#and I just can't wrap my mind around that

[hairmetal666]

They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.

Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.

The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.

To Metallica.

And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.

"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."

"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.

"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"

He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.

"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.

"Well, Dio's pretty okay."

This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.

---

Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.

"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.

Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"

He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.

"You want chips?" He asks.

"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.

"What?"

"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."

And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.

"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"

Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--

"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."

"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."

He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.

---

"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.

"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.

"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.

"Wha--huh?" He blinks.

"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."

"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.

Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.

"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.

"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.

Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.

---

Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.

He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.

Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.

A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.

---

It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.

There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."

He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"

Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"

Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."

"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"

"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."

"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."

Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."

"Of course. It's just--this is just you."

He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."

"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.

He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.

The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"

"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."

He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."

"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.

He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."

"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.

He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.

It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.

"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.

"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"

Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."

"Yeah?"

"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."

"Well, stick around for a while."

Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."

[reiderwriter]

Satisfaction Feels Like a Distant Memory

Chapter Three of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Your mounting attraction to Spencer Reid pushes you to the edge, turning begrudging friendship to deep hatred when he finally shows up on your doorstep. He's the only thing that can out you out of your misery even as you sink further into it.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, hate sex, rough sex, argument as foreplay, oral (f recieving) and face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasms, "forced" submission, creampie, p in v penetrative sex, etc.

A/N: I've had about as much sleep as the reader in this fic has for the last week, but HERE IT IS! Chapter Three 🥰 You may need a bottle of water on standby, or at least a hand fan, because this one gets a bit heated....

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist!

You hesitated in front of your office door, which you supposed was going to become a bad habit of yours now. You tried lying to yourself, that nothing was different now, that you weren't attracted to him in a completely stupid way, but you still stood frozen in front of your own office door. 

Frozen and horny. 

Shit. 

You mentally went through a list of the worst things that could happen if you went in. 

1. He was there. 

2. He wasn't there. 

3. He was there, and he touched you again, and you moaned. 

4. He was there, and he didn't touch you again, but you still moaned. 

5. He was there, and you threw yourself at him immediately because why wouldn't you when you'd seen what you could be working with the night before? Fuck moaning once, moaning multiple times as he pushed you against the bookshelf would- 

“Are you gonna go in, or are you just going to fondle the door handle?” He asked from behind you. From too close behind you. 

You turned, keeping the doorknob in your grin, and immediately flattened yourself against the door as he took a step closer. 

So close. He was so fucking close and it was suddenly all you could think of. 

“W-What?”

“You know, the CDC warns that door handles should be washed every 20 to 40 hours To prevent bacteria like Escherchia coli and Staphylococcus aureus from-” You ignored his words, drowning everything else out as you tried to dampen the fire burning under your skin.

“Cock?” You said, all attempts obviously not working. 

“Staphylococcus, yes. It can cause Adenovirus, Rhinovirus, not to mention-” 

“Okay! Okay, Spencer. Taking my hand off the handle now.” 

Finally, you twisted it and walked backwards into your room, walking backwards a few steps before your foot caught on a stray pile of books. 

“What the-” you cried, waiting for the impact of your landing as you swung out your arms frantically for purchase, screwing your eyes shut as you found none. 

Instead, you found an arm snaked around your waist, another wrapping your hip tight as Spencer Reid cradled your body to his own. 

“Thanks,” you breathed out, not even hearing the words yourself for how much air was in them. How was it possible to expel air and hold your breath at the same time? Because that was how it felt being in his arms: at once a sigh and a stopping of all bodily functions barring want. 

“I thought this was your office, Y/N. Surely you should know the layout by now.”

Moment over. You pushed at his chest to stand upright, and he stepped backwards, removing his hands from your person. 

“Very funny. We both know these are your books. Setting traps for me now, Spencer?” 

You moved around the piles of books again as he flicked the light switch, moving the opposite way around your desks, before meeting you again next to yours. 

“You're usually more observant than this. Is there something wrong today?” 

“What, like Adenovirus or Rhinovirus?” 

“No, like something…” he searched for the right words, pace slowing as he tried not to scare you away by talking with you like this.

“Like something on your mind.” 

You snorted, leaning down to switch on your computer, and also to avoid his eye contact. Unfortunately, academic curiosity had gotten to you in the last few weeks, and you'd read some of his psychological papers. You knew exactly what it was the BAU was apparently so good at, and you didn't want him to know that you'd imagined him balls deep in you hours before. 

“Not friends, Spencer. If there's something I need to talk about, I'll talk to a friend,” you said, standing straight again and turning to him again. You still avoided eye contact, but it didn't matter. His eyes weren't on your face but angled further down, like he'd been checking out your ass as you bent over or something. 

No. No, you weren't going down that train of thought. 

“Or even better, my therapist.” You were planning on the words being a bit more playful, but your voice came out deeper than you expected it, more gravely somehow. 

Your bedroom voice, you were using your stupid fucking bedroom voice on Spencer Reid. 

You cut yourself off again before you said anything else. Before he touched you or didn't touch you, and you got to test your earlier theory about which would be the more demeaning reaction. 

“I have class in ten. Clean up before I get back,” you ordered, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when he replied. 

“I don't take direction well, Y/N.” 

No, you didn't think he would. Neither did you though.

For a week, you tiptoed around the man, your words sharp, but your body weak to him. 

By day, you were hurling insults back and forth, messing up his papers and screwing with him via bookshelf again. 

“YOUR…FLY…IS….OPEN.” 

“VERY….MATURE.”

“MADE…YOU…LOOK…THOUGH.”

“BUSY….LOOKING…AT…OTHER….THINGS.”

“LIKE…THE…UNDERGRADS…THROWING…THEMSELVES…AT…YOU…?”

“LIKE…THE…PROFESSOR…I'M APPARENTLY…DATING” 

“Very fucking funny, Spencer,” you sighed at the last message, throwing the books off the shelf and pilling them up on the floor. 

“Don't even for a second entertain the idea of making that gossip a reality.” 

He grinned at you from behind his desk. 

“Okay.”

“Don't even - don't even think about it,” you said, stepping over his desk and poking at his chest as his smile deepened.

“Heard.” 

“I'm serious, Spencer, don't-” 

“You've thought about it.” You froze in shock at his words, as if your blood wasn't sure whether to run cold or burn hot and fast. 

“What?” You spat the words at him, unable to stop them coming out any other way. 

“You've thought about entertaining the gossip. You've thought about it a lot.” 

You needed to deny him, but he was right. By day, you tried to torment him, but by night, he did torment you. A week of wet dreams, of imagining him taking you over every inch of your office, of sleepless rest and failed orgams, and you could not escape. 

“No,” you said with a whisper, shaking your head and trying again even as your voice cracked from the lie and your body's cry for pleasure, for this man. 

“No, I haven’t- I don't-” You took a deep breath, but you knew it was no good, as his hand grabbed yours and flattened it against his chest. 

“Your pupils are dilated, your pulse is heightened, and your legs are practically clamped shut. Your mouth is dry, and I'm not sure if you've noticed yet, Y/N, but you're shaking.” 

“All signs of anger, Spencer, as you're well aware.” 

He let go of your wrist and sat back in his seat, just out of reach of you again. 

“Shame,” he whispered under his breath, nearly low enough that you didn't catch it, as he flipped open his book and continued whatever the fuck it was he even did in this office. 

You ignored it, anger really flooding you now, warring the heat of arousal that was firmly settled in your body for dominance. 

The anger won out. 

You grabbed books from your desk, files, and papers from the side table by the couch and your laptop from your desk and left the room quickly. 

You slammed the door, and you didn't look back, knowing that if you did, you'd see his winning smirk staring right back at you.

You marched yourself right to the staff administration office and put in for a week of leave. Spencer had one more week of work at the university, and then he would go back to being a regular FBI agent. 

Your paths wouldn't cross because you wouldn't let them cross, not when it meant for certain that you would give in.

You spent the week working to distract yourself from work. You finished books for your next semester courses, highlighting the better articles and essays to use, going through each bibliography to find better sources if they weren't good enough. You wrote more of a research paper you didn't have time to think about with so much going on. You corresponded with students, with TAs, with the other professors who wanted to know where you were. 

Okay, that was a lie. You aired the professors, but you did look out for any inboxes from him. Surprisingly, there were none. 

You spent a week throwing yourself head first into your work, and still, each night, you felt his phantom touch on you. No matter how exhausted, your brain still co jured images of his hands grasping your wrists, pushing them above your head and forcing his cock into you, his lips biting against your skin, the fire of his kisses leaving scars where they trailed down. 

You were running on three hours of sleep per night, sure, but at least you were as far as you could possibly get from the man ruining your life. 

You poured yourself a glass of wine the next Sunday, knowing that when you went back to work the next day, he'd be gone.

You wrapped yourself in blankets and put everything else off for the day, ordering food and eating it and not moving as you worked your way through boxes of pizza. 

It was when you finished your first glass and went to pour yourself another that there was a furious pounding at your door. 

“Y/N, I know you're in there, open the door.” His hand sounded again, and you nearly dropped the glass at the sound of Apencer Reid's voice. 

Your body acted alone, immediately following his directions as you damn near tripped over your own feet to open the door for him. 

Throughout all of your arguments, all of the quips you'd thrown at him, every stupid little thing you'd done to get under his skin, you had not once seen Spencer Reid looking this angry. 

His brow was furrowed uncomfortably, as if it were frozen in place. Gone was his perpetual smirk. 

“Spencer, what the fuck a-” 

“Thoughtless. Careless. Do you even know what you've done?” He snapped at you, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind himself as he immediately walked into your space and began touching things.

“Stop! Fucking stop it, Spencer!” You said grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face you. He brushed you off quickly and worked his way through papers you'd left on your coffee table. 

“No. You stormed out over a week ago, you blocked my number, you did not answer any of my emails-” 

“I didn't get any emails,” you spit back, pushing yourself between him and your things now, bodies so close they were touching. 

“Then you blocked my email, too. You don't even know what I'm looking for or the damage you could have done, do you?” His hands were on you then, not threateningly, as you'd expect, his anger still burning through him if his shaking voice had anything to say for it. 

His hands stroked up your sides and back down again, smoothing away your need to think. 

“My files. My team sent me a file. It was on the coffee table, and you took it with you when you left. The case is ongoing, and I'm flying out tomorrow, and without some of the classified information in that file, we will be at a disadvantage. Our odds of catching our unsub fall from 83% to 47% without all of the pertinent information.” 

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. 

“So yes, I'm going to go through your things, and if you're a good girl, you'll root through with me and help me find it.” 

He stepped away then, and you held your tongue. As much as you hated him, he was right. You knew what he did, you knew who he was and to trust him not to lie to you about his chances without this information. 

“The files on the coffee table are research notes, everything I took from the office is in that case over there,” you said pointing at a bag still where you'd dropped it by the door a week earlier. 

He walked to it and rooted through it quickly before finding the file he obviously needed and letting some of the tension out of his shoulders. 

“You're probably glad to see the back of me, right?” He said, laughing bitterly as he turned back around to you. 

“Obviously not as happy as you are,” you spat back, stepping back over to him. 

“If you ever speak to me that way again,” you started, spitting at him in the most threatening voice you could muster. “It won't be a fucking unsub that ruins your life.” 

“And how are you going to manage that, Y/N?” He said, stepping closer to you until he had you backed up against the wall, trapped in by his bigger frame, using it to his advantage to intimidate. 

“How will you manage to ruin my life,” he said, his voice softer as he finished his sentence, but not by much. “When you shake with just every time I get close?” 

“This is not lust,” you growled the words out, but try as you damn might, you were shaking, vibrating even. 

“Then what is it?” 

“Hatred, dislike, loathing, detestation, abhorrence, fuck Spencer, you can pick up a thesaurus yourself and find out.”

“Yeah. Okay. I'll believe your lies for a second.” He walked away, he was walking away but the fire was ringing in your ears and you needed him to stay fucking put so he could take it all. 

“You're a jackass.”

“Original.” 

“You slammed into my life, expecting me to bend to your will and be at the mercy of your needs, your wants. Your office space, your fucking case files, your job-” 

“None of that was my choice.” 

“And it wasn't mine either, but at least I fucking left you alone. I spent the week in this apartment and left you the fuck alone, and you couldn't even allow me the same.”

His focus was back on you again, but you refused to be backed against a wall this time. 

“What did you say?” 

“You will not let me know peace. I have lost my security, my patience, my fucking sanity with each word you have said, my peace of mind, my sleep, my fucking sanity, Spencer.” Your chest was heaving, touching his with each exhale as he too held his place in front of you. He was so close, you'd practically spat the words directly into his mouth. 

