckoning. And I need to know where I should… reckon. So you don’t end up surprised.”

Now you’re really laughing—a giggly mess beneath him as your arms loop over his shoulders. 

“Stop it,” he whines, pressing his nose to your cheek as you turn your head in an effort to not snort at your boyfriend to his face. “That was for your benefit, you know. You get squeamish.”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t take you seriously when you refer to it as reckoning.”

“Fine. I’ll rephrase. When I come, you essentially have two options. Inside, or on your stomach. Tell me where you want it.”

Your breath catches and your stomach does that tripping-over-itself thing again. 

“Um…”

Another fond half laugh, at your expense, is pressed against your skin. It’s enough to prompt you into answering—he doesn’t have to say anything to make his point about your being squeamish. 

“Inside,” you mutter, shy as you attempt to bring him closer so he won’t be able to look at you quite so closely. You wonder if he’s remembering the conversation you’d had over the phone last week—before he’d accidentally kind of broken up with you—about this very subject. You certainly are. 

“Okay. I want you to have everything that you want.” A few kisses to your neck later, between nips, he speaks again. “Just need to hear that you want this one more time.”

“I want this,” you repeat, obedient and honest, plain and simple. “Now, please.”

Spencer responds by first kissing you, firm and loving. It soothes you, and he punctuates it with a kiss to your cheek, before he’s reaching down and guiding himself between your legs. You feel surprisingly calm, more overcome with love and the light pleasure rolling down your back as he drags himself over your clit than you are by nerves. Still, you pointedly hold his gaze, not looking down in case you psych yourself out. He slots himself in place, tip resting against your entrance. 

“Remember, if you need to stop at any point—”

“I remember,” you cut him off hurriedly. 

Okay. So perhaps you’re still slightly nervous. 

He watches you, sympathetic though you’re not sure what for. 

“I need you as relaxed as possible, okay? I want this to be easy on you.”

You take a moment, scanning your whole body for tense muscles. When you feel sufficiently relaxed, you offer Spencer a small nod, and at that, he begins pushing into you ever so slightly. 

At first, it just feels foreign. He’s going so slowly, so carefully, you’re not sure he’s moving at all—until he finds resistance and the odd full feeling changes to a hint of burning stretch. Your hips jump and your breath catches, and Spencer stops immediately, relieving the pressure with a tiny shift in position. 

“It’s gonna hurt,” you realize, eyes darting between his like he might be able to tell you otherwise. You’d always been aware of the possibility, but you were holding out hope that you’d be one of those people who didn’t experience any pain their first time. 

“Just for a minute. Then it’ll feel good, angel.”

You swallow and nod. At the end of the day, you trust him completely. You trust him enough to let him hurt you. 

“Super deep breaths for me.”

He watches intently as you follow his directions, taking several deep breaths in succession, before he begins pushing into you once more. The pressure builds and builds until he pushes past that point of resistance, and it’s like he’s breaking you in two. 

“Ah,” you gasp, abs twisting as your body tries to escape the sensation without any input from you. 

“I know. I know, baby, that was the hardest part. Breathe.”

He drops his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles with light pressure to distract from the pain.

You nod, lips pressed together tight as the deep ache muddles your brain. It’s an insistent pressure against something does not seem to want to budge. It burns and stretches and is laced with sour, flirtatious pleasure so that you can hardly tell what it is you’re feeling. Mostly, you’re dizzy and hot.

“Relax, just like that,” he strains, looking down. “My good girl. We’re almost there, baby.”

Cries spill unbidden from your mouth and your eyes shut as he continues to open you up deeper, until finally, finally, his hips settle into the cradle of yours. 

Spencer sighs a curse under his breath, so quiet you don’t think it was meant for you. 

He’s inside of you. It’s bizarre. 

You whimper, and he snaps out of whatever revery he’d been in. 

“You okay? How does that feel?”

You take a shuddering breath, closing your eyes and trying to clear your head to no avail—your thoughts are like TV static. 

“I’m good. I need… I need a minute.”

“You can have as much time as you need. It’s a lot, huh?”

“Yeah,” you admit, voice small and weak. 

“I bet,” he agrees, peppering soft kisses all over your face. “But you’re doing so well. Proud of you, brave girl. You’re doing so well and we’re gonna make sure it feels good soon, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”

“Will you please kiss me again?” you whisper, and Spencer’s brow knits with concern. 

“Of course, angel. Of course I’ll kiss you,” he says, and makes good on his promise with his lips on yours. It sweetens the ache. “I’ll do whatever you want. You can have anything. You’re so perfect.”

He kisses you again, just as lovingly, and soft, like you’re delicate. All the praise is only contributing to your lightheadedness, but you don’t mind at all. It feels good. 

“You can… you can move.”

“Okay. We’ll go really slow, yeah?”

He waits for your nod before his hips are pulling back and you arch at the odd sensation. When he pushes back in, eyes carefully locked on yours the whole time, you keen slightly, frowning and brain shorting out as it tries and fails to process this new feeling. 

“Uh-huh. You’re okay, I promise.”

At first it doesn’t feel good. It mostly hurts. But slowly, the pain begins to abate as you acclimate to having him inside of you, and he’s careful the whole time. 

“Spence?” 

“Hm?”

He sounds concentrated on the task at hand—you’re entranced by the sight of him above you, the parted lips, the unkempt hair over the brow furrowed in pleasure and focus. But he’s never too busy for you. 

“Does it… um—” you pause to hold back a whine—“what does it feel like for you?”

At this, he slows even further and chuckles—it’s a strained, slightly breathy sound. 

“For me?”

“Mhm.”

“You feel perfect, baby. You feel so fucking good.”

The slight fry in Spencer’s voice as he curses, which is a rare event in and of itself, flips your stomach, turns you on immensely. The idea that you’re giving him pleasure too—it’s almost overwhelming. That’s when it starts feeling good. 

“Oh—” you squeak, jaw dropping and bucking your hips inadvertently as the first bolt of true pleasure shocks deep in your core. He hums. 

“Yeah, is that it, sweet girl?”

But you can’t answer for a long moment. Your brain is melting as your legs lock around him. 

“Mm—it’s—it feels…”

“I know it does,” Spencer murmurs.

You whine and press your face into the curve of his shoulder as each thrust gently rocks your body. As the pace picks up bit by bit, you feel yourself clenching hard around him. His hips stutter and he hisses. 

“Ah. Can’t do that, lovely.”

“What? Did I hurt you?”

He laughs breathily. 

“No, you didn’t hurt me. You almost pushed me out. You have to relax.”

“Sorry,” you whisper. “’M trying.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. I know you’re trying, baby, you’re being so good for me.”

Your nails skim his back—a small expression of a much larger desperation. Once he’s sure you’re relaxed around him, begins going faster. 

Your gasps and soft moans come more often now as he finds a steady rhythm and it feels so different when he’s actually fucking you. It feels like he’s everywhere. Every time your hips meet you feel the sweet shock of it in your teeth, your toes, the back of your neck. In the best way, you feel consumed by him. It’s not at all like you’d imagined, and it’s perfect. 

“Wait, Spencer,” you breathe, struggling to form the words. Immediately he stops again, lifting his head from your shoulder to examine your face. 

“What is it?”

He sounds just as wrecked as you feel, panting and strained and it feels good to hear. 

“I wanna watch.”

For a moment his eyes dart between yours like he’s trying to determine what you really mean—but you said exactly what you meant. Then he laughs, a huff of air from his nose as he presses his head to yours and gives you a quick kiss.

Your toes curl as he readjusts his position, holding himself a little higher and resting your heads together so you can both look between your bodies. 

“There,” he murmurs as he slowly begins to withdraw again. “Like that?”

But you can’t answer, because you’re too busy whimpering at the sight of him pushing into you. The feeling seems to increase tenfold as you watch it happen. Distantly you wonder how the fuck it fits. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Like that.”

Spencer takes this as a blessing to find a pace again, slower now as he seems to be just as enthralled by the sight as you are. 

“Give me your leg,” he rasps after a few moments like that, and you don’t know what he means exactly but you lift your right leg slightly only for him to press his hand to the back of your knee and push toward your chest, effectively opening you up and giving him more range of motion. It also enables him to fuck you even deeper. Again he slows, apparently savoring the feel of you yielding around him all the way down to the hilt. 

Black spots dance in your eyes as he settles at your deepest point—not pain, necessarily, just overwhelming sensation. Your jaw drops and you choke out a moan as he presses into recesses you didn’t know you had, as he shows you a part that you might have gone the rest of your life without knowing existed. He stops there, like that. Everything stops there, like that. If the cars on the road below ceased to drive, if the airplanes froze in the sky, you’d not be the least bit surprised. Somehow, you’ve unlocked a small eternity. There’s no sound but your joint heavy breathing and your heart pounding in your ears. The words just come bubbling up out of you in a little whine. 

“I love you.”

Spencer’s breath pauses for a moment before he’s letting it all out at once, brushing his lips up the ridge of your nose before they settle on your forehead in what seems like a permanent kiss. A few breaths in, you allow your eyes to flutter shut. Your heart rate slows down a touch, and you settle into the moment, never having been quite so content as you are like this—never having felt quite so adored and safe. 

“I love you,” he finally echoes, voice rasping, lips still pressed to your skin, still breathing against your hair. When he starts to move again, drawing back ever so slowly, you hiss softly. He raises his head from yours, and you look away from where he’s pulling out, meeting his eyes just in time for him to push back in, just as deep. They shine in the mostly-dark room and you moan unabashedly. It’s a high-pitched, sweet thing, nothing that will have the neighbors complaining—but so clearly true, from the depths of your soul, an expression of everything you’re feeling—not just the pleasure. 

Although that’s good, too, as Spencer shapes you to him again and again, the head of his cock kissing places nobody’s ever been and places you hope nobody else will ever venture to. This is all you need. Him. 

“Jesus,” Spencer groans, eyes fixed on your face as he fucks you slowly. But you can’t bring yourself to talk, too new to this kind of pleasure to find it anything other than mind-boggling and world altering. Your lips are still parted, allowing each sound to pass without filter. “Listen to you, beautiful.”

When he stops again, just to look down and marvel at you, you’re conflicted. On the one hand, you can taste the pleasure on the back of your tongue and he keeps taking it away when it’s so close. But on the other—you’re just as overwhelmed as he said you’d be. Your body has never had to process this kind of sensory information before, and you’re exhausted, but it’s so good. 

“Spencer,” you manage. He looks up, pupils blown and eyes lidded where they’d normally be wide. “Please don’t stop.”

He swallows, spurred into action again as soon as you say it. 

“Good?”

You nod and whine again as he picks up the pace bit by bit, remembering to push your leg back once more so he can get as deep as you need him. 

“So good,” you exhale at the top pitch of your voice. Your brows pinch and you release a fuller moan as Spencer finds a speed that’s fast enough to constantly feel good no matter where he is. You’re gasping for breath, back arching—and he finds a new angle, catching against the spot inside you that renders all those years of human evolution that gave you sentience and intelligence a waste. He chuckles airily at your series of series of affronted moans and halted gasps. 

“Right there? That's a good spot, isn’t it?”

“Oh, go—fuck, fuck!”

It feels so good it almost hurts, and your eyes are stinging to prove it. Your legs clamp tighter around him and you realize there’s a very lewd wet sound and you can’t believe that’s you. 

“Spencer, you’re—oh my god, I love you,” you whine, and it sounds like you’re pleading for your life. At this makes his own sound of pleasure, and hastens his messy circles on your clit as if in reward. 

But it’s too much all combined. 

Your hand claps to your mouth to obscure the loud, licentious moan that comes out—but Spencer immediately moves his hand from between your legs to grab your wrist and pin it gently to the bed, intertwining your fingers. 

“Don’t do that. Let me hear.”

You nod, and he lets go of your hand to return his fingers to your clit. If possible you get wetter around his cock—you can feel yourself gushing. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine as if pained. 

“Yeah? Gonna finally let me feel you cumming, angel?”

He has a filthy mouth when he wants to. The words hit like high voltage to your core and the very pit of your stomach. You can’t even respond beyond a desperate sob. 

“Show me, baby. I’m right here. Let go.”

You cum around his cock with a broken cry and it’s like a purge of every drop of angst you’d felt over the past week or so—hell, it’s a purge of all the insecurities that had bubbled to the surface since you started dating him. None of it matters anymore. How could it matter when you have him? When you have this?

The orgasm washes you out like a tidal wave, taking everything with it. It’s strong, and it’s so good, so intense, your body is overwrought with sensation and it’s too much even though it’s perfect. Your brain is drawing a blank as it tries to react to the feeling, and it’s like every button on the damn panel has been hit. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” Spencer grits, and you feel it in the way he adjusts his position, shifting as he grips at the edge of the mattress for leverage and the thrusts become messier, needier. You gasp as his other hand tangles in your hair, turning your head to ghost your lips over his forearm. It’s not entirely surprising when his own lips find your shoulder—but the feeling of him finding his release just as his teeth sink into your skin does come as quite a shock. It doesn’t hurt, and you’re sure there’s no skin broken, but it’s an undeniable fact that he has grounded himself in the throes of passion by biting down on you.

Inside you, he feels hot. Searing, almost, as his spend tries to fill space that doesn’t exist. There is absolutely no room for anything else inside of you. Stars dance in your eyes at the overstimulation, but long after he’s finished he’s still fucking into you—albeit much slower and with far less technique. Spencer moans like a two bit whore, like he’s reached pain to a point of ecstasy, and to you it’s as good, as special as the singing of the planets. If he’s as sensitive as you are now, it’s no small feat for him to keep going on like this. It’s a testament to how much he doesn’t want it to be over. The pleasure is carrying him away, but you’re beginning to feel how soft you must be and how if he continues on like this you may bruise like an overripe peach. 

“Spencer,” you manage, skating your hand up and down his back in what you hope are soothing lines. “Baby.”

He whines as his lips detach from your shoulder, but his hips finally slow to a stop, nestled inside you. 

“Jesus, fuck, I'm sorry,” he breathes, opting now to bury his face in your neck (with significantly less biting this time).

You’re still reeling, toes still curled, still struggling to breathe as your head spins and spins and spins. His chest pushes against yours with every heaving breath, hot and heavy on your skin, and that’s the only sign he’s still alive until his hand eventually reanimates in your hair, scratching your head tenderly. 

For a span of minutes, you stay like that—silent, twined together like caducean serpents. His weight on top of you is perfect. This, the lack of differentiation between your body and his, is perfect. You don’t know where he ends and you begin and you don’t need to. It’s a blissful moment. 

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice is hoarse when he finally speaks, lifting his head to look at you with flushed cheeks and messy hair and sparkly eyes. 

“Hi.”

He smiles. 

“You’re so pretty.”

“You too,” you murmur, moving your hand from his back and pressing your thumb into the hollow of his cheek. His eyes map the curves of your face as he pushes your surely askew hair back. 

