#..... do u eVER JUST FLOP SO HARD

[skrs-cats]

I'll be real w u guys I'm running out of drawing ideas for the bros

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

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

series masterlist

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

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

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

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

“That one is complicated.”

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

“You don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

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

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

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

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

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

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

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

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

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

He looks good. Almost too good. 

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

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

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

“Mm… why not both?”

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

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

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

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

“You sound sure of yourself.”

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

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

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

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

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

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

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

“So business as usual?”

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

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

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

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

You cover his hand with your own. 

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

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

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

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

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

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

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

“Every time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kisses your palm. 

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

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

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

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you gonna do after that?”

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

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

“Yes, please.” 

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

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

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

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

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

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

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

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

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

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

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

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

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

“I…”

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

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

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

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

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

He knows. 

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

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

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

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

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

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

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

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

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

24 hours go by. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

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

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

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

“What? Why?”

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

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

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

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

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

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

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

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

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

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

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

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

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take a wild guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do we have to?”

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

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

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

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

“And I’m good. So...”

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

You groan in frustration. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to come inside you?”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“’M not.”

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

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

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

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

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

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

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you find it?”

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

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

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

He gets the general sentiment. 

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

“Mhm!”

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

“Yes,” you cry. 

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

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

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

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

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

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

He’s barely kidding. 

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

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

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But…?”

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

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

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

“You regret your first time?” 

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

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

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

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

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

You want to scream bloody murder. 

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

Maybe that’s worse. 

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

“I didn’t realize you…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight.”

-

part five

[stevebabey]

uhm shyly comes into your inbox to give a steve idea :’)

finding him so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it. so he’s cocky about it and teasing, it’s never relenting. he loves it and honestly so do you.

(feel free to ignore!)

trying to get my steve groove back on!!! thank u for sending something nonnie!! a lil bit of shy!reader <3 just a blurb too

Steve doesn’t know it’s a favourite of yours.

One of his polos fits his chest pretty perfectly if anyone asks your opinion. It’s that nice navy colour that looks good against his tan skin, with a bold stripe of white through the middle. A little plain but classic.

It hugs his biceps snugly and stretches ever so slightly over his chest. At the right angle, you can see the definition of his pecs and it’s awfully good at reminding you of what they look like with no shirt on at all.

The thought makes you fluster a bit.

He’s got plenty of polos but this one— this is your favourite. And he’s wearing it tonight, on Valentine’s day, and now you’re not quite sure you’ve been as slick with your wandering eyes as you hoped.

Across the booth, Steve smiles at you, his lashes kissing in the corner. He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck and your eyes zero in on the bulge of his bicep instantly.

Steve’s smiles melts into a grin, a tad wicked.

Yeah, okay, maybe he does know it’s your favourite.

You fluster again. Something nudges at your foot under the table, right as Steve says, “What?”

He’s teasing. He definitely knows what.

“Stop,” you murmur, on the side of embarrassed. “You know what.”

Steve smiles again and drops his arm, thankfully, only to fold them and lean forward on the table. It does wonders for his arms, especially in that shirt. Damn that shirt. Damn him. He’s evil.

“Do I know what?” He pretends to muse thoughtfully.

He tilts his pretty head to the side just an inch. His eyes stay locked on you, drinking up every second your flustered reaction. You’re beautiful, even more so when you get all embarrassed about liking him.

“Steve.”

“What?”

“I will not be responsible for any further inflation of your ego, thank you very much.” You mumble it as you take a sip of your soda, eyes on the table. Why is it so terrible to have him know you were leering at him?

Steve laughs loudly. He finally slides his arms back and off the table, giving you a temporary relief.

“You’re the only one who can inflate my ego, actually.” Steve counters, his brows raising. He steals a fry off your plate and chews it slowly.

You eye him over your cup, skeptical.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” He shrugs, swallowing his food. He takes a sip of his own milkshake, oh-so casual when he says, “Your opinion is the only one that really matters to me anyways.”

He grins across the table at you, a more mischievous shine in his eyes.

“Why do you think I picked this shirt?”

You’re equal parts mortified and enthralled at what he’s said. In your surprise, you accidentally inhale a bit of your soda and it burns as it goes down the wrong way— you cough awkwardly to clear it. Okay, less equal, more mortified now.

It’s your turn to ask. “What?”

Steve nudges your foot under the table again, teasing and flirting all in one. His pink lips curve into that grin that makes your heart flip flop— and there’s even a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. As though he’s also endeared but embarrassed by your attention.

“It’s your favourite.”

“It’s—” You splutter and for some reason, decide to lie. “No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it’s—” You pivot mid-sentence. “Who told you?”

Steve laughs again, that big loud belly-laugh where his cheeks get all chipmunk-y cos he’s grinning so hard. When he stops laughing enough to talk, he’s reaching across the table. You’re not quick enough to pretend to avoid his hand as he snags it with his own.

“Baby,” he says. “Nobody had to tell me. I could just tell.”

Somehow when he says it like that, when he calls you baby in a voice all sticky with fondness, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at all.

You nudge him back under the table and sip your sofa again to try think of something to say. He knows what you look like when you love something. How terrifying. How intimate.

Another sip of soda. Steve rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, content to gaze you. His view is sweet enough he must have cartoon hearts circling above his head.

You can’t think of anything to say in the end, so you just squeeze his hand and nudge his foot again — and trust that he’ll just be able to tell what you mean.

[maroonsoul]

YIPPIE. Ok first idea as 🗣anon

Stoic Business men. (I imagine Nanami, Shiu and perhaps even Kusakabe…smth about him gives off that vibe..probably the way he dresses) those fine tall beefy men that probably tower everyone around them (Nanami is 6’5, i cant find Kusakabe height but if I had to guess probably around nanamis height) stressed out men who once he gets home is immediately on the bed begging to be fucked till he cant think and is just babbling about every nasty thought in their empty heads that they normally would never say…

Also Kusakabe Eats lollipops because he’s trying to find alternatives then smoking and in almost every scene he’s in he has a lolipop so…..do u get it…

rubs hands together like a fly, we’re gonna get along you and me

cw : sub!nanami, dom!male!reader, anal play, dirty talking, a bit of cock stepping.

the working life was hard, tiring even. and kento often wondered how much more he could last living that way, if it wasn’t for you. you who weren’t even his proper lover, his official boyfriend. you who were more of his guilty pleasure. his little treat from a long week of torture. usually he came over to you on Fridays, to get the stress fucked out of him. but today must’ve been an exception.

it was only Tuesday and there he was, at your front door waiting for you to open. he didn’t even know if you were home or not but he had to try. you opened the door with nothing but a simple t-shirt and shorts, hair all messy and a tired look on your face. you raised an eyebrow at the sight of him ; he looked rough, as if someone completely drained the life out of him. some strands of hair covered his forehead in contrast to his usual slicked hairstyle, his tie was loose and his jacket not even properly worn.

“are you okay Kento ?” you asked, not letting him come in yet. he sighed and kept his eyes on the ground.

“do I look okay to you ?” he took a step closer, his breathing pattern slowly increasing. “can you let me come in ? please..?” his tone was softer than ever, almost like a whisper and you’d be a fool not to comply to his words. he looked up and down at your figure, if he had no manners he would be ripping your clothes and get fucked raw in the corridor.

however, Kento slowly walks inside your apartment that he knows so well, and stands completely still in front of you, probably too embarrassed to talk. you sit down on the couch, a flopping sound echoing in the room as you observe him from there. he continues to stare, bulge visible in his pants as he tried not to act like a complete slut. “why are you here Kento ? missed me ?” you say calmly.

he stays quiet for a moment before finally taking a few steps toward the couch. “I needed you.” he says softly. you furrow your eyebrows and try to hide your smile. it was unlike him to express his wants that clearly. “so badly.” he continues.

at your surprise, he kneeled down in the space between your legs, and looked up at you. you could almost see a frown on his face, his cheeks visibly heating up from the situation. you tried your hardest to stay composed, this huge mass of a man was completely offering himself to you, at your mercy and command. “can you help me ?” Kento whispered.

you passed a hand through his hair then went down to rub his cheek, he leaned into the touch and breathed softly. “tell me what you want me to do.” you say calmly, your heel massaging his hard crotch.

“I need you to fuck me, y/n.” he whispers, closing his eyes from the soft caress of your hand. kento instinctively parted his lips and you took the opportunity to slide a thumb inside his mouth. he sucked on it gently, quiet pants coming out of his throat. “fuck..” he swore under his breath as he felt the pressure from your heel on his cock. “I missed you.. s’much..”

“poor baby.” you coo. “wanna go to the bedroom ?”

obviously you ended up giving him what he wanted most without refutation and there he was ; bent over your mattress completely naked, ass bouncing at each and every thrust you gave him. your pace was fast and harsh, almost hateful but he could take it. at least he said he could.

while your cock worked inside his hole, Kento felt chattier than usual and kept on babbling praises for your efforts. “so good, so good, so good..” kept coming out like a chant. your grip on his waist was firm, giving his well built hips a few squeezes. he wasn’t even present at the moment, his mind completely blank as his primal instincts took over, arching his back more and more to feel you deeper inside him.

deeper, that’s what he kept saying over and over, drool coming out of his mouth and spilling all over on your pillow. he came multiple times already but it wasn’t enough, he needed more. “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..” he whispered. you pulled out of his hole and took a second to breathe. he protested, his ass now feeling emptier than ever, until you flipped him over on his back and what a sight it was.

Kento looked completely stupid, red flush spread all over his face and dried tears sitting on the corner of his eyes. he looked up at you, hot hands resting on the side of your waist, and showed a faint smile. you leaned down and kissed him, something you usually never did on your usual Fridays sex sessions. “Kento.. my sweet baby.” you laughed.

he turned his face to the side until you grabbed his chin to make him face you. “don’t look away from me.” you cooed while bending his legs on his chest. your mouth automatically glueing itself to his, he panted and moaned loudly as you went back inside and for him, it felt even deeper and better. he sunk his nails on your back, making you hiss at the pain, and you responded by only fucking him faster. your face found it’s place in the crook of his neck, and you whispered close to his ear. “you’re perfect baby.”

and at that, Kento could only respond with a whimper, “I should visit more often.” he thought.

[actuallysaiyan]

>bacon bacon bacon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

>you SNAPPED with this v-day event omg i loveeeeee it

>i would like to submit my request pls☝️😋

>may i pls have:

• Reader/Character tries to plan the most romantic Valentine’s Day, but everything falls through and they have to try and improvise to impress their loved one!

>with our darling nanamin!!! nsfw would be so lovely 🤭 i give you full creative liberties here, i know whatever you come up with will be PERFECT

>thank u luv u kkkbyeee ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

warnings: smut, use of vibrator, kissing, heavy petting word count: 1.1k pairings: Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader summary: you end up messing up everything you touch on Valentine's Day, and despite this, Kento still manages to fix it all by one little touch...

Tears well up in your eyes as you pull the burnt roast from the oven. This day was just getting worse and worse, and you weren’t sure you could even begin to improvise to make it better. Worst thing was that Kento would be home within the hour and you literally had nothing ready for him. Your heart ached at the thought of not being able to give your husband the best Valentine’s Day ever. You wanted nothing more than to restart this day if only to get a second chance at this. 

With a heavy heart, you turn off the oven and throw the dish into the garbage. Everything was ruined and there was no point in trying to even salvage it. Even the flowers you had ordered for Kento had been the wrong one. How could a florist fuck up so hard on Valentine’s Day? How could they accidentally send you funeral flowers and not give you some sort of compensation on their part?