“How is that my fault?” He whispered, voice still dripping with disdain even as his hands again wrapped themselves in your hair, and he tugged your head back, baring your neck to him as he leaned down into you. 

“How do you know that you're not doing the same to me?” 

You refused to answer, though, meeting his eyes for one last second before you grabbed his hair in your hands and yanked him down to your mouth. 

It wasn't so much a kiss as a battle for dominance, each trying to torture a surrender from the other with clashing tongues and teeth. 

You made the first move, but he was obviously expecting it, and he didn't even pause before launching his own attack, finally pushing past your strong defence to walk you back to the sofa you'd abandoned earlier. 

His tongue still lashed against yours as you retreated, refusing to give up your upper hand even as you moaned into his touch. The couch hit the back of your knees, buckling, and you silently cursed your lack of sleep for leaving you so unstable right now. 

No, that wasn't true. It was him. He had left you so unstable, moving between happy and playful to angry and wrathful in the space of a week without you, and you'd been denying yourself the ability to even entertain any of this happening. Now that it was, your body was unprepared, totally at his mercy, as he pushed you to your back and pushed up your skirt. 

“You're already so fucking wet,” he groaned slipping two fingers inside you as you moaned around him, no longer capable of thought. This was the moment, this was when he was going to make you submit to him finally. 

Instead, he dropped to his knees and you gasped as his to guess found your sweet cunt and he began sucking to your clit. 

You were on fire, skin scorched from the inside out, spreading in waves from your pussy to the furthest regions of your body. 

With one hand, he spread your thighs further apart and pushed his entire face further into your cunt, tongue pushing inside right by his fingers, nose pushed right up against your clit as he didn't relent. Every movement was another curse falling from your mouth. 

“Shit, Spencer, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, hips rocking back and forth as you tried to fuck his face, begging for more. 

To your surprise, he didn't keep your hips still but let you keep riding his face, riding his fingers as you chased your first orgasm.  

It came quickly, overwhelming you with the impact, jolting through your body like a lightning bolt as he let your hips shake and crash across his tongue. 

When he finally pulled his face away, it was glistening, and he wasted no time shoving his tongue back in your mouth. His message was clear - he may have let you take whatever pleasure you'd wanted with him, but he was still the one in control. 

You trailed kisses along his cheeks, neck, shoulders as he divested himself of clothing, shirt, belt, pants, ripping at yours to free your body as well, until the two of you were only left with underwear and you'd picked up every last drop of your cum left on his skin.

“On your back, now,” he said, and you complied. You spread your legs, and rubbed at your still wet cunt, jolting as he finally lined himself up with your cunt. 

But he didn't push in yet. Instead he wrapped two arms under your knees and pulled you closer, so his cock rested over the top of your stomach, and leaned down, his face hovering inches over your own, holding himself up with a forearm rested just above your head. 

“You see that?” He said, glancing down. “That is how much I am going to fill you. That is how deep I am going to ease into you. That is how far I am going to go to claim you. You can take it like a good girl, right?” 

“Just shut up and put your cock inside me, Spencer.” 

“You're so fucking pushy for a submissive little slut,” he said, smiling finally. 

“I am not a-” you started to protest, but he slid inside of your hot cunt and you lost the ability to focus. 

“Not a what, Y/N? Speak up,” thrusting shallowly as your cunt grabbed him and held tight. 

“I'm not a- SPENCER!” You screamed his name as he pulled out quickly, thrusting into you again with a speed and strength that had you wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, fighting for him to stay right there deep inside. 

“Not a sub? Y/N, you're whimpering and drooling right now. You're three seconds away from begging for my cock, why the fuck can you not be honest with yourself?” 

“Fuck…you,” you said between moans as he rutted into you like a beast. He wasn't man anymore, bit monster, and he was claiming you inch by disgustingly perfect inch. 

“Let go. Let me take care of you, let me control you. Come on, baby, you know how good it would feel,” he said, before ducking his head and wrapping his tongue around a nipple. 

You screamed his name again, but you still tried to resist. 

“Come on, Y/N. Show me. Cum on my cock.” 

For a brief moment, you'd thought you'd resisted the demand. But then your brain faded, and your nails cut into his back like daggers as your body followed his commands and you came on his cock for a second time that night. 

“Perfect. One more, you can do one more,” he said, kissing your lips and lifting himself back up so he was sitting on his knees as he again picked up the pace. 

You mumbled his name over and over again as he fucked out all of the frustration in your body. Every thing either of you had said or done melted away in the glow of pleasure, your body buzzing from the feeling of him taking ownership of you. 

“One more, Y/N. One more, you need to cum one more time.”

“I can't, I can't I can't I can't, Spencer I can't I really can't,” you said, voice growing pathetically whiny as the tears sprang to your eyes and you choked back a sob. 

“Yes you can, one more. Together, we can do it together,” he said, groaning as you clenched around him.” 

He claimed your mouth again, his hand wrapping around your throat as he cut off your air supply for a second, then two, then three, as your ears buzzed and you finally slipped over the edge again. 

But this time, as promised, you weren't the only one caught in the pain of pleasure. Spencer collapsed on top of you as his dick spurted inside you, holding you close as he unloaded everything he had into you. 

He sat there, warming his cock as he lazily kissed open mouth kisses into every inch of your shoulders, collar bone and chest. Everywhere he could reach without pulling out of you and leaving you there. 

After weeks of no sleep because of him, it was his soft lips that finally enticed you into the hands of the sandman, his weight a comfort as you closed your eyes. 

When you woke in your bed, clean and clothed, he was gone, and so was every sign that he'd ever been there in the first place. 

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[hoshifighting]

hey I’m the anon that just requested the mingyu fics, they were so freaking good! I usually hesitate to send in requests but you were so fast , I totally didn’t expect it 😭 loved every bit of it!

if it’s not a bother could I request for mingyu overstimualting reader so much to the point she goes into subspace for the very first time, she’s so clingy and a crying mess but mingyu tries to help her out of it?

Reader going to the subspace for the first time, after overstimulating, with Mingyu

a/n: I'm glad you liked it my love, I always try to respond to all requests when I have free time! xoxo, Lyla. <3

warnings: overstimulation, fingering, subspace, sumbmissive!reader, dom!mingyu, aftercare, overwhelm

Mingyu's fingers moved in and out of you relentlessly, his touch expertly hitting all the right spots. you were a trembling mess beneath him, your body already pushed to its limits from multiple orgasms. your thighs quivered, your breath came in ragged gasps, and tears of overwhelming pleasure leaked from the corners of your eyes.

"Gyu, please," you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting into you. "i can't... i can't take anymore..."

but he didn't stop. instead, he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "one more for me, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with both command and reassurance. "you can do it. just one more."

you shook your head, sobbing softly. "it's too much... i can't..."

Mingyu's fingers curled inside you, brushing against your g-spot with precision, while his thumb found your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. the combination was too intense, and your body arched off the bed, your cries escalating.

"yes, you can," he insisted, his voice firm yet gentle. "you're my good girl, and you can take it. just let go."

your mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the line between the two blurring until you couldn't distinguish one from the other. you felt another orgasm building, more intense than any before it, and you screamed Mingyu's name as it crashed over you, your body convulsing uncontrollably.

tears streamed down your face as the orgasm wracked your body, and you found yourself slipping into a strange, detached state. the world around you faded, leaving only Mingyu's touch and voice grounding you. you were in sub space, a place you'd never been before, and it was both terrifying and comforting at the same time.

Mingyu slowed his movements, sensing the change in you. he gently withdrew his fingers and pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. "shh, it's okay," he whispered, stroking your hair soothingly. "i've got you. you're safe."

you clung to him, your body trembling as you tried to process the overwhelming sensations. "Gyu... i feel... i feel so..."

"shh," he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. "you're okay, baby. just breathe. i'm right here with you."

you buried your face in his chest, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace. his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as you slowly came back to yourself. the tears continued to flow, but they were no longer just from overstimulation—they were from the sheer intensity of the experience and the deep connection you felt with Mingyu.

"you're so good," he murmured, his voice a calming balm to your frazzled nerves. "you did so well. i'm so proud of you."

you sniffled, nuzzling closer to him. "i... i didn't know it could feel like that."

Mingyu chuckled softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "it's a lot, isn't it? but you did amazing. you're so strong."

"Gyu... it was so much," you mumbled, your voice small and broken.

"i know, baby. i'm sorry," he said softly, kissing the top of your head. "i got carried away. but you're safe now. i'm here."

he held you like that for a while, his touch and voice slowly bringing you back to reality. when you finally felt steady enough, he gently lifted you and carried you to the bathroom. he sat you on the edge of the tub and started running a warm bath, making sure the water was just right.

"let's get you cleaned up, okay?" he said, his voice still soft and comforting.

you nodded, still feeling a bit dazed but grateful for his care. he helped you into the tub, holding your hand as you lowered yourself into the warm water. the heat soothed your aching muscles, and you let out a sigh of relief.

Mingyu knelt beside the tub, gently washing your body with a soft cloth. his touch was tender and careful, his eyes filled with concern as he looked at you. "how are you feeling now?" he asked quietly.

"better," you whispered, your voice still shaky. "thank you, Gyu."

he smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "anything for you, baby," he said. "i'm here to take care of you."

after the bath, he helped you dry off and dressed you in one of his oversized shirts, the fabric soft and comforting against your skin. he led you back to the bedroom, tucking you into the freshly changed sheets.

"just rest, okay?" he said, climbing in beside you and pulling you into his arms. "i'll be right here."

you nestled into his chest, feeling safe and loved. "I love you, Gyu," you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion washed over you.

"i love you too, baby," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "just rest now. i've got you."

[likeumeanit9497]

watch | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after hearing you confess all of your insecurities to him, matt makes it his mission to have you see yourself the way that he sees you.

warnings: established relationship smut; fluff; mentions of body insecurities; hint of disordered eating; fingering (f receiving); dirty talk; choking; 18+

notes: i dreamt up this smut last night and immediately got to writing because it felt a little too real. i also knew it was gonna be a shorter one shot (compared to all of my others) so decided to try out second person narration rather than first person. i still can't decide which is better, so pls let me know which u all prefer to read. i hope ya'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed dreaming ab it ;)))

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

With Mac Miller playing softly from Matt’s tv, you sighed to yourself as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. You took a moment to inspect your appearance in the full length mirror that you had been getting ready in front of, and felt like you didn’t recognize the girl in the reflection. For some reason, you were having a bad everything day. You had started getting ready by doing your hair, and it just wouldn’t fall right once you had finished styling it. Moving on to makeup, you had struggled with making your eyeliner match and all of your base makeup looked splotchy; it was like nothing was sitting the way it should on your skin.

Filled with frustration, you were tempted to tell Matt to cancel the dinner reservation, scrub everything off your face, and tuck yourself in his bed for the rest of the night. But you wouldn’t do that, because he had been so excited about planning your date night all by himself.

You and Matt had been dating for a few months, and had built a relationship filled with the perfect combination of comfort and excitement. Even though you both lived apart, there was rarely a day when you and him were not doing something together — whether that be just laying in his bed watching movies all day, or going on a random adventure in the middle of nowhere. You could never grow tired of being around him, but for some reason your insecurities in your appearance were so severe today that you almost felt like you wanted to hide yourself from him.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your creasing concealer under your eyes, Matt walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You look pretty,” He started, heading towards his closet to pick out an outfit. “You about ready?” You watched him through the mirror as he put on a pair of boxers, feeling a lump form in your throat at how undeniably beautiful he looked. You were hit with the realization that his looks so clearly outshined your own, and hated the idea of other people recognizing that whenever you two went out together.

Trying to get the negative thoughts out of your mind so that he wouldn’t have reason to worry, you cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah I am. I just have to get dressed.” After buttoning his jeans, he looked at you through the mirror and smiled warmly. “Everything okay baby?” He must have noticed the tension in your brow, or the slight downturn of your lips, but you nodded reassuringly. “Yeah of course, I’m just not really feeling my makeup.” You added a chuckle to the end of your sentence, hoping to make him believe that it was just a light hearted confession. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I think it looks perfect.” He said softly into your hair, and you forced a smile onto your lips.

You walked over to the clothing rack that Matt had put in his room for you so that you could leave a variety of your clothes at his place for when you stayed over. Scanning your options, you skipped over all of your more bold pieces — knowing your head space was far too vulnerable tonight to mess around with any of them — and decided on your favourite black Skims dress. It had never failed you in the past, and you tried to reassure yourself with this fact as you removed your oversized t-shirt and replaced it with the soft dress.

