#anyway posting this here first cause its so late

[triona-tribblescore]

"Sunburn" by The Living Tombstone is so them coded im insane over it

[skitskatdacat63]

This is a special genre of f1 picture(to ME.)

[todayisafridaynight]

Shadow the hedgehog cartoon announcement sorry everyone im gonna hermit away four months in advanced so i can be optimally annoying when they talk about it

[nereidprinc3ss]

hourglass

in which spencer disappears from fem!reader's life entirely for three months, right as it seems they were finally about to make things official. when he comes back they reunite, all the while knowing things can't be the same as they were.

18+ (smut, angst) warnings/tags: oh god so many. NOT canon compliant in the slightest, i make shit up, softdom!spence, nipple stuff prob, fingering, oral f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, pet names, tara mentioned, depression, mentions of trauma cause its the prison arc duh, passing mentions of alcohol, mentions of spencer losing weight, reader mistakenly thinks spencer tried to kill himself BUT ONLY FOR A SECOND, where is diana reid, nobody knows or cares, probably filming glee, optimistic ending a/n: haven't posted smut in forever but this wip required it and the angst was so angsty i just had to finish it. it was started in jan or feb and subsequently added to and changed months apart and then edited so the writing quality varies from section to section which i apologize for. originally based on good guy by julia jacklin... also the odyssey by homer? can't really explain that one you'll just have to see for yourself anyway byeeee ilysm!!! PLS tell me if you liked it! or if you hated it! but preferably if you liked it! MWAH! wc <12k

It’s been about three months since you last saw Spencer Reid.

About three months since you had an early Valentine’s Day celebration (even though you weren’t a couple) complete with champagne (even though he doesn’t usually drink) and slow dancing (even though you swore you’d be terrible and he spent the first ten minutes laughing at you as you stepped on his toes.)

About three months since you finally settled your head on his shoulder and let the warbling vinyl carry you somewhere distant as the two of you danced slow circles on the parquet floor for what felt like hours.

You’d have liked him to stay later that night. You’d have liked him to stay all night if you were being honest with yourself, but at 11:45 he gently pulled away and told you he had to go.

“Curfew?” you joked, the corner of your mouth lifting a little and you hoped you were hiding your disappointment well.

“Actually, I’m going down to Texas for a few days to speak with one of the leading doctors in experimental Alzheimer's and dementia treatment. I’m going to see if he can get my mom into a clinical trial. I leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing, Spencer! What are you doing still here? You should be at home getting ready to go!”

A rosy blush stains his cheeks and he looks down at the ground, laughing that little self-deprecating laugh of his. It makes your heart dance to see him so happy, makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go so that he knows how much you absolutely adore him—but you settle for an affectionate squeeze where your hands have come to rest on his biceps.

“I wanted to see you tonight because I won’t be here for Valentine’s Day... but I still really wanted to spend it with you,” he admits meekly.

If before your heart was dancing, it is now melting.

The dreaded ‘what are we’ talk has been lurking in the dark corners of every conversation you have with each other lately—at least, in your mind it has. What you have with Spencer is not easily defined, and near impossible to explain to your friends—you act like a couple, you go out on dates, he introduces you to his team like you’re his girlfriend without ever putting it into so many words—but this validation that your pseudo-relationship might be evolving is better than any flowers he could have gotten you (although the peonies he brought will look very nice on your bedside table.)

“Four whole days... what will I do without you?” you whisper, brushing a hand along his face, and your chest aches with the heavy truth of it—despite the fact that he often is gone for stretches about that length. They don’t ever start to feel shorter.

“Well, you can start by reading that copy of The Odyssey I annotated for you.”

“Depressing,” you admit. “And a little ominous, considering you’re about to embark on a hero’s journey.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he smiles.

You chew on your bottom lip, looking up at him as you think.

“Give me something to look forward to,” you say, earnestly.

“I—well, honestly, I just really want to kiss you and I’ve wanted to for a long time now and, you know, if that’s something you’re maybe also interested in then we could, uh, figure out a time to—”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Wh—you couldn’t tell?” Spencer says, like he can’t believe it.

As if on reflex, you lunge up and capture his lips with your own. It obviously catches him by surprise, but when you lower from your tiptoes he follows you, pulling you in closer and holding your face in his hands.

It’s too natural, too right, to be exhilarating. There’s no rush of adrenaline—it's more like stepping into a hot bath or warming your freezing hands at a fire. Like pieces clicking into place. It’s a relief.

You breathe into it, letting more and more of yourself melt against him. He keeps coming back to you deeper and deeper like a rising tide, and you want more than anything to keep getting closer to him—but then he stops. He stays close enough for you to breathe his air, but dodges your kiss gently before supplanting it with a gentle one to the corner of your mouth.

“I really have to go,” he breathes, before moving away from your mouth to kiss your forehead and speak softly against your skin. “If I don’t leave now I’ll be here all night.”

Which is exactly what you want, and the implication does little to make you want him less. But you care about him too much to be so selfish.

At some point, his hands found their way into your hair, and you gently grab his wrists.