You flop on the couch, your cute little apron looking like a bit of a joke now. You weren’t really wearing much under it. Just a pair of silky panties and some thigh-high stockings. The kind that Kento is absolutely crazy over. You groan when you realize there’s a big tear in it; somehow your stockings had runs in them.

This was just getting worse and worse. You calmly take a deep breath and decide to just order dinner from your delivery app. You find a restaurant offering a meal for two that looks succulent and delicious. It may not be home cooked, but you know that Kento enjoys this restaurant as well as you do. You go into the bedroom, and you consider changing into something a little more sexier. You find the red and pink lingerie and you throw it on. You change your stockings as well, then you throw on your favorite silky robe.

With that, you begin lighting the candles in the living room. Only problem is, they are all melting way quicker than you’d like. With a sigh, you turn on the fairy lights and wait for the food to be delivered. But as you wait, your eyes grow heavy from all the hard work you’ve done all day. Slowly, you fall asleep much to your own dismay.

“Honey?” You hear a soft but deep voice ask. You grunt softly as you begin to open your eyes.

“Oh no! No no no!” You whine softly, realizing your mistake. You had fallen asleep when you shouldn’t have.

Kento looks at you confused, unsure how to deal with this. You look so cute right now, but he hates whenever you’re troubled. He places the take-out that he grabbed from the delivery driver downstairs on the table in front of you. Then he kneels in front of you, his cock throbbing the minute he gets a whiff of your perfume.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Kento asks, his large hands soothing up and down your stocking-clad thighs.

You pout, “I fell asleep. I bet I missed the delivery guy…”

Kento motions over to the bag he just placed on the coffee table, and this soothes you immediately. He’s got another bag nearby too, one you recognize being from one of your favorite stores. Then you realize there’s more than one bag there. It makes your heart ache because you know this valentine’s day is just the pits for you.

“I fucked up, Ken. I wanted this to be perfect, but the florist sent the wrong flowers…” you point at the bouquet of funeral flowers. “And I burnt the roast that I wanted to make you for dinner.”

He smiles sadly, his heart so full of love. You really went out of your way to make this day so special for him, and even if you hit a few snags in the road, he knows you worked so hard to make sure it was going to be a good day regardless. He leans in and he cups your cheeks between his large hands and gives you such a sweet kiss.

“Hey, it’s okay. This night isn’t ruined…in fact, why don’t I take you into the bedroom and introduce you to your new gift?”

Your cheeks burn at his words, but you nod your head. He gathers you into his arms, carrying you bridal style. He only stops once to grab one of the bags; this one is silver and opaque. It’s clearly from the sex shop you and Kento frequent often.

Your heart pounds when he lays you on the bed and unties the knot holding your robe closed. Once again, his cock throbs in his dress pants as he sees you dressed in such cute lingerie for him. The pink and the red stand out nicely, especially for the holiday. You look so damn sexy to him, and you’re always such a good wife. Who cares if this day didn’t go exactly as you had it planned? Now that you’re both together, it can go so well from this moment on.

He pulls out a wand vibrator from the bag and a bottle of water-based lubricant. You let out a strangled whine when he plugs in the vibrator and turns it on. Kento takes his time teasing you. He runs it over your chest, your breasts and your nipples at first. The vibrations are deep and they excite you like crazy.

“That’s it, pretty baby. Just relax and let me take good care of you.” Kento murmurs against your skin as he presses the vibrator against your clothed cunt.

You pant and mewl as the vibrations tease you through your silky little panties. Your cunt clenches around nothing; the wetness is seeping through the fabric of your underwear. Kento’s watching you with lustful eyes. He doesn’t always get this kind of time alone with you, so he knows he’s going to take full advantage of it.

“There you go, pretty baby. Just go with it.” He guides you, then you gasp when you feel him pull your panties to the side.

The minute the vibrator hits your clit, you know you’re pretty much done for. You squirm and writhe under him, bucking your hips to be able to get that much stimulation. Kento isn’t a tease either, he wants you to feel good. He presses a button and the vibrations get faster and harder, making you pant and cry out his name.

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Just let go for me,”

A few more swipes of the vibrator against your clit and you’re coming undone in such an earth shattering orgasm. Kento watches you carefully, making sure he can draw all this beautiful pleasure from you. He’s planning on spending most of the night between your thighs anyway. As you slowly begin to come down, this is when you watch him get undressed and crawl on the bed.

“Now,” he says before kissing you deeply. “Are you ready for the main event?”

[luvsturniolo]

hi!! i rlly love ur writing and i wanted to ask if i could request something where readers reputation is ruined by a false rumor which leads reader to thinking they aren’t loveable but chris doesn’t think that cause he’s in love with her?

basically the trope “one believes they’re hard to love and someone who loves them like it’s breathing”.

ー ★ !! unloveable

pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : after some bad rumors are past around social media, you begin to overthink about whether or not you’re even loveable

a/n : ok but why this is request so fucking adorable ???? like the trope u put at the end makes me want to put my blood, sweat, and tears into this. UGHHHHH no matter who it's written, i'm gonna be 100% convinced it's not good enough because i love this prompt so insanely much

wc : 3.7k

you have been friends with the triplets for a few years now, and you all agreed to keep your face off of social media. it started when you jokingly voiced that you were a bit scared to be judged by the entire world. the triplets — mainly chris — took this seriously, though. they know how difficult it can be to have millions of eyes glued to you at all times. due to their awareness, nick suggested that you stayed off of their platforms to avoid any backlash that you're not ready for.

to be honest, at first you were a bit skeptical of his idea. i mean, you'd never had a ton of random people watching you like they always do. it seems easy enough, though. just make sure to keep your privacy hidden and don't do anything bad on camera. despite your questions, you agreed with nick's proposal. plus, the triplets are the experts here ; not you.

it's been three years since you guys came to this agreement. and it's been working out pretty well, frankly. nobody knows that you're friends with the triplets at all. nobody even has had the thought cross their mind. you're a random chick with a few hundred followers and they're famous youtubers with millions. no sane person would make that connection.

a year and a half ago, you and chris started dating. your relationship is the healthiest you've ever been in. he's caring, he listens when you talk, he hugs you a lot, he likes to compliment you, he buys 'just because' flowers.

you have had a past of toxic relationships. you told chris about them and he's been trying his hardest to heal the mental scars your exes have left behind. one of your past boyfriends was manipulative, another one was narcissistic, another was a proud cheater, and the last wasn't even present in your life.

"hey," you whisper into the darkness before you.

you're currently at the triplets' house, staying the night. nick texted you and asked if you wanted to have a sleepover — which you happily agreed to. you'd been watching a movie with nick in his room for the past hour or two, but he fell asleep a few minutes ago. you were on your way to sneak into chris's room when you heard someone rummaging through the kitchen cabinets.

overtaken by curiosity, you tip-toed down the hall to see who it was. you poked your head around the corner to make sure it wasn't an intruder. your nerves instantly calmed down at the sight of your boyfriend, hungrily searching for a midnight snack.

"hey," he answers, turning around to face you as you stand in the doorway, "why are you still up? it's late."

"i could ask you the same thing." you tell him with a light chuckle shaking your chest. you then walk into the kitchen and over to where chris stands in front of the pantry. he smiles down at you, causing your stomach to twist. its pretty crazy to think that you still get butterflies from him. most people say that you won't feel giddy forever, but you seem to have proven that theory to be incorrect. it's been nearly two years and you still get flustered when he smiles at you.

you lift your hands into the air before dramatically flopping down onto his chest. your wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shirt. he smells like home, a comforting scent that always makes you relax as it meets your nostrils. chris grins down at you before wrapping his arms around your torso, holding you by the waist lovingly.

"i'm assuming nick fell asleep?" he asks you.

not in the mood to open your mouth, you simply nod in response. he feels your head shift against his chest and he accepts the answer. normally, he teases you for being lazy. but chris loves it when you're sleepy like this. he loves seeing you all delirious and disoriented. teasing you would be like taunting a lost puppy — it's not right. morally.

"he always falls asleep when you guys watch movies together." chris says as though you didn't know that. "didn't he promise to stay awake this time? i thought you guys were planning to pull and all-nighter."

"that didn't happen." you say. your voice comes out muffled from his shirt presses to your face. "he pinky promised to stay awake, but fell asleep thirty minutes into the film we were watching. i stayed up and finished it, though."

"you finished it before or after you came to find me?" chris asks with a laugh. you just roll your eyes as a smile grazes your lips. he can feel the way your mouth pulls upward against his skin. knowing that you're smiling and he can't see it kinda pisses him off. your smile is his favorite thing in the whole world and he's missing it? that's completely unacceptable.

you yawn, blinking a few times to keep yourself from succumbing to slumber. chris notices your fatigue and asks if you're ready for bed. "yes, please!" you respond eagerly, excited to lay down with him and go to sleep in his arms. chris laughs at your excitement, honestly finding it adorable that you're so impatient to sleep.

the two of you walk back to his room together and you grin at the sight of his bed. you rush ahead of him and flop down onto the mattress. your face is pointed up at the ceiling as chris plops down next to you, looking at the ceiling as well.

"is this your equivalent to star gazing?" he asks you, knowing how obsessed you are with the thought of looking at stars together. it's something you've always begged him to do with you. but chris has refused. not because he doesn't want to, but because he wants to do it right. you're looking forward to doing this so bad that he refuses to settle for anything less than the absolute best.

he thinks the stars aren't bright enough in the city. he wants to bring you out to a field and look at them. but you still complain about it constantly — unaware of his little plan.

"yeah," you say with a groan, "since my boyfriend won't look at stars with me, i have to look at your popcorn ceiling instead. my standards have been lowered for you by a lot, i hope you know!"

chris laughs, leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead. he stays hovering over you before he whispers "soon, baby." against your skin. the feeling of his lips grazing your head tickles, making you giggle a little. chris's grin widens at the sound. he sits up and watches your giggles fade away, enjoying the bliss of seeing you smile like this.

"what?" you ask with a laugh, noticing the way your boyfriend is staring at you shamelessly.

"nothing." he replies with a shrug. "you're just so beautiful, i can't help but stare."

you look at him with nothing but admiration behind your gaze. it's truly surreal how far you've come in such a little amount of time. just a few years ago, you were in a toxic relationship with a guy who cheated on you with a different girl each night. and whenever you would confront him about it, he would turn it into an argument — which he would win every time. but now? now you're with chris. who is the literal epitome of perfection. you genuinely want to spend the rest of your life with him. nothing else matters but you two.

you and chris end the night in each other's arms. he holds your body against his side, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

the both of you find yourselves falling into an easy, dreamless slumber. this is your favorite place in the world — his arms. no matter what's wrong in your life, the feeling of security always patches every issue. regardless of how messy.

after a few hours of bliss, you jump awake at the sound of chris's bedroom door slamming open. the back of the door hits his wall, the sound of impact waking up chris as well. you feel his shift next to you, his arms still wrapped around your waist. you groan, not wanting to open your eyes.

suddenly, you hear chris gasp. then he pulls the blanket over your face, holding you against his chest protectively. of course, your mind jumps to the worst conclusion — someone broke in and you're all gonna die! you find out that this wasn't this case, though, when you hear chris's voice begin to scold his brother.

"nicolas!" chris shouts. the anger in his voice tells you that this is serious and you should stay out of it. "what the actual fuck are you thinking!?"

"i didn't know you guys were cuddling!" nick tries to defend himself. "if i'd known, i wouldn't have come in! you know i respect your decision to keep y/n hidden! why the hell would i ever do this on purpose!?"