Your positive attitude was gone just as quickly as it arrived once you began to examine yourself in the mirror. From the front your body looked okay, but as soon as you turned to the side you grimaced at the sight of your bloated stomach from the massive deli sandwich Matt had bought you for lunch earlier. The thin, tight material of the dress did nothing but accentuate the swell in your lower stomach, and you wanted to scream out in frustration. Maybe if your hair and makeup had worked in your favour the bloating wouldn’t have bothered you so much, but because everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong, it was enough to cause tears to well in your eyes.

As you stood in front of the mirror fighting the tears from spilling over, Matt noticed the sheen in your eyes and your wobbly chin and raced over to you. “Hey hey hey! What’s wrong baby?” He asked, his voice laced with a hint of panic. You shook your head rapidly. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.” Your voice was thick with emotion, and it made you even more angry with yourself as you knew this whole thing was stupid. “It’s clearly not nothing if you’re crying, Y/n.” He turned you around so that you were face to face with him; concern evident in his furrowed brow and racing eyes. “Tell me what’s going on sweetheart.” His voice was soft, and he rubbed his hands along your bare arms reassuringly.

You sighed and brought a shaky hand to your eye; trying to dab away any fallen tears in a weak attempt to not ruin your shitty makeup. “It’s stupid Matt.” You wined, not wanting to tell him your insecurities out of fear that speaking of them might make him suddenly see them just as clearly as you did. “Y/n, please.” He begged, desperate to try and help you. Groaning, you finally obliged; your voice barely above a whisper as you confessed. “I just hate everything about the way I look today, that’s all.” Matt stared at you with a blank expression as he took in your words, and you waited in silence — nervous to hear his response.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Y/n.” He sounded almost angry in his response, and it caused you to bite your lip nervously as you shrugged. “Nothing turned out the way I wanted it to when I got ready today, plus you’ve been feeding me too much lately and it’s been making me bloated.” You explained further, and watched as his eyes travelled from your face down to your body. “Baby, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said, and you rolled your eyes. “You have to say that, it’s one of the unwritten rules of being someone’s boyfriend.” A dry laugh escaped your lips, and Matt moved his hand to the back of your head.

“You think I’m lying?” He asked, his tone of voice mildly threatening and absolutely serious. So serious in fact, that the weak smile left your lips and you could do nothing but stare blankly at his face; unsure of how you should answer. He tilted his head quizzically, clearly still waiting for a response. Tentatively, you nodded your head yes as a singular tear fell down your cheek. Matt’s eyes softened. “Oh baby.” He breathed before pressing his lips softly against yours. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he began deepening the kiss — turning it into one filled with passion without losing its gentle nature. Delicately, his tongue skated across your lips; requesting access to your mouth without demanding it. You released a soft whimper from his tender movements as his hands travelled down to your ass; massaging it gently through the thin material of your dress.

“Turn around.” He ordered against your mouth, and you immediately obliged. Now facing the mirror, he stood behind you with his hands planted firmly on your shoulders. Into your ear, he spoke. “You are the most beautiful person that I have ever laid my eyes on, and I need you to know that.” His words — overflowing with emotion — caused goosebumps to cover your skin. Using both of his hands, he grabbed each thin strap of your dress and slowly peeled them off your shoulders. Not stopping there, he used his grip on the straps to pull the dress completely off your body — creating a puddle of dark material at your feet.

“Look at you, Y/n.” His hands moved across your upper body; exploring every square inch of your skin as he held you in front of the mirror. You shuddered from his touch; his hands lighting your body on fire as they glided across it. He grabbed your breasts in both hands, massaging them slowly as he planted a kiss to the top of your shoulder. “You might see flaws when you look at yourself in the mirror, but I don’t. And I never have.” His hands moved down to my hips, squeezing them slightly. “I think I just have to show you what I see, and then maybe you’ll change your mind.”

Dropping one more kiss to your flushed skin, he walked you forward a few steps towards the mirror, before using his hands to guide you to the floor. Knees tucked into your chest, he sat behind you and pulled all of your hair over to one side before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “Open your legs baby.” You gulped before obliging, sliding your legs apart but keeping your knees bent. Your bare chest rose and fell rapidly, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. You titled your head to the side out of embarrassment of having your legs spread in front of the mirror — with only your small pink thong covering you. Noticing this, Matt brought a hand to your jaw, grabbing it firmly and straightening your head back in the direction of the mirror. “You are breathtaking, Y/n. I don’t want you to look away.” As he spoke, he moved his hand from your jaw down to your breast, holding it firmly as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nipple. “Keep your eyes on the mirror.” He whispered before taking his free hand and sliding your panties to the side.

Your eyes planted firmly on your glistening core as he used two fingers to spread it open. You watched as your arousal began leaking from your slit, and your jaw dropped in ecstasy as he collected the fluid on his fingers. His eyes connected to yours in the mirror as he brought his wet fingers up to your lips. Confused, you furrowed your brow. “Even your insides are beautiful. Taste yourself.” He urged, and his words stirred up something within you. Slowly, you opened your mouth and immediately felt his fingers press against your tongue. You wrapped your lips around his middle and ring fingers; sucking your own sweet juices off of them and moaning at the heat of the scenario as his eyes burned into yours through the reflection in the mirror.

“Good girl.” He praised once you released his fingers, before moving them back down to your throbbing core. As soon as his fingers connected with your clit, you released a breathy moan and screwed your eyes shut in relief. “Open your eyes sweetheart, and look at how fucking beautiful you look.” He demanded sweetly into your ear, making it impossible for you to even consider disobeying him. Through your droopy eyelids you watched, mouth agape, as his ringed fingers massaged your bundle of nerves; their circular motions hypnotizing you. You also took a moment to admire your body as it writhed in anticipatory pleasure — your sweat-coated breasts heaving as you gasped for breath. Matt rested his chin on your shoulder — his left hand still caressing your tits — as he watched in awe at your various expressions of pleasure.

“Look at your pretty pink pussy, baby. And look how unbelievably beautiful you look when you bite your lip. God, I could cum in my pants just from watching you feel good.” His words were equal parts sweet and filthy in your ears, and they added to the pleasure you felt building up within you. Suddenly, his left hand moved from your tits down your stomach and towards your core. You watched in awe as he swirled two fingers around your opening teasingly, and practically screamed out once he slammed them into you. Wasting no time, his curled fingers pumped in and out of you rapidly, hitting your spongey g-spot each time.

“F-fuck Matty, feels so good.” You managed to get out through breathless moans. “Mmm.” He purred, “Looks so good too, doesn’t it? Your pretty juices like honey dripping from my fingers. Tell me how pretty it looks.” You whined before obliging. “I-it’s so pretty.” I watched his reflection as he shook his head and smirked. “Good baby, but it’s not just your juices. It’s you that’s so pretty. Say it.” As he waited for your response, he nipped delicately at your neck. “I-I’m s-so pretty.” Your voice was shaky as your mind was overtaken by your impending orgasm that was very quickly approaching. You felt Matt’s lips turn up in a smile against your neck. “That’s right. And just wait till you cum princess, there’s nothing more beautiful than that.” His words caused your walls to flex around his pumping fingers and your stomach tensed from the familiar feeling.

“G-gonna cum baby.” You cried out, tucking your chin into your shoulder and arching your back off of his chest as your orgasm began to roll through your body. Suddenly, Matt pulled his fingers out of your core and grabbed onto your throat, gently straightening your head up once again. “Watch yourself cum, Y/n.” He rasped into your ear and you watched through blurred vision as your fucked out face contorted into one filled with pleasure as your orgasm tore through your body. Still rubbing your clit at full tilt, Matt filled the space between you both with muttered praises; his eyes firmly planted to your face as he almost fell apart himself from the view in front of him.

Once you came down from your high, Matt wrapped both of his arms tightly around you; leaving small kisses on your skin as he waited for you to catch your breath. “I don’t ever want you to have negative thoughts about yourself like that ever again.” He stated as he rubbed your soft skin gently. Still waiting for the fog around your fucked out brain to clear, you could do nothing more than hum in acknowledgment. “I mean it, Y/n. I get that having insecurities is normal, but, when I look at you, I swear to god I can’t see a single flaw.” Your eyes fluttered open and connected with his in the mirror. “You are perfect, Y/n. And I’m not just saying that.” Giving him a small smile, your heart did leaps in your chest at his heartfelt testament. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and when you took a moment to look at yourself again in the mirror, you realized that maybe he did have a point.

Even through your makeup, your cheeks were filled with a lively glow that wasn’t there before. Your eyes seemed to glisten in the light, and your lips were swollen and pink. You would have expected your hair to be messed up, but Matt’s hands running through it had actually made it fall exactly they way you had hoped it would when you were styling it. You still struggled with your bloating, but flashbacks of your body squirming sensually under Matt’s touch — and the residual satisfaction of your orgasm a reminder of just how good your body could feel — allowed you to find a new appreciation for it. Feeling a lump form in your throat just as it had when you tried on your black dress — this time for an entirely different reason — you gazed adoringly at Matt. “Thank you baby.” You whispered before turning around and planting a deep kiss to his lips.

“It was my pleasure, sweetheart.” He responded, both of his hands on either side of your face so he could stare at it up close. “You think you’re up for dinner still? Because let me tell you, you’re on a whole other level of sexy when you’re shovelling steak into your mouth.” You erupted into giggles at this, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m serious.” He continued, his voice filled with laughter. “You think I have blue balls now, just wait until after dinner. They might explode.” You shoved his shoulders playfully at this, and hoisted yourself up to your feet to find your discarded dress. “You add a lobster to my dinner plate, and I might just be able to help you out with that on our way back.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

Omg, imagine like, you and wanda together, in college, you have this test you have to study for, but your really struggling, but wanda decides to be a nice mommy and sits you on her lap as you have your stuff infront of you, shes trying to teach your dumb slutty brain but its not working so she pulls her strap out and makes you cockwarm it and says something like ”if you get a question right, youll be allowed to move, but only for a little” and like keeps your hips steady as the both of you study. You do this until you feel like you know everythign and she decides to give you a reward by pounding you into the table and makes you cum as many times as you want 😋

- 🕸️ (im trying to study right now, why is math so hard? 😔 my dumb mutt brain just cant understand it)

Oh i would NOT be able to study after that omg that would backfire bc I would just be all fuzzy brained and begging her to fuck me...

I am thinking THOUGHTS tho about this concept

"Focus, baby."

The words are mumbled against your neck as Wanda softly kisses it, her arms wrapped around your hips, holding you still. You fight the urge to grind down, her strap buried inside you, your arousal leaking around it.

You whine slightly, her vanilla scent pulling you further into that fuzzy headspace you find yourself in whenever she's around you. You attempt to focus, numbers seemingly floating off the page as you grip your pencil.

"Answer the question, sweetheart. If you get it right, Mommy will let you fuck yourself on her strap for a few seconds." Wanda says, and you feel her smiling against your neck.

Nodding, you try and ignore her as her tongue begins making a trail up your neck. Your pencil shakes in your grasp as you begin to work out the problem, mind bouncing between the math in front of you, and the woman holding you.

You're acutely aware of the thick strap moving slightly inside you as Wanda adjusts her grip, and you breathe in deeply. You're almost done with the problem, just a few... more... numbers.

"Got it!" You exclaim, twisting to look at Wanda as she studies the problem in front of her.

"Good job, darling." She turns towards you, green eyes shining. You glance down, her lips inches from yours. You want to taste her. Leaning in, you press your lips against her soft ones, a moan escaping her as she slides her lips against yours.

"Go on," She mumbles into the kiss, "Fuck yourself for me."

You whimper, relief flooding you as she helps you move your hips. You fuck yourself slowly, pleasure igniting deep inside you as you move yourself up and down on her strap. You can feel your wetness smearing over your inner thighs and on Wanda's lap, but can't bring yourself to care too much.

God, it feels so... fucking... good...

"Stop."

You still at the command, breaths shaky as you fight the urge to move your hips. The strap is once against buried inside you, and your pleasure dims to a low simmer.

Wanda's lips are back on your neck, and you groan at the sensation. She chuckles, "Next problem baby. We're going to keep playing this little game until you've finished all your work."

---

I need someone to do this to me ugh it would keep me motivated and also fuzzy brained so its a two-for-one deal tbh

[elia-the-bibliophile]

Karma's a B*tch (Carlos Sainz Jr. x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff Word count: 709

Carlos Sainz Jr. finds himself at the mercy of his Gen Z girlfriend, Y/N, who loves to play pranks on him.