“How do you feel?”

It takes you a moment to seriously consider his question, scanning your body for any undue pains, but for the moment, you find none, beyond a dull aching throb that you can manage. 

“Good. Tired.”

You wince at the uncomfortable feeling of him pulling out. Spencer hums sympathetically and presses a sticky kiss to your lips which makes it a little better, though you can’t ignore how uncomfortable all the previously pleasant wetness has become between your legs. 

“Here—stay here, I’ll get a wash cloth and—”

“It’s fine,” you insist, holding on even as he tries to roll off of you. “I just need… will you stay here for a little bit?”

“Of course,” he promises, now pressed close to your side and propped up on an elbow, “whatever you want.”

You lavish in his gaze, warm like a spotlight, as he strokes your cheek and plays with your hair. Very quickly you’re lulled into a doze, eyes fluttering shut. Minutes stretch. You feel drunk on waking dreams, and perfectly at peace. Safe. 

“Angel girl,” he christens you fondly. More than anything, it’s an observation, so lovely it sinks into your skin like a balm, soothing every tired muscle and little mark he’d made. Even half-asleep, it makes you smile. 

“You’re an angel,” you slur, reaching blindly for him, and he chuckles, catching your wrist and helpfully settling your hand on his cheek. 

“I thought you were asleep.”

You hum, “mm-mm,” looking up at him with just as much adoration as he has for you. Those cuddle hormones must be kicking in because soon you’re attempting to pull him back on top of you. He doesn’t quite comply, probably for fear of crushing you—rather he settles next to you, gathering you in his arms. 

Silence blankets the two of you, but it’s not unpleasant as you just watch each other with barely-there smiles curling your mouths. This kind of intimacy still manages to give you butterflies, even after everything else you’ve done. This kind of satisfaction, reverie in the sound of each other’s blood flowing and lungs filling. Setting aside words because you don’t need conversation as a pretense for wanting to be around each other anymore. You don’t need an excuse to look at him like this. You don’t need words any more than you need clothes. It’s enough to just be. 

“I love you,” he says, a soft reminder, and entirely redundant with the way he’d already been looking at you, touching you. 

“I know. I love you too.”

The smile flickers brighter on his face. 

“And thank you.”

Your eyes narrow minutely as you consider what he could possibly be thanking you for. 

“For what?”

“For loving me. And trusting me. It’s…” your heart squeezes as you realizes tears are pooling in his eyes. He takes a moment and clears his throat. It’s incredibly endearing. “It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”

You look down, thumbing at the sheets where you’ve hoisted them over your bodies. 

“You do realize how lame we are if we have sex and both immediately start crying, right?”

At this he laughs loudly but not loud enough to pop the little bubble you’re in, and you look up just in time to catch the brilliance of his smile, the way it changes his whole face and he becomes superhuman in his beauty, the lines that form by his eyes and the way they narrow and crystalline tears bead his lashes like precious gems. 

“Don’t cry,” he requests gently, hypocritically as your own eyes sting. The way his smile fades is like the sun setting. Gorgeous, like everything else he does. “You’ve cried so much, honey. Please don’t cry.”

You sniffle, gathering yourself. 

“I’m not. That would be pathetic.”

Spender leans forward to kiss you tenderly a few more times. Ordinarily you’d worry about coming across as clingy when you hold onto him so closely and so insistently like this, but for now you don’t care. Neither does he, it seems, as he seems unable to get you close enough. Eventually, you end up curled against him, head tucked under his chin and dozing on and off as he traces shapes into your skin. 

“What are you writing?” You mumble some time later, cheek smushed against his shoulder. He only responds with a soft hm, like he was lost deep in thought. You clarify, “it feels like you were writing something.”

“She Walks in Beauty.”

Your lips pull into a sleepy smile. 

“The Lord Byron poem?”

The first time you’d met Spencer, he’d inadvertently caused your painstakingly annotated copy of Lord Byron’s works to go flying all over a cafe, and then kindly helped clean up the pages and reorder them for you in record time. Among the poems had been She Walks in Beauty. 

“Yeah. I was trying to figure out when exactly I fell in love with you, and as someone who is deeply skeptical about love at first sight, I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I keep coming back to our first conversation. I mean, I believe in genetic compatibility, and how that contributes to attraction and what we think of as chemistry, but—”

“Wait, what about our first conversation did it?” Your cheeks ache from smiling as you speak. “As I recall I was being a bitch and I was covered in coffee.”

He laughs dreamily, still tracing letters over the small of your back. You wonder what part of the poem he’s at now. 

“Yeah, mean to me and covered in coffee is pretty much exactly my type. But I think it was actually the annotations on that copy of Lord Byron’s works. They were so insightful, and personal, I—it kind of took my breath away, and I know I shouldn’t have read them all but I couldn’t stop. You were compelling, and charming, and funny and wildly intelligent and beautiful and… and I didn’t stand a chance.”

Everything aches. It’s a good ache. Despite being seconds from tearing up all over again, you snort. He never told you about that first day.

“You thought me writing ‘sister fucker’ in all caps every time he mentioned Augusta was charming?”

“Oh, obscenely so. But now that I’m looking back, I feel like… I feel like I can’t remember not being in love with you. I mean, I remember when I realized I was, and that was later. But it was like I met you, and then I was just… waiting for you to catch up.”

You grab his hand and interlace your fingers, watching the way the ambient nighttime light from the window and the bathroom dips them half in color. 

“We were pretty much on the same page. I was debating courthouse versus small intimate ceremony as soon as you left.”

You watch him watching your joined hands, features soft and relaxed, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as he speaks. 

“Definitely small intimate ceremony. I have too many friends who would kill me if they weren’t invited to the wedding.”

You giggle and pretend the thought doesn’t give you butterflies. You imagine a ring on your finger, the one he’s got between his own. Marriage had never been something you’d considered. Not when you had no reason to. It seemed like something for other people. But maybe one day, it will be for you, too. 

“Did you know Lord Byron had a daughter who is regarded by many as the first computer programmer? She wrote the first algorithm for a theoretical machine that was so complex it couldn’t be built with the technology available at the time. It was called an Analytical Engine.”

He sounds almost wistful as he gives you the utterly unprompted, but still welcome, abridged version of her life. The description is ringing a bell—but you can’t quite place her, sleepy as you are.  

“What was her name?”

“Ada Lovelace. She was exceptionally gifted. The odds of parent and child being so extraordinary in their respective fields are incalculable, but from a purely theoretical perspective, negligible. I mean, they’re both massive historical figureheads. That’s extremely uncommon.”

You adore it when he goes off on these tangents—the passion that stains his voice, the ardor that grips him until he has no choice but to tell you exactly what’s got him so excited. You could listen to him talk for hours. It means he’s here with you, and he wants you to love what he loves. 

Since he met you, that’s all Spencer has wanted—for you to love what he loves. 

You want the same. 

“Pretty name,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. “Tell me more.” 

[meteorella]

Nerdgasmic Rhapsody

pairings: loser!dom!ellie x popular!sub!reader

cw: flufff!! ellie's an absolute cutie pie. cursing (obv), oral! (r receiving), tribbing (maybe?), nipple play, after caree!!, pet names: sweetheart, baby, princess, that's all i think!

wc: 511

a/n: (intentional lowercase!!!) first ever ficcc omg🥹 i have never ever in my life written a fanfic before so pleaseee don't judge and also feel free to point out some mistakes and stuff!! I take criticisms as i'm sure it'll help me a lot throughout my writing journey :))) can't promise I'll post consistently considering I'm insanely dumped with school works but I'll definitely find time to do so. anyways i hope u guys enjoy this one!! Feel free to hit me w some ideaaasss :3

after you had made it official with the biggest dork on campus—ellie—people would randomly come up to you in the hallways and tease you, not believing how sweet she actually is. after all of your previous relationships, ellie is the only one who genuinely cared for you. despite her shy and nerdy demeanor, she's really fun to hang out with. she'd continuously yap about space, the comic books she's read—savage starlight—and drop all of its lore to you. the whole fucking lore. although you hardly cared. she was too adorable. most of the time, you would find yourself just looking at her sparkling green eyes, topped by her matte, black glasses, her hand gestures, and the soft smile plastered on her lips while she speaks. she's even more beautiful up close. how could others not see that? whilst ellie can be a total cutie pie, you cant deny how fucking insane she can be in bed.

when eating you out, she'd flick her tongue out relentlessly on your leaking hole. firmly gripping on to your thighs, she already knows your next motive. "nuh-uh, sweetheart. keep them open for me." she shoots you a knowing glare before diving back into your drenched core, keeping eye contact all the while. her gaze roamed over your appearance, hair disheveled, eyes rolled back, and completely fucked out. "s-sorry, baby–fuck." you moaned as you clutched onto her dino-printed sheets. so fucking cute. after you'd climaxed for the 3rd time, she'd climb on top of you and slip her tongue down your throat, allowing you to taste yourself as she grinded her own throbbing cunt against yours. your soaking wet pussies rubbing, and creating the most delicious rhythm together. she absolutely loved your boobs. she adored how it just bounces up and down as she rolled her hips above you. she took your nipple in between her thumb and her index finger and pinched them, making you flinch at the feeling. her glasses were all fogged up and crooked, but she couldn't care less. she was too engrossed on drawing out more of those angelic sounds that slips past your lips as she pleases you. "doing s–so good f'me, princess... fuck–so hot." when you had both finally reached your peak, she'd lean down and gently clean up all your juices from between your thighs with her tongue.

she gives absolutely the best aftercare imaginable. the routine would start with cleaning you up with a wet towel, swiping it's soft material across your face, your breasts, your legs, your inner thighs—she had always taken care of you in the most tender and loving way. she loved hearing your soft, exhausted sighs of relief, as you watch her with a smile on your face all while savoring the chocolate she so graciously offered you. after ellie finishes cleaning you up, she would settle beside you, enveloping you in her arms as she wrapped them around your waist. her lips showering your neck with gentle kisses as she whispered heartfelt words of affection. "i'm going to marry you one day."

YAAALLLL OMG I HOPE THIS DIDN'T SUCK TOO HARD😣😣😣🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 i hope u guys enjoyed this one, i really enjoyed writing thisss!!

tags: @ellstronaut

dividers: @khaer @plutism

[hannieehaee]

raindrops (an angel cried)

18+ / mdi

summary: being assigned watching duties over humans was usually a task reserved for high level angels. on jeonghan's first week of promotion, he finds himself far too curious about licentious human activities, becoming infatuated with his assigned human. what happens when his interest goes too far, it gets him kicked out of heaven?

content: fallenangel!jeonghan, jeonghan is your guardian angel up until he gets kicked out of heaven oops, infatuation, inexperienced jeonghan, even as an angel he's still a menace to all, heaven is super strict, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of masturbation, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 11.1k

a/n: the lore on this is so nonsensical pls just work with me. i hope despite that u guys enjoy thoughhh<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Who is that?", asked Jeonghan, apprehension in his eyes.

"That's your human."

"My human? I'm getting a promotion?"

"Listen, Jeonghan. I had to call in a lot of favors to get the higher ups to let you get this promotion. You better follow the rules to the letter. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Kwannie, I know," he rolled his eyes, "Why do you have so little trust in me?"

"I'm serious, Jeonghan. If you keep messing up, you might get kicked out of heaven. Do you really want to be down there with the humans? Being a mortal?"

Jeonghan couldn't help but think the idea sounded enticing.

He hadn't had too much exposure to humans thus far, but he had always had great interest in them. They just sounded so free and different from one another, unlike in heaven, where specific behavior was to be expected from every working angel.

Within heaven, you were either born as an elite sort of angel, – with all their angelic duties assigned – or you were born human and then admitted into heaven as an angel, getting to enjoy eternal happiness with your loved ones. Jeonghan, sadly, was the former. Having been born into an angel position, it meant that although his life was not miserable by any means, it was just a closed box of responsibilities to fulfill until the end of eternity. He truly envied all the humans-turned-angels in heaven, often asking them about their memories as humans and trying to live vicariously through them.

Due to his constant curiosity of humans, Jeonghan often got in trouble as he stuck his nose in places it shouldn't be. As an angelic being, Jeonghan's duties as an angel were mostly clerical, managing which human each angel would be assigned to as a guardian angel. Ever since being born as an angelic entity, Jeonghan's dream had been to be promoted into a guardian angel position. In his current job, the most interaction with humans he ever got was the ability to see a quick overview of their timelines in order to assess which guardian angel would be the best fit for them. His job was comfortable and stable, never causing him any trouble. But he wanted more. He wanted to be down there, on the playing field as he watched over his own human.

So he would cheat occasionally, maybe snooping into human's lives for more than he was allowed to. Sometimes he'd pause on certain bits that drew a little curiosity and simply observe. He'd also on occasion tried to make his way down to Earth, only to check things out on his own. All his attempts were always met with reprimands from his higher ups, claiming that a soul as curious as his own should not be near humans. The existence of angels was meant to stay a myth, after all.

When Seungkwan took him into one of the offices designated for guardian angels, Jeonghan had been shocked. He had been banned from being brought here a few years back, so it was a very well appreciated change of pace for him. What was even more shocking, however, was when Seungkwan led him into one of the sphere rooms, which contained a view of any and every human in existence in real time. The most shocking thing, though? The pretty girl reflecting on the globe, very deep in slumber as Seungkwan revealed Jeonghan's promotion.

"Her old guardian angel retired. Chose to move to the land of humans-turned-angels. Angel Jihoon was simply going to ask you to assign her a new angel, but I put in a good word for you, so he gave you the job. Don't fuck it up, Jeonghan. Do you understand?", his friend was quite stern as he warned him.

"Big words for an angel."

"Don't go puritanical on me, Jeonghan. Your behavior in Heaven doesn't matter. It's when you meddle with humans that you'll get in trouble. Just ... Please follow the rules and don't step out of line."

Seungkwan was right. From all the accounts he heard from angels who had died and gone to heaven, Heaven and Earth were quite similar. People held jobs, lived a day to day life, had relationships. There were a few stark differences, though. There was no suffering in Heaven – no illness, no tiredness, no debilitating feelings. Sure, frustration and annoyance were a thing (God knew Jeonghan had felt those things), but it was virtually impossible to be truly unhappy in Heaven.

Jeonghan had no problem with Heaven, he was just far too curious about humans to stay still and do nothing. He was not allowed to admit it, but he had always wanted to know what it'd be like to be human. To live through pain, struggle, confusion. He just wanted to experience it all.

Angels had no needs in heaven. Hunger didn't exist, neither did aging or an itch to do or feel things humans usually engaged in. For instance, while Jeonghan had heard of sex and romantic relationships, this was something that angels did not have the innate desire to feel, as they were born fulfilled in every sense. Human-born angels, however, brought their humanly experiences and emotions along with them to heaven, sometimes telling tales of such things, always drawing Jeonghan's curiosity to new heights.