"well where else would she be sleeping if she wasn't with you!?" chris argues back.

slowly, you peak your head out from under the blanket before cautiously asking, "what happened?"

"nick thought it'd be clever to start a live stream at eleven in the fucking morning! then, he had the bright idea to come in here and surprise us!" chris explains, still very very pissed off. "and of course he didn't think to knock like a normal person. he instead took it upon himself to walk right on in and record us!"

"i thought it was just chris!" nick says, stuffing his phone in his pocket now that he's ended the live. "i don't even know if anyone saw her. maybe they missed it and we can just say that it was matt?"

"why the fuck would i be snuggling matt?"

you laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "chris, lets be real. you cuddle your brother more than your girlfriend."

"i love you," chris says softly, "but it's now is not the time for jokes. this could be a huge fucking problem."

"okay, i'm sorry." you're quick to apologize, stretching up to press a kiss to his cheek before gently whispering, "i love you too." against skin.

you notice nick slowly back out of chris's room, not wanting to be around if chris decides to get angry again. you glance up at your boyfriend only to see that he's already staring at nick's departing form. chris is obviously still angry, but he doesn't seem to care enough to argue with his brother again. so he lets nick leave without giving him a hard time.

once nick is completely out of the room, you hear chris sigh. like it's a pained, saddened sigh that makes you want to cry for him. you look up to meet his worried eyes already glancing down at you.

"hey," you whisper, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him better. "it'll be okay. we'll work it out like we always do." chris smiles at this before leaning down to press a slow, gentle kiss to your lips. you kiss him back before giggling and grimacing away from it. "i have horrid morning breath. let me brush my teeth before you kiss me."

you begin to move around toward the edge of the bed, aiming to leave and brush your teeth so you can start the day. before you can even make it to the side of the mattress, you feel chris's arms wrap around your torso and pull your body backward against his chest.

"i don't care about your breath," he tells you, "i just want you to stay with me a while longer. brush your teeth later."

you chuckle, "that's so nasty."

"pleeeease," he begs, tightening his grip around you, pulling your body firmly against his own. "stay with me, baby."

chris know how you feel about pet names. you hate them. they make you cringe. but when he whispers it against the back of your neck and you feel his breath against the hairs of your skin, you can't help the butterflies that swarm your stomach. you instantly give in and twist around to hug him.

"okay. i'll stay." you inform him, returning to the position you guys were in while sleeping. you shut your eyes before continuing. "but don't ever call me baby again."

"why not?" chris asks, clearly upset. "i could tell you liked it by the way you gave in so quickly. why can't i call you a nickname every once in a while. i think they're cute."

you groan, "i'm sleepy. let's talk about this later."

chris agrees and you both fall back asleep, enjoying the comfort of being in each other's arms. you know that no matter what happens with the media seeing your face, you'll always have chris by your side. nothing else is important as long as he is next to you.

the next time you wake up, it's bright outside.

you're no longer in chris's arms with him spooning you. you're now laying diagonally across the bed with your head in his lap as he scrolls through his phone. you blink a few times to let your eyes focus to the light of the room.

"mornin' baby." he says, quickly shutting off his phone and hiding it under his leg.

the action of him hiding his phone is enough to distract you from the use of the pet name. you raise a brow at his behavior, growing a bit concerned. you trust chris more than anything, but considering your history with cheaters, you can't help the annoyance that resides in your gut.

"what were you looking at, hm?" you ask him, trying not to be rude or anything. you want to stay calm with him because it's probably nothing.

"nothing, babe."

again, you ignore the nickname and focus on his suspicious demeanor. you thin your eyes at him, trying to read his body language. but it's difficult. he doesn't seem like he was texting some random chick, but why else would he hide his phone from you? you guys always share everything because he knows how you can get with this sort of thing.

curiosity overtaking your mind, you reach over and snatch his phone out from under his leg. chris opens his mouth to argue, but doesn't do anything to stop you from opening it and going to his recently opened app.

he was on tiktok, scrolling through the comments of some random fan page. you shoot chris a weird look before reading a few of them, your heart dropping to your ass from a mix of embarrassment and shame.

"did y'all see nick's live this morning?"

"who tf was that girl w chris? lmao she's not even pretty 💀"

"i found the chick's insta and she's apparently been in some rly shitty relationships. i mean lets be real. chris has never seriously dated anyone but this girl has been cheated on, manipulated, and abused? there's a clear denominator here. she's def done smth to cause that (for attention i'm guessing) "

"guys chris won't stay w her for long anyway after he finds out ab her ugly history!"

you read through the comments with an expression of pure disgust. how the fuck are these people going to sit here and talk bad about you when you've never even shown your face on the triplets channel? it's completely unfair.

you look at chris, but he's looking away. you wonder why he hasn't defended you on this. also, he was reading these people's opinions with a straight face. you begin to worry if he believes what they're saying. you glance back down at his screen, reading the third comment over and over.

there's a clear denominator here they had said. i mean, they're not necessarily wrong about that. you've been in bad relationships whereas chris has never dated anyone for a long period of time. in this light, of course you look like the bad guy. you can't technically blame their fans for judging you. you're easy to judge.

tears begin to prick your eye and you hand chris back his phone before wordlessly standing up from the bed and leaving his room. not once did he try to stop you or ask you to stay with him. you walk down the triplets' hallway and enter the bathroom, locking the door behind you and sitting down on the closed toilet seat.

you hold your face in your hands and try your hardest not to start crying over a bunch of teenagers talking shit on your name. but you can't help the intense weight on your chest and the lump in your throat.

to be honest, you don't give a shit about their insults. what you care about is the fact that they're right. you don't deserve someone like chris. he's so sweet and kind and understanding while you're irritable and skeptical of every little thing he does. you've done nothing to earn someone like him. maybe you have only ever been in toxic situations because that's what you deserve.

before you can stop them, tears begin to pour from your eyes. your cheeks become soaked with your pain. your entire body trembles as you sob into your hands, making it harder and harder to breathe correctly.

you love chris. you love him more than anything. you want to share the rest of your life with him. but you don't want to make him settle for less — the less in this case being your relationship. he deserves someone better. someone who won't snatch his phone from him when he's only trying to protect you from pain. someone who will let him call you pentanes because he loves them. someone who will be better. someone who's not you.

suddenly, you hear a knock at the door.

already knowing who it is, you tell chris to go away. your voice comes out shaky and hoarse, making it incredibly easy to know you'd been crying. the tone practically screams at him, saying that you're upset over something he tried to save you from in the first place.

"will you please let me in, baby?" chris asks. his voice is soft and gentle. you're suddenly craving the feeling of being in his arms. the feeling of being loved. the feeling of having him comfort you.

the greedy emotions you feel paired with the nickname makes it impossible to not open the door for him. you shuffle over to the door and let him in. you sit back down on the toilet seat, keeping your head downcast the whole time as to not see his face or show your tears.

you stare at the floor, watching his feet pad across the tiled floor before he stops in front of you. he drops to his knees so his face is in line with yours. you quickly turn away and stare at the shower curtain, letting your hair to cover your puffy eyes.

chris sighs before grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. he lifts his other hand to your hair, tucking it behind your ears so he can admire every inch of your beauty with no veil to cover the rawness of it. he lets out a shaky exhale, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. all the while, you keep your eyes pinned to his face. you watch every single movement he makes, knowing that you don't deserve any of the kindness he's offering you.

knowing that this relationship will not last forever, you begin to cry again. you lean forward and rest your forehead against chris's shoulder, allowing tears to pool from your eyes as he rubs a hand up and down your back.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" he asks with his voice in a whisper. "i wanna know what you're thinking so i can tell you how irrational it is."

you laugh at him, but it just causes you to let out a choked sob. his humor is your favorite part about him. the fact that chris can make you laugh in any given situation is what you adore most. hearing him do it while you're thinking of how to break the news that you're leaving him so he can find someone better? this is gut wrenching.

"i love you." you tell him. "so, so fucking much."

"i love you too." he replies easily, not thinking anything of the fact that you're telling him this right now. but when you continue, chris begins to put the pieces together and he starts vigorously shaking his head in refusal.

"these past two years have been the best of my whole life," you tell him with a wavering voice. "but you deserve better. you deserve the world. and i can't offer that to you, chris."

"i don't want the fucking world." he says, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you to be in front of him to look you in the eyes. "i want you and only you."

"but-"

"no." he interrupts. "i don't give a single fuck what anyone else thinks. and i'm sorry, but i don't even really care what you think right now. because you're all wrong. i belong with you and i don't want anyone else even if i was paid a million dollars."

you stare at him with wide eyes, your dried tears still adorning your skin. the would could be ending outside, and you would stay in this bathroom and continue to stare at chris. his eyes are so gorgeously blue that you find yourself getting lost in them.

if you guys get married and live the rest of your lives together, your bodies will change. your skin will wrinkle. your hair will grey. your lips will thin. your hands will shake. your back will hunch. nothing about your appearance is permanent. nothing except the eyes. the shade, the hue, and the iris will all stay the same until they close for the last time. and you can't wait to look into chris's eyes for the rest of your life.

"i think you would be crazy to reject a million dollars for me." you tell him with a little giggle, wiping at your cheeks to rid them of the leftover tears.

chris's heart flutters at the sight of your smile, "there she is."

tags : @kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld @lovelysturniolo @wilmalovegood @ladylokilaufeyson5 @sturniolopepsi @strnilolo @knowingnothingnoel @its-jennarose @lea0518 @slaysturniolo @sturnlover @tcvazq

[l0verf0rever]

𝙔𝙚𝙨, 𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙭 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩? | 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘💋

[Charles Leclerc X Singer Reader]

Social Media Au!

Warning : Smut , Toxic Behavior , Fluff ending,Don’t get back with you’re ex pls.

Summary : Seeing You’re Ex places tonight its a bad ideas right?

MasterList

Bad idea right? - Olivia Rodrigo

Seeing Each other at tabloids and its hard to avoid at a dinner party with you’re friends “okay whos you’re hottest person you hooked up with?” As they take turns answering Distracted by You’re phone

And I'm right here with all my friends. But you're sendin' me your new address

“Uhm.. Charles?..” awkward silence “Y/n You Never seen any other hotter men?” They talk to you “ Can’t remember when really” As the dinner wraps up and You’re on the way to he’s place

They texted you “Y/n what are you doing We’re gonna have a get together!” In the Car the way to he’s place “i Can’t i’m gonna sleep soon” didn’t say where tho and you’re planning a different get together

And I pull to your place on the second floor And you're standin', smiling at the door

He opens the door smiling “i missed you” holding you’re waist He slowly Kisses you as you’re lipstick stains he’s lips bringing you to he’s Bedroom but still not letting you go

Being at the warmth of each other body as both of you’re phones blew up due to each other under him as He makes hickeys on you “mon amour fuck” you’re arms around he’s neck as he’s hand holding you’re naked back as he’s chest pressed to you’re breast

“Seulement le mien ?” As both of you are in a cowgirl position “ye-yes” breathy moans escaping and hard groans Being in the comfort of each others body as a release he pulls you in for a kiss

“Charles f-fuck more “ he becomes more aggressive with you manhandling you at the point switching positions He’s hand on you’re breast and the other one holding you’re hips “fucked you so many times still so fucking tight”

Hes heavy groans reaching each others high in a few hours later

Being under He’s sheets was a offer u couldn’t resist you’ll take it any time of the day he’s hands around you’re back making sure you’re close to him

“mon amour i was foolish to leave you “ as he kisses You’re temples “ill clean you up”carrying you bridal style to he’s Bathroom falling asleep as both of you go back to bed

He’s messy hair and he’s face still asleep as the morning light shines on you’re body getting dressed to leave

Not knowing he follows “don’t leave please” holding you’re arm “i want you to stay” you stayed and

Under He’s sheets as you open you’re phone missed calls from you’re friends “why the hell did you get back with Charles!?” Being heard as Charles listened

You’re friends practically pissed off “why did u hooked up again!” As you speak “Yes, I know that he's my ex But can't two people reconnect? I only see him as a friend “. (The biggest lie I ever said)! As u smirk knowing well you got back together

“𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙙!”.