Carlos had just returned home from cycling, his hair still damp and his knees feeling like jelly. He walked into their cozy apartment in Monaco, the familiar scent of home instantly putting him at ease. The apartment was warmly lit, with soft golden lights casting a serene glow over the modern furnishings. The windows were open, allowing a gentle evening breeze to waft through, bringing with it the faint scent of the nearby Mediterranean Sea.

He spotted Y/N lounging on the couch in the living room, sipping an Aperol Spritz. She was comfortably nestled among plush cushions, her feet propped up on the coffee table. She looked up and smiled at him, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes that he missed.

“Hey, bella,” Carlos greeted, dropping his gear bag by the door and kicking off his shoes . “How's your evening going?”

Y/N took another sip of her drink and set the glass down, her expression shifting to one of feigned seriousness. “Carlos, I need to tell you something.”

His brow furrowed as he walked over, sitting beside her. “What is it? Did something happen?”

She took a deep breath, her tone grave. “I was a bad girl, I did some bad things. I swear I did it all for fun and it meant nothing.”

Carlos blinked, his face scrunching in confusion. “Eh? What are you talking about?”

Y/N continued, her face a perfect mask of sincerity. “I was a wild child, you always knew it. It was a matter of time before I blew it.”

Carlos's eyes widened, panic starting to set in. “Wait, what? What exactly happened? Why are you telling me this just now?”

She put a hand to her chest, looking remorseful. “Thou shall not lie, thou shall not cheat. Thou shall not get caught or you'll end up just like me.”

Carlos's mouth fell open, his mind spiraling. “Y/N, this doesn't make any sense! What did you do? Are you in trouble?”

She sighed dramatically, her expression serious. “Karma's a bitch, I should've known better.”

Carlos got up and started pacing, his voice rising with anxiety. “Karma? Are the police involved? Do we need a lawyer? Talk to me, mi amor!”

Y/N struggled to keep a straight face but soldiered on, her acting impeccable. “Carlos, please. I didn’t think it through. It was just... a matter of time.”

Carlos's panic escalated. “A matter of time for what? Are we being blackmailed? Did you run over someone?”

Finally, Y/N couldn't hold back any longer. She burst into uncontrollable laughter, nearly spilling her drink. “Carlos, mi querido, I'm pranking you! It's the lyrics to a Jojo Siwa song. It's trending right now.”

Carlos froze, his face a mix of relief and bewilderment. “Wait, what?”

Y/N was doubled over, tears streaming down her face. “Your face! I can't believe you fell for it!”

Carlos let out a deep sigh, finally laughing along. “I thought you had done something terrible! Jojo Siwa? Who even is that?”

Y/N wiped away her tears, still giggling. “You were ready to call a lawyer! I couldn't have asked for a better reaction.”

Carlos shook his head, still chuckling. “I can't believe I didn't catch on sooner. But seriously, you had me so worried.”

Y/N grinned, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Just keeping you on your toes. You need to know these things to stay hip, you know?”

Carlos wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “I'm an old man, Y/N. I can't keep up with you and all the Gen Z trends.”

Y/N smirked, raising her glass in a mock toast. “To keeping you young and entertained, then. Here's to many more pranks.”

Carlos laughed, clinking his imaginary glass with hers. “Just go easy on me next time, okay? I don’t think my heart can take much more of this.”

Y/N snuggled into his side, her laughter subsiding into contented smiles. “Deal. But no promises.”

Carlos sighed contentedly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you love me for it,” she replied, a satisfied grin spreading across her face.

He smiled down at her, feeling the warmth of her laughter still lingering in the air. “Yes, yes I do.”

[yazmarina]

dime, ¿esto es lo que tú quería'?

charles leclerc and oscar piastri x fem!reader

how about a reward for monaco's p1 and p2?

warnings/notes: smut, threesome, a blowjob, slight degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people!!!), cumshot, creampie, gagging, light choking

a/n: very ambitious and would not set me free until i wrote it...so please enjoy <3

.

You really had no idea how you ended up here.

Arthur is a good friend of yours, having met him when you first came to work for Ferrari under the communication department, mostly being assigned to handle the Academy and development drivers' communication needs. You and Arthur got on well, and eventually, you were hanging out with him and his other friends on the weekends.

The two of you were strictly friendly, something you've had to clear out multiple times to work superiors, nosy colleagues, insistent reporters, you name it.

Arthur isn't your type, point blank, period.

His older brother was a different topic altogether.

Charles was sensitive, artistic, a prince charming in all aspects. Being in close proximity to Arthur meant you spent some time with Charles, too, but those were few and far between and every time you were within five feet of Charles, you were reduced to a tongue-tied mess.

Regardless, Arthur insisted you come along to the celebrations after Charles' most recent win in Monaco.

"Charles knows who you are and you're my friend. He won't mind," Arthur pleaded earlier that day as you were packing up after the podium celebrations.

"What if you go running off and I'm left alone?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I won't go running off," Arthur promised. "I'll be with you the whole night. I'll even help you look for a guy you can go home with!"

And yet you're here in the present, sitting on a couch in the VIP section, alone.

Well, not really. You're surrounded by people but none of them are talking to you. Arthur had gone to get more drinks half an hour ago and you know by now that he probably was sidetracked by other friends or something to that effect.

You have half a mind to call it a night, your hand already reaching for your purse, when you hear a voice call out.

"________! You're here!"

You look up and your heart seems to jump right into your throat.

Charles is beaming down at you, a flag of Monaco draped around his shoulders, his previously styled hair now sticking up in all directions.

You caught a glimpse of Charles earlier when you arrived with Arthur, but the race winner was too busy doing shots for you to have properly said hi.

But he's here now. And he's sliding into the space beside you.

"Where's Arthur?" Charles asks, reaching for an unopened Heineken on the table in front of you.

"I have no idea," you half-yell, leaning closer so Charles could hear. You feel goosebumps erupt on your skin when Charles lays a tentative hand on your back.

"You can spend time with me, then," Charles grins, moving his arm further so it fully wraps around your shoulders.

A nervous laugh escapes you but your instinct is to lean even further into Charles' touch. He's still smiling at you, though clearly inebriated with the way his eyes seem out of focus.

"Ah, Oscar!"

You turn your head to see the other third of the podium finishers, Osar Piastri himself.

"Hey!" he calls over the din of the music. "I can't find anyone! I think they just abandoned me," Oscar adds, laughing.

He takes the seat on your left, effectively sandwiching you between him and Charles. You smile politely at Oscar, reaching your hand out.

"Hi, I'm ______," you say, smiling wider as Oscar takes your hand in his and squeezes.

"I'm Oscar," he says then pauses, realizing that you probably already knew who he was if you were any friend of Charles'. He laughs, practically giggles, hiding his face in his hand.

"Sorry, I see you around the paddock sometimes, so I probably didn't need to do that," Oscar explains, cheeks turning pink, or at least you think they do, given that the lighting in this club is atrocious.

Oscar is still holding your hand and you can tell that he's tipsy too by the way he's smiling, eyes hooded and sleepy-looking.

"________ is part of communications in Ferrari," Charles explains, rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin of your shoulder. You turn to look at Charles, and the way he gazes back at you, a half smile on his lips, breath hot on your cheek, has your heart pounding incessantly against your chest.

"She's very efficient," Charles praises with a chuckle. "I like seeing her around when she works."

You make a move to swat at Charles' thigh as if to tell him off. "Stop it, I'm not at enough races for you to see me that often."

You're laughing, mostly in disbelief at the words that just came out of Charles' mouth. He likes seeing you around?

Charles shrugs. "But when you are, I notice."

You feel your neck heat up and even more so when Charles maneuvers you closer, seemingly protective. If you moved any more, you'd be on Charles' lap.

Oscar eyes the two of you and you'd give anything to read the thoughts in his head right now. The younger man locks eyes with you and smiles, sweetly at first, but then his pupils glance down briefly at your chest, barely covered by the tube top you decided to don for the evening.

The sweetness quickly melts away as Oscar bites his lip.

"You're close, then?" Oscar asks casually, scooting closer to you and Charles.

"Arthur and her are good friends," Charles points out.

"So I guess by default, _______ and I are good friends, too."

You laugh and Oscar is grinning once more at you, and god does he look handsome under these lights. You can tell that he wants to come even closer, his fingers tapping nervously on his knee. Some slow song is playing over the speakers, bass loaded and making the entire place vibrate.

You reach out, laying a hand on Oscar's thigh, squeezing just enough to get the point across.

Oscar looks over at Charles and you follow his line of sight, seeing some sort of unspoken agreement cross the two drivers.

Charles dips his head, moving even closer to you. He breathes out right next to your ear and you shiver.

"Ma chèrie," he begins. "I think we need to take this somewhere else."

You turn to look at Charles, blood roaring in your ears. "What?"

Charles looks straight into your eyes as if searching for something. He rubs a soothing hand down your back, letting it settle on your waist.

"You want to, no?" Charles asks, momentarily glancing up at Oscar. "With me and him?"

You feel a rush of excitement course through you. Surely, this isn't happening. The idea of Charles bringing you home crossed your mind briefly the moment he touched you earlier, but that's as far as you allowed yourself to imagine. But the remnants of alcohol in your system and the intoxicating atmosphere of the club must have gotten to you with the way you so brazenly made a move on Oscar.

And now you reap what you sow.

"We can hang out at my place," Oscar throws out nonchalantly as if he was simply inviting you and Charles to more drinks at his apartment.

"I just moved in and it could use a little...housewarming," Oscar adds with a pointed look.

Charles bursts out laughing, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into the side of your neck. You glance around, hyperaware that all eyes have been on Charles the whole night, and for sure it isn't any different now.

"Andiamo," Charles whispers. "We'll make it good."

Let's go. Your months of Italian as a prerequisite to working in Ferrari barely register with you now.

Oscar slips his own hand over your thigh, his large palm covering an expanse of your skin.

"You'll love the view from my balcony," Oscar offers, tilting his head towards you. He smiles, innocent and sweet once more, simultaneously squeezing at the flesh of your thigh.

You bite your lip, suppressing whatever sounds that threatened to come out.

-

You thought you'd never make it out of the car ride to Oscar's place.

Oscar had brought his own ride and being much, much more sober than both you and Charles, he took the initiative to drive. You and Charles piled into the backseat, giggling.

"Not fair, you guys," Oscar teased from the front, eyeing you through the rearview mirror. Charles merely snickers, hands sneaking up over your chest as you settle on his lap.

"Eyes on the road, Oscar," Charles ordered, yanking your top down, exposing yourself fully to Oscar. You gasped, the cold air of the air-conditioning lending to the stiffening of your nipples. Charles began to toy with them, pinching and rolling them between his fingers, reducing you to a speechless mess. You noticed just how hard Oscar was gripping the steering wheel, tight enough that his knuckles were drained of color.

You barely had time to cover yourself back up once you got to Oscar's place, with Charles tugging you out of the car as soon as Oscar killed the ignition. The younger of the two comes around to your side of the car as you and Charles stumble out. Oscar takes your hand in his and leans down briefly to kiss you, tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your lips.

Oscar pulls away, sending Charles a look. "I was on the podium, too, mate."

"Ah, sorry Oscar," Charles says lightheartedly. "Sharing isn't really my strong suit. But for her, I will try."

Charles lands a smack on your ass, the sound loud enough to make you flinch. You involuntarily whine at the sting, tripping over your feet a bit. Oscar steadies you, laughing along with Charles.

"We're gonna have so much fun with you, chèrie," Charles teases, kissing your cheek.

The elevator ride is even worse. Or better. You can't decide.

It's just the three of you, and you're backed up into the corner, Charles being the handsier of the two, creeping both hands up your sides, his knee pushing between your legs.

"Ch-Charles, not here," you manage to warn. He increases the pressure against your core, grinning as he watches you shiver.

Oscar watches from the side, arms crossed, leaning casually against the elevator wall. You meet his gaze and he winks, smiling languidly just as Charles kisses down the side of your neck.

Soon enough, the elevator doors open and you push Charles away, startled to see a pair of middle-aged women waiting on the other side. You hurry past them out into the hallway, following Oscar who saunters down towards the end with an easy step.

"Right here," Oscar declares, unlocking a door at the very end. Charles guides you inside just as Oscar turns the light on.

The living room is spacious, with a single couch and coffee table occupying it. A deep blue rug breaks the cream flooring. Past the receiving area is the dining and kitchen, set against floor-to-ceiling windows, a staple of Monegasque apartments, as you've come to figure out. A hallway veers to the right.

"You weren't kidding about the view," you comment, taking in the night sky and the sprawling harbor.

Oscar turns back to you, and only now do you get a good look at him. The first three buttons of his shirt undone, his hair the right kind of messy, and his eyes, darker than what you're used to.