Looking at you through the sphere, Jeonghan felt excitement at thinking of what humanly emotions you may be feeling. He also felt giddy at knowing that you would one day come to pass onto his heavenly realm, where he would meet you after having known you for the entirety of your lifetime.

"Woah, really? You got a human now? Congrats, man," Joshua gave Jeonghan a bro-shake, clinking his wine glass with Jeonghan's in a celebratory manner .

Joshua was one of the few former humans that Jeonghan tended to hang out with on his down time. Despite having died of old age, he had been able to choose his 25 year old self to manifest himself as such on Heaven, conveniently matching Jeonghan's age range. He was also one of Jeonghan's main informants about what life on Earth had been like during his own time there.

"What are they like?"

"Not sure yet. I start tomorrow. She's a pretty thing, though," Han admitted, remembering how peaceful you looked in your sleep.

"Oh? Well, you gotta tell me everything about her when you start watching her. Man, I'm excited for you. You've been shooting for this since I met you."

"Yeah, sure, man. I'm kinda nervous. What if I fuck up? They'll throw me out of heaven," Jeonghan recalled Seungkwan's warning, also remembering every other reprimand reminding him of his punishment if he ever stepped out of line again. He wasn't sure what being kicked out entailed, as it wasn't a common occurrence in Heaven, but as much as he wanted to feign indifference, he did not want to leave his current lifestyle altogether.

"It'll be fine. As long as you don't try and meddle with her life, you'll be okay."

Yeah. Joshua was right. He just needed to follow the rules and nothing would go wrong.

Jeonghan's streak of good behavior did not last him too long on the job.

He couldn't help himself, not when you kept enticing him minute by minute of your day.

It wad almost as if you knew you were being watched, the way in which everything you did caught his undivided attention.

Guardian angels were not supposed to keep constant watch of their humans. This was just Jeonghan's personal choice, entirely fed by his curiosity of humans – and specially due to you. In usual terms, guardian angels would go through their regular lives, only ever checking in on their humans whenever their angelic senses felt a need to take a peek at their lives. Sometimes angels would end up checking in on their humans only once a month or so, never feeling the need to watch over every single moment. Other times, certain humans led lives that required a more watchful eye, causing their angel to keep better track of them. That was actually Jeonghan's previous job – assigning the right guardian angel to the right human, ensuring they'd get just the right attention from their angel.

Jeonghan's human did not require such close attention, but he just couldn't help himself. Within one day he was already enamored with you. And he only became more and more enamored as the days passed. He let go of all his other daily activities in favor of watching you, swooning over you. Although he still gave you your privacy whenever you did things such as go to the restroom or wash yourself, he was present at any other time.

He had actually made the mistake of staying present on what appeared to be one lonely night of yours.

As an angel, – a perfect being – Jeonghan clearly knew what you were doing. Contrary to popular belief back on Earth (at least by many of those who believed in Heaven), sex was not seen as a negative thing by the greater powers. Though such acts did not take place in Heaven too liberally, all angels were well versed on the carnal acts humans took part in. They just had no innate interest in such things. They could still engage in it, but it was just less common. This was yet another aspect of human life that guardian angels usually looked away from, seeing no need in guarding their humans during such an intimate setting.

Jeonghan always wondered how the physical act of sex manifested itself among angels. This was something that was entirely unspoken in Heaven. He knew angels could seek pleasure in such ways (he had done it to himself a few times, but wasn't well versed enough in it to truly find much pleasure in it), but since there was no innate desire for it, he guessed that most angels just didn't do it. If anything, it was more likely to be done by humans-turned-angels, since they had already done such acts in their previous lives. Jeonghan had meant to ask Joshua about this at some point, but he felt ashamed for some reason. He felt as if he'd be breaking a rule if he talked about it. This belief still did not prevent him from watching you play with yourself late at night, all while he laid on his own bed and attempted to play with himself in coordination.

As the days passed, Jeonghan could've sworn he fell in love with you. From your angelic appearance to your sense of humor, to your wit, (God, you were just his perfect match in every way), Jeonghan fell for you more and more each day. He came to wonder if becoming your guardian angel had actually been a punishment; to show him Heaven but not allow him to have it.

Luckily for him, he would soon find out.

~

"Let me go down there," he demanded after days of trying to get the heavenly council to give him the time of day.

The council consisted of a few of the highest regarded angels, along with a jury of angels that would rotate every so often. Luckily for Jeonghan, he saw some familiar faces within the jury on that day, with his buddies Jun and Seokmin taking part in it.

Currently, Jeonghan was directing his demands to head angels Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Minghao, who – with help from the jury – would decide whether his demand would be granted or not. He liked to think he had some pull with Seungcheol, but judging by the frown his face was adopting at the moment, he wasn't too sure anymore.

"Jeonghan ..."

"No, listen! Let me make my case."

Jihoon sighed, but gestured at Jeonghan to continue.

"You've been saying you'd send me down there as punishment for my behavior, but it wouldn't be punishment for me. I've watched humans for years," he winced at his own admission of guilt, knowing that only certain types of angels were meant to watch humans, and he wasn't one of them up until one week ago, "and I just know that I'd be an amazing guardian angel if you'd just let me go down there and see her."

Jeonghan had done all the math in his head. This would simply be a harmless experiment, causing no damage to anyone as he got a chance to live human life in the same way other angels had in their prior lives. Ultimately, he promised to cause no trouble on Earth and come back whenever the head angels decided.

These were all the arguments Jeonghan presented to the council, hoping that his selfish desire to meet you didn't somehow slip through the cracks.

The three angels huddled together after Jeonghan finished his long argument, surprising Jeonghan and all other angels present in the jury.

After a few moments, the three angels nodded at one another, seemingly coming to an agreement and turning to Jeonghan again.

"Fine. You may go," Minghao said decisively.

"W-what? Really?!"

"You're troublesome here on Heaven, I'm sure you'll somehow be worse on Earth," sighed Jihoon before continuing, "But, your arguments are valid. Heaven has been far too strict on working angels. Allowing you to experience what all other human-born angels have lived will cause no harm, and since you'd only be guarding your human, not much damage can be done."

"So I can go? I can be with my human?", he asked for confirmation, eyes still wide and mouth agape.

"Yes, Jeonghan. You may go. You will remain an angel as you stay with her, so you will have to learn to behave as a human. We will come to decide how long you get to stay, and whether or not you get to come back. I'm sure this will prove reasonable to you, with your curious nature," added Seungcheol, a small smile on his face at being able to grant Jeonghan's wish.

"Do you agree to these terms?", asked Minghao.

"Yes! I agree! Send me!"

"One last thing," interrupted Jihoon, "Only she can know your identity. We have assessed your human to be trustworthy enough for this experiment, but even this much is a risk. You must keep a low-key image while on Earth and not step out of line. Anything happens and we pull you back out. Understand?"

"Yes," Jeonghan nodded with all seriousness he could muster through his excitement and nerves, "I'll follow all rules. I promise."

"That's a first", chuckled Cheol before turning to the jury, "Any objections?"

Jeonghan looked to his friends in the jury with pleading eyes as they grinned at him and nodded in encouragement.

At receiving no objections, all three angels sounded their gavels, granting Jeonghan the wish to be a fallen angel, for however long they may wish.

Jeonghan's departure had been quick.

He bid his goodbyes to his closest of friends, promising to come back as soon as he could (though maybe that had been a lie – he wanted this to last as long as possible).

Despite his desire to leave and be with his human, he was still a bit sad he'd stay separated from his friends for a while. Time in Heaven passed quickly, but he would feel their absence all the more while on Earth.

The council had also granted him with the ability to rid himself of his wings whenever he wished. This way he'd be able to blend in with other humans in Earth.

Today was his last day here, which coincidentally was the exact same day the verdict had been ruled. He was happy to know the anticipation wouldn't last long.

"So, you fell in love with your human?", asked Seungkwan as he helped him make his appearance as humanly as possible.

"Maybe. Is that not a thing that happens to other angels?", he asked, knowing the answer already.

"No, Jeonghan. Angels don't feel romantic love for humans. I'm dating an angel, couldn't you just do that too?", he berated his friend, "Also, what did I tell you about following the rules?"

"Hey! I'm still on the job. I just might've done it a bit too well. And now, I get to meet her," he couldn't help but sigh in contentment at the thought of meeting you.

"What's so special about her?", asked Joshua, who was also there aiding Jeonghan in his makeover.

"Are you kidding? Joshua, you've been human. You've been in love. Hell, I was there when your partner finally arrived to Heaven. You know what it's like to fall in love."

"Hmm," he clicked his tongue, "I guess you're right. Still, I can't believe you're willing to leave Heaven for her."

Jeonghan couldn't really believe it yet either. He was so giddy about it, knowing just how perfect for him you were. Along with that giddiness, though, he felt nervous at the possibility of you not liking him as much as he did you. He expressed this concern to his friends.

"Are you serious? You're an angel. No matter if you try to hide it, which I know you won't, she'll know. I'm surprised they're even letting you go knowing she's 100% going to fall in love with you."

"Wait, really? What do you mean?"

Seungkwan sighed as if Jeonghan had just asked the most obvious question ever, "Dude, you're an angel. Angels have an alluring essence by nature. It won't take her long to see it and fall for you, specially since you're already interested in her yourself."

He had a point. And Jeonghan would likely do anything to get you to like him.

"Well, this is as human as I can get you to look, Jeonghan. You might just be too pretty for Earth. The women are gonna eat you alive," chuckled Joshua, stepping away from Jeonghan so he could look himself in the mirror.

They had trimmed Jeonghan's long locks ro shoulder-length hair, making him look a bit less ethereal (though his long, blonde hair still made him look angelic). Joshua had also styled Jeonghan in usual Earth fashion, ridding him of his white gown and putting him in some casual clothing.

Jeonghan liked it. And he had a feeling that you would too.

Holy fuck.

Jeonghan couldn't believe the sight in front of him.

It was you, in all your beautiful glory.

He had been transported directly onto your home, appearing in your room as he watched you sleep.

Luckily, you lived alone, which meant that he did not have to deal with anyone else's presence as he tried to figure out the best way in which to approach you.

When the council had transported him here, they gave him no advice on how to interact with you or even introduce himself into your life. They had left him to his own devices, so he was entirely unsure on what the best next steps should be.

Should he let you know he was an angel? Should he try to pretend to be human? There were no guidelines for how to do this; no Seungkwan to lead him in the right direction.

None of that mattered to him too much, though. He knew his internal instincts would lead him to the right

However, things didn't go as smoothly as he wished.

Despite knowing human customs, – they were mostly the same as that of angelic ones – Jeonghan admits to having been a bit of a creep in the way he first approached you.

Maybe caressing your cheek as you slept had not been the best of ideas, specially since you woke up almost immediately after, screaming at the sight of a stranger in your home.

Wingless and having the same appearance as any other human, Jeonghan stood like a deer in headlights, trying to calm you down and let you know he wasn't here to cause any harm, and that if you just let him explain, everything would make sense. Except he had no idea what that explanation could possibly be without taking the risk of freaking you out even more.

When you continued to freak out, locking yourself in your walk-in closet and yelling at him to get the hell out of your house, he decided to use some of his angel magic to get you to come to reason.

Teleporting himself into your walk-in closet, he held onto your arms as soon as he saw you lift them in fear at his sudden apparition, not understanding how in hell he had made it to the other side of the door while it was locked. He attempted to soothe you, which didn't work. So he went for the next best thing and covered your mouth with his hand in order to quiet you down.

He felt terrible at holding you hostage like this, but he just needed you to give him a chance to explain what was going on.

"I need you to listen to me, okay?"

"Hmph! Hmph-mhph!", you mumbled, words muffled by his hand.

"Please just tell me you'll let me explain. If you tell me to fuck off, I will, but just give me a chance."

He meant his words too. Even as infatuated as he was with you, he was willing to respect you if you found the situation too strange to deal with and asked him to get out of your life.

It took you a while, but eventually you visibly relaxed, nodding at him to take his hand off your mouth so you wouldn't feel as retained as you listened to what he had to say.

The two of you were sitting on the floor of your small closet, entirely too close to each other. But Jeonghan liked it. It allowed him to truly feel your presence for the first time. You were even more beautiful than he saw through that sphere. He hoped against all hope that you wouldn't be scared of what he was about to tell you.

"I'm your guardian angel," he started. It wasn't part of his original plan to tell you straight away, but looking at you, he knew he couldn't lie to you, "I know it might sound crazy, but I promise! I ... I was sent to Earth so I could watch over you. I, uh, I actually asked to be sent here. With you," he wasn't sure why he felt so embarrassed at revealing that. He was so sure of his feelings for you, but having you here in front of him made him lose some of his usual confidence.

You stared dumbly at him, eyes wide and confused. You didn't seem scared, but Jeonghan was also sure you probably thought he was insane. Then he remembered he could show you proof of his truth.

"Look, I'll show you, okay? Just, please, don't be scared," he hesitantly grabbed onto one of your hands, bringing it up to his own, surprised you allowed him to do so, "Promise me you won't run."

Seemingly thinking it over for a second, you nodded a moment later, intertwining your pinky with his own, "Okay."

Your voice while not taken over by fear was soft and alluring. Jeonghan couldn't wait to hear more of it.

Taking a deep breath before activating his wings, he grabbed onto both of your hands for support, closing his eyes as tight as possible as he allowed his wings to open up, creating a rip in the back of the shirt he was currently wearing.

As his wings opened up, the usual shine that came from them lit up the small space of the closet, tiny sparkles brightening up.

Hearing no reaction out of you, Jeonghan slowly opened up his eyes, scared that he'd find fear in your eyes.

But he didn't find fear.

Your eyes showed the opposite of what he was expecting. It was awe.

Unable to break eye contact with your eyes as you stared at him like he had put the stars on the sky, he moved closer, bringing up one hand to caress your cheek softly.

"Y-you're ... you're an angel?"

"Your angel," he clarified.

You disconnected from him, getting up and exiting the walk-in closet, making him deflate but continue to follow you.

You walked around your room in circles, seemingly trying to make sense of the situation in your head. After some moments, you halted your movements and turned to look to him, "Why are you here, if you're my guardian angel? Shouldn't you be in heaven?"

Although he had already kind of explained it, he guessed that maybe a more detailed explanation was necessary considering the strange circumstances he had put you in.

"I wanted to see you, see what being a human was like," he started, hoping you didn't find his statement strange, "I've only been your guardian angel for a short time, but you just brought out this curiosity in me that made me want to come down here more than ever. I know this might be too much all at once, but I just ... I just wanted to see you."

You looked affected by his words, maybe feeling for Jeonghan and his words. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, making yourself smaller while also protecting yourself from the strange situation. He hated that he made you nervous, but he understood. Still, he wanted to go back to a few moments ago when you were looking at him with awe in your eyes rather than confusion.

"You wanted to see me?", you parroted his statement.

He nodded, taking a tiny step towards you.