Hi its me again i hope this doesn’t flop i also love the new song bad idea right! And i’m just so inlove with the concept of it i made this story ! Hope you love it as much as i do<3

[knot-headed]

your ghost fic was so good oh my god. since you said that you were open to suggestions, would you ever consider writing something that involves ghost getting knotted? love the way u write dude

new experiences

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male Reader Summary: Simon experiences one of your heats for the first time. Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. Anal (R giving), knotting, heats, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, what are refractory periods?

Your chest heaves as you try to remain still, fists clenched in the bed sheets and head thrown back in exasperation, unable to keep your eyes open as Simon lowers himself onto you inch by inch, your mind and body in turmoil as you know he needs to go slow to adjust to your size, but the deep ache in the pit of your stomach begging him to hurry so you can fuck him already.

Thighs trembling with restraint you puff out a harsh breath as you adjust to the way his hole hugs you tightly, senses trickling back to you as you fill him inch by inch until you bottom out, your whole length nestled deep inside him. He stays like that for what feels like an eternity as your breathing evens out, finally able to lift your head and look at him.

Simon doesn't seem to be doing any better than you are - a deep flush blooming from his neck down, his chest slowly rising and falling as he breathes until he's comfortable, his hard cock drooling precum onto your abdomen where it rests.

An involuntary grunt punches from your throat when he plants his hands on your chest and lightly rocks, your hands leaping to hold onto his waist, trying to pull him forward for more, to do anything. He goes with you, slow, testing the movement, and you can't help but be distracted by the flexing of his muscles, thick thighs resting on either side of you as he rocks. You didn't think it was possible but taking in the sight of him makes you more eager, cock twitching as Simon moans almost silently, slipping into more of a rhythm.

Over the next few minutes he gradually increases his pace until he's able to rapidly bounce up and down on your cock, your brain almost short-circuiting as you try and meet him thrust for thrust, pleasure coursing through your body. Your hands circle aroud to grab his cheeks, massaging the plump muscle as he switches back to grinding against you, your cock bumping against his prostate with every movement.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, until finally Simon breathlessly speaks. "Christ love, I'm close." It ignites a spark in your brain, redoubling your efforts as you begin to move Simon hard and fast up and down your cock, your own need for release beginning to surge as he moans, face lax with pleasure.

As he climbs higher and higher he babbles unintelligible curses, breathing harshly with exertion. It only takes a few more thrusts until Simon is throwing his head back with exclamation, a curse erupting from his lips as he cums, body quaking around you as his release triggers yours, your cock erupting with white ropes as you paint his insides, your hips still thrusting as his hole milks you for all you can give.

You stay like this for minutes, drawing each other's pleasure out for as long as possible until Simon stops, planting a hand on your chest and panting, his thighs burning with effort as tries to keep himself up. He groans in discomfort as he manages to lift himself just enough to flop down on his back next to you, throwing an arm over his eyes as he tries to catch his breath.

An ache is still deeply burrowed in your gut, cock painfully hard and twitching for more as you roll to hover over Simon, planting kisses against his lips, jaw, throat, trailing down his chest and then back up until you're settled between his legs, cock rubbing against his as your tongue invades his mouth, desire giving way to feral need.

It's a struggle to draw back only just enough to whisper against his lips "Ok to keep going?", brain struggling to form the sentence properly before you're kissing him again. He silently nods and it's all you need, cock easily sliding back into him thanks to cum that sticks to his walls. Everything feels more intense as he rocks up and down the bed, his nails pressing into your back and leaving crescent-shaped indents when you lean down to capture his mouth, only breaking apart when you need to breathe.

This time with each thrust you tug at his cock, his body arching up as he quickly grows to full hardness, his cock starting to weep precum as the head of your dick brushes against his prostate, unfiltered moans mixing in the air. His pleasure increases your own, the sight of him desperately trying to find his peak, the way he tries to jerk up into your hand, his flushed face and eyes unable to open and the feeling of your cock gliding through his hole tips you dangerously close to the edge.

Thankfully you don't have to wait long, the change in Simon's breaths, the way he bears down so you're fully inside him signals his impending release, and with a few more thrusts and rolls of your hand over his cock he's lifting up as high as he can, body sucking you in and cock spitting strings of white across his stomach. You follow soon after, dumping another load deep inside, your bodies quaking and jerking with pleasure as you ride out your highs. Your hips don't stop, trying to release as much as you can while Simon twitches with relief.

He groans, tenderness and oversensitivity settling in as you barely manage to stop your hips, cock still rock hard within him, only just slowly grinding as you babble into the crook of his neck. "Just one more please, I'm close, I'm so close". Your brain is muddled, desperate for release.

He's tired now - mumbling an "Ok" as you change positions, pushing Simon onto his hands and knees and rapidly pushing back inside, your thighs already slapping against the back of his in a harsh pace. The force behind your thrusts knock him forward, Simon instead choosing to drop to resting on his arms, your cock nudging deep within him and bullying his prostate, whining groans accompanying each thrust as his body is beginning to tip from pleasure to pain.

The twinge in your stomach feels different this time; more intense, and your whole body feels overwhelmed, each slap of your hips causing the knot at the base of your dick to begin to swell, and grow larger and thicker until eventually Simon can feel it pressing against his rim every time you bury yourself completely within him.

Pure desperation to cum drives your hips forward, thrusting hard and rough until your knot is pushed inside, a vicious groan of pleasure filling the air as you're locked to Simon, your cock twitching and pulsing as you cum one final time, pouring everything you have into him as you hold him by the hips, Simon loudly cursing as his cock explodes underneath him, threads of white spraying across the bed and even covering his chest.

Your arms can't hold you up anymore, collapsing onto your side as euphoria thrums through your veins, your skin sticky with sweat as you hold Simon to your chest, your knot firmly in place, locking you together.

Simon tries to adjust and the silence is broken, the movement causing his rim to tug on your knot, a hiss deep from your lungs as your cock twitches, a small pulse of cum oozing out into the depths of his hole, your hand quickly holding onto his hip, silently begging him not to move again as your brain is fried. He groans, exhaustion wracking through his body as he feels you twitch inside, unable to go another round.

* * *

A relieved groan escapes from the depths of his chest when he steps under the warm shower, the water instantly relieving his aching muscles. He remains there for a few minutes, letting the warmth wash over him until he hears the bathroom door open and shut, and then the shower doors slide open, cold air rushing in briefly until you quickly shut it again.

Simon steps to the side for you to immediately step under the deluge, your skin warming before you take his hand to pull him towards you, standing chest against chest as you cup his jaw and kiss him; slow, relaxed, in no rush at all. You moan into his mouth as he deepens the kiss briefly, only to quickly be replaced by a disappointed groan when he breaks away and looks down, huffling slightly when he finds the source of what was poking him in the stomach.

"You're hard again?" He questions, slightly confused with the memories of the previous night still rattling in his bones.

You make a point of your eyes sweeping over his figure, his skin glistening under the water, droplets trickling down his muscles. Backing him against the shower wall you trail kisses across his throat, hands trailing down his hips and then behind, each grabbing a handful of his ass. "Do you blame me?"

Simon grunts, blood trailing down his body to his cock, despite the tiredness and the aching he can't help but get excited at another round, thinking that offering to help with your heat is one of the best things he's ever done.

[starboundpix]

day fourteen ✧ storm

"It's raining outside," Sun says, sitting up when thunder rumbles in the distance.

"Hmm, is it?" It's hard for you to care when you're so warm and comfortable, sandwiched between Sun and Moon. Their bodies protect you from the stone floor of the cave as you lie on Moon's chest and drape your legs over Sun's tail. The deep blue mer is dozing, yet his arms are strong and tight around you, holding you to his chest. You shift in his hold, about to drift back asleep when Sun speaks again.

“I know you love being with us, dearie, but perhaps you should go back home. We don’t want you getting sick or hurt in the storm, no we don’t!”

You whine, reaching an arm out to pat Sun’s shoulder. Your eyes are closed, so you miss and pat his stomach, much to his amusement. “Stop worrying,” you say. “I’m safe with you two, aren’t I?” At his hum of affirmation, you continue. “The weather app said the storm will pass in an hour and we’re sheltered by the cave. So lie down and take a nap with us.”

“Mmm, the human is right, Sunny. Sleep,” Moon grumbles, the vibrations traveling through you from where your back is pressed against him.

Your lips curl into a soft smile when you feel Sun shift, lying back down. Moon removes an arm from you so the yellow mer can rest his head on the offered arm. A clawed hand gently grabs your own, threading your fingers together. At the same time, you feel Moon’s arm tighten around your waist as his tail flops over Sun’s own, creating the most comfortable nap and cuddle pile you’ve ever been in.

“Goodnight,” you say with a small laugh, tightening your hold on Sun’s hand. 

“Sweet dreams!” and “Sleep well,” are the responses, both spoken in warm and affectionate tones.

The pattering of raindrops grows louder, and the rolling thunder adds to the crashing of waves, creating the perfect background noise for you to drift off into sleep. And so you do, with two beautiful mer wrapped around you, warm and content and happy.

note: this was inspired by me taking the longest nap today. I just wanted cozy sleepy vibes during a storm >u<

mermay 2024 masterlist

[mimaniniyum]

Tasty (S) (A)

Cw:basketball player!winwin x bádminton player!reader,oral sex,slightly rough sex mainly soft,lots of I love u’s,Small argument,makeup sex,lovey-dovey shit,back scratching,kick back era sicheng 😵‍💫

Based off this from twt/X :link (NSFW)

A/N: yum yum (im abt to write an nct 127 angst fic after this)

WC: 800-ish

The start to your day was already shit but if badminton practice wasn’t worse you wouldn’t know what was your coach yelled at you for being a minute late and also missing multiple times as you got back home you dropped your practice bag and flopped down on the couch in your shared apartment with your boyfriend Sicheng, he currently wasn’t home since he had basketball practice until 7 so you texted him and dropped your phone down on the couch.As you now just lay there you being to tear up trying to cry but that was a futile attempt as you started to heave tears fall down your face but you quickly wiped your tears hearing the door unlock you see sicheng enter clearly distraught and angry as you bid your hellos to him he ignores you and walks off to the room slamming the door and locking it.You get up and walk to the room door to ask if hes okay as you do all you hear him say from the other side is a annoyed “go away” as you walk back to the living room you sit there sad knowing your one source of comfort is upset but you surpass this and grab the remote to turn on the tv you flip through numerous channels as sicheng exits the room with new clothes dawning a white T-shirt and basketball shorts he glances at you still pretty upset and looks back at the tv ypu turn to him and say hi again but he continues to ignore you and all you say is “Why are you ignoring me?” And that only seemed to make him more angry he looked to you absolutely livid only saying “Just shut the fuck up” as you paused you say “I just asked why you upset I wasn’t trying to make you mad” sounding sadder then ever “Well you did,great now im in an even worse mood” he says with such annoyance and distain in his voice you look away from him and down at the floor you feel yourself tear up again trying to hide your tears from him in hopes that he wont get more upset you curl up on the couch.you glance over at him again now he looks somewhat more calm but as if he feels bad for what he said to you.you wipe your tears but they still fall as you sniffle letting out a small sob,He looks at you turning his neck fast and he quickly cups you cheek in his hand looking at you sorrily “No baby im sorry I didn’t mean to get mad at you like that” no completely sobbing and covering your eyes in your palms wiping off your eyes you look back at him eyes slightly red as you shakily say “no its my fault I shouldn’t have pressed you like that” as he quiets you he softly smiles asking about why your sad and you explain everything to him he kisses your cheek and holds you telling you its okay and he ask if there is anything he can do to make up to you and you hesitantly say you want him as he quickly understands what you mean he lifts you up from the couch and carries you to the room he plops you on the bed and starts to kiss you asks if its okay.