"The view in here is just as good," Oscar replies, eyes raking over your body. He reaches out, a hand resting on your waist.

"May I?" Charles whispers from behind you, tugging down the zip of your skirt. He gets it open and you let it fall to your feet, kicking it off to the side.

"So pretty," Charles adds, kissing along your upper back. Oscar hikes your top up and you let him pull it over your head, leaving you bare, save for your panties.

"I could see your tits through your shirt the whole night," Oscar comments, pointer fingers ghosting over your nipples. "Imagined what they might look like."

You gasp, leaning further back into Charles. You had no idea Oscar had that kind of mouth on him.

It turned you on to no end.

"Better than what you imagined?" You breathe out, Charles' fingers making their way over your mound, pressing over the wet spot on your underwear.

"Chèrie, you're so wet," Charles curses, rubbing you through the thin fabric. "Will you let me get a taste of you, hm?"

You nod frantically, already buckling under the lightest of touch from both men. You can only imagine how pathetic you look right now, stripped bare, with them still fully clothed.

"We should move this to the room," Oscar offers, delivering a final pinch to both of your nipples. You yelp as Oscar chuckles darkly, taking your hand in his.

It hasn't even fully started and you're already made to do the walk of shame.

Oscar's walls are still mostly bare but you feel exposed somehow, shivering despite the fairly warm temperature. He leads you and Charles to the door at the end of the hall, stepping inside while undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

You're met with large double doors on one side of the room, leading to, what you can only assume, is a large balcony.

"We can do it with a view, amour," Charles says, wrapping both arms around your waist.

Oscar shrugs his shirt off and you watch as his muscles flex beneath his skin, taut and defined.

"We sure can," Oscar agrees, flinging the doors to his balcony open. The cool night breeze blows past your face and you sigh, heart rate picking up even more.

Charles gently maneuvers you closer to the open doors and your hands start to clam up. Shit, are you really doing this?

"W-Wait," you mutter. "Won't anyone see?"

Oscar approaches you, pointer finger hooking into your underwear. He tugs at it harshly, yanking it halfway off.

"We don't have to do it outside if you don't want to," Oscar says, voice low. He looks at Charles. "Don't wanna get kicked out after I've just moved in."

Charles snickers. "The bed is right there. We'll leave the doors open and let them hear you, instead."

And it's true. The bed is directly in front of the balcony doors, moonlight spilling onto Oscar's navy blue sheets. Oscar grabs fully at your soiled panties now, ripping them clean off.

You gasp, but any shock is melted away when you see Oscar ball up the torn fabric in his hand, bringing it closer to your face. He raises his eyebrows as if questioning you.

"Yes? No?" He asks, tapping beneath your chin. It clicks a little late what Oscar is asking of you but you nod, parting your lips.

Oscar grins, pushing your panties into your mouth.

Fuck.

You hear the metal clang of a belt being unbuckled behind you, followed by the crinkle of fabric as Charles lets his pants and underwear pool around his ankles.

"You and I are going to have so much fun with her, no, Oscar?" Charles asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Oscar undoes the button of his pants as well. "Yes, we are."

"How do you want to do this, baby?" Charles addresses you, taking hold of your hips. "Tell us."

"And maybe if you're good, we'll give you what you want," Oscar adds, a hand sliding up your chest before resting around your neck. Your breath hitches as you feel Oscar test the waters, squeezing lightly.

"Oh, wait," Charles laughs condescendingly. "She can't talk."

There's a glint in Oscar's eyes as he adds pressure around your neck. "Guess we have to decide for her then."

You whimper, arms reaching out to wrap around Oscar's own neck. He smiles at you, almost warmly, but you can still see the bubbling desire in his irises.

"You can take the gag out any time you want," Oscar instructs softly, releasing your neck. You take in a big breath through your nose.

"And if you don't like anything we're doing, say 'Monte Carlo'," Oscar adds. He nods at Charles and you feel yourself being pulled backward.

"Get on the bed," Charles commands and you scramble to do so, crawling over the mattress before turning around and laying back on your elbows.

Charles and Oscar eye you intently and you're tempted to cover yourself, but with how they've been acting the whole night, you're not sure how that would be received.

"You wanna go first?" Oscar nudges Charles lightly. The Monegasque grins widely like a kid on Christmas.

"Oh, yes," Charles concedes, getting on the bed with you. He scoots down so his face is level with your cunt.

"Hold tight, my love," Charles says before licking a thick stripe up your core. Your whole body jerks and you cry around the gag in your mouth.

Charles continues to work on your dripping pussy, alternating between flicking against your clit and circling your hole. You moan and whine and whimper, eyes tearing up as you look pleadingly at Oscar.

"Look at you," Oscar laughs. "We've barely done anything."

Charles spreads your legs even wider, licking even deeper. You're fully crying now, the buildup proving too much as you feel your body shake at your approaching orgasm.

Oscar reaches over and toys with your boobs, brushing over your nipples just the way you like it. Without warning, Oscar dips his head down and takes one in his mouth, circling the nub with his own tongue.

The added sensation nearly drives you crazy. The pressure builds rapidly inside you and you're left incoherent as you beg without words.

Not yet, fuck, I can't cum that fast–

You twitch and involuntarily press your pussy harshly against Charles' mouth as you come undone, toes curling and body seizing up. Oscar pulls away and watches as you throw your head back, fingers twisting into the sheets.

"Already?" You hear Charles' voice through the ringing in your ears. "You must really want it."

You blink through your tears, momentarily confused as you see Oscar reach for your face. You cough as you feel the dry fabric being pulled out from your mouth. Oscar tosses your ruined underwear to the side.

"I think she deserves a reward for getting there so fast," Oscar suggests, turning to Charles.

"Which one do you want a taste of first? You get to pick, sweetheart," Oscar says, wiping a stray line of drool dripping down the side of your mouth.

"Ch-Charles," you croak, throat still dry.

Charles and Oscar share a curt nod and the former moves to the head of the bed.

"Hands and knees, my love," Charles orders and you follow, getting on all fours. He settles against the headboard, leaning back as you take his cock in your hand.

"Guess you want me here, then?" Oscar says from behind you. You turn to peek over your shoulder to see Oscar stroking languidly at his cock, one of his hands coming down to spread your ass apart.

"Fuck, this view," Oscar hisses, smacking your ass once.

"I reckon, you don't need me to prep you? I can just–"

You shriek as you feel Oscar push in without warning, and though it was a surprise, the obscene amount of arousal coming from your cunt aids in the stretch that Oscar's cock brings.

He fully sheathes himself inside and he groans, grabbing your hips with both hands.

"Chèrie." Charles' voice forces your attention back to him.

"Don't forget about me, hm?"

You try to compose yourself as best as you can as Oscar starts to fuck you at a relentless pace. You lower your mouth down to Charles' cock, wrapping your lips around the tip.

You take half of him in, coating him in your spit, going lower each time you come down. Charles is nearly as incoherent as you were earlier, curse words in three different languages falling from his lips.

You feel the tip of his cock reach the back of your throat and you stop, gagging around it. Charles threads his fingers through your hair, yanking you back up.

"Open your mouth," Charles says, tightening the grip on your hair.

You do as you're told and Charles angles himself better. He holds you in place as he fucks up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time. You will your breathing to slow, but the constant assault on your pussy muddles your brain and destroys your focus.

"She's so fucking tight," Oscar says through gritted teeth. You can feel his nails dig into your sides.

"Here as well," Charles agrees. "So warm and so wet."

All you can do is sob as you let the two of them use you, filled up on both sides, reduced to nothing but two holes.

"Fuck, I wanna cum on her face," Oscar says hurriedly, hips slowing down, probably in an attempt to keep his orgasm at bay.

Charles pulls you back off of him and he surveys you for a second.

"And I'll do it inside," Charles says. "Will you let me cum inside, chèrie?"

You nod, unconsciously clenching around Oscar. He curses, speeding up his movements again.

"Mate, I can't take it anymore," Oscar rushes, pulling out. You whine at the loss but Charles is quick to get off the bed, replacing Oscar's place behind you.

You feel the Charles' tip press against your hole and you plead, rocking back, desperate to be filled up.

"Charles, please, n-need your cum in me," you stutter. "Wanna be filled up, I need it, need you, please–"

Charles slides in one swift motion and your eyes roll all the way back in your head. He's thicker than Oscar and the stretch is almost painful but in the best way possible.

The older of the two wastes no time and starts pounding into you, rendering you speechless at how brutal his pace is. You're dizzy with arousal, spit and tears mixing on your chin and cheeks.

"Look here, sweetheart," comes Oscar's voice, rough around the edges, his hand cupping your chin.

He's stroking his cock at an impossible pace, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You look straight into his eyes as you stick your tongue out, waiting for him to release all over you.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," Oscar sneers, gripping harder at your face. "Open wide."

A warm spurt of liquid shoots straight onto your tongue, landing on your cheeks as well. You squint as it hits nearer to your eyes but you obediently lick up everything you can from your lips, swallowing Oscar's thick cum down.

"Oh god, baby," Charles warns. "Je vais bientôt jouir–"

Charles presses you closer to him, caging your hips against his own. He groans and you feel him twitch within you. You clench down as hard as you can around him, earning your hair a harsh tug from behind. Charles yanks you back against him as he gives a few more thrusts to ride his orgasm out.

"We are not done with you yet, amour," Charles warns.

Oscar's face comes into view and he's eyeing you up and down, his thumb swiping at a stain of himself on your cheek. He brings it to your lips and you lick his digit clean.

"Good girl," Oscar praises. "But he's right. You can give us a few more, right?"

You swallow.

You nod.

[sunkissed-zegras]

★ TO BE KNOWN IS TO BE LOVED ─── NM¹⁰

❪ requested -> "ON MY KNEES for clingy nika hcs/fic" ❫

─ warnings | nothing but sweet fluff and mention of deadlines (like schoolwork)

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"BABY," NIKA POUTED AS she gazed up at you, her brown eyes filled with neediness and slight irritation.

You glanced back at your girlfriend for a split second before looking back at your computer screen. "Yes, babe?"

You had a project due tomorrow afternoon and you didn't wanna wake up early to finish it up or rush, so this was the only time you could do it. However, your girlfriend had other plans.

She'd just got done with practice and barged into your dorm, Nika dropped her gym bag on the floor and flopped onto your bed, her presence adding a layer of distraction to your already cluttered mind.

"I missed you," Nika continued as she gazed up at you, her voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and longing.

You couldn't help but smile at her, despite your mounting stress. "I missed you too, Nika," you replied, reaching over to ruffle her hair affectionately.

"Then act like it," Nika rolled her eyes as you sighed.

"Nika, I really need to get this done," you said, trying to keep your tone gentle but firm.

Nika crossed her arms, her expression softening as she looked at you with those big, pleading eyes. "I know, but it feels like you always have something to do. Can't you take a break, just for a little while? We haven't spent any time together all week."

Guilt washed over you. She was right; between classes, assignments, and everything else, your time together had been scarce. You glanced at your computer screen, then back at Nika, who was now sitting up, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Alright," you said finally, closing your laptop with a sense of finality. "But just for a little while."

Nika's face lit up with a smile, and she immediately scooted over to make room for you on the bed. You joined her, and she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close. "I promise, it won't be long," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

"That was easier than expected," Nika mumbled into your hair as you looked up to send her a glare. "Sorry! I knew you wanted to cuddle too, I could see it in your eyes."

"Oh really?" You held in a laugh as you teased her. "And what else do my eyes reveal?"

Nika grinned mischievously, her fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Hmm, let's see... They say you're secretly hoping I'll make you some pasta after this cuddle session,"

You chuckled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "You know me too well," you admitted, feeling a wave of affection wash over you.

Nika's smile softened, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I love knowing you," she murmured, her voice filled with sincerity.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[louisaskywalkerani]

Whispers in the Dark, forbidden embrace.

Pairing : Anakin Skywalker x f!Reader

synopsis : anakin reassures you about your forbidden relationship in more ways than one.

CW : 18+, smut! minors DNI. no movement but, p in v penetration, cock warming.

an : ok this is my first fanfic i've ever written, i'm completely petrified tbh, i tried to do my best, if u can give me some advice, it would be super nice. enjoy this ig.. the end is also inspired by @ohcaptains !!

The dim lighting in the temple corridor casts long shadows. Anakin's footsteps echo softly as he approaches you, a determined look in his eyes. You've been avoiding him, knowing the danger of your connection. Tonight, there's no escape.

"Anakin, we shouldn't be here," you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of unspoken emotions.

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. "We can’t keep pretending, not anymore," he replies, his voice husky. "The Council doesn’t understand what we feel."