"Why?"

"I ... I don't know. I had no idea angels could fall for their humans in such a way. I think this might be unheard of," he chuckled humorlessly.

"So you're a fallen angel, then?" you joked, laughing awkwardly along with him.

"Hah, yeah."

Taking a seat at the edge of your bed, you patted the space next to you, inviting him to sit next to you. Putting his wings away to not get up in your space, he sat down, appreciating the gesture.

"I'll help you," you turned to him decisively.

"Huh?"

"If you wanna explore human life– if you want to explore your ... feelings for me, I'll help you."

"You will? Really?"

He was surprised at this, having expected fear or disgust out of you more than anything.

"Yeah. I mean, how often does a girl get to meet her guardian angel. And you seem harmless, so I don't see why not."

"Fuck," he breathed out, getting up, "Thank you, I .. Where do we start? Should we head out? Maybe–"

"Hold on," you put your hand on his chest to prevent him from walking away, "It's 3AM. I don't know if angels get any sleep, but I kinda need it ro function, so ..."

"Oh, right. Where should I sleep, then?"

"Angels sleep?"

"I can if I want to. And since I'm trying to assimilate to your people, I might as well."

"Okay. You can sleep, uh ... do you wanna share my bed?", you offered, pointing to where you'd just been sitting.

"You want to sleep with me?" he asked, a small smirk making its way to his face.

"God, I didn't know angels could even make innuendoes ... No, we'll just sleep next to each other, that's it," you clarified, rolling your eyes at the angel in jest.

"Fine, I guess we'll save the sleeping with me thing for later," he snickered at the groan you let out at him.

The two of you were already beginning to get along.

You began preparing an extra blanket for him, leaving the room for less than a minute, only to come back to him already laying in your bed.

"You ..."

"Oh, hey," he patted the space next to him, "C'mere. Need your human sleep, right?"

Bringing the blanket over with you, you used it for yourself, now that Jeonghan was using the one you'd been wrapped around in before he'd materialized into your apartment.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he mumbled sleepily.

"Goodnight ... Wait, what's your name, again?"

"Jeonghan. Yoon Jeonghan."

"Goodnight, Jeonghannie. Hope you enjoy your life as human," you bid him goodnight, quickly falling asleep after.

Jeonghannie ... Fuck, you were already beginning to get to him.

"Okay, there's gonna have to be some ground rules if you're gonna be leaving the apartment today."

It had been about an hour since you'd woken up, once again finding Jeonghan hovering above you as he watched you with endearment in his eyes as you slept.

The first thing you'd done was tell him that that was far too odd behavior to showcase around humans, to which he reassured you that he only felt like doing so to you.

After that, Jeonghan had insisted you let him accompany you everywhere you went, claiming that he could pretend to be a distant friend or something in order to get away with being with you while he explored human life. Reluctantly, you agreed, thinking it might've been too soon but reasoning that he had already come all this way just to be with you.

He nodded to your statement, enjoying your commanding tone as you listed out your rules.

"You cannot say any weird shit that gives away the fact that you're an angel,"

He nodded along.

"You have to stick by me at all times and never stray away from me."

He hummed, eyes attentive and on you.

You made eye contact for a quick second, gulping before looking away and continuing with your list.

"No meddling with my life or anyone else's with your weird angel powers, and no, I don't want to know what they are, just don't use them."

You continued to list more and more obvious things, most of which he had already heard from the angel council (and Seungkwan) before leaving Heaven. Still, he enjoyed listening to you, so he sat and stared at you with all his attention completely on you. Occasionally, you'd make eye contact with him, always looking away as if you'd been burned.

"And– and fuck, stop looking at me like that!"

He tilted his head to the side in confusion, "Like what?"

"You keep staring like I'm the angel, it's unnerving me!"

Chuckling, he nodded, "To me you are."

You sighed and ignored his flirting, continuing with your list.

"Are you willing to obey all these terms?", you asked once you had finished.

"I'll do anything you ask me. I'm here for you, after all."

It had only been a few hours since he met you, but he already enjoyed how you'd try to hide your flustered state any time he'd express his liking of you.

This was going to be fun.

~

As per what you told him, you did not have work today, which meant he could be with you the entirety of the day without getting in your way.

Due to this, today you were going to take Jeonghan out to a 'get-together' with some of your friends. He was looking forward to meeting the people he'd seen were part of your life. There were only a few characters he was curious about, not having watched over you long enough to figure out the nature of your relationships.

Vernon was one of the main characters he was interested in. He seemed to be just a friend, but considering human customs, Jeonghan couldn't be too sure.

When he asked you whether you'd be meeting him today, you were confused as to how he knew him for a moment, then remembering who he was and confirming that yes, Vernon would be present today.

Your morning routine proved to be quite interesting to Jeonghan. Unlike him, who could become dressed and presentable from his slumber with a snap of his fingers, you had multiple steps to take. He knew of the mundane human activities beforehand, of course, but seeing you partake in them in person was extremely intriguing to him.

The amount of needs you had was also quite interesting. From showering, to using the restroom, to eating, to even scratching your arm when it itched. Humans were truly complex and needy. Yet Jeonghan liked that. He ached for that. Being a perfect entity grew quite boring for him. He knew most people enjoyed it, but he wished for at least the chance to experience the mundane once.

This was the closest he would get, he guessed. And he still had no idea when the superior angels would pull him back up.

"Dude, what the fuck? Did you get a boyfriend?"

You slapped the boy's arm – Vernon's arm.

"Stop! We're just friends. I met him on twitter a few years back and he came to town, so, uh, yeah. This is Jeonghan, everyone."

Jeonghan currently found himself at an almost empty pub, standing in front of a booth filled with a few of your friends.

From Jeonghan's recollection, these were Vernon, – your best friend, as per your own words – Mingyu, Chan, Wonwoo, and Soonyoung.

Jesus, did you have to be friends with all men? And did they have to look almost as angelic as Jeonghan himself?

Despite Jeonghan's feelings of envy (an emotion he had not dealt with much in his existence), he was still glad to know that you had your own little group of friends here on Earth, just like he did in Heaven. Vernon was kind of like your Joshua, he assessed.

"Well, your friend's hot," Soonyoung broke the silence.

"Yeah, I know," you grumbled, taking a seat next to Mingyu. Before Jeonghan could complain about having no seat, you patted your side to gesture for him sit next to you, making him grin boyishly.

"So, Jeonghan. Tell us about yourself," Mingyu sipped his drink as he asked, "Oh! Chan, get him a drink, yeah?"

While Jeonghan tried to improvise some response, Chan handed him an open beer, seemingly expecting Jeonghan to drink it.

Grabbing the bottle, Jeonghan sipped it a bit, wincing at the rancid taste of it.

Is this what humans drank for leisure? Jesus.

"I'm Y/N's friend," he said blankly as a response.

Chan chuckled, "Yeah, but like, what do you do? How did you two meet?"

"Oh. I-"

"He's, uh, a social worker a few cities over," you interrupted.

This caught Wonwoo's attention, "Shit, really? I'm a social worker too. What do you do?"

"I watch over people, mostly."

That was half true.

"Nice. Anyways, work's boring, let's move on!", Soonyoung pushed even more drinks onto the table, "Tell us about your relationship with Y/N. Have you slept together?"

"Soonyoung!"

"It's a valid question! He's just your type."

"You've always liked them pretty," added Chan, nodding.

This peeked Jeonghan's curiosity, but it wasn't too surprising to him that your friends thought him to be your type. He had already caught you staring at him a few times through the past day.

"I didn't bring Jeonghan here so you could berate him about his sex life, okay? Stop," you took a frustrated swing of your drink afterwards.

The way in which your friends bantered with you made him think back to his friends in Heaven. But he pushed this sad thought aside to respond to the question.

Jeonghan took advantage of your mouth being busied by your drink to answer the inquiries about your friendship.

"We're just friends," he responded, "For now."

This caused a small commotion among the booth, making your friends throw childish 'ooo's at you.

Once again, you rolled your eyes and told everyone to shut up, lightly hitting Jeonghan's chest to reprimand him.

"So you brought your situationship to hang out? Doesn't that go against the rules of situationships?"

"He's not my-"

"I thought I was your situationship," whined Mingyu next to you, leaning his head against your own.

That caught Jeonghan off guard.

Although he didn't know what this word meant, he assumed it must've meant some sort of relationship. Maybe a relationship of sorts? Which meant that you and Mingyu must've had some sort of thing going.

This confused Jeonghan immensely. In the short time he had watched over you, he never once saw any evidence to show that you and Mingyu were anything more than friends. You'd usually see your friends once or twice a week, with Vernon being the only one you really saw on a daily basis. Did he miss something at some point? Had Mingyu been who you were thinking about that night he watched you masturbate? It must've been, if what Mingyu had just said was true.

"Your what?", he decided to ask, turning to you and ignoring all other eyes on him.

His eyes landed on Mingyu for a second, not liking the way he was so close to you. He hadn't minded it previously, but if the two of you really had something going on, then Jeonghan was going to have to break some rules and intervene.

Before Mingyu could respond (with that damned smile on his face ..), you interrupted.

"He's kidding. It's an inside joke. We accidentally went on a blind date together once so now Mingyu acts like he's my ex. He's an idiot, ignore him," you pushed Mingyu aside jokingly afterward, something which made Jeonghan smile.

"Okay. Good," he responded, going back to a relaxed stance despite the curious look a few of your friends were sending him.

The rest of the evening was spent like this, occasionally interrupted by Jeonghan's questions about human terminology that he did not understand (earning him multiple questioning looks from your friends at being so out of date), and frowning whenever there was any mere insinuation at you being anything more than platonic with any of your friends.

Overall, it went well. Jeonghan decided that he liked your friends (though he still wanted to keep an eye on Mingyu). It wad enjoyable to Jeonghan to watch human behavior first-hand, specially while he sat next to you, shoulder to shoulder as he occasionally allowed his eyes to quietly drift to you, admiring you while everyone else engaged with one another.

A few months had passed since Jeonghan arrived to Heaven, and Jeonghan was having the time of his life spending every waking moment with you. And he wad happy to say that it seemed like you were enjoying it just as much.

In order to show Jeonghan human life as much as possible, you had decided to work from home whenever possible, even using up a few of your sick days to take him out with you to explore your city and introduce him to as many fun human activities as you could.

When Jeonghan had informed you that he was unsure when he'd be pulled back to Heaven, you seemed genuinely upset, pouting at him that you were enjoying his company too much for him to get taken away. Your friends had also taken a liking to him, you confessed after a few more outings with them. He fit perfectly into your group.

Jeonghan had grown to become an integral part of your life. The two of you shared a bed every night, even waking up to partake in your skin care routines together every morning (a routine which Jeonghan did not need but simply copied for the immersion of it all). You were quite affectionate with one another too, always being called out by your friends on the unspoken nature of your relationship.

The two of you were practically twin souls as far as Jeonghan was concerned. You got along perfectly and existed in such harmony. Jeonghan couldn't help but grow to like you more and more as the days went by, constantly being told off by you for watching you so consistently. He had also caught you staring at him a few times, specially when you believed him to be asleep, but he decided to keep that to himself, simply enjoying the knowledge that you swooned over him as much as he did you.

Unfortunately, as the time passed, you seemed to run out of new experiences to show Jeonghan. You had taken him to work a few, allowing him to shadow you at your office. You had taken him on every single outing you could think of (most of which Jeonghan had come to find were usually considered to be romantic dates). You had shown Jeonghan mundane household activities, such as cleaning and cooking. You had also strictly prohibited his usage of his angelic powers, stating that they'd ruin the immersion you were trying to show him.

As you ran out of things to show him, he had one last thing plaguing his mind, but he wasn't too sure how to bring it up, or whether he should.

He could still think back to his time in Heaven, when he was first assigned to watch over you. It had been late into nighttime on Earth when he saw you, your lower half under the covers as you slowly removed your tank top.

He had been good, had decided to look away any time you undressed or needed some privacy, but your state had intrigued him. You looked desperate to undress yourself, quickly kicking off your covers and your bottoms along with them. As Jeonghan watched you in the nude for the first time, he salivated at the sight. He had seen all kinds of beautiful sights in Heaven, but you had been truly the most captivating of them all.

Jeonghan felt dirty, but he couldn't help but look as you began touching yourself, letting out the prettiest sounds he had ever heard. Your hands had gone to your breasts, tugging at your nippled with desperation as you whined. Jeonghan's own hands went to his pants, trying to calm a foreign feeling he had never felt before.

He had tried masturbating before, knowing that it was an act some angels also partook in, but he had never felt anything arouse him into doing it in the way you had. In Heaven, sex was really just a leisure activity, not usually caused by arousal. Angels had no necessities, so calming that ache was not something they ever had to deal with. This led Jeonghan into confusion, not understanding the effect you were having on him, though his desire caused him to ignore his confusion, instead continuing to palm himself as he followed your own rhythm.

After finding his high with you, he sat in the most satisfying post-orgasm glow he had ever felt. He had never experienced such a satisfying release, which made him become even more infatuated with you at the time.

This was the last time he had ever allowed himself to watch you as you got off, having felt like he was breaking a rule by doing so. Which he technically was, as angels were advised against intruding their humans' privacies to the extent in which Jeonghan had done.

And now the curiosity kept on itching at him. He wanted, no, needed to know what came after that, what such a carnal act would be like when done with someone else. In his time on Earth with you, he had already experienced arousal a few times. Waking up next to you was not something that really helped matters in that area, as he would be reminded of your beauty as you touched yourself every single morning you woke up pressed up against him.

You hadn't masturbated during his stay on Earth, or at least not as far as he knew. Jeonghan wondered if you felt as needy as he did, waking up tangled up together.

Then one day an answer to his question came along.

He had been watching you all morning, noting how pent up and easily alarmed you seemed. You had jumped back when he lightly nudged you in the kitchen while making breakfast, goosebumps forming on your skin. You had also looked away with a blush when he came out of the shower, only a towel hanging from his body. Even when he played with your hair as he usually did, you had shivered at his touch, avoiding his eyes.

All signs led to sensitivity. The same sensitivity he had felt any time he stared at you for a little too long, eyes shifting to the breasts he had once seen nude, or the lips that had released those pretty sounds that still played on repeat in his head.

So he went on a whim and threw all cares to the side, knowing that what he was about to do probably broke a thousand rules back in Heaven.

"Will you have sex with me?"

He couldn't blame you in your reaction, dropping the plastic bottle you'd been holding and having some of the liquid spill to the floor.

"What?!"

Getting up from his seat at the kitchen table, he walked over to where you were leaning against the counter, standing in front of you as he responded.

"You said you were running out of human activities to show me. You haven't shown me this," he said quite matter of factly.

"Y-yeah, but-"

"I see the way you look at me. You want me. And you know I want you," he lifted a hand to run a lone finger on your cheek, "don't you?"