to remove your skort and you nod as you remove your shirt leave you only in your underwear and bra as get up to remove those two articles of clothing he begins to remove his cloths as both of you are now naked he lifts up for legs and holds them back as he faces your cunt he licks your clit you whine in pleasure he continues to eat you out for a couple of minutes you start to moan in upmost pleasure you begin to spew out praise “Fuck chengie im gonna cum” as he lifts his face from your cunt you whine at the loss of stimulation sicheng get up from his position on the bed and drags to the end of the bed as he places your legs around his waist,you wrap your arms around his neck he lifts you up from the bed and inserts his cock into your cunt as he bounces you on his cock hard and fast until you tell him to slow down a little.

and he listens to you as he thrusts into you lovingly you began to scratch his back with your nails due to the pleasure it makes you feel warm inside as you start to random say “I love you” in between moans as he continued to thrust up into your for a few minutes all he could say was “I love you” “your made for me” “your the best thing that could happen to me” “ your my love” “I love you babe” as you moaned in pleasure

As his thrust became sloppy,he cums inside of you filling you up with his cum

As you thank him for pleasing you he replies with “Anything for you baby”

As both of you came at the same sichengs thrust became sloppy as he came to a stop. You both breathe heavily as you drop down to the bed with sichengs cock still inside of you he leaned down to kiss you again.

[sungbeam]

SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW — act I, scene v

nonidol!hwang intak x f!reader

when summit poster boy hwang intak's car breaks down in the school parking lot, it sets off a chain of events that leads to you, someone he was perhaps always meant to find. the only problem is that the two of you are far from the ideal couple, and your peers are apt to keep that status quo.

▷ genre, chapter warnings. s2f2l, classism and discrimination, forbidden romance au, minimal swearing, angst, humor, mentions of grief and terminal illness, written in third person pov

▷ word count. 2.8k

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a/n: whenever i come back to this series, i remember how hard it is to write it

SUMMER (RISING SENIORS).

Yn had not sent a picture back to Intak. In fact, she hadn't even opened his messages. Intak couldn't decide which was worse—being left on "read" or on "delivered." Both were equally quite horrible, but as the day went on with radio silence from her end, he continuously had to remind himself that she had responsibilities and a life. She couldn't be at his beck and call, and she certainly wouldn't ever entertain the idea of being so.

But one little text would have eased his mind. Just one, little text.

Intak flopped onto the couch in the living room of his house, the entirety of which remained just as cold and empty as it always was. In a way, the quiet was good because it meant that his father wasn't home, taking with him that thick, haunting presence of his. Intak sometimes imagined that he walked around with a massive cloud of fog clinging to his legs and feet, and that image had engraved itself into his head since he was an adolescent, more so now that his father's murky fog would soon consume Intak in all of those heavy expectations.

He lifted his phone up to catch a glimpse of the time. He would have to leave for that one dance class soon, the one that he and his friends had signed up for together to occupy themselves during the summer. If Intak wasn't forced to take over the company after his schooling, he would be dancing, or maybe even reading shit, like proper literature, and writing poetry about dead older brothers and forbidden friendships with strangers who felt closer to him than his own family.

He was tempted to text Yn just to check in. Something like 'hey bff i'm bored as hell and sad as fuck hbu' or 'miss u and worried about u text me back?' or god forbid, 'i've been trying to imagine what u look like but i have a feeling a picture won't do u justice.' God, he really needed to stop watching those cursed romcoms when he was bor—

Bzzzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzz.

Intak leapt out of his skin in surprise.

He reached into his pants pocket to withdraw Jaehyuk's phone. The notifications from Yn came in rapid succession at the top of the screen:

yer a wizard yn!: sorry i went mia for like a day

yer a wizard yn!: smth came up

yer a wizard yn!: cute pic btw :') ig i owe u a pfp too

yer a wizard yn!: *sent a photo*

Intak held his breath, then forced himself to turn away from the phone screen. Was he ready for this? Was he ready for her reveal? This felt like an invasion of privacy, especially with how carefully she kept her identity hidden the first few weeks they'd been texting each other. It hadn't been until recently that Yn had begun to let him learn things about her.

It wasn't like he forced her though… right? It was out of her own want and will. It was her choice and he—

He was going to fully indulge in that.

Intak finally opened up the full chat to view the messages she'd sent.

And lo and behold, there she was. It was a casual selfie, seeming to be taken in front of a window by the way the sun shone over her face in a gold-colored glow. She wore a dark T-shirt with a logo Intak couldn’t quite make out from the way her arms and hair were positioned. In fact, he could only see about half of her face from the way she hid the lower half behind her pulled-up knees. But her eyes crinkled enough that he could see that she was smiling.

The soft smile on his face was a stark contrast to the sharp palpitations of his heart in his chest. Before, he could never imagine the face he was speaking to across the phone—rather, it had always just been a person with blurred features. Now that he could put a face to the name, and the voice, and the character…

Intak saved the picture and set it as Yn’s contact photo. He wondered if he should have even been doing this since Jae didn’t even have a contact photo saved for her. (But now that she had sent it, it wasn’t like Intak was going to resist setting that photo as her contact, especially since it was an excuse to stare at it while he was texting her.)

jae’s phone: that photo is not fair that’s like… half ur face dude >://// /j

jae’s phone: but thank uuuuuuu i KNEW u were cute

He chewed on his bottom lip, quickly adding onto his previous texts since it seemed like Yn wasn’t going to reply back any time soon.

jae’s phone: ik ur the one who suggested swapping photos, but i hope u didn’t feel obligated to. ik u were never super comfortable w sharing personal info abt urself w me, but i’m genuinely really happy to get to know u better

jae’s phone: lol idk y that got kinda sappy ? but i hope everything’s good on ur end!!

jae’s phone: i’ve gotta go to a dance lesson rn tho so ttyl ynieee!!!!

Intak sighed as he forced himself to click out of his and Yn’s direct messages, and to haul his ass off the couch. He had, at multiple instances, contemplated why he felt so attached to Yn. Perhaps it was because she was so close to his brother and this truly was just his own kind of closure. Or it was something else, too.

Yn's eyes burned holes through the notifications that sat at the top of her phone screen. It had been several hours since Intak had sent them, and she knew exactly what they said. She'd even mentally written out and sent several replies, but never physically carried them out. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

The heavy weight that had settled on her chest from a day ago still rested there. Usually, privileged shit Summit kids did to her and in front of her were annoying, but she'd learned to grow thick skin. She didn't know why this time affected her so poorly. Then again, the fact that neither Jongseob nor Shota had gotten over it could have contributed to her own mood, too.

Her brothers in arms had been quiet since then, barely speaking unless necessity prevailed. The shop had never been so quiet before, and even when customers and neighbors came by with a friendly word or joke, they would force a smile onto their faces or a laugh from their throats. She could hear the strain, the grudge and emotions tugging at the corners of their mouths.

"If I had the money…" Yn remembered hearing Jongseob muttering under his breath the night of the incident. She knew exactly what he was thinking then and there. All the bitterness in the negative space.

They'd all grown to have thick skin, but it was bound to crack at some point. They weren't made of steel, after all.

After a long, grueling day at the shop, Yn, Shota, and Jongseob returned to Yn's house to wash up for the evening. The walk home had been quiet, and she'd been itching to reach for her phone and finally open up Intak's messages…

She cleared her throat. "Go get cleaned up and meet me in the living room," she voiced aloud to the two of them as she unlocked the front door.

Jongseob grunted, "Why?"

"We're watching Clueless."

Shota let out a snort as Jongseob threw his head back in a loud groan. "You're shitting me. Any other movie than that one, Yn. We've watched that, like, fifteen times."

With her back still to them, she could let herself smile just a little. All she had been looking for was that reaction from him. "Okay, well, if you can be on the couch in fifteen minutes, then you can choose a different—"

She hadn't even finished what she was saying when the two of them bolted past her, exclaiming at each other as they raced for access to the closest bathroom. Yn laughed under her breath, nudging the door closed behind her with the toe of her shoe. She hadn't even been sure whether or not the two would stay here with her or not since they basically stayed shut up in the old extra bedroom instead of hanging out. Though they would have been in the house, it had sounded like no one else was home.

But now? Yn made her way into the kitchen to get dinner started. Hopefully she could get something on the stove by the time one of them hopped out of the shower. Knowing Jongseob though…

She estimated that it was about five minutes later that Jongseob's elephant stomps sounded down the hall, nearing the living room and kitchen at high speed. Seconds later, a blur of orange and white launched himself over the back of the couch. As she expected, it was Jongseob with that freshly showered glow, damp hair, and a white towel hanging around his shoulders.

Her amused gaze clashed with his, and though his face was pressed into a deadpan, she saw the glimmer in his irises. He told her, "We're watching Star Wars."

Yn grinned. "Deal's a deal, kid."

Right on cue, Shota came sliding into the living room with his dampened locks tied up and out of his face with a Hello Kitty hair tie he no doubt found in the drawers of the bathroom. She wondered how he found stuff like that, stuff that she had ditched so long ago when she was much younger. She raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m starting to think that neither of you actually use soap when you shower.”

“I’m productive when I’m given motive,” Shota replied, collapsing onto the couch next to Jongseob. She could already hear the tell-tale explosion of sound that was the Star Wars main theme.

It was several hours later when dinner was eaten, dishes were washed, and the lot of them were one and a half Star Wars movies in that Yn stared at her notifications again. Intak hadn't sent anything else since those last messages, and there was a distinct feeling of guilt stewing in the back of her brain. At this point, it overpowered any feelings of annoyance or bitterness from the other day's incident. It was always at evening hours when the overthinking started.

Intak had been good to her thus far, though, and it wasn't fair that she took out her annoyance on him. He had done nothing bad—a part of her countered with “yet.”

She could see the start of his messages: That photo's like half your face dude… I've got to go to a dance lesson though so…

It was all completely harmless, and yet, her heart pounded in her chest from not being able to fully read his reaction to her face reveal. Of course she cared what he thought. She chalked it up to the fact that Intak himself was a pretty face, and it was perfectly normal to be self conscious.

Yn raised her head for a moment when she caught a flash of quick movement from the TV, then felt a pair of eyes on her.

While Shota was curled up at the far end of the couch, Jongseob was seated next to her and saw who's messages sat at the top of her screen. The two of them connected gazes; he said nothing, showed nothing.

A different type of guilt rushed into her head.

Jongseob turned back to the screen, and she was back to square one.

The house was quiet by the time Yn tucked her friends beneath quilts on the couch. Her mom had come home sometime between Return of the Jedi and The Phantom Menace, then crashed immediately after disappearing into her room, leaving Yn to haunt the hallways of her house in the dark and silence by herself.