You look into his eyes, seeing the conflict mirrored in your own. "What if we're caught? The Council—"

"Screw the Council," he interrupts, his hands gently cupping your face. "I need you. We both know this is more than a fleeting desire."

Your breath hitches as his thumb brushes over your lips. "Anakin, we're risking everything."

"Some things are worth the risk," he murmurs, leaning in. His lips capture yours in a kiss that speaks of months of longing and suppressed passion. The kiss deepens, and you feel the warmth of his body against yours, his heartbeat pounding in sync with your own.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours. "Tell me you don’t feel the same, and I'll walk away."

You close your eyes, the truth undeniable. "I can’t," you admit softly. "I’ve tried, but I can’t."

With a relieved sigh, Anakin wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "Then let’s not fight it anymore."

—

The night is serene, stars twinkling above as if to guard your secret. Anakin spreads his cloak on the ground, inviting you to sit beside him. “Remember when we first met?” he asks, his voice a soft murmur.

You smile, the memory clear in your mind. “You were so arrogant,” you tease. “I thought you’d never take anything seriously.”

Anakin chuckles, his hand finding yours. “And you were so serious. Always following the rules.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, the bond deepening with shared memories. You both lie down on the cloak, looking up at the stars. "I used to think the stars held our destiny," you say, your voice barely audible.

"They still do," Anakin replies, his fingers intertwining with yours. "But we can choose our path."

The quiet of the night is broken only by the soft sounds of the temple gardens. Anakin turns to you, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we didn't have to hide?" he asks, his voice tinged with sadness.

"All the time," you admit. "But the life we've chosen doesn't allow for what-ifs."

Anakin's grip tightens around your hand. "We could leave. Start a new life, far from here. No rules, no codes, just us."

You look at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache. "And what of our duties? Our responsibilities?"

"We've given enough," he says fiercely. "Isn't it time we lived for ourselves?"

The temptation is strong, the vision of a life with Anakin almost too beautiful to resist. But the weight of your commitments anchors you. "I don’t know if I can."

Anakin sighs, pulling you closer. "I can't lose you," he whispers. "Not now, not ever."

"You won't," you promise, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "We'll find a way to make this work."

The night stretches on, filled with whispered words and tender touches. As dawn approaches, you both lie entwined, the weight of your choices pressing down but the warmth of your connection offering solace. For now, in this moment, you are together, and that’s all that matters.

You lay there, enveloped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. The temple gardens, usually so serene and quiet, now seem to pulsate with the forbidden energy of your bond. The leaves rustle gently in the night breeze, almost as if they are whispering your secrets.

Anakin strokes your hair gently, his fingers tracing patterns that send shivers down your spine. “I’ve always admired your strength,” he says softly. “You’ve kept us hidden so well, even when it must have torn you apart.”

You sigh, nuzzling closer to him. “It hasn’t been easy,” you admit. “Every time I see you, I have to fight the urge to run into your arms. But I’ve never regretted it. Not for a moment.”

His grip tightens around you, as if he fears you might slip away. “I want to show you something,” he says suddenly, sitting up. “Come with me.”

Curious, you follow him through the winding paths of the garden until you reach a small, hidden alcove. The moonlight filters through the leaves, casting a mystical glow over everything. Anakin kneels and presses a hidden switch, revealing a small passageway.

“How did you find this?” you ask, amazed.

“I have my ways,” he replies with a wink. “Come on.”

The passage leads to a secluded chamber deep within the temple, one that even you, with all your knowledge of the place, had never discovered. It’s filled with ancient artifacts, relics of Jedi history, and texts that seem almost forgotten by time.

“I come here to think,” Anakin says, lighting a small lantern that casts a warm glow over the room. “It’s a place where I can be myself, away from the pressures of the Council and the weight of my duties.”

You walk around, marveling at the treasures surrounding you. “It’s incredible,” you whisper. “Like a sanctuary.”

Anakin smiles, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I wanted to share it with you. A place that’s ours alone.”

You turn in his embrace, your eyes meeting his. “Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “It means more than you know.”

For a moment, you simply stand there, holding each other, surrounded by the silent witnesses of a bygone era. Then, with a gentle tug, Anakin leads you to a small nook filled with cushions. You sit down together, and he pulls you into his lap, his lips finding yours once more.

He breaks the kiss and smiles up at you, taking in every curve of your body, his hands brushing along your thighs as he drinks in the sight of you.

“You're so beautiful... even more so up close.” he whisper 

He reaches up, his hand cradling your cheek as he kisses you again. As the kiss deepens, he pulls you closer, his hand sliding lower along the curve of your waist. His touch is gentle at first, but as his passion grows, he holds you tighter against him.

Anakin's tongue explores your mouth as his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your hips. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine as it ignites the fire burning within you.

You moan softly into his mouth as you feel his fingers brush across your skin, their touch leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Your hands explore his back, feeling every muscle as they clench and relax beneath your fingertips.

Anakin breaks away from you briefly, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone. His teeth graze against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.

“Ani... what are we doing...?” You breathe, biting your lip as his lips find a sensitive spot on your neck.

Anakin chuckles, his breath warm against your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses along your jaw.

"I think you know, love.." He murmurs, his hand slipping under your chin to tilt your head back and expose your neck to him.

“I want you,” he whispers in your ear, his voice low and husky.

His words send shivers down your spine, and you can't help but arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him. Your body aches for his touch, but you’re thankful that he can’t see the way you clench your eyes closed. 

Regardless, he can sense you tightening your grip on the back of his head. As you shift up against his thigh, the heat from your underwear burns against him.

He is aware that you are hesitant.

“It can be like i told you last time.” He stutters, licks his lips, and struggles to get the words out of his throat.

“Just- sit on it.” he managed to say. “If you don’t want to move it’s alright love, just wanna be inside you.” 

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and kiss it carefully to not leave any marks.

“Anakin..” You whisper softly as you struggle not to close your eyes to his touch.

He pulls away from your neck and looks up at you.

“What? Are you afraid?” 

Your eyes roll slightly “No i’m not afraid.”

A slight smile appears at the corner of his lips. “Then what is it?”

You squint at his attitude. “Nothing. I- I just won’t move.”

He nods and slowly kisses your neck, his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. “Alright, love.”

You shift back so he can pull his trousers down to his knees, and you take his cock in your hand, feeling him melting at your simple touch.

“Love,” he whispers, his voice deep and rough. “I want to be inside you. Now.” 

You feel a surge of heat between your legs, and you can't help but moan in response. You've never felt so aroused, so completely lost in the moment.

You push your underwear to the side, and you lift yourself to sink onto him as Anakin breathes “Take it easy love, don't want you to hurt yourself.”

You halt. To avoid pushing him inside of you all at once and hurting yourself, you grip his shoulder to steady yourself.

You push against him once more, and the tip of his cock nudges between your folds, forcing an ache to shoot through your clit and make you dizzy. You pause as a slow burn builds in your thighs, you clench down in an effort to relieve the pain.

“Fuck,” Anakin grunts as he wraps his arm around the back of your hips, “Lemme,” he mumbles, and he flexes gently his hips up, slowly feeding his cock into your soaked core and kiss your neck again to distract you from the potential pain.  

You're gasping for air, you moan softly in pleasure, the heat of his mouth on your skin igniting the fire within you. You've never felt anything like this before, and you never want it to end.

When you finally sink to the depths, the pair of you moan out loudly in unison.

Anakin buries his face in your neck, “Now, don’t move. Just don’t move.” He grunts once again.

You nod a little too vigorously, which creates a slight movement in your hips, and because of that you feel Anakin pulse from inside of you.

he manage laughs falsely and grips your hips more firmly “What did i say?”

“S- Sorry” You whisper as you feel his wet lips brush against your breasts which makes you throw your head back.

“If you move again,” Anakin begins to say, panting, “I'll leave the Jedi order and do what I should have done a long time ago.”

Anakin always wanted to fuck you properly and it drove him crazy not to be able to do it.

“D - Don’t try to tempt me, Anakin” You managed to say, saying in your head to yourself,  

Don’t even move.

But Anakin brings you out of your thoughts by licking gently your neck, making you clench around him, causing him to groan deep against your neck.

“I'm warning you, this is the last time.” He says, gritting his teeth and gripping your hips even more firmly, but not enough to hurt. 

“It’s all your fault this time” You whimper as you tighten your grip on his shoulders. 

“Just stay still,” He said firmly, concentrating on not moving and coming inside you.

[hellsslibrary]

Hi, I don't really have an idea in mind but I'm heavily craving a subby Simeon if you don't mind making my request? He's such a lovely angel.. Maybe you could make it about praising him as we take him.

"Such a handsome... I could eat you whole right now."

#a.n. : this was so sweet to write that it turned into worship, lmao.

!!Warnings: sub!bottom!Simeon, dom!top!Male!Reader, vanilla sex in general, praise kink, worship(I got carried away, you know...), Reader is MC, handjob, nipple play, open final, almost the entire text is foreplay and only the end is the beginning of sex, fingering, MANY kisses.

"Mmm, you're too focused, MC, you know?" Simeon’s voice echoes through the room as he looks down at you with a smile as moans escape his lips.

Your hand moves at a smooth pace along his shaft, rubbing the sensitive head, which has already begun to produce pre-cum. Your lips kiss his chest, covering his chocolate skin with hot, wet hickeys.

“So what? I should be focused on making sure such a beautiful angel is completely satisfied at the hands of me,” You whisper, feeling his cock twitch slightly in your palm and you lightly press the slit of his cock, causing him to jerk it hips with a whimper.

His green eyes close in pleasure as your tongue licks his nipple, pulling it into your mouth, sucking on the sensitive bud. When he feels your hand finally begin to massage and pump his cock faster, he feels the warmth spread throughout his body.

The soft touches send shivers down his spine, igniting a fire deep within him. Your lips touch his chest and neck with tender kisses that make him melt in your arms.

Your breath caresses the skin of his neck as you nip at the sensitive area just below his earlobe. Simeon feels your hot breath on his skin, making every inch of it tingle.

As you continue to tease and kiss the angel, your hands move up, gently cupping and squeezing one of his nipples between your fingers, an action that sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of his being.

The sensation is like no other; time seems to stand still for these precious moments that you share in each other's arms, inducing feelings of peace in each other.

“You’re doing this on purpose...” Simeon says, licking his dry lips, which makes you pull yourself up to meet him and kiss him.

He moans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around your neck in a spasmodic, needy motion. His hands pull you closer as you explore each other's mouths, causing the angel's hips to involuntarily arch towards your hand.

“M-mc... Please be a little faster,” Simeon whispers as you both pull away from the kiss, he’s out of breath, red, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, which you wipe away.

Both of your gazes drop down almost in sync and Simeon is more than happy to spread his legs wider for you. You spit on his hole, causing it to clench around the emptiness, causing you to let out a throaty chuckle.

Your finger circles his rim and then you slowly push in, knuckle by knuckle, until he's all the way inside and you lower your mouth back down to Simeon's neck.

"MC! This... Oh, d-don't stop, please don't," He pleads in a low voice, on the verge of tears as your lips seem to want to cover every part of his neck, considering how thoroughly you kiss him there.

"Oh yeah? My pretty little angel feels good and nice, right? Then I'll make sure that later your little head will be filled with just me and the pleasure flowing exponentially, okay?" Your voice sounds sweet against his ear as you lick the shell of his ear, causing his body to press closer to the bed, whining pitifully and nodding.

Your finger slid into him without difficulty, moving inside his walls, trying to find the very place that would make him literally scream. Not that he didn't look handsome right now, just moaning. Quite the contrary, he was divine, although what else could you expect from an angel?

"So beautiful... You know what? I can't believe that you give yourself to me so easily, being a holy being. Either I was lucky, or my prayers were answered," You say more in a joking manner than in a serious manner, but when you see Simeon's eyes literally roll to the back of his head as his eyes crack open for a second, you understand.

He took this seriously, perhaps even too seriously.

A devilish grin appeared on your lips, absolutely the opposite of his entire being. Although perhaps these are only the consequences of your life with 7 demons, oh well, about the reasons later.

A second one was soon added to your finger, and your hand finally began to move much more actively on his dick, causing Simeon’s fingers to grab the sheets, getting tangled in them. His eyes widen in surprise, and a groan of pleasure escapes from his parted mouth, so surprisingly high-pitched, but pleasant to the ears.

“I beg you... St-start already... I can’t stand it anymore, I be-beg you,” He whispers as tears of pleasure begin to flow down his cheeks, which you immediately lick off, looking at his dick when you realize that he has come, but you don’t stop for a second.

"Are you sure? Not too sensitive right now, baby?" Simeon shakes his head at your question, removing your hand from his cock and placing it next to his head, intertwining your fingers.