"I ... I know you like me, Jeonghan, but you're my guardian angel, we can't. What if ..."

Moving his finger over to your lips, he shushed you.

"I'm in love with you. I know it may be far too soon for a human, but I've loved you since the moment Seungkwan assigned me to you."

"Who- who's Seungkwan?"

He chuckled, recalling that he hadn't told you too much about Heaven so far.

"He's my friend back in Heaven. I'll tell you more about him someday, okay, pretty?", his hand left your lips in favor of caressing your cheek, holding its round form against his palm as his thumb rubbed softly at it.

"Don't you wanna go back to your friends? What about when you have to leave me? What ... What will I do if I start feeling the same for you?", you asked sadly.

"I'll see them again, baby, don't worry. And I'll never leave you," he got closer, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned closer to you.

"But, Jeongha-"

"Shhh," this time it was his lips shushing you rather than his finger, "It's okay. You don't have to worry about anything. Just ... Show me. Teach me, yeah, angel?"

Closing the gap, he kissed you, soft and angelic as he did so.

You fell into the kiss quite quickly, using your own hands to play with his hair as your lips touched.

Jeonghan had never kissed anyone before. He could've at some point or another, but he had just never felt anything for any other angel before. The first time he ever experienced such feelings had been as he watched you through that sphere, thinking you the prettiest soul in all of existence.

He had thought of kissing you many times, but the actual act was better than any imagination he could conjure. You weren't shy in your desire for him, quickly taking control as your expert lips danced against his own. While he started off shy, he attempted to match your pace and expertise, licking at your tongue in the same way you did his own. Anything you did that got his eyes rolling back, he did in return, wanting you to experience the same sensations you were giving him.

"Hannie ...", you pulled away with a struggle as Jeonghan's lips attempted to follow your own, "Let me ... Let me take you to bed," you held onto his hand without waiting for a response, walking him to the room you'd been sharing these past months.

Jeonghan was surprised at whatever had taken over you after your kiss as you pushed him onto your bed upon walking into your room. He had no complaints, though, allowing himself to be maleable to everything you might to do him.

His desire took full control of his body as it worked against him, hips canting up towards your own with no finesse whatsoever, hands feeling up every inch of your body in an animalistic manner. For once in his life, Jeonghan was imperfect in his actions.

This proved to be no issue for you, though, as you moaned all the louder at his sheer desperation for you.

After making out for a good while, you disconnected once more, hands on his shoulders as you hovered over him.

"What do you wanna know, Hannie? What should I teach you?", you asked against his lips.

Without a response, his hips continued grinding up against your own, his hands aiding him as he pushed your hips down towards his crotch. He was fully out of it, his body taking a mind of its own. It was a bit embarrassing how clearly desperate he felt.

"Can I- Fuck, can I fuck you? I'll know what to do, I promise. Just wanna take care of you," he whispered back. And he was sure of it. He knew his body would show him what to do; how to take care of you as he discovered the pleasure your bodies could bring.

"Yes, Hannie. Anything you want."

So he flipped you over, laying you down beneath him as his hands slipped under your pajama top, feeling the soft skin underneath. Asking for permission before removing it, his hands lifted it up and threw it to the side, eyes never leaving your torso as you revealed yourself to him. He repeated this process with your sleeping shorts, leaving you fully nude apart from a pretty pair of white panties you were donning.

Just as expected, you were the prettiest sight he had ever beheld. Despite being an angel himself, he truly thought you to be the most angelic thing he would ever get to hold in his arms.

His hands touched and caressed every inch of bare skin, drawing goosebumps across every part of you he made contact with. Your soft gasps as he toyed with your nipples had him reeling. The pretty whines you let out when he wrapped his lips around your nipples and kitten licked at them sent him on a frenzy.

The more he touched, the crazier he felt. His hips had begun grinding down against your own the moment he got you under him, leading to a constant stream of pleasure as he explored your body with his hands and lips.

"You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen ..." he mumbled while his lips made their way up from your tits to your neck, nibbling at your skin every so often, "Came all the way from Heaven just for you, my pretty angel."

He could tell you were growing more and more desperate by the second, something which he understood. Unsure of how much longer he could take without feeling your bare skin against his own, he undressed himself and discarded your panties, groaning at the slickness that connected your panties to your cunt. Hovering over you once again, he couldn't help but feel sheepish at the way your eyes scanned every inch of his bare skin, practically salivating at the sight of him.

Your hands went up to toy with him, feeling him up in a similar fashion as he had done to you. His nipples were tweaked with, causing a high-pitched whine to leave him. Then your hands went to his aching cock, which was the final blow he needed before thoroughly losing his mind.

As much as he wanted to be the one in charge and the one to take care of you, you had him at the palm of your hand the moment you touched him.

"A-angel," he gasped as you began playing with his cock.

"Hannie ... Let me take care of you? I'll teach you everything, just ... Fuck, you're so pretty, Hannie. Such a pretty angel," you repositioned the two of you as you said this, hypnotizing him into following your directions as you toyed with him.

Once again, you were above him, leaning down for one last wet kiss before crawling your way down his body, resting on your knees before him.

Kissing up and down his thighs, you mumbled praises at him all throughout. Jeonghan felt weightless under you, like he was floating as you shamelessly expressed your lust for him. He truly thought he felt the most extreme ends of pleasure while you kissed and licked and sucked at his thighs, but he was fully unprepared for the moment your lips arrived to his cock.

Fuck.

In all his years in Heaven, he had never felt such bliss. Your warm lips wrapped around his cock as you took him deeper and deeper, bobbing your head as you suckled at him. His eyes rolled back and his back arched against the bed, whining endlessly at the feeling.

You worshiped him like a god, making him feel like the most powerful entity to ever exist. He was reaching heights he didn't know possible. How had he lived his entire life without ever feeling such lust? Specially when said lust was being rewarded by the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

"Angel ...", be breathed out, fingers wrapping around your hair, "Please .."

You gave him a nod in confirmation, not needing a verbal warning before he started grinding his hips against your mouth. He was mindful of the pace, allowing his body take control as he tried to reach his high.

Jeonghan kept at it for a while, slowly grinding his cock into the warm hole that your mouth offered him. He was entirely gone, not even aware of how desperate his movements were beginning to become.

"Are you gonna cum, Hannie?" you mumbled as you disconnected from him to catch some air, continuing your ministrations in the form of licking at the veins on the side of his cock.

He nodded in confirmation, eyes furrowed and unable to speak anything that wasn't a high pitched whine, "P-please, I ... Fuck, oh fuck- Yes! Keep- Fuck!"

Just as he attempted to respond to you, you put him back in your mouth without warning, suctioning as you hollowed your mouth and went as deep as you possibly could. Had he had time to process the act a bit better, he would've claimed you a minx for making him lose his mind so suddenly, but his pleasure completely overtook every other though.

Jeonghan whined and writhed on the bed, back arching into the perfect slope as his high reached its crescendo.

You only gave him a few seconds to recover before pulling him out of your mouth with a sweet kiss to weeping his tip, climbing up his body to fondle his tongue with yours. Despite his exhaustion and lack of breath, he couldn't deny any intimacy from you, so he kissed you with all he had. He kissed you with all the passion left in him, silently thanking you for the otherworldly pleasure you had given him.

"Need to fuck you," he whimpered against your lips. He could feel your dripping cunt lying directly atop his cock, mixing both your juices on the surface of his stomach.

You disconnected from him with a gasp, looking down and seeing his cock already hard again.

"You're already hard?", you looked puzzled as you asked.

"Yeah," he said as if it were the most obvious thing, "You literally made me discover the concept of lust, of course I'm hard."

You stuttered shyly at his statement, making him chuckle before you continued, "Do you not need time to recover? I-"

"Baby, I'm an angel. I don't need anything but your cunt wrapped around me," he spoke in words likely never spoken by an angel before.

Blushing again, you grumbled at him to shut up and did just so by kissing him again.

Jeonghan couldn't imagine not wanting you time and time again – even if he were a human. He was entirely certain that any man would defy human nature to harden for you over and over just to feel the pleasure your pretty body could give.

Luckily he didn't have to worry about that as you ground your bare cunt against his cock, reaching an angle that had you crying against his lips and him writhing under you, hands squeezing every curve he could reach.

"Gonna sit on you, okay, angel?", you whispered against his lips, licking at them as you pulled away.

You got up, positioning his cock against your cunt. His anticipation was at an all time high, entirely too desperate to feel the warm home that laid between your legs. But of course, before he could find his way home, you rubbed his tip against your cunt, making his head throw back in frustration.

His hands took action on their own, slapping your own away and positioning yourself so that you would finally sink down on him, giving him access to the greatest heaven of all.

There weren't enough words for Jeonghan to understand the myriad of sensations cruising through his body. His nerve endings were on fire, while his body writhed and arched uncontrollably. His body seemed to have a mind of its own, holding you against him as he canted his hips upwards at the most pleasurable rhythm his body could find.

The beautiful sight above him did not help matters.

Through your time together, Jeonghan had seen you in every state possible, having spent every waking moment by your side. Yet nothing could compare to you now. Your sweaty skin, shinning under the bedroom light as your tits bounced up and down. Your expression revealed one of utmost pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and eyes almost crossed in ecstasy. Jeonghan couldn't look away, despite how harsh of an effect your beautiful form had on him.

Jeonghan knew sex between angels was a thing. He knew it differed from human customs in many ways, yet he had never partaken in it. Not once had he ever felt lust or excitement at the thought of another angel. You had been the one to wake him up to this brand new realm of pleasure. You were the one bringing him to Nirvana with every touch.

And every sound too.

"H-Hannie ... So good, fuck. L-love your cock. It's so pretty 'n so fucking good ... It's all for me, right. Right, Hannie?", you breathed out between breaths of exhilaration, "My pretty cock, just for me."

He was yours. His existence orbited around you. Heart, body, mind, it was all for you.

Fuck, how could he ever go back to Heaven now?

There was no time to think about such things now; no time for any rational thinking as your hands came down to pull at his nipples, whimpering to him that your high was on the way, and that you needed him to get there with you.

"With you ... I'm gonna cum, just- fuck. Kiss me. Please ... Need you to kiss me-"

Moments later and his lips were trapped between yours, relishing on the feeling of your tongue dancing with his own. Your bodies were in perfect coordination, with the both of you receiving nothing but never ending pleasure.

Your high found you first, triggering his own as his hips went on a frenzy against yours, attempting to milk out every second of his orgasm.

The aftermath was two limp bodies lying against each other, eventually finding a way to cuddle and caress the other with all the love your souls allowed you to give.

Jeonghan laid there, the most content he had ever been. Your time together had proved to be the happiest of his life, but nothing compared to having such an intimate connection with the girl he knew was the love of his life – this one and the next.

Just as Jeonghan was about to verbally voice his feelings for you as he had done time and time again since meeting you, you interrupted him with your own confession.

"I love you," you said as you nuzzled yourself against his chest, "Please never leave me."

Your voice sounded sad, making Jeonghan frown before masking his worry with a smile, choosing instead to bask in your reciprocation of his feelings.

"I can never leave. I love you too much."

One more month passed like this, with nothing but bliss between you and Jeonghan.

By now, Jeonghan was an integral part of your life. Not only was he now close with all your friends, but he had been promoted to the role of your boyfriend, sticking his tongue out at Mingyu any time he'd joke about you replacing him.

The two of you slept together regularly, finessing the art of your physical love to an extent Jeonghan was sure was incomparable.

It had been a total of four months by now, and Jeonghan was nothing less than enamored with his current life. He missed his friends dearly, wishing he had some way to communicate all his happiness to them, maybe hear about their own happy happenings in Heaven. But this was a sadness he needed to push aside in favor of enjoying the unknown time he had left with you.

His doubts about Heaven did not last long, however.

One sleepless night, Jeonghan was distracted by a higher power calling to him. He was surprised at the feeling of sleeplessness, seeing as he did not need sleep as an angel. This was new.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Jeonghan followed the voice in his head, telling him to meet them in the living room. As carefully as he could, he detangled himself from you, heading to the living room in curiosity.

That's where his emotions truly took over.

Standing in your living room was none other than a beautiful angel donning the classic white gown – it was Boo Seungkwan, Jeonghan's best friend and confidant.

Without a single word, the friends held ran to each other, holding one another in a tight embrace. Their didn't need to verbalize how much they'd need each other, the hug said it all.

"Kwan, what are you doing here?", Jeonghan chuckled incredulously.

"The angel council is pissed at you man," he started, "You slept with your human, really? No, wait. You've been sleeping with your human!," he whisper-shouted, well aware that said human was in the other room sleeping.

There was no use in fabricating some type of ruse. Jeonghan was proud and honest about his feelings as he explained the happenings of the past few months, letting Seungkwan in on how hard and fast he had fallen for you, and how you had done so in return.

Surprisingly to Jeonghan, Seungkwan's reaction wasn't to reprimand him. Rather, he chuckled amusedly before responding.

"You know, we all expected it. We had a bet going to see how long it took you to officially get together."

"Y-you've been watching us?!"

"Hey! You're practically human now. Someone had to be watching over you. Not my fault Jihoon thought me the man for the job."

Jeonghan grumbled despite feeling glad at knowing his friend had had his back this whole time, never truly leaving him to be on his own.

"I'm here with news," the tone shifted, "I ... The council has given you an option."

Seungkwan paused for a moment before continuing.

"As the time passes away from Heaven, angels begin to lose their powers. They eventually regress to the state of humans," he explained, taking a breath, "If you ... If you choose to stay, you will become fully human within a year, and then you will age accordingly."

"I- I get to choose? That's a thing?"

"You're not the only fallen angel, Jeonghan," Seungkwan explained, "Jihoon was one once too."

"He ..? What?"

"The reason he never exiled you was because he wanted you to find your way here on your own. Like he once did. He, like you, fell in love with his human and descended. All angels have that option, they just need to want it. Most angels find happiness in Heaven alone, like me. But others need to live through all cycles of life to find their own bliss. I'm happy that you found your own."

Seungkwan chuckled at Jeonghan's wordlessness, a sight he probably had never seen before.

"The council sent me here to give you an ultimatum. You've blended here well. They want the choice to be yours."

Jeonghan couldn't believe his friend. He could stay and live out his life as human? With you? But then he remembered something.

"Wait. What about ... Will I ever see you guys again?"

Once again, Seungkwan chuckled at this.

"As long as you behave and live out your life dutifully, you'll end up in Heaven once more. This time with your human by your side."

That sounded like an awfully long time without seeing his friends. But it also meant a lifetime with you, followed by another one.

"Don't worry. I know you've gotten used to Earth, but time in Heaven passes so much quicker. In my time, you've only been gone for a week. I'll see you in a few months," Kwan assured his friend.

Even if he didn't express it while in Heaven, Jeonghan would miss all the people he loved. He was happy to know his absence wouldn't be felt, knowing that you'd also help him fill the hole he'd feel at missing his friends. Looking forward to reuniting with them would also help him not miss them too much.