She perched on the edge of her bed with the light of her phone screen illuminating her face. There were those unread messages at the top of her screen again, yelling at her to just take a peak. There was no harm in seeing what he said—but there was. He would see the Read sign beneath his messages and think the worst.

With nothing else stopping her but her own thoughts, she tapped the notification.

The text chain opened up before her in full. There was nothing out of the ordinary, as she expected. He was just being his bright, sweet self here. Her lips pursed into a slight smile as she read over his sappy talk at the end; it was appreciated though.

But now it was a matter of replying.

He probably thought she was busy all day again, but the guilt of “punishing” him for something that people from his community did and not him personally was eating her up inside.

“Ahem.”

She stopped, eyes widening as her head shot up like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. A drowsy Jongseob stood in her doorway with his eyes at half-mast and his mouth widened in a yawn. Sometimes she forgot that her friend was still a kid—that they were all just kids. “Hey,” she whispered to him. “Did I wake you up or something?”

He shook his head and suddenly looked a lot more awake. “The text messages you got earlier,” he drawled, inclining his chin at her phone.

“Oh.” She glanced down at the screen, then back up at him. “Seob, I—”

“He's gonna hurt you, Yn.”

Her chest felt so hollow all of a sudden. What?

He folded his arms in front of himself, cupping his palms under his elbows. Jongseob's eyebrows furrowed together as if in thought or in an attempt to look firm. “He's gonna hurt you like Jae did.”

No, the hollow feeling was because her heart fell into the pit of her stomach. Everything felt like it was falling out from under her with that statement. Yn said slowly, gently, “Jongseob, Jae didn't mean to hurt us. He didn't mean to get sick. He couldn't control it, Seob. You know that that's not fair.”

Sometimes it was hard to not let the anger seep through into blame and misunderstanding. That was just the grief talking. When those thoughts resurfaced, it was just as difficult to deal with the resulting guilt of ever blaming them later on.

Losing someone was just devastating.

Jongseob sniffled though, and she backtracked on her previous thought. But this wasn't that, was it? “Yeah, well—it seems whether they do it on purpose or not, that's all they do up there: hurt people.”

Her mouth felt so dry then, so helplessly wordless. Her throat was just as voiceless. These kids—her friends—had gone through all that pain just as she had. She couldn't blame them most of the time because she knew where they were coming from.

Jongseob poked his tongue in his cheek. “I know you miss him.”

Yn's fingers curled around the edges of her phone, like she could hold onto whoever was on the other side.

“I miss him, too,” he said.

A stinging sensation erupted in the corners of her eyes and she reached up to staunch the tears like they were cuts, and they were bleeding.

“But no matter their intention, a ghost can only haunt,” he muttered. He let that thought simmer for a second before citing his source, “Got that one off of Pinterest.”

The last comment made a laugh sputter out of her mouth, wet but touched. She sniffled at the same time he did. “I was gonna say,” she said, her voice watery, “when'd you get so smart?”

“I've always been smart,” he scoffed. He exhaled, still lingering on the threshold before waddling over to where she was perched on the bed. Awkwardly, he brought his arms around her upper body and gently patted her back. “Is this helping?”

Yn wrapped her arms around him to reciprocate. “Yeah.”

“Thank god.”

A ghost can only haunt. Maybe it was how fast it had all happened that none of them really got proper closure or got to say goodbye. They would never get a chance to see him ever again, to tell him they felt something for him close to love, and enjoyed his company despite his being from the Summit. There was no chance they'd be invited to the funeral, and there was little possibility of ever visiting his grave. There were only memories and a phone number.

One day he was here, and the next… well the next, Yn was texting Intak. Was this history repeating itself, or would this ending turn into a new beginning entirely?

When they both pulled back from their embrace, Jongseob poked her cheek. “You know I never know what to do when you cry, right?”

She reached up to swipe her palm across her dampened cheeks. “Yeah. You did good, kid.”

That made the corners of his mouth curl up a bit. “I just don't want this guy to be another reason you cry.”

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permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @kaaimins @shakalakaboomboo @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @haechansbbg @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101

series taglist: @kikookii @an0rexiccat @yvesrythingg

[prettyniji]

authors note: aaa my first post !!!! hello i am maia and i love silly vtubers so i decided to write for them ! feel free to request anything anytime ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა also im too lazy to learn the html stuff so my post doesn’t look as fancy (╥﹏╥) and i wrote this all on my pc so i hope it doesnt look silly on mobile ......

all writing is mine and mine only !! no reposting ,,, this isnt proofread very well sorry for any mistakes hehe

characters: vox akuma; mysta rias; ike eveland; luca kaneshiro; shu yamino; shxtou

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  luxiem + shoto needy for attention ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ʚɞ vox akuma ʚɞ

i can’t decide if vox would be stubborn about wanting your attention or he would just annoy you till you give him what he wants ....

he would definitely either ominously stare at your from across the room until u ask him what’s wrong, or he would contantly poke your cheeks until you look him in the eyes, in which he then just give you the biggest, cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen he’d be like (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

if you were sitting on the bed on your phone and he had just finished up a stream or playing a game, he would definitely do that cliche thing where he just sighs over and over again until you sigh yourself, look over at ur needy boyfriend and reluctantly ask him what’s wrong.

he would only sigh again and tell you how his partner is paying more attention to their phone than him !! despicable right ? :((( how dare they ! 

OR ! if he’s feeling extra pouty and stubborn he would try to do anything possible to put aside his neediness, playing games with shoto, tweeting weird 5head tweets, but eventually he would get impatient (with a decision he made...) and flop beside you on the bed and lay his head on your lap

he’d grab your hand and force it towards his head, forcing you to play with your boyfriends long hair and fall asleep as you braid his hair, making him realise it would be a lot easier if he just asked for attention hehe (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ 

more under the cut !!

ʚɞ mysta rias  ʚɞ

the fox-like detective would be another one to refuse to ask for your attention, but unlike mr voice demon he’s not stubborn, he just wouldn’t want to bother you :(( 

even if you weren’t doing anything in particular, mysta would still not really want to bother you, so you would have to be the one to approach him. it wouldn’t be hard to notice when mysta’s feeling needy, as he spends a lot of time staring at you, and instantly looking away when you make eye contact with him. he also sits next to you with a sligh gap in between you, fidgeting with his hands trying to form a million plans in his head trying to find ways to make you give him some attention (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

when you eventually notice his nervousness and neediness, doing any simple thing such as grabbing his hand or pulling his head to lie on your shoulder, will make him let out a sigh and mutter a “thank you” 

pls treat him right and give him the attention he needs 24/7 he deserves it (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡

ʚɞ ike eveland  ʚɞ

i can imagine ike being slightly open about being needy for your attention, however he wouldn’t outrightly say it. he would find ways to constantly touch you, such as sitting closer to you than normal and laying your head on his lap as he reads.

ike will have just finished up a long drinking stream, the alcohol in his system making him feel extra warm and cutesy, wanting to be held in your arms (୨୧ ❛ᴗ❛)✧

he would stumble his way towards your shared room to find you lying in bed, and he could already envision cosying up next to you and feeling warm and fuzzy from your undivided attention. 

however, unfortunately for the poor novelist, whatever you were looking at on your phone (he was too jealous to look..) was slightly more important than your tipsy boyfriend. \(๑•́o•̀๑)/ 

ike, now glaring holes into your poor phone, laid his head on your shoulder, his cheeks warm to the touch, and buried his head into the crook of your neck

if that wasn’t enough to grab your full attention, what else was he supposed to do rather than grab your phone and aggressively sit it somewhere behind him on the bed (he didn’t care where, as long as he got your hand in his hair hehe)  

the second you let out a laugh and wrap your arm around your slighly dizzy tipsy boyfriend, you feel him sigh against your neck and plant a small kiss against you (୨୧ᵕ̤ᴗᵕ̤)

peace at last for the drunk novelist !!!

ʚɞ luca kaneshiro  ʚɞ

our big mafia boss is just about the biggest cuddle bug around around would not be afraid to jump into your arms whenever he feels he hasn’t had enough attention from you ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡

if you were slighly busy with work on a laptop or something, he would lather himself all over you like a koala and whine about how much he wishes he was your laptop in his next life so he could lie on your lap peacefully.

he’d bury his head in your neck so far you could smell his shampoo, and place kisses all over your neck trying his hardest to tickle you to make you give him the tiniest sliver of attention 

big scary mafia boss would wrap his arms around you and slowly close your laptop like a cat that’s hoping you don’t notice him (very obviously) dramatically closing your laptop —ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ —

when you snuggle into his hair asking what’s gotten him so cuddly, he simply whines “babyyyyy you haven’t paid me any attention to me on my day off!! if it’s my day off that means it’s your day off too” /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ

and if you somehow resist the cute mafia boss you must have all the strength in the world to turn down his puppy dog eyes .... because i wouldn’t be able to i’d jump to give him all the attention in the world hehe

ʚɞ shu yamino  ʚɞ

the cutest sorcerer in the world would probably start feeling needy after playing games on stream for a while, but he’s not the type to end stream because of his neediness. why would he when he can just make you come to him? ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

shu knew you were doing your own work in a different room so he’d text you to bring all your stuff into his room, not replying when you ask why

when you quietly enter his room hearing him talk to his chat, you see a space next to his desk that’s been obviously cleared to fit all of your work, and a chair sat next to his.

smiling like a dummy at your boyfriend clearing his desk mid stream just so you can sit next to him, you sit and immediately see him judge how far your chair is from his, and pull you closer to him.

STILL smiling like a dummy your try your hardest to go back to your work but cant find the ability to focus when your boyfriend woke up today and decided to be the cutest man on earth, his hand tracing random shapes on your thigh and his shoulder touching yours.

as soon as shu finishes up his stream you decide you can spare some time to give attention to the most cat-like sorcerer in the world, who immediately turns to you and gives you the brightest smile you need to look away before you go blind ପ૮๑ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ๑ აଓ 

“are you almost done love? do you wanna watch some movies when you’re free?” and it’s impossible to say no to your boyfriend who looks like hes about to jump out his seat the second you say yes <3

ʚɞ shoto  ʚɞ

this boy is the human reincarnation of a puppy,so when he’s needy you can count on the fact he will follow you around everywhere you go, asking “where are you going baby?” everytime you so much as lift a finger to go get food or leave the room at all !

your boyfriend would practically have his hypothetical tail wagging back and forth the second you even look at him ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა

he would chat your ear off talking about anything and everything, slowly inching closer and closer to you until he’s sitting in your lap, arms wrapped around your neck, kissing all over your face and grabbing your hands to put them around him. 

shoto would kiss every part of your body he could reach, talking about how much he misses you and bargaining anything to make you pay attention to him, even though he doesnt need to bargain anything since who wouldn’t pay attention to the cutest boy ever ??

your hyper boyfriend would lay his entire body on you and invite you to play games with him or watch any anime he can think of, telling you that you should take a break after working for so long, even if you are simply working on a hobby rather than work stuffs ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

as soon as you close your laptop and pat his legs to get him off you, he gets up and grabs your hand, dragging you to bed to watch all your favourites as you cuddle him like a big teddy ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

thank you for reading !! have a good day ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡

[thatdeadaquarius]

I have so many ideas but none of them can be put into words, all I can do is just wheeze as they come along🤣

Also remember how wordy and flowery Teyvat speech/dialogue is? ADD THAT TO THE FACT THAT TEYVAT HAS ITS OWN LANGUAGE---

Reader can understand the basic speech which is why they are so blunt (I love this idea so much 🤣) and can piece together an idea what the person is talking about.