“Just do it, please... I want you... Inside,” Angel whispers coyly, causing your dick to twitch in your pants and you can feel the threads of your self-control snapping one by one.

He was divine. A literal creation of God that must be pure and undefiled. But he lay underneath you, red, out of breath, sweaty, with his own cum all over his stomach, begging you to fuck him. You'd probably break your knees if it meant forever worshiping his body, his soul, his whole self.

“Fuck, okay,” You whisper impatiently, tugging at your pants, not bothering to remove them completely.

You stick your dick out and reach for two items on the nightstand. The first thing you do is tear off the pack of condoms with your teeth, pulling the rubber onto your shaft, slightly hissing from the cold on such hot flesh. And the second thing you do is coat your dick in the lube, eagerly but completely, making sure your dick is completely covered in it.

"I'm ready..."

You look back up, putting away the jar of lube and fuck... He lies in front of you, taking his own legs under his knees and spreading them with his lips slightly pursed from embarrassment... And fuck...

“You deserve your own religion, Sim,” You whisper as you penetrate him, causing him to groan and hiccup in surprise at your words, but he eventually relaxes, wrapping his arms around your neck.

[hyunverse]

hii!! how ru?? i hope u have/had a lovely day~ :33

so i was thinking for the fluff reqs, maybe hyunjin and reader are just chilling at home and hyunjin starts crying bcs he loves the reader too much and he's overwhelmed??

if not ignore- tyy <3333

hi my sweet i'm doing good! ugh i love soft hyune <3 brb gonna cry as i write this... 😵‍💫

hyunjin, who loves spending his free time with you. the digital clock displays 10:00 p.m, and you're laying in his arms. his arms lazily wrapped around you provides warmth, contrasting the coldness of the sheets.

you're reading, too absorbed in the material to notice hyunjin's eyes boring holes into your skin. he finds himself doing this often — admiring your face during mundane moments when you won't realize his adoring gaze. sometimes, on nights where hyunjin can't sleep, he'd spend a solid hour watching you sleep. he'd admire each feature on your face, engraving each detail into his mind.

and then, you hear a little sniffle. when you look up, you're met by the sight of hyunjin's teary eyes, one of his hands carding through the strands of your hair. he's not fully crying, no — but you couldn't help but worry.

"what's wrong, hyune?"

"nothing," he says, inching his body closer towards you for warmth. "just love you a lot."

amidst the darkness of the night, he hides his face in the crook of your neck, sniffling — heart heavy, but full of love.

apologies for the delay i ran out of creativity juice 🧃👎

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

G🎸🥵🎀

Golden boy

Words: 989

Rated: E

Tags: Post-Vecna; Established relationship; Scars; Trauma; Dom!Eddie; Sub;Steve; Collars; Leashes; Choking; Butt plugs; Edging; Kink negotiation; Stoplight system

“Oh,” Eddie says, like he only just remembered. “I got you something from Indy.” 

Steve blinks sluggishly. He’s slipped into that pleasant, floaty headspace that he’s only ever able to find with Eddie. Everything is fuzzy around the edges, even the movie they’ve put on reduced to a dull drone in the background. He can't for the life of him remember which one it is. 

“Hm?” he murmurs - a barely there hum against Eddie’s skin, where his face is tugged into the crook of his neck. “Like a gift? ‘s not even my birthday.” 

“Oh,” Eddie chuckles, fingers tracing down the scars on Steve's back, coming to rest on the curve of his ass. “But what better way to spend that gig money than a present for my good boy? You've been good, haven't you, Stevie?” 

His hand slides between Steve’s ass cheeks and Steve gasps. 

“Yes. Yes, I've been good.” 

“Shhh, baby, I know you have,” Eddie coos, lightly flicking the base of the plug. Steve moans but doesn't buck, even though his naked cock is starting to strain against the fabric of Eddie’s jeans. “Wearing this for me, not touching yourself all week. You've been so, so good for me. And good boys get rewards, yeah?” 

He retrieves something from the sofa cushions and presses it into Steve’s hands. A flat, black box. It’s wrapped in a broad gold ribbon made of delicate tulle. It shimmers in the low light as Steve pulls open the knot, and for a second he's afraid it'll come apart under his touch. He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, dark and intense, as he lifts the lid off the box. 

Inside, nestled on a velvet pillow, is a collar. Soft, tan leather with a gold buckle and a little o-ring to match. Steve’s stomach drops right out of his body.

“I- … no,” he hears himself murmur. “No way, I'm not doing that.” 

He doesn't even realize he's been trying to scramble off Eddie’s lap before those calloused fingers are on his hips, steadying him with gentle pressure. Not enough to keep him from getting away, should he put his mind to it. Just a firm, grounding reminder that Eddie has got him, that he's safe. 

“Woah,” Eddie mutters. “Okay, I think we need a check-in. Color?” 

Steve swallows and feels his throat bop around the lump that has lodged itself in there.

“Yellow? Listen, I'm sorry, I know we talked about this and I said I thought I might like it, but-” 

“But the real thing is different from the thought?” Eddie's voice is a low, soothing murmur. His thumbs are massaging little circles into the skin over Steve’s hip bones. 

“Yeah,” Steve says. Licks his lips. His eyes flicker back to the collar. “No. I dunno, it's weird. I thought I could do it, but …” 

He trails off, fingers brushing absentmindedly over the scar on his neck. Eddie’s eyes follow the movement and Steve's stomach coils with embarrassment. He knows Eddie has been looking forward to this all week, at least as much as himself. Way to ruin the mood. 

“I'm sorry,” he says again. “I should be over it by now.” 

Eddie shakes his head, smile fond, and sets the box with the collar aside. “Nah, big boy. You'll be ready when you're ready. Doesn't matter if that's next month, or next year, or never at all. Okay?” 

Steve nods, breathless, speechless. Something soft blooms in his chest, settling warm and tight in his abdomen as Eddie pulls him in for a kiss. 

“What do you like about it?” 

“Huh?” Steve says. Eddie has pulled back just enough to speak. Steve can feel the shape of the words against his lips.

“If you wanted to try this, that means there must be something you like about the idea. Tell me what it is?” 

Steve wets his lips.

“I, um … I like the idea of being yours, I guess. Of you putting something on me to remind me of that. To remind me you're in control.”

“I see,” Eddie hums. And then his fingers wrap around Steve's throat, a barely there pressure against his pulse, and Steve freezes. “So, how's this, color-wise?” 

“Green,” Steve gasps. His hips start rolling of their own accord, flushed cock grinding into Eddie’s lap. “So very fucking green. Eddie, please-” 

Eddie uses the hand against his throat to guide him into another kiss. Holds him in place while he takes his sweet time coaxing Steve’s lips apart, fucking his tongue into his mouth with slow, languid motions. It takes a long while until he allows them to part for breath, and even longer for Steve’s vision to swim back into focus. 

When it does, Eddie's hand is no longer on his throat. Instead, it's dangling the golden tulle ribbon between them, light and transparent as air. 

“Green,” Steve is whispering before he even knows he's made the decision. “Green, green, green. Fuck, Eddie, please!” 

The fabric feels cool and ticklish as it settles against his skin, and he knows that one sudden move would be all it takes to free himself. Also knows he’d never want to break free. Not when Eddie’s eyes are full of that burning adoration, not when it feels so good, being at his mercy.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes. He lets the long ends of the ribbon rest in his hand, like a leash. “You look amazing in gold.”

“Y-yeah?” Steve asks. He feels dizzy - drunk in the best possible way. He's naked and collared and completely in Eddie’s control, and he never wants to be anywhere else. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agrees. “But you know where you'd look even better?” 

He tugs on the makeshift leash, smile turning sharp when Steve moans in response. 

“On your knees between my legs, hands behind your back.” 

Oh, right. Turns out there is a place Steve would like to be even better. 

More celebration ficlets

[welcomedepression]

Cw: 18+ only!

Beach romance (;

The sound of crashing waves on the shore, was soothing, the sun beaming down on my body as I sun bathe on the sand, my red skimpy bikini made heads turn, the roundness of my plump ass, the slenderness of my back, my soft glistening skin, I let out a content sigh.

Konig had sat next to me, I hadn't opened my eyes, but I knew it was him, I could tell my his heavy breathing, his masculine scent, I knew what he wanted.

"Liebling, let's go to the bathroom really quick." His thick German accent laced with dominance. I wasn't going to give in just yet. I'd make him work for it.

"No, I'm tanning, maybe later." He leaned towards my ear, his hand trailing up and down my back.

"I wasn't asking, I'm telling you, now." he growled, he was getting annoyed by my defiance.

"And I said, maybe later." He wasn't taking no for an answer. He squeezed the back of my neck firmly, just enough to let me know he was serious.

"You know what happens when I ask 3 times, kleine Maus." Pulling me up to my feet, I followed him to the bathroom, his tall muscular frame, his arms, legs, even his ass would make any woman drool, they hadn't seen his handsome face like I have.

"I was enjoying my tanning." I rolled my eyes, pushing him away. He moved his hand to the side of me,  leaving me trapped between his hands, I looked up at him, seeing the desire in his eyes. My heart skipped a beat.

"I don't care, I need you right now." kissing my neck softly, nipping at the delicate skin with his teeth. I let out a groan. He left kisses across my jawline to my lips as we make out.

His hand squeezed my round perky breasts gently, periodically pinching my nipples through the fabric of the bikini top. I moan into the kiss as our bodies press against each other.

He was gripping my waist as his thumb travels down over my stomach, leaving me with butterflies. His hand slipped inside my bikini bottom as his finger flit up and down my wet slit, gasping. My hands rubbed his muscular chest, and then I  buried my face between them, and they felt just like pillows.

"Hurry!" I begged, he chuckles and shakes his head. His mouth explores my collar bone, nibbling  at the tender flesh, until he wraps his mouth around my nipple, flicking it with his tongue and sucking it, from time to time rolling the nipple between his teeth.

My mind is in a frenzy, I grab his cock, squeezing that hard flesh, his hands grabbing my wrists pulling out away from his manhood. "You didn't earn that." he says playfully, focusing his attention back to my breasts.

"Please, I can't take the teasing anymore." I begged, tears forming in my eyes. He kisses me again. After some time, he drops his pants, making a thud on the floor.

Pulling my bottom to the side, he glides his cock between my folds, it was like velvet over steel, as he teased my sopping wet hole.

"Ready, Liebling?" I nod. Getting into position for our soon to be heated romance.

[hockeyboistrash]

our wedding | s.j

Seth was someone who always had to touch you somehow, whether that was the small of your back or holding your hand, but when he's had a few too many beers it would worsen. His filter had also gone, words just spilled out of his mouth without thinking about it, more than usual. It's why one hand was on your thigh while his other arm was across the back of your chair, laughing at something his teammate said. Seth had no idea that your mind was currently spinning, his words on repeat.

'We should have this at our wedding'

He wasn't talking about his own wedding with some random girl. He was talking about yours. It didn't freak you out. It just wasn't something you expected Seth to say casually. Neither of you have discussed the future of your relationship, happy to just take it one step at a time.

"Is everything okay?" Seth asked, bringing you out of your inner though spiral. Everyone at the table were looking at you like they were waiting for an answer to a question someone asked you.

"Yeah, everything is great." You told him, hoping your smile didn't come across as forced. "I'm just going to grab us some water." You pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek before you got up to head to the bar.

Sebastian's wedding was beautiful, the reception hall was decorated enough that it wasn't over the top. There was an open bar which probably wasn't a good idea for a bunch of hockey players who were now on their summer break. Music flowed through the speakers as everyone danced on the dancefloor. The atmosphere was good, something you wanted at your own wedding. 'Damn Seth and his comment' you grumbled to yourself. You never had thoughts like this before but now they were creeping in thanks to your boyfriend.

"Is this because of what Seth said?" One of the girls asked, sliding next to you at the bar. You often sat near her on game day as she was the partner of one of Seth's teammates. "You know he meant it right? The guy is in love with you. All he talks about when they're on the road is how much he misses you."

You appreciated your friend was trying to make you feel better but the thoughts continued. The what ifs. You knew you had to have this conversation one day with Seth. The two of you have been dating for a couple of years now. You were just scared to, scared that it could ruin the dynamic, scared that you could lose the love of your life.

The spiraling thoughts followed you back to the hotel room and in bed as you laid next to Seth, facing him as he recounted the evening of fun he had with his teammates. You tried to make it look like you were focusing on every word that came out of his mouth but Seth noticed you were distracted. "Are you sure everything is okay?" He asked repeating the same question he asked earlier.