Seungkwan watched him think with a smile, "I take it you've made your choice?"

He hesitated for a moment, but ultimately nodded, "Yeah," he breathed out, "I'll stay."

Seungkwan nodded back, "I'm happy for you, Han. I'll see you soon."

With one last hug signifying goodbye, Seungkwan made his exit, leaving his friend behind to his choice.

Feeling a bit solemn, Jeonghan made his way back to your room, tangling himself up in your sheets once more as he seeked your comfort.

His shuffling woke you up, making you flip to face him and inquire if anything was wrong. Your arms wrapped around his form sleepily, cuddling further into him.

"I'll stay," Jeonghan said, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?", you looked to him in confusion.

"The council got back to me. I can stay," he said with a smile in his voice.

There was immediate worry in your eyes, surprising Jeonghan, "Jeonghan, I- I know I wanted you to stay, but you can't. What about your friends? Your life?"

He chuckled silently, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek as he loved to do, "I'll see them again, angel, don't worry", he explained, "and next time I'll bring you along with me."

He decided to save the explanation for another time, currently too happy to function at the thought of the long life that awaited him. The thought of reuniting with his friends with you by his side also made its way into his mind, making his chest tighten with contentment.

a/n: in my little headcanon y/n, jeonghan and all their friends live long and fulfilling lives and end up in heaven with the rest of angel-svt<3

to read short 2.2k word continuation you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: established relationship, goes back and forth between jh's pov and reader's pov, jh wakes her up for sex, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), body worship, depraved!jeonghan, etc.

wc: 486 (teaser); 2291 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

After just a few more months of staying on Earth, Jeonghan had finally fully lost his angel powers, and with them, his essence as an angel also went away.

For any other angel, this would've been bad news, but Jeonghan was excited for this change. Okay, maybe he had been a little anxious about it, but after constant reassurance from Seungkwan and the council that he would get to come back to Heaven once he fulfilled his human life, he felt quite at ease. As one last goodbye, he had been allowed one last visit to Heaven, which he spent raving about you to all his friends. Apparently his months-long absence had only been a mere week in Heaven. This also reassured Jeonghan, now knowing that his friends wouldn't miss him too much while he was busy growing old with you.

And you were the best part of it all.

Your day to day remained quite similar. The two of you were a well established couple by now, which to Jeonghan meant that this was only the beginning of eternity with you.

However, even after being on Earth for quite a while, he was barely beginning to truly understand what being a human was like. He could now feel every human emotion to its fullest extent. He could feel pain, sorrow, anxiety. But, he could also feel all the positive emotions – happiness, excitement, and his favorite, horniness.

You had been his awakening to lust back when he first met you, but now emotions felt all the more intense. Without his angel powers, he felt everything to the extent every human would. He believed that his previous lust for you was the most invigorating it could possibly get, but he was swiftly proven wrong when his angel essence fully left him.

Jeonghan's discovery of lust (and sex in general) gave him the libido of a perverted man.

Every morning, you'd wake up with a huge boner pressed up against you. Not only that, but Jeonghan would purposely grind against you like a dog in heat, far too horny to hold back.

When Jeonghan began to feel these heightened human emotions, the two of you had agreed that it'd be okay if Jeonghan woke you up to take care of him. The sex with the angel was more than ethereal, so you saw no downside to it. However, you hadn't expected just how horny Jeonghan would be once his human form fully took over. You'd fuck every day, sometimes even twice a day.

Even now, after having fallen asleep immediately after riding Jeonghan to completion, the first thing you felt upon waking up was a hardness against your ass, bumping against you with a pathetic desperation.

You considered pretending to still be asleep, but ultimately decided that it'd be more fun to mess with Jeonghan a little. He was always so pretty when he got desperate for you, so what could really be the harm in it?

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[lovegasmic]

hiii this is my first time requesting something so sorry if i’m doing it wrong but… i had this rlly delicious vision of bf!sukuna teaching inexperienced!reader how to ride by using his fingers then a dildo just to make sure she’s nice and ready for him <3

 NICE N’ WET

⋆ mdni. fem!reader, no pronouns used but lots of praising like princess, good girl, sweetheart, beautiful. no prfread.

 ⋆ nonie ilysm this was so yummy, hope I made your idea justice 🙇‍♀️🩷

honestly, to Sukuna there’s nothing more enticing than the cute way you squirm and hiccup, nails digging into his chest while you sloppily bounce on his fingers, sticky slick dripping down his wrist and onto the bedsheets.

it’s not the first time you’ve had sex, of course not, but your encounters are mostly missionary or doggy with your boyfriend doing most of the work, but under his own words, you just had to “stay still and look pretty” all while he stuffed your cunt with his ridiculously big cock.

this time though, he was up for a change, although the idea of you being so messy and weakly whining how your thighs ached was most unexpected but definitely welcoming. big hand tugging his cock in sync with your whines while the other laid spread in bed, two fingers up, knuckle deep in your slippery walls, “so fucking sexy, princess, you’re doing great” the smirk is present, eyes lingering on your cute body and tits jolting.

“S’kuna... u-uh, please...” it comes out as a weak pleading, slightly losing balance at a sharp crooking of Sukuna’s fingers inside of you, forcing you to lean in and dig your nails on his pecks, “can’t..!”

a deep chuckle is what you get in return, “yes you can, angel, you’re soaked already from just my fingers, no wonder you’re always so wet when I fuck you, you’re a pretty little desperate thing, huh?” meanly teasing your broken whines and shake of your head, he can’t help and tease you, you’re way too cute with eyes glossed over, eager to please or perhaps, just have your man fuck you at least.

“think you’re ready for something bigger?” your boyfriend smirks, pulling his fingers out of your cunt with a lewd sticky sound and equal slurping as he cleans his fingers from your essence, so fuckin’ sweet.

much against his good will, the hand around his cock drifts to your waist upon your needy beg for more. he then moves, positioning himself between your thighs and retrieving the dildo you got for the occasion, “raise your hips” he mutters hoarsely.

a soft whimper comes out of you for the nth time, ignoring the ache in the inner side of your thighs as you obey your boyfriend’s command, “a-ah, fuck” you mewl, involuntarily grinding against the toy now placed under your hips, that wetly smacked ok your clit thanks to Sukuna’s grip on it, keeping it steady for your pussy to take.

“spread your legs wider” he mutters, slightly serious but mostly concerned for your comfort, swallowing thickly at the sight of your cunt swallowing the toy, “good girl, use your knees, don’t put so much pressure on your thighs” he adds, and suddenly, his mouth goes dry at the sensation of your folds against his fist where he’s still gripping onto the toy, begrudgingly pulling his hand away and wrapping the slick coated palm around his own cock, much thicker than the dildo.

“feels good?” Sukuna asks breathlessly, not really liking the fact that you’re moaning so wantonly over a piece of silicone when his cock was right there, drooling precum just for you and your slutty sounds, but he’ll accept it this once, until you get the grip of it and take the initiative at riding him silly.

“mhm! it’s deep—” you croak, Sukuna’s hand on your hip gently helps you up and down while the other —while away from his length— pushed your thighs open, fixing your heated body into a more comfortable position, and from where he laid, face in front of your sloppy cunt, he could see and hear the way your folds gripped on the toy, making his own mouth water at the prospect of having you do that to him.

“fuck, yeah? keep talking, sweetheart”

breathless grunts, moans and wet papping were heard in the room, mingling with each other in a lewd dance, “fills me so good” you continue through the symphony, “i can feel it in my stomach”

“you’re killing me” your boyfriend grunts in return, hand speeding over his cock, not really having the patience to continue watching you get fucked stupid on the toy, so with a sudden movement you’re now straddling him, ignoring the whine of protest at the same time Sukuna guides his cockhead along your slit, collecting slick with gritted teeth as not to slam you down and force his way inside your hot pussy.

his tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip, smirk back to his face while taking in the sight of your shaky body, perked nipples and drooling hole, “come on, beautiful, show me what you’ve learnt”

[rosyblooom]

I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️

when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others

charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️

view all 3,958 comments

username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍

username all time favourite wag ! 🥰

yourusername ❤️❤️

(liked by author)

username ly girl🫶

username oh she won😩

username **they. they're both literally perfect omg username nah u right my bad🫡

scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳

username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him

username real

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others

yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂

view all 2,483 comments

yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️

yourusername love u so much🥹

username queen🫶

username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌

username that's bc 27 IS young lol

charles_leclerc belle👸

yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧

username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername

yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌

iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗

yourusername my girl 🤍

Three weeks later...

tmz_tv

liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others

tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.

In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.

During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.

views all 18,045 comments

username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes

username a literal ray of sunshine🥹

username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶

username this doesn't feel real...

username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛

username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(

username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔

username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕

username sending prayers to the family 🙏

scuderiaferrari

liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others

scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.

This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.

Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️

comments have been disabled

8 months later...

Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.

If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.

As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.

A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.

Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.

Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.

He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.

The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.

Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.

“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”

Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”

Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”

“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.

“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”

Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.

“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.

“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”

“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”

“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.

"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."

Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."

Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."

Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”

Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.

“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”

Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.

Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.

“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.

Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”

“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”

Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”

Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”

The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.

A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.

“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.

Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.

“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.

Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.

“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”

“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”

He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”

“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 14,296 others

f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.

Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.

We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.

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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves

username right?? so respectful🫶

username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready

username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲

username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭

username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕

username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls

username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!

username 😭😭😭

4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44

[propertyofwicked]

FIX THAT ATTITUDE - LN

warnings: smut !! MDNI !! semi public sex, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), withholding orgasms, overstim, light choking, unprotected sex, implied aftercare

3.4k words (sorry i had a LOT to say) (not proof read)

masterlist

thank u for 1k!! lemme know if u want more fluff/smut content in the comments - my inbox is also open for requests! <3

“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?” lando whispered harshly in her ear, his hands resting on her hips as he stood behind her. to anyone looking at them, the exchange looked nothing more than a romantic moment between the young couple, but y/n knew better.

she had barely seen him for 3 weeks, with him travelling for races, and then training and meetings when he was home, her behaviour was a cry for help.

she’d tried everything. brushing past his crotch when she walked past him, bending over in front of her vanity to apply her lipstick, even hiking her dress up dangerously high when she sat in the passenger seat of his car, dragging her fingers up his veiny arms when his hand came to rest on her thigh. but still, he didn’t react, he simply smiled at her like she was an angel, softly stroking the top of her thigh without even a second glance in her direction.

she didn’t want to be treated like an angel, she didn’t want soft. she wanted to be fucked from every angle, covered in their sweat. she wanted him to use her until she was sore, legs shaking, clawing at his bare skin for anything to ground her in reality.

so, y/n got to work. complimenting oscar on his suit, smiling a little much and for a little too long at any man that approached her, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers throughout entire conversations, all whilst ignoring lando, only acknowledging him when she wanted another drink.

he wasn’t stupid, he caught on quickly, but he let her continue. she’d get what she wanted, but he wanted her to work for it. he was jealous, sure, but he trusted her to not take it too far, and god did he find it amusing watching her try so hard to provoke a reaction from him.

“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?”

the unwavering grip on her hip, sure to leave bruises - even through the layers of her dress - lando’s glares and tensed jaw. was she scared? no. was this exactly the reaction she was hoping for? well, she hadn’t worn that short black dress that dropped a little too low on her chest for lando to simply open the door for her and hold her hand like a gentleman. she wanted him, and she wanted him bad. she was desperate for any ounce of his attention.

“i’d love to see you try,” she whispered in response, tilting her head back to rest on his shoulder, so her words could only be heard by him, her back arching as she did. he pulled her waist in roughly, rolling his hips into her slightly.

“you think anyone here could have you writhing underneath them like i do? you think they could make you feel so good you forget your own name? i’d love to see them try,” he added, sending shivers down her spine and straight to the base of her stomach. he said no more, instead, he moved to stand beside her, taking her hand in his and guiding them to sit in a nearby booth. oscar sat opposite them, glancing up in concern at the red flush rising on y/n’s face.

“y/n? you good?” he asked.

“she doesn’t feel too good,” lando answered for her, his hand resting on her thigh, “combination of a long day and too much socialising, i think,” he adds, his eyebrows raising at her when he mentioned socialising.

“you know me,” she interjects, taking the chance to speak for herself, “social situations without a drink in my hand don’t mix.”

the men chuckled lightly at her response, before discussing an upcoming meeting that oscar had forgotten about, all the while, lando’s fingers toyed with the base of her dress, pushing the material further and further up her legs. she was thankful that the large table and dim lighting hid the way her hips rolled into his hand as his fingers came to stroke over the lace of her underwear. he pulled his hand away quickly, moving to grab his drink as she whimpered quietly at the loss of contact.

“you ok, angel?” lando asked her, feigning innocence, as he held the back of his hand up to her forehead, “y/n, you’re burning up,” he added, biting back a smirk.

“there’s an outside area, through that door there,” oscar told them, pointing to his left, “get some fresh air, it might help.”

“thanks, mate,” lando said, pulling the girl up to stand, her hands tugging her dress back down as he did, “ill see you later, yeah?”

the boys nodded a quick bye at each other as the couple walked in the direction of the door, the fresh air engulfing the two of them as the door closed behind them.

“you need to learn to behave yourself,” lando started, glancing around at the empty patio before pushing her roughly against a nearby wall, “whimpering like that when i barely touched you.”

“im sorry,” she replied, kissing his jaw lightly.

“you’re sorry? no, you wanted this. acting up all night like a desperate little whore,” he spat, before pressing a harsh kiss to her lips, his tongue moving into her mouth as their teeth clashed slightly from the force. the kiss was messy and heated, one hand resting on her jaw, the other on her waist as his rolled his hips into hers. she moaned into his mouth, tugging lightly at his curls as he pulled her leg up, his hardening bulge grazing her lace panties, exposed as her dressed rolled further up her thighs.

“not here,” he groaned in her ear, pulling back and letting her leg drop for her to stand.

“you didn’t care before,” she retorted, her hands grabbing at his jaw to kiss him again, “playing with me in front of oscar like that.”

“not risking someone walking out and seeing what’s mine,” he said again, grabbing her hand before walking around to the valet. y/n trailed behind him, taking large steps in a bid to keep up with his pace with only his arm to leverage the distance he put between them.

the car ride was tense, the silence heavy as she waited for lando to do something, anything. instead, both hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. the anticipation had her clit pulsing, blood running hard and fast through her body as she sought for any friction to relieve her. y/n wriggled in her seat, repositioning herself over and over again with no such luck.

“is my pretty girl so desperate she can’t even sit still?” lando taunted, glancing to his side to watch as she sat fully upright, shoes abandoned in the footwell. she brought one leg up on the seat, her head resting on her knee as her free hand moved over the grab his from the steering wheel.

“please, lan,” she begged, guiding his hand to rest on her thigh.