*insert random person talking about a commission with a long ass backstory*

Traveller & Co.: *understands completely and making plans to retrieve said commission*

C!Reader: (They said they had a cart.... a bunch of hilichurls appeared... dancing?.... they want us to dance fight the hilichurls???? Dance off???)

Actual story->The person's cart got ambushed by a group of hilichurls and taunted them by dancing around it.

....... it doesnt always translate well

Also imagine Reader heaeing random names and overthinks it as a word instead of a name.

Example: Pantalone means pants in Philippine English (sorry not sorry Pantalone)

Tsaritsa??? Oh do they speak russian there??? - reader

Capitano -> captain in some countries

(I once mistake Sandrone as Sandalone and I just went "... ehh??? Standalone? Sandalone as in Sand Alone???? Sandal (Flip flops)????

Oh wait its Sandrone" ".... as in Sand and Drone??--)

-Vine Boom

VINE BOOM ANON MY BELOVED 💖❤🧡💛💚💙💜✨️✨️

Gif is me writing u anything ever:

AHFLALA FERRRALLL I STG I ALSO THOUGHT ABT THIS!! WHY U COULD ALSO BE BLUNT BC U ONLY GOT THE BASICS 💀 RIP

Man theyre written language looks so scary to learn, kinda like when I looked into trying to learn Mandarin/Japanese (and even Korean), the letters r just inherently so different i was so intimidated

And u dont even read it like left -> right like English

Omg i tried to reply to a arabic comment on my art post once, and i felt so acommplished when i finally was able to type "اشكرك (thanks)" but like, i had to put it on the OTHER SIDE OF THE TEXT BOX, LIKE ALIGN IT TO THE RIGHT INSTEAD OF HOW U KNOW ENGLISH IS INHERENTLY ALIGNED LEFT, IT WAS SO TRIPPY-

Going thru genshin life only understanding minimal words of anything anyone says is honestly how i feel like ive been playing Genshin LMAO

Those analysis videos/lore are saving a bitch's life out here

PANTALONE IS ALSO RLLY CLOSE TO SPANISH FOR PANTS I KNOW WHAT U MEANNN LOL

UR ENDLESS CONFUSION FOR SANDRONE PLEASE ANON U DIDNT EVEN GET IT RIGHT THE FIRST CORRECTION IT JUST KEPT GETTING WORSEEE 😂😭 SAME THO

That would literally be you in genshin tho, like i could easily see it being like, back to back misunderstandings 😭😭

Like u think u got it right (Oh so his name is Rex Lapis, wait what? Morax? Ok his name is Morax...?? What??? Zhongli??? WHO IS THIS MAN-)

.

JFC first they gotta have a whole different language (like u saw in game)

And ON TOP OF THAT THEY CAN TALK FOR 10 MIN STRAIGHT ABT THE WEATHER OR SOME SHIT??

No... just, no.

U quickly decide u like what little bits of language u could pick up so far, which just results in,

U guessed it, simple speech and short fragmented sentences (or broken Teyvatian)

U cant even bring urself to care when u give half the characters a heart attack and send the rest into laughing fits

No fucks given, they wanna make this extra hard on u by being wordy on top of a new language,

Yeah u dont care what comes out of ur mouth anymore

Also, since everybody is raised in Teyvat very few ppl dont know the language, which once again brings us back to ancient/older deities/creatures who have a more simplistic version/outdated version of modern language

.

Omg getting stuff mistranslated bc u cant understand it all/only keywords sounds like hell but also rlly funny

Traveler/Paimon: "Alright, yes, all is well. We will accept this comission, and depart soon."

You: "...they want us to?? Dance fight?? Hilichurls...???"

Traveler just stares at u half in pity, half trying to hide their amused smile, Paimon is giggling

The commissioner is shook bc a supposed ancient creature?? Just accepted?? Their simple commission?? And u think they want u to dance battle???

.

PLEASE U MISTRANSLATE THE HARBINGERS NAMES RIGHT TO THEIR FACES

Signora: "You shall rue the day you crossed the Fatui mortals!"

You: "Lady we don't care, just fight us."

(Signora just means 'Lady')

Signora: *offended gasp*

Traveler/Paimon trying to stifle laughter

Raiden Shogun jaw dropped a little

.

Pantalone: "What a pleasure to finally meet you traveler, and thine wonderful companions!" *little bastard smile*

You: "And it was awful to meet you, Pants."

Pantalone: 😶😧😡 "Pants?! HOW DARE YOU NOT EVEN GIVE ME THE MOST BASE RESPECT, AFTER I GREETED THEE SO KINDLY-"

.

Oh its so funny, everytime you talk about Childe you always phrase it like he's an actual child bc u thought everyone was just calling him a little kid for some reason (u dont know how Teyvat ages work, he could be for all you know!)

Not very long, but Vine Boom anon your brain >>>>

Ur ideas r so on point, i love them sm

That makes perfect sense why u could be talking blunt too, like an in world explanation really

For you, all the desserts🥰 🤲🍪🍨🍰🍮🧋🍦🍡

Cheers,

🌒🌊🌧Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Hi 👋 I'm the one who asked for a part two of the flirt yuu 😄 if u can that is 😁 thank you ans wonderful writer u are 💓

Flirty Bastard! Yuu With The First Years (No Ortho)

Vicewardens will come soon I am just waiting for bastard inspiration. Slight feral yuu in Ace and Epels. Slight angst in Deuces and Jacks if u squint

Gn reader

Ace

"...The worst Prefect ever!" Huh? " Maybe you should go back to kindergarten before attending university!” Oh, that hit a nerve… “Anyways… unlike you, I actually have classes to get to. Good luck, janitor prefect!" The Redhead sticks his tongue out in a teasing manner.

The cocky glint in his eyes deflates when he goes to turn away and Yuu grabs him by the face. The prefect leans in close, squishing his cheeks slightly as it's their turn to look down at him with a half-lidded gaze and cocky grin. Shit, why was his heart pounding.

Beyond the very convincing forced calm they wore, Ace could tell there was absolute detest behind those eyes. “My my…” Their voice was silky smooth and so comforting… “Thank you for teaching me about the seven, Ace. You’re quite the sweetheart!~” A flirty tone escapes their throat, making Ace go red like the heart painted on his eye.

Ace's face falls further as he yanks himself out of Yuu’s hand looking at the stranger as if they’ve lost it. “D-Did you not hear me or something?! I said you're the worst!” Ace sputters flusteredly, shooting his arms up defensively.” “Oh I heard, I just didn’t care… It's just so hard to be upset when the person berating you is quite the looker!”

Yuu shoots a wink. “You know some people are into that…” Yuu's expression drops from teasing to a much more serious and disgusted one, yet their smirk remains. “You’re fucking weird!” Ace pushes the student away, not expecting them to catch his wrist. Fuck, why was that attractive to him? 

“Oh, what a shame our first fight is not going to be in the sheets… oh well…” The manic look in their eyes tells everything Ace needed to know as they popped their neck. It was the same look that one eel bastard gave people before he’d beat people up. “This is gonna be fun” Yuu purrs out, laughing soon after as they let go of Ace's wrist to crack their knuckles. They were going to put this brat in their place.

Jack

He, unfortunately, met Yuu during book two. Jack hates it when people act too friendly. And here Yuu was being flirty. “Ooo~ So you’re the strong, silent type I guess. That’s fun.” Seriously, Yuu threw him off at first, but despite their strong personality, he had to admit, they were reliable, and with a good head on their shoulders.

He gets flustered with every remark you make and usually becomes defensive quickly afterward, much to your amusement. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have entered the room of someone who loves to tease him so heavily. The wolf just wanted to make sure you and Grim got up in time, and now here he was backed into a corner.

“Well, well, well, a big bad wolf breaking into a poor magicless human's room, how scandalous!” “I didn’t mean to—“ “I could have been naked! Or perhaps were you looking forward to that?” “No! I’m-! Ugh—“ “Oh I am just an innocent little human, in a new world no less! I could never fight back against someone as well-built as you and your wolfishly good looks!”

Jack’s ears are pressed flat against his skull as Yuu sits up, the blanket being the only thing covering them. No way, were they actually— The human corners the wolf in their room, the poor boy so confused and flustered on what to do. The human looks at him and tilts their head.

“Just messing with you!~” Yuu drops the blanket to show a tank top that matches their skin underneath. A shit-eating grin was plastered on their face as Jack's face burned. The human laughs at Jack’s expression as the flop back on the bed.

"Oh, that was so good! Ahaha!” Yuu pretends to wipe away a tear and looks back at Jack. “Though I will say, for you, I am more than willing to show—“ “N-no thanks, I need to go now.”

Epel

Everyone reacted differently to Yuu’s flirtations. Some indulge, and others avoid. It’s the perfect mask that protects the true Yuu from harm, their flirtations merely a shield from everyone around them. A shield that no one could break through, no matter how hard some try. The key word is try, as there is now a purple twink trying to swing at them.

The reason behind Epel’s violent actions wasn't even for the flirtation itself. It was because Yuu called him ‘Cutie’. Cutie of all things! He’s not cute! He’s a strong and badass man, he’ll show them! Surely by putting them in their place, he would never be called cute again.

Throwing a punch, Yuu merely sidestepped. He threw another, then another, then a kick, not a single hit landed on them. That stupid amused look on their face annoyed Epel to no end. Putting his all into a punch, he freezes when he feels Yuu catch his arm.

They pause and examine it for a while, before their pupils dilate and they pull the boy over their head, slamming them into the grass much to Epels surprise. The wind was knocked out of his lungs as Yuu kneels onto his chest. The look on their face was absolutely unhinged and feral as they examined Epel.

“Well don't you look good beneath me! That was so fun~” The smirk on their face grows wider as their eyes dilate again. “Can we play a little more? It would be so fun!~” “Get th’ hell off me you psycho!” “Awe, your no fun.”

The student gets off Epel, yanking him to stand on his two feet. The freshman immediately squares up ready for a fight, just to watch the person from before look unamused, folding their arms behind their head as they slink off.

“Wh?! Hey, get back here!” “Oh? Up for round two already?” That stupid smirk was back. Epel swore he would one day smack it off of them.

Deuce

Sigh… Sometimes he would get flustered at the dumbest one-liner. Other times, you could dedicate an entire romantic, raunchy love poem to him and he would never notice. Because of this, it is not worth it to try and fluster him intentionally.

Instead, small teasing gestures and genuine compliments are what will always get Deuce flustered. The spade ran to his best friend, waving his test. “Yuu! Yuu! Look!” Deuce lit up showing off his score. 81/100. His first B in Trein’s class. 

“I did it! I did it! I-I mean, we did it. If it wasn’t for your tutoring, I would have never passed, so um, thank you, Yuu-Senpai! Is there any way I can repay you at all?” Deuce's smile could light up the whole room, his happiness was so infectious that even Yuu began to let a genuine smile grace their features.

“The only thing I need of you is to keep that beautiful smile of yours, Spade.“ “H-huh?!” The ex-delinquent face became pink, bewildered blue eyes staring into Yuu's. “Pfft, just messin with ya, duh! … But seriously though, you don't owe me anything. Seeing my friends happy is enough…” 

Deuce’s face was still a bit pink as he hid his face behind his sleeve, taking a deep breath to soothe himself. At that moment with his soft, flustered expression did Yuu start to go off into the deep end. If only they weren’t such a flirt, maybe they could call Deuce theirs.

Sebek

“ENOUGH WITH YOUR SHAMELESS FLIRTATIONS HUMAN! I WILL NOT BE DISTRACTED FROM MY DUTY OF PROTECTING MALLEUS BECAUSE OF YOU!” Yuu held back a snort. Sebek was so fun to rile up.