This was it. There was no hiding no matter how scared you were. You looked up at him, taking in every inch of your boyfriend. "Did you mean it? When you said 'our wedding' earlier." Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but Seth heard you.

"Of course I meant it." Seth scoffed as if you said the most ridiculous thing. "I can't imagine my life without you. Whenever I think about my future you're always there by my side."

"I'm sorry." You shook your head, realizing how stupid you must have sounded.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing. I guess I just assumed we were on the same page even though we never spoke about it before." He said. "I'm sorry I sprung it on you in the middle of the reception and freaking you out."

"You didn't freak me out, Seth." You assured him. "It threw me a little that's all. We've never spoken about marriage and the future before."

"Well I want to marry you." Seth admitted, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him. "Not any time soon but eventually. And I want to get a house with a garden where we can grow old together."

"I want that too." You grinned, your previous worries melting away with the kiss you pressed against his lips.

Seth deepened the kiss as your arms snaked around his neck and his hands fell to your hips. "I love you so much." He mumbled against your lips.

"I love you too."

[cadashhh]

sweet talking john price

minors - do not interact.

part 3 of the poly 141 x librarian!reader idea

please tell me how i have been hyperfixated on SO MANY video games i've actually played over the past couple of years, but only have the inspo to write for the MILITARY PROPAGANDA GAME i have never, ever played.

anyway, this goes out to the price fans. i fully intended to post my ghost stuff next but my girlfriend is a price girlie so! ghost up next!

pairings: john price x reader, poly 141 x reader

warnings: geez um lots of sweet talk and praise, john price is a lil treat boyf and no one can change my mind, reader probably maybe definitely beginning to fall in love, surely some COD canon/lore inaccuracies, reader is FAT and gender neutral, spanking, sex in front of a mirror, big boys smooching

"there's my favorite librarian."

you could recognize john price's voice anywhere. you'd only met him a few months ago, known him even less, and still you can recognize the familiar timber and tones of his deep, rumbling accent. it's comforting. it drives you mad. you blush slightly as you turn around to face him and he's quick to cover your rosy cheeks with his lips in a chaste kiss.

"how's your day going, lovely?"

you try to say good and shrug it off, but john stares at you wordlessly before you continue, going into detail about your mundane workday. your activities were never exciting or noteworthy, but john always listened earnestly. he made a point to visit you during your shifts, bringing your favorite treats and occupying the time between patrons. though he never claimed to be volunteering like gaz, john would follow you around the library for hours, helping you with tasks and listening to you ramble about call numbers and bestsellers. he didn't speak about himself too often, especially not his military experience, but when the library was especially slow he would indulge you in a few vague peeks behind the curtain.

his middle name is michael. he grew up in england in the 70s and doesn't care too much for football. he likes his steak medium and his coffee with just one sugar. he has trouble hearing out of his right ear, but won't tell you about the mission that caused it. he's reluctant to get another dog, despite soap's pleading. his boyfriends are his world and it shows in not just his words, but his actions. most evenings, he enjoys a cigar and glass of scotch on the porch of their house out in the country. the past few weeks, that ritual has included you, sandwiched in between the four of them on the porch swing.

it's comforting. it drives you mad.

they're beautiful together. a complete unit. and they've worked so hard to integrate you into their family that you don't even have to wonder where you fit in. your place is right there, with them, because they make the space for you.

"pretty as a picture," price says one evening, the last to join the group on the porch swing. he even takes a moment to pull out his weathered and ancient cell phone to snap a photo of all of you. when he turns it around to show you, you blush at how happy you look. your smile is wide and unafraid, like you've never been hurt in your life. ghost's large arm wraps around soap, his palm settling on your shoulder. gaz turned just in time to press his lips to your temple, his hand already exploring the expanse of your bare thigh.

they like you in as little as possible and got lucky that your summer wardrobe mostly consisted of short shorts and barely there crop tops. you would catch them staring from across a room or field, eyeing the way your dimpled thighs jiggle with each step.

sometimes they can't just watch. and when john price gets the urge to fuck you, he fucks you. he could be elbow deep in fertilizer and compost, setting up the garden you offhandedly mentioned desiring, and he would drop everything to slide between your thighs. he gives just as good as he takes and more often than not you find yourself wearing your skimpiest clothes out to the 141 haven to trigger a reaction. the more john is exposed to your naked form, the more feral he goes for you.

"you were made for me, so soft," john growls against your ear before he's pushing at your shoulders, bending you forward and presenting your ass to him. "been thinking about you all day, love. take those shorts off for me, why don't you?"

no matter how fast you can wiggle and squirm, it isn't quick enough for price. you know he's going to spank you before it even happens.

"love the way your fat arse moves." he grabs next, his entire palm claiming an ass cheek, fingertips digging into the flesh. you hope they bruise.

"john, please--"

"please what, love?" you don't need to see him to hear the grin in his gravelly tone. he spanks you again before you can answer, quick to massage the skin and dissipate the sting -- or prolong it, you're never sure. "if you want my cock you'll have to ask nicer than that."

you push out a half-hearted, whining, "please." you like to test him every now and again.

he laughs, slapping your ass so hard it pushes a moan from your lips. his free hand finds the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging back harshly until you can almost make out his face in your periphery. "mind your manners this time, pretty."

"please fuck me john. i need your cock." the words come out in a jumble, hardly passing for separate syllables. you come twice before he finally complies -- and then you're well and truly fucked.

later, when you're assessing the damage in the full length mirror nestled between the door of john's room and his closet, you count at least five fresh bruises on your ass cheeks. when john enters the room and sees you counting, pressing your smaller fingertips into each mark, he takes you again right in front of the mirror. he gropes your curves, worships your body through gritted teeth. your legs spread the entire time, exposing where he enters you. the others watch, enraptured, and you're able to see them kissing and pawing at each other in the reflection.

it's comforting. it drives you mad.

[tokkiwrites]

✿ Write your name all over my lips. ⬞ ׄ

marc spector x f!reader

summary: you can't fall asleep, so as dawn cracks, Marc decides that sleep is overrated anyway.

tags: fluff!!, fingering f receiving, light choking, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, creampie, afab reader, lmk if i missed anything!

↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ i am back!!! this is pretty short at around 1.43k words. its fluff followed by a bit of smut, just two idiots in love. not proofread!!! enjoy muah

Marc isn't one to indulge in many comforts, but being with you is one of the few luxuries he allows himself. Typically a restless sleeper, his nights transform when you're beside him. He slumbers deeply, his weight comforting as his arm naturally finds its place around your waist. Marc becomes an immovable force until the subtlest of movements from you prompts his eyes to flutter open, still heavy with sleep.

"Go to sleep, baby.." he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep, urging you to return to the warmth of the covers.

You pause for a moment, feeling the warmth of his breath against your neck. drunk on the comfort of his presenceㅡ its something you cherishes deeply, a rare solace in your otherwise chaotic life. You can't help but smile softly at his concern."I was just trying to get comfortable," you whisper back, voice barely audible in the quiet room. You shift slightly, finding a better position, and his grip on your waist tightens instinctively, pulling her closer. The corners of Marc's lips quirk up faintly at this, his eyes half closed again as his face presses against your shoulder. His facial stubble slightly scratches against your skin, planting little kisses that lay onto you like flowers. "It's five a.m, angel," he mumbles, his voice filled with sleep. "...you should be sleeping."

You sigh softly, fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm that's wrapped around you. "I know," you reply. "I just can't help it sometimes." Marc shifts slightly, his grip on your body shifting a bit lower, arm now settled around your hips. "Just relax," he murmurs, his voice a soothing rumble, as he caresses your skin. "I'm right here."

You feel a wave of calm envelop you, his presence a soothing balm against your restless mind. With a soft sigh, you relax into his embrace, your body molding perfectly against his. The rhythm of his breathing, steady and reassuring, lulls you further into a state of peace. Marc's hand continues its gentle caress along your hip, his touch light yet grounding. He nuzzles closer, the scent of your hair filling his senses.

Marc takes a moment to fully wake, his lips planting soft kisses along the side of your neck before he lets out a low, sleepy hum. "I love you," he mumbles, a phrase rarely spoken but deeply felt.

His whispered confession reaches your ears, stirring a whirlwind of emotions in your heart. Even in the haze of drowsiness, his words carry weight, sinking deep into your consciousness. You draw closer to him, your fingers caressing his arm in a silent acknowledgment. Marc's kisses, like delicate rays of light, dance along your neck, each one a testament. As his lips graze your skin, a sense of tranquility washes over you, dissolving any lingering tension. "I love you," you whisper softly, the words an echo.

You can practically feel the low hum of resonating from Marc, his thumb tracing gentle circles along your hip as he presses another tender kiss to your shoulder. He draws you closer, his body still weighted with sleep but his mind gradually awakening, his senses sharpening with each passing moment. Another kiss graces your shoulder, then your ear, his lips writing a song beyond words. "I love you so much, baby" he whispers once more, his warm breath caressing your skin as his hand slips past the hem of your shorts. "Marc..." you giggle, his groggy sending soft vibrations down your whole body.

"What are you doing?" you ask softly as you feel his hand snake its way under your shirt, his palm slowly massaging your breasts, fingers flicking lightly at the already pebbled nipples. You squirm slightly, half-heartedly trying to push his hand away, but his persistence only makes you laugh. "It's too early for this," you protest, though your tone lacks any real conviction."Too early to show my love?" he teases, his fingers dancing over your skin. "I don't think so." He shifts closer, his body pressing against yours, so now you can better feel his hard-on resting onto your lower back.

The world outside might be waking up, but in this moment, it feels like it's just the two of you, lost in a bubble.

You can feel a familiar heat spread through your whole body as Marc finally pushes his hands past the hem of your pants and squeezes at your hip lightly, "No panties, baby?" he teases, aware of how wet you were right now, as his hot whispers drag along your neck and plummeting that feeling into your cunt. " 's hot-" you manage to stutter put, one low hum as his response. "hm." Marc traps your ear between his teeth before his other arm snakes from under you and over your chest, his rough palm now wrapped around your neck. you gasp and swallow back a moan. "need you so bad, baby..." he admits, the hand in your pants traveling lower to your belly then finally between your legs. When his fingers make contact with your folds, Marc lets out a soft laugh, " 's that why you couldn't sleep, angel?" he inquired " because i didn’t dick you down last night?" you whine, "Marc.." you softly call out as his grip on your throat tightness. "what? i don't fuck you one night and you become an insomniac?" his voice is now lower, rougher and his strokes between your legs quickened. "You're so wet 'n I barely touched you.. " he tuts. "Marc, please.."

"What's that?" Marc decides to play a little more, the fingers from your neck trailing up and between your parted lips, catching you off guard. "Didn't you learn not to talk with your mouth full, baby?" you whine yet again, shaking against his unwavering grasp, two of his fingers finally slipping inside of your velvety walls. "Fuck.." Marc mutters. "You sound so pretty when you get desperate for my cock.." he moves his fingers at a reasonable pace, the ones inside your mouth entangled with your tongue. "You're so pretty, angel.." all you can do is moan around his digits and shut your eyes as he whispers his sweet venom. he always knows what to do. "Can I fuck you, baby..?" he moans against your hair. "Please..." you moan back.

with that, he starts removing his briefs, as one hand pushes you on your back. "Like thisㅡ" he says, as he positions himself between your legs, "So I can see your beautiful face while I fuck you."

Marc leans down to capture your lips into another kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, igniting a spark within your core. The kiss deepens, filled with an intensity that speaks of desire. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as his fingers trace delicate patterns on your skin. The world around you blurs as he pushes inside of you, and you hiss softly through the kiss. Marc starts to move slowly, moving his hips the same rhythm as your heart that pounding against your chest. "I can never get enough of you.." he growls through broken grunts as he moves into you, your walls clenching around him. "Marc, godㅡ" he leans down again, planting soft pecks across your collar bones and down to your breasts. "yeah? c'mon baby, tell me how good it feels."

"feels so good.." Your moans echo through his head like a melody, and you can feel Marc's grip onto your waist growing tighter. the familiar pool into your lower belly makes its presence known as your back arches against the matter, Marc's hand slipping under you as his lips write kisses from your chest to your bellybutton. "I'm so close, Marc -" Your little cries are enough to send him over the edge. "I love you so much, angel, shitㅡ" he closes his eyes, forehead resting agains you as his hips buckle and he starts releasing ropes of hot liquid inside of you, the feeling overwhelming and suffocating for you. you wait for him to calm down a bit before you bring your hands to his face and pull him up for another kiss. "Let's get cleaned up, ok?" You ask softly, and he chuckles. "I'm not done with you, baby. I need to have my breakfast."