“we’re almost there,” he countered, yet his hand still gripped at the flesh of her thigh, releasing only to stroke his fingers along the skin, closer to her heat.

“just do something, please lan. i’ll do anything you want, just need you now please,” she said, pleading with him again. his fingers grazed her panties finally, pulling the fabric to the side as his fingers slid through her folds softly, coating his fingertips in the wetness she’d built up throughout the evening.

“so desperate, so wet for me,” he said, rubbing small circles into her clit as he patronised her, “couldn’t just behave for one night could you? just had to try and rile me up to get your way, huh?”

“just missed you is all,” she panted out, head rolling back as he pinched at her clit, she was getting close, “wanted you all night, just you.”

“too late for you to act cute, y/n,” he warned, “you wanted this. you’ll get what you want, you just need to be taught a lesson.”

he pulled his hand away, resting it on the back of her head rest as he turned to reverse into the parking spot. she whimpered at the loss of contact, having her climax snatched away from her, her sounds sending blood rushing back to his cock.

this was a game they played, he was never truly mad at her, he knew her bids to make him jealous were just that - bids. he’d do anything to see her smile, anything to be close to her, anything to show his gratitude for every little thing she does for him. if she wanted it rough, she’d get it rough. if she wanted gentle, he’d be gentle.

and right now, she wanted him between her legs.

lando pushed her down on their bed, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her heat closer to him. he pulls at the sides of her panties, toying with the fabric before slowly pulling them down her legs when she moans at him to hurry up. she’s resting on her forearms, staring down at him as he rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up, her hair falling down her back as she rolls her hips up, desperate for him.

“patience, angel. taking my time with you,” he says, breaking the silence. he wraps an arm around her leg, pulling it over his shoulder as he rests his forearm over her stomach, stopping her wriggling. his finger returns to her folds, still slick from earlier, as he pushes a digit inside her, feeling the stretch around him. he pumps into her a few times, before adding a second finger, twisting them into her, feeling the way her walls contracted around them.

“more, please,” she moaned out. he simply chuckled at her.

he ignored her, fingers never faltering as he curled them up in her, hitting a spot that had her struggling to arch her back as he pinned her down into the mattress. he moved his head closer to her heat, dropping it to the side to rest on her leg, lightly kissing at her inner thigh and nipping at the skin. his eyes flittering from looking into hers before moving back to watch as his fingers disappeared inside her. she tightened around him, her breathing heavier as she got closer to finishing.

lando retracted his fingers, pushing her leg from his shoulder as he stood to look down at her.

“what the fuck?” she stated as her orgasm slipped away from her for the second time this evening.

“i told you. good girls get to cum. whores get taught a lesson,” he replied, hovering over her as he pushed the same two fingers into her mouth. she whined at him, muffled as her tongue ran along them, tasting herself.

he moved back, eyes dropping to her chest as he pulled her dress down. he stopped at her breasts, thankful for the lack of bra, as the tight material pushed the flesh upwards, her nipples hardening as he leant down to blow softly on them. one hand propped himself up, the other moved to grasp at the flesh, squeezing it roughly. his head dropped, taking her other nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around them, teeth nipping at the surrounding skin. he dropped his grip on her other breast, fingers moving to tug at her, her back arching, chest rising into his touch.

“love these,” lando groaned, pulling away to look down at her again. her hair fanned around her head, chest rising and falling with hesitant breaths. he dropped to his knees again, face to face with her heat. with no warning, his face dove into her folds, licking a stripe from her hole, nose nudging at her clit.

“taste so good,” he mumbled, though he doubted she heard him, as he moved back to circle his tongue around her clit. his hands pawed at her thigh again, gripping the flesh as she pulled her legs up, wrapping them over his shoulders. lando’s free hand reached up, gripping her breast again, fingers flicking at her nipple. he could hear her moaning out his name, almost like a chant, his trousers growing unbearably tight.

“lan- fuck, so good.”

he groaned in response, sending vibrations through her heat. her legs tightened around his head, desperate for more, trying to hold on to her orgasm.

“im gonn-”

“hold it.” he said, slapping at her thigh lightly.

“i can-” she started, words halted as her climax washed over her. she tried to hold it, but the overstimulation from the previous assaults took over, pushing her to her finish, legs tightening further around his head as her hips rolled up. his nose brushing her clit again as she rode out her high, using his face.

when she caught her breath, her legs relaxed. lando crawled up her body, his crotch pressing against her heat as he did. he held back a moan.

“i told you to hold it,” he said, hand coming to squeeze lightly at the base of her throat.

“i know, im sorry, i tried, im sorry,” she rambled, panting in between each statement.

“i know you tried,” he cooed at her, mocking, as her hands came to undo the buttons of his shirt, pushing the material away from him. his sat back on his knees, taking the shirt off and launching it across the room as she sat back up, resting on her forearms.

she glanced down at his crotch, noticing the way his bulge strained against his suit trousers, the pressure enough that the zip was starting to roll down by itself. y/n’s hand reached out, palming him through the material before fiddling to unzip them fully, tugging the button out from the loop.

“let me make it up to you,” she begged, eyes blown wide as she stared up into his. he nearly folded at the sight, a groan getting caught in the back of his throat. he didn’t respond, he simply leaned forward, laying her back down on the bed as he pressed a heated kiss to her lips, his tongue grazing her bottom lip before pulling back to press kisses along her jaw, his hand returning to squeeze the base of her neck, harder this time.

“not tonight,” he groaned in her ear, rolling his hips over hers slightly.

lando tried to keep up the poker face but she pouted at him, turning her face, as her eyes questioned him. his head dropped to her neck again, sucking lightly at the skin.

“if i even think about you with my cock rammed down your throat, ill cum - and i’d quite like to feel that tight pussy around my dick,” he laughed softly, as did she, her smile sending warmth spreading through his stomach.

her legs raised around his back rolling the two over so that she straddled his waist, his hips jutting upwards at the weight of her sat on his clothed cock. he wriggled the two of them up the bed, so that he sat upright against the headboard, his trousers shuffling down in the processes, his boxers soon after.

his cock sprang up, hitting his stomach. y/n isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard. hell, lando isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard.

her hand moved to him, thumb running over his tip spreading pre cum down his shaft, his sensitivity causing him to momentarily forget who was supposed to be in charge. lando’s hands moved to grab hers, pulling them up to rest on his shoulders, before dropping them back to her waist to raise her hips up above his cock.

“you cum when i say you can,” he stated, eyes staring directly into hers, her eyelids fluttering from exhaustion. she nodded at him. his free hand lined his tip at her entrance, running it through her folds a few times to use her slick to prepare himself. she began lowering her hips, assuming she was taking the lead. however, when she had taken only half of his shaft, his hands gripped her hips, pushing her roughly down, filling her completely.

“fuck,” she whined, as he continued to pull at her hips, the two of them working together to maintain the pace he set as she slid up and back down his cock. his moans filled the room, his head rolling back slightly at the feeling of her tight walls clamping around him every time he bottomed out. one of her hands gripped the headboard, the other playing with the curls at the back of his head as he leant back forwards to take her nipple in his mouth, a free hand helping to grip at her flesh.

“lan, fuck. too big,” y/n whimpered again, as his hips moved to thrust up into her, taking back control of the situation.

“too big?” he laughed, “never complained before,” he added before pressing a kiss on her jaw.

his hand moved back up to her neck, finger stroking the small bruises forming on her skin.

“you think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he asked, his grip around her neck tightening, her eyes shutting at the overwhelming pleasure racking her whole body.

“eyes open,” he told her, and she pried her eyes open to stare into his. her pupils were blown, and he imagined his looked the same, noises escaped her open mouth, no longer able to form words.

“good girl, taking me so well,” he praised her, noticing the way her body began to slump, her walls tightening around his cock as he continued his brutal thrusts into her, “who else could make you feel this good?” he asked her, but she simply whimpered in response, words caught in the back of her throat.

his hand left her neck, slapping softly as her cheek as her eyes closed again.

“who else?” he asked again, tone harsh.

“no one,” she stuttered, “only you.”

“good girl. you gonna come for me?”

she nodded desperately, no longer sure if she was asking him or telling him.

“can you hold it for a little longer?” he asked, eyes looking softly into hers despite the intensity of the pace he set, “wanna come with you.”

“please, lan. i need t-”

“i know,” he leveraged with her, “im almost there baby,” he added, fingers dropping to toy with her overstimulated clit, her body arching forwards so that her head rested on his shoulder, arms tightly wrapping around his back.

she felt his thrusts falter, his pace slowing as his jutted up into her inconsistently.

“that’s it, baby. come with me, come for me.”

she felt herself let go, waves of climax washing over her again as her entire body shook around him. the walls of her heat, tightening and relaxing as she finished, the feeling pulling lando to his own finishes, each contraction milking his cock as ropes of cum shot into her.

the couple fell silent, lando remained inside of her as she curled into him further, both panting, trying to catch their breaths.

“fuck me that was -” she started, unable to find the words to finish her sentence. she didn’t need to though, he knew what she wanted to say as he hummed in agreement. he rolled the two over, pulling slowly out of her as her face scrunched up from the sting. he looked between the two of them, looking at the mixture of both climaxes coating his own shaft and the top of her thighs, leaking onto her dress slightly.

“you wanna shower?” he asked her, resuming domestic conversation between the two.

“i don’t think i can walk,” she said, smiling, as she rolled onto her back and throwing her arms to either side of her body. she was a sight to behold, fucked out, hair messy and the dress they never took off sat scrunched up around her stomach leaving her mostly exposed. he laughed at the sight, not in jest, but admiration for the woman before him.

“come on,” lando said softly, moving round to her side of the bed, “let’s get you cleaned up and into some clean clothes.”

[toruro]

— ✧ back to december

a part of flower me with love ... an hhu unit x flowers collection !

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), fluff, angst (resolved!), best friends to strangers to lovers

description: it's been four months and twenty-two days since you've last talked to mingyu, however your mother still thinks you two are friends. you don't have the heart to tell her what really happened, and now you think it's time for you to move on. (un?)fortunately for you though, mingyu seems to have other plans.

inspired by back to december by taylor swift!

tags: miscommunication, unrequited love (not fr though), big dick mingyu, sex in a car >_<, riding, fingering, pet names (angel, pretty), creampie :3

w/c: 4.3k

a/n: happy birthday @gyuswhore!!! this fic is for em but if not em and ur reading it i hope u enjoy too. this is like 2/3 plot and 1/3 smut if anyone cares

Normality is bliss.

That’s what you used to tell yourself. That’s what you used to believe.

Normality was bright mornings, crisp air, slow walking down the main street, inhaling the ambrosial scent of freshly roasted coffee beans, and slipping under the fairy lights that hang over the door. It was the warm sound of the overhead bell ringing, permeating laughter in the cafe from all customers, and daisies in a pot by the entrance.

Normality was Mingyu. His bright laugh as you approach the counter, sweet voice as he playfully asks you what drink you’d like, to which you roll your eyes and respond with, “You already know, don’t you?” It was the chuckle he would let out, the wink he flashed at you, murmuring the words, “It’s on the house” (because with Mingyu, it was always on the house), the thanks you give him before stepping back.

Normality was the latte he handed you, rough yet ginger fingers brushing over your palm as he warned you, “Careful, it’s hot,” and the giggle you let out when you stepped back and asked how his morning was going. It was Mingyu telling you nothing special happened yet. It was Mingyu suggesting that you two hang out at the field after he’s done with work. It was you grinning and agreeing in an instant, but only under the condition that he picks you up after your class.

Normality was bliss until four months and twenty-two days ago.

Now, normality hurts like a bitch.

Your mother glances at you from the corner of her vision as you rummage through the fridge. “What’re you looking for?”

“Some bread,” you murmur. “Was really craving a tomato sandwich … Damn, we’re seriously out of white bread?” you ask, giving up with a sigh as you close the door and face her.

She shrugs. “If it’s not in the fridge then I guess so. We’re low on produce too actually … I’d be surprised if you find tomatoes in there too,” she says. You purse your lip, shuffling through the different rows of cabinets to find something to throw together to take for lunch as your mother continues to speak. “You think you could stop by the grocery store after class today and pick up some stuff?”

“Yeah sure,” you reply casually.

“Ah, I wish Mingyu still stopped by with the groceries,” your mother says, and the sudden mention of his name has you halting your movements as you reach for a croissant, before you inhale deeply and go back to doing your own thing.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, clearing your throat after the word comes out horsley.

“You know why he stopped doing that?”

You try not to think about how you still haven’t told your mother that you and Mingyu don’t talk anymore.

“Uhh, I guess uni’s been getting to be a lot of work,” you tell her. “We’re both taking way harder classes so, uh, I guess he doesn’t have the time.”

“Hmm, yeah makes sense. You’re always swamped up in that room of yours ‘cause of work too … haven’t seen you two hang out in a while actually.”

You chew on your lip, staring down at your little bag for lunch and the croissant that sits inside. You wonder if you’ll even have the appetite to eat anything today after this conversation.

“We’re just busy. It’s harder to talk now.” It’s not entirely a lie. Grabbing the bag and picking up your backpack, you turn to face your mother who’s scrolling on her phone. “I’m gonna go now. My first class is starting soon.”

Now, normality is huffing as you get into your car, wishing you had a coffee next to you, but being too full of cowardice to head over to the cafe.

(“Go to a different cafe!” is what common sense would tell you, but common sense doesn’t listen to a love that has been betrayed. No other latte tastes the same, but you know that’s only because no other latte has been made by Mingyu.)

You pick up groceries on the way home.

Now, normality is staring at the daisies that are on display as you walk through the front doors of the store and reminiscing. It’s wondering what once was, and what could have been, if you decided to keep your silly feelings to yourself.

Normality is regretting. Regretting ever opening your mouth and telling Mingyu four months and twenty-two days ago that you loved him, and that you had loved him for not one, not two, not five, but ten damn years, because that was when you two met, and you always loved Kim Mingyu, but you should have known that not once did he love you back. Not how you would’ve wanted anyways.

Normality is wondering. Wondering if Mingyu would still be dropping off groceries if you hadn’t told him that you loved him, if he hadn’t told you he didn’t know what to tell you. Wondering if he thinks of you now. Wondering if he has any regrets. Wondering if he’s okay, but you lost the chance to know the answer to that question four months and twenty-two days ago. Wondering if—

Tomatoes. You need to buy the tomatoes, and the bread, some green beans, spinach, bell pepper, and more cheese, milk, maybe some butter, and—what was it that your mother told you to get? Oh, some strawberries.

You need to get all of these things, but there were no daisies on the list, so how did a bouquet full of them end up in your cart? You tell yourself you picked them up because they’re on sale, but you know the real reason is because you miss Mingyu.

Directing your attention back to the list you were sent on your phone, you hum lowly to yourself as you push your cart through the aisles. Checking items off your notes app, you exist with just yourself, your tomatoes, and fresh daisies as you try and finish these groceries before it gets too late into the evening.