The croco-fae stands sternly with more of a stick up his ass than ever. “Aw, what will it take for me to be your new priority, hmm?~” Sebek looks offended at the human in front of him, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “A mere human like you will never be more important than Waka-Sama!” A smirk rises to his face. “You wish you could even have half of his glory!”

"Sooo… you're into goths is what I am hearing?” Sebek's face dropped. “Pardon?” “You’re into goths then?” “I am NOT ‘into goths’ as you say!” Sebek was fuming.

“Oh okay, so you're just into Malleus, got it! Good luck asking him out then!” “YOU LOWLY HUMAN!!!” Yuu was then yelled at for 3 hours.

Yuuken

"Don’t” Your roommate said to you. “I wasn’t even going to do anything!” Yuuken raised a brow at Yuu, stoic expression barely changing. “You were going to flirt with me, weren't you?” The house warden gave a disappointed and half-hearted glare to the Vice.

“I wasn’t, I swear!” “…” “Okay fine! But you are attractive though, I mean can you blame me?!” Yuuken just sighs, pulling out his kendo stick for practice later that day. “If you feel like ogling, you might as well join me.”

Yuuken hands Yuu a spare stick. “Well, are you joining or not?” Flirting does not work on the stoic himbo who’s too overworked for his own good.

[bennizone]

How do you deal with starting out posting art and it going kinda rough? I work really hard and it only gets two likes and then just sinks to the bottom of tags within a few days. It kinda kills my drive to make anything.

(I've been away for the holidays, havent had time to answer these!! might be from the same person? either way,)

I didn't get much traction in the beginning either - I remember getting 1-2 likes, too. It definitely feels really disheartening. I'm trying to remember what helped...Here's my thoughts:

1: whenever you see art that you like, COMMENT! especially on art from artists that are the same place as you, yanno, just starting out and/or their art journey is at a similar point. It helps sooo much to not only see BIG POPULAR NAMES on your dash all the time, so try to mingle with people that are gonna resonate with you on an even level.. It's more healthy to feel invested in online art because you share growth and exploration with others alongside you, rather than racing against people who already are super established following-wise or expertise-wise.

2: Why are you posting? I want to spark passion, joy, and inspiration in others!!! when I stay true to those words, my art seems to reach more people, because my soul is in it, which resonates better = more people like it and share it! It sounds like you're already putting a lot of effort in, so that's awesome, try your best not to lose the spark of joy. Take a break if it gets too rough, and try to clear ur head and return to the mindset of WHY you're posting in the first place. And pls don't be afraid to change your purpose if you ever want to, let urself evolve, it's normal! 3: I used to get 1-5 likes, and now I get an average of 100-300 on twitter and tumblr (sometimes i get more if my post suddenly gains traction but yanno)... and, on Insta (which I only started using recently, but ofc some ppl followed from other platforms) it's more like 15-60 on average. Some people would consider these numbers miniscule... I don't consider any of my posts "flops", I just have a smaller audience than some other artists. Also, I almost only draw OC-art, so it's more niche...... All that to say, give it time, especially if you havent figured out your Goal yet and you're still trying to figure out why you're posting/what kinda posts you wanna share, or if your art is kinda niche. There's a lot of reasons why you might still not have a lot of reach.

recap: If you manage to find some sorta goal and you interact with peers, and try to remind yourself you're still growing, I think you'll get to a place where u feel more satisfied! i wish you lotsa luck, this stuff is hard. the internet can feel pretty hostile tbh, please never blame/shame yourself from feeling sad sometimes, cus it's rly unfair. We just have to do what we can and try to stay true to ourselves!!!

this got rly long, i hope it's helpful to anybody who read it!! love u all!!!! xoxo benni

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Everything Just Stops

Roy Kent x F!Reader

1.6k words

Warnings: Smutty smut, language

A/N: Inspired by that picture of Brett and his thighs. Please be nice; smut is hard (teehee)

“What d’you mean you’ve never been camping?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “I’ve never been camping,” he repeated. His gruff voice sounded exasperated; not surprising, since you’d incredulously asked him this question a couple of times now. “Dunno how else to say it. What, were my coaches supposed to take me? ‘Oi, let’s go folic in a fucking meadow and count stars and piss on trees.’”

That’s how you ended up in the middle of the forest, nestling your back against Roy’s chest, watching the dancing flames of the campfire as the stars twinkle above you. The two of you had spent the afternoon setting up your campsite and going for scenic walks in the wood, and Roy had impressed you with his ability to make a halfway decent campfire. Now you leaned against him, wearing his old Sunderland hoodie, hand dreamily stroking his bare thigh, grateful for the shorts he’s wearing.

You love Roy’s legs. Strong and muscular, eternally tanned from all those years of training and running in the sun, and right now that dark, thick hair on his legs feels like heaven between your fingers. You’re slightly obsessed, and the man knows it. He must, considering the way his thigh flexes beneath your grasp.

“Should we head on in?” he asks quietly, nodding towards your tent.

“Sure,” you answer, your voice just as soft, despite your total isolation.

Once the fire is out, the two of you retreat to the little tent, the one that Roy had complained was too small during the afternoon; now, you’re sure he can agree with you that its size provides a romantic coziness.

Roy flops onto the pile of blankets that took up most of the tent floor, flipping onto his back as you join him. You lay on your stomach, bringing your face to his chest so you can gaze up at him. He offers that small smile of his as he slips his hand up the back of your sweatshirt to rub your bare skin with his thumb.

“You take your other boyfriends camping?”

His blunt question catches you off-guard. “I’ve gone camping with lots of people,” you mumble, scrunching your eyebrows.

He nods. “Including old boyfriends?”

“A couple,” you admit.

“Hmmph.” He pauses, his hand sliding further down your back. “You ever… y’know… in the tent?”

You try to keep your voice casual, although your face is growing warm. “Nah.”

“Hmmph,” Roy repeats, the pressure of his thumb increasing as he stares at you carefully. “Interesting.”

He props himself on his elbows and tugs you upwards until you’re straddling him. His fiery eyes pierce yours, setting your skin aflame; you know that look. You know it well. Sure enough, Roy pulls your face to his, pressing his mouth to yours, hungrily kissing you as his hands flitter down to your waist. When his tongue sweeps against your lips, you instinctively grind your hips down, not caring about playing hard to get. Not with Roy.

He's not making you wait either. He breaks the kiss only to tug off the sweater and your shirt in one fell swoop, dropping them quickly so his hands can return to your waist and his mouth can begin its attack on your neck. His kisses are rough, sloppy, the kind that make your whole body buzz with the memory of the other things he can do with that mouth.

“Roy,” you whine, feeling his stiffness against you, again thankful for the thin shorts he’s wearing.

“What is it, darling?” he purrs against your collar; you can feel his smirk. “Need something?” He loves to tease you like this, calling you all kinds of pet names, acting like he doesn’t know just how mad he drives you.

But two can play at that game.

You reach down and tug at his t-shirt, pulling it haphazardly over his head so it can join the growing pile of clothes. Your thighs squeeze at his waist, desperate to bring him closer, and you let your hands grip his biceps, the feeling of your nails digging in being more than enough to get Roy bucking up to you with a soft groan.

“Fuck,” he hisses before letting his tongue slide across your neck, as if he’s trying to get revenge. “Why the fuck are your shorts still on?”

One of your hands finds his hair and grips tight as you chuckle. “Could ask you the same question,” you mumble, enjoying the guttural growl he lets out as you tug his curly locks.

You’re not sure how he does it so quickly, but in a flash two pairs of shorts are tossed to the corner of the tent, leaving Roy in his boxers and you in a pair of panties that are clear evidence that you were very much counting on this turn of events. He brings a hand to your back and swiftly your bra is tossed aside as well. Roy’s eyes are glued to your bare chest, eyebrows raised as if he hasn’t seen this exact sight dozens of times now.

His hand is immediately on your breast, big and warm and strong as it squeezes and caresses, taking special care to knead your nipple until it hardens. “Fuck,” he groans again, pulling you down so his mouth can take over, his tongue and teeth attacking each breast in turn until they’re red and slobbery.

He flips you onto your back, situating himself between your already trembling legs. When you feel the pressure of his hard on, you let out a soft moan, the sound encouraging him to roll his hips again. “Oh, do we like that?” he teases, his smile turning devilish. Apparently moaning isn’t enough. “Use your words, sweetheart,” he instructs, his mocking voice holding just enough sweetness to keep from being mean.

“Love it,” you manage to huff out, letting your legs wrap around him, desperate for the friction he’s providing.

“This good enough? Should we stop here then?”

He knows the answer before he even asks the question.

Your nip at his bare shoulder should be enough of a reply, but he did tell you to use your words. “Fuck no,” you giggle before you suck on the spot you’ve just bitten.

“Good,” he growls, yanking down your underwear, letting the material settle on your thighs. You sigh deeply as his fingers set to work: two fingers gather your slick before slowly stroking your already throbbing clit, his eyes trained on your face with that mouthwatering intensity.

An expert when it comes to your body, Roy quickens his pace, the shaking of your legs an indication of how close you are. Instinctively, he moves from your clit to your entrance, slowly burying his fingers inside you. It’s a delicious burn as you welcome him, your head tilting back as your eyes screw shut.

But Roy doesn’t like that.

“Need you to look at me,” he grunts; complete putty at his touch, you obey, eyes heavy as you try to focus on his gaze.

A haziness overcomes your brain, rendering you only capable of rocking your hips against his hand and chanting his name as if it were the words to your favorite song. He praises you through your earthshattering high, with mutterings of “That’s my girl” and “Fucking love how you sound” whispered into your ear. Your body is limp and your forehead is soaked with sweat- and you’ve never been more beautiful to Roy.

“Think you could handle a bit more?” he cheeks as he draws his fingers out of you, bringing the soaking digits to his mouth. The little pop as he pulls them back out has you nodding desperately.

“Please, yes, Roy, yes,” you babble, only one large thing on your still foggy mind.

He tugs his boxers down, eliciting a shuddering whimper from your swollen slips as you feel his hot tip brush against you. He positions himself at your entrance, watching your face as he slowly thrusts inside you.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls, his voice strangled. “Look at you, you fucking gorgeous thing.”

Gorgeous. That word is the telltale sign Roy’s a goner; it’s almost as if it’s the only word he knows when he’s inside you. Not that you’re much better, since apparently the only words you know right now are yes and Roy.

Once he feels you clenching around him and the little tug you give his hair, it’s game over. He sets a steady, rough pace, thrusting and driving into you, his breath becoming more uneven with each stroke. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, your body in love with the feeling of this man inside you, splitting you open and making you his.

You don’t last long, not this time. Your vision goes white as your orgasm overtakes you, nonsense tumbling out of your mouth.

“Doing so fucking well. Y’look fucking perfect,” Roy praises, a drop of sweat from his curly hair landing on your cheek. “Gorgeous girl, what d’you want?”

“Inside me,” is all you can manage as you spasm underneath him, completely fucked out. “Need to feel it.”

Roy nods, dripping more sweat onto your forehead. “Almost there, gorgeous,” he promises. “Almost fucking there for you.”

With one more tug of his locks and your whining “Please, Roy”, you send him over the edge. With a shiver, he erupts inside you, that familiar feeling of his climax overwhelming you. With a soft groan, he collapses on top of you, while you relish the wonderfully sticky feeling between your thighs.

The tent is filled with heavy, ragged breaths as Roy gazes at you with nothing short of complete adoration, the tired ghost of a smile on his face. “Fuck,” he whispers. “We should come camping more often.”