Staring at your screen, you almost don’t notice that the dairy aisle isn’t empty until you bump into someone. “Sorry,” you mutter quickly, “I—” The words get caught in your throat when you see just exactly who you’ve hit.

Averting your gaze quickly, you wonder if Mingyu will respond, but you choose to scurry away quickly instead, because as cowardly as it sounds, you’re not sure if you’re ready to hear his voice again.

You’re not sure why your heart beats so fast when you escape into another aisle. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t read the look on his face for the brief second that your eyes met.

(Ten years of being best friends and you somehow don’t know what he’s thinking. Can four months and twenty-two days really change a person that much? Or did you never know Kim Mingyu in the first place?)

When you get home, your mother asks you where you got the daisies from. You tell her Mingyu gave them to you, because you want to convince her that you two are still best friends, and maybe—just maybe—you’re trying to convince yourself of it too.

You decide to buy a latte five days later. Mingyu never worked the evening shifts, so you’re confident you’ll get one of the other’s as the barista if you walk in past 6pm. Seokmin’s always nice. He doesn’t make the latte’s as sweet as you like—more specifically, as sweet as Mingyu made them—but he’s kind and always cheery.

When you walk in today, the pot by the door is empty. There are no more daisies, and you wonder if this is what has become of normality.

Your eyes glaze over the familiar setting, breathing in the sweet, rusty smell of coffee, and you smile watching all the cafe-goers laugh along with each other in their seats. All is going well, and you’re telling yourself that maybe this new normal isn’t too bad. That you’ve lived with it for four months and twenty-seven days, and so you can live with it longer and—

Your heart plummets when you see who's working the register today.

Maybe you really never knew Kim Mingyu, because you swore he hated the evening shifts, but here he is with a neatly tied apron, smiling while he talks to some girl across the counter. And his toothy grin is so bright and you aren’t sure if you’re seeing things correctly because everything sound has turned to a white rush in your ears and your vision blurs because you are once again awarded the painful reminder that you are in love with Kim Mingyu.

You thought your heart broke right in two back in December, but you hear it crack in this moment and realize that this was the final blow.

There are tears in your eyes, and you don’t know how long you stand there, until you hear your name. Seokmin is calling for you, and when you look up there’s no girl at the counter and it’s just Mingyu and Seokmin staring at you.

And you wonder briefly if you should be glad that Mingyu looks concerned but you don’t have time to dwell on the fact because Seokmin calls for you again—“Hey, are you okay? You—you’re crying”—and fuck, you’ve just humiliated yourself, so with fat tears hitting the dark wood ground you turn on your heel and rush out the door.

You keep thinking and wondering and regretting and you hate it all because regret has become normality, but regret is not a bliss.

You walk down the street, and you keep walking and walking and walking until you realize you forgot where you parked the car but none of that matters because all you’re thinking about is Mingyu’s smile, and how he doesn’t smile at you anymore. And so you walk faster and cry a bit harder until you’re so far down the street you don’t even know where you are anymore but it doesn’t matter because you don’t know who you’ve become.

And there’s footsteps thudding behind you—are you going to get kidnapped now? Fuck, you’ve already had the most horrendous sequence of events that could possibly happen to you in the span of five minutes, and now it’s going to get worse? If this goddamn kidnapper could just target you any other day, then maybe you wouldn’t whip around with tearful eyes, shouting into the dark: “Please don’t kidnap me! I’ll go with you any other day but—Mingyu!?”

His tall figure is hunched over, hands over his thighs as he heaves for breath, craning his neck to look up at you. “Kidnap you? Why in the world would I kidnap you?” he asks through harsh breaths. “Fuck, you walk so fast,” he groans, finally standing up as you furiously wipe your tears away in an attempt to actually make sense of this situation.

“I—” You want to reply, but then it hits you that this is the first time Mingyu has spoken to you in four months and twenty-seven days, and the thought is dizzying. “I don’t know,” you tell him, because you really don’t know. You don’t know a damn thing.

Mingyu looks at you with a look that you, once again, can’t seem to read. “Sorry, I—I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, and anyone would be able to see through the lie but you’re hoping that Mingyu doesn’t pry any further. He doesn’t move, nor does he say anything. “You can, uh, go back now,” you add, rubbing the back of your neck as you stare at the ground. “I’m okay.”

“You—you were crying.”

Opening your mouth to protest, you realize you can’t refute him now. Not when it was so painfully obvious. You choose silence instead, hoping that your apprehension will be enough to drive him away, although it only seems to egg Mingyu on.

You don’t expect the words he blurts out after a few moments of thickness.

“You don’t know how much I wish I could go back to December and change things.”

“Please don’t lie to me Mingyu,” you tell him, and he can just hear from the way you say his name that you are desperately pleading with him. When you finally look up at him with glossy eyes, he wonders how in the world he let things get this far.

“I’m not lying, I—I wouldn’t lie about this.”

“What do you mean by this, Mingyu? What is this?” You cover your face and begin to sob, but not without gasping out words between heavy breaths. “Please don’t do this to me, not again.”

And when you uncover your face and look at him again, he’s got some bewildered look on his face, and you can’t tell what he’s going to say next.

“The girl,” Mingyu starts to say. “That’s my cousin. She was visiting me at work and—”

“It’s not about the girl, Mingyu!” And that’s a bit of a lie because some part of it is about the girl but it’s mainly about you and it’s mainly about Mingyu—mainly about the two of you.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and speaks. “Sorry, I—you’re right.”

Silence once more, before you calm your breaths and shake your head. “You should head back, Mingyu.”

“No I—wait, I just—I’m not lying. I regret everything I did in December.”

“Ming—”

“No, please listen to me. I regret not telling you how I actually felt, but I was so confused,” he tells you, repeating your name. “I was confused and fucking terrified because if things didn’t work out for some reason, then I would’ve lost my best friend but—but I was fucking stupid and lost you anyways. And you know, I wanted to reach out. I wanted to talk to you so bad but then like last week, when I saw you in the grocery store, and—daisies.”

“Daisies?” You furrow your brows.

“Daisies. You had a bouquet of them in your cart,” Mingyu tells you, taking a step forward. “And I know how much you love daisies. Your favorite flowers in the world. I saw them in your cart and thought to myself, fuck, I missed my chance, because I thought you had them for someone else and—”

“They weren’t,” you blurt out. “I-I even told my mom you got me them,” you add bashfully, “because she doesn’t know we stopped … yeah.”

There’s a silence that sits between you two, but you’re starting to realize that silence has become normality and you are no longer content with that.

“Mingyu, do you love me?”

He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “More than you love daisies.”

You laugh through your drying tears. You laugh so hard it makes you cry no longer because of pain but because of happiness, and you shake your head and throw your arms around him. “Kim Mingyu, that is a bold statement.”

“What can I say?” he grins. “I’m a bold man.”

“Where was that bold man for the past four months and twenty-seven days?” you snort.

Mingyu raises a brow. “You’ve been counting?” For a moment your expression falls but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry—I’ve been too.”

You two are quick to head back, Mingyu begging Seokmin to hold the first alone for the weekend before taking the wheel of your car and driving you both to your favorite field of daisies.

“Are we going to have sex for the first time in your car?” Mingyu asks with a chuckle, climbing into the backseat from one end while you pile in from the other.

Giggling, you meet his lips for a kiss as soon as the door shuts behind him, arms winding around his thick neck to bring him close. “The way you said that insinuates there we’ll be having more sex after this,” you tell him with a smile before diving back into another tongue twisting kiss.

“Hell yeah,” Mingyu groans against your tongue as you adjust to situate yourself over his lap, hips pressing dangerously close to his. “Gonna fuck you every day if I can. If you can handle that,” he adds.

You roll your eyes, pulling back to help yourself out of the cardigan and shirt you’re wearing. “What makes you think I can’t handle it?”

He only flashes you a toothy grin and quickly glances down at his groin area before winking at you. “You’ll see.”

“Kim Mingyu, you are a little shit,” you conclude despite the way your tummy churns at his insinuation, throwing off your shirt as Mingyu helps you out of a bra.

“I’m not little, that’s for sure … fuck, you’ve got the prettiest tits in the world,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you closer so he can plant his lips on the soft flesh. His mouth is warm, tongue tracing constellations over our skin before enclosing one of your nipples with his lips.

Slowly, his tongue traces circles around the stiffened nipple, teeth grazing over it ever so gently before biting down with slight force. “Ah!” you moan out, head thrown back as your hands travel up his neck and into his hair, fisting the thick, dark locks. “‘m sensitive, ‘gyu,” you tell him, shaky-breathed as he pulls his mouth off your tits with a slip popping sound.

“Sorry,” he says with a lazy smile. “Your tits are so nice,” Mingyu murmurs, bringing a hand up to squeeze over your other breast, tweaking the nipple in one hand as your hands begin to play with the hem of his tight fit shirt. “Fuck, can’t believe we didn’t fuck earlier. You know how much time we could’ve saved?” he says, pulling away just for a moment to peel the shirt off his body, revealing his firm, thick torso.

“I wonder whose fault that is?” You roll your eyes.

Mingyu frowns in response. “Don’t remind me … angel, take off your pants. Wanna finger you.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, because in an instant your hands are at the waistband of your pants as heat rises to your cheeks upon hearing his words. Just the thought of Mingyu’s thick, longer fingers inside your aching cunt is enough for it to pulse around nothing as you throw your pants to the side and shove your panties to reveal your core.

“Atta girl,”  he murmurs under his breath as you readjust yourself over his lap so that he can have better access between your legs. Slowly, he brings one hand up to your exposed cunt, bringing his middle finger to circle around your gaping hole. “Shit, you’re so wet, angel … so wet for me.”

“Just for you ‘gyu, just for you” you gasp out when he sinks one finger in, rough pads rubbing against your warm, gummy walls.

Now Mingyu occasionally entertains the outrageous idea that he’s well composed, but he’d be a fool to deny that, even though he can turn you to mush in the palm of his hand, you also have him wrapped around your little finger.

You only have to beg him once or twice for a second finger before he’s giving in, wanting nothing more than to spoil you until you can’t even remember what you were asking for in the first place. And naturally, when you finally tell him that you’re ready for more—ready for his cock—he can’t help but grin and comply.

“You think you’re ready?” he asks, slipping his fingers out and shoving them into your mouth so you can taste yourself.

“You think I’m not?” you mumble around his fingers. You pout a little and Mingyu chuckles, leaning in to give you a wet and sloppy kiss before lifting his hips a little.

“You’ll see angel … help me take this all off,” he tells you, and you’re quick to grab at his waistband and yank his pants and boxers down at the same time.

“What are you talking ab—oh.” The words dry on your tongue when you see his cock spring out, from underneath his boxers, the thickness slapping against Mingyu’s abdomen.

It’s fat and long and veiny in all the right places, heavy balls resting at the base of it, the reddish-pink tip smeared all over with his shiny, translucent white precum.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says with yet another chuckle, watching your face as you gaze down at his cock in awe.

“I-is it gonna fit?” you ask incredulously, eyes glancing back and forth between the smirk on Mingyu’s lips and the long length of his cock. Mingyu just shrugs and smooths his hands over your hips, your stomach, and then your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Your stomach flutters, cunt growing more and more needy and wet as the seconds tick by, and the way Mingyu’s tongue flicks against yours only heightens the feeling. When he pulls away, he settles his hands over your waist and directs you right over his cock, and something in you swells with pure arousal with the next words he says.

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit. You trust me?”

“Yeah,” you breath out, steadying your position as Mingyu uses one hand to guide his heavy length so that the tip points upwards and presses right against you.

“Fuck yeah,” he hisses, and you moan as you feel him sliding against your folds in a slippery, sticky mess. “old onto me, yeah angel? If you want to stop just—”

“Say the word,” you finish for him, placing your hands on Mingyu’s bare shoulders as an attempt to steady yourself, breath hitching as his length pushes into your entrance. “Oh shit, ‘gyu!" you cry out as you begin to sink down on him.

Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes—you can’t even fathom how, even after all his prep, Mingyu still feels like he’s nearly splitting you in half.

“Fuck, pretty—you’re so fucking tight,” Mingyu grunts, helping you nearly impale yourself on his cock. “Fucking fitting inside you so well,” he praises as he bottoms out inside of you, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder as you take deep breath.

Mingyu knows he’s big—knows it’s hard to fit him inside of you—and he’s feels so fucking lucky that he has you—so willing to take all that he’s giving—sucking him in and whining for more. He waits a few moments, only listening to the way your heavy breaths start to grow lighter, until you’re whimpering a soft, “‘gyu.”

He wastes no time in jerking his hips upward, shifting inside of you and battering the inside of your soft walls. You bite down on his shoulder as you push your hips down to meet his thrusts, choking back soft sobs as you feel his cock kiss your cervix with each movement.

“Holy shit,” Mingyu grunts as you begin to bounce on his lap, his length slipping out of you halfway before being plunged right back in with a sopping mess growing on his thighs.

You whine loudly at the overwhelming pleasure that takes over your body, lifting your head up so you could look at Mingyu with your mouth agape and hair stuck all over your burning face, a sheer layer of sweat starting to envelope both your bodies.

Soon, both of your movements begin to grow erratic and sloppy, hips jamming into each other so hard you’d be surprised if you even have the ability to walk tomorrow. You now know why Mingyu was concerned about fucking every day.

“You g’na cum soon pretty? Cum all over my cock? I can feel it angel, can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me.”

“Fuck, Mingyu,” you manage to gasp out, “Yeah, ’m gonna cum—feels so good, so full, so—fuck!”

Mingyu’s cock pulses inside of you and that’s when every detail seems to be heightened to a thousand—as your orgasm racks through you, you seem to feel every curve, every vein, dragging in and out of you to such detail that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you scream out his name.

Mingyu watches you fall apart, surrendering to bliss, and the way your hips are sporadically swiveling over his, your pussy’s wetness coating and creaming his cock has him going into a frenzy. Frantically, he begins to snap his hips faster up into you, your soft moans of overstimulation pushing him to his end faster than he can ever imagine. Watching the way he slides in and out of you is enough to have him cumming, shooting his hot, sticky load inside your warm cunt.

Riding out the last of his orgasm with soft rolls of his hips, Mingyu sighs contently at the feeling of you milking him dry, the both of you looking down at the wet, dirty mess you’ve made where the two of you connect, his cock still throbbing inside of you.

Both of you finally look up at the same time, grinning at each other, and you flop forward resting your head on his chest as he slowly combs his fingers through your hair, other hand running up and down your back.

“Why’d you start working the evening shifts?” you ask Mingyu after your breath has finally leveled. “I thought you hated those.”

“I did, but you stopped coming in the mornings, and I figured it was because of me. I hoped that maybe you would start coming in the evenings so I asked my boss to change my regular shifts just in case.”

“Oh wow, you really do love me.”

“I already told you I do! Even more than you love daisies, remember?”