“Incentive for you to come home.”

Nearly three months since that night.

At first when he stopped answering texts, you’d assumed he just had too much going on down in Texas. Which you could understand—you knew how stressful this situation with his mother was.

Even when four days came and went without even an alert from him that he was back in town, you thought, okay, maybe he’s been called away on a case. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s disappeared because of his work. But even then, he’d at least text you enough information so that you would know he was alive. Now, radio silence.

So you tried not to be clingy. You tried to act like an adult, to focus on school and your life outside of Spencer, but when Tara Lewis cancelled your weekly meeting due to an “unforeseen work-related emergency”you called her immediately. Tara was something of a mentor, and it was she who had connected you and Spencer to begin with. You had met the other members of his team by that point, yes, but none who you knew as well as Tara.

When she had informed you that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico and was now facing prison time for murder, you laughed.

Laughed until you realized her end of the line was silent.

Realized it was not at all a joke.

In a catatonic state of tranquility, you asked her for more details. Beyond assuring you of his innocence, she couldn’t (or more likely, wouldn’t) provide them. Asked where he was now. Asked all the right things that made sense to ask.

Then you hung up and had a panic attack because Tara said something about 25 years and you saw Spencer evaporate from your future like an apparition.

Slowly, you felt him evaporating from your past, too. Those memories from the night he left, became visions of you swaying with a ghost. Holding nothing but light between your hands as you kissed the peony air of your apartment.

He doesn’t want to see you, she had said into the phone one night, her tinny voice cutting in and out. You’re not on his list of approved visitors.

“You asked him about me?” you had whispered, curled up on top of your made bed in the dark.

I tried. I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I know more.

All your days melded together like a muddied smear of paint. Suddenly you felt you had nothing to look forward to. No anchor, no goal. Yes, a PhD... and then what?

The only thing that punctuated one 24 hour period from the next was the time you spent crying because Spencer was in prison and he didn’t want to see you and by the looks of things you may never see him again. When you weren’t crying, you were thinking about how your life was a big cosmic joke. An unfortunate statistical anomaly that didn’t mean anything to anyone else, and that you couldn’t do anything about.

That copy of The Odyssey, which wasn’t even bound and instead was a thick stack of printer paper organized by a single black clip, became something of a manifesto for you—a tome that your poured over, reading and re-reading each note in the margins, each word beautiful and imbued with meaning because you knew Spencer had selected every single one specifically for you. You traced the letters reverently, because in a way this was the last thing he had said to you—about Lattimore’s faith to the original text, Merrill’s strict use of dactylic hexameter, the stylings of Wilson and Lombardo, and how he thought you would enjoy Hammond’s prose just as much as he did.

Day by day it was becoming more prophetic than fictional, and you allowed yourself to sink into madness. You would rather be a deluded zealot than be nothing at all.

He didn’t want to see you.

He might as well have been dead, for all that you were grieving him. And you started to hate him, because he wasn’t dead, but wouldn’t do you the kindness of proving it. Like a festering wound, scratched open day after day so as not to ever heal, you had to live knowing he was less than an hour away. So no, you weren’t exactly over it. You lived day by day, waiting for the occasional call from Tara to keep you updated on Spencer, but either she didn’t want to share much about how he was doing, or he had specifically barred her from doing so, because she was always sparse on the personal side of things. That thought actually lifted your spirits, because it meant he was at least acknowledging your existence in some tiny way.

But your routine was becoming more regular, and so you staid on top of your classes and your non-Reid related meetings with Tara once a week, and you learned to dip your toes into existential dread and the oily black pool of depression every night without ever fully submerging yourself. You learned hope, because it was pretty much all you had, and the BAU had confidence that they would get Spencer out one way or another so you did too.

So you didn’t really think about it when you missed a couple of calls from Tara some evening in May. You were preparing for finals and had way too much on your plate academically to think about anything else which was a welcome relief so you fully embraced it. I’ll call her back tomorrow, you think, as you clean up from dinner before going back to the living room where your textbooks and papers are completely covering every available surface. Maybe I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life after school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t even make it that far.

Hours later, well into the night, you’d all but forgotten about the calls. A knock at the door takes you a bit by surprise, and you frown as you stand again, tugging your Georgetown sweatshirt down over your shorts as you shuffle to the entrance of your apartment. You’re not expecting anyone, so you crack the door, peering around the edge of it.

And you couldn’t even consider trying to hide that shaky inhalation of dead air when you see Spencer standing on the other side.

Surely you’re hallucinating.

Surely this man in front of you who looks like he just got back from a day of work didn’t spend three months in prison pretending you didn’t exist.

He looks the same. Hair a bit longer, maybe—and gaunter even more than is normal for him. 

But it's him.

You can’t think about the apprehensive look on his face—you can’t think about the impossibility of him being here. You can’t think at all. Without your explicit permission, your body surges forward into his, and he’s real, and alive, and warm, and he is an anachronism in the hallway as he accepts everything you pour into the embrace, doesn’t flinch when you move your arms from around his waist to loop around his neck and back to his waist again with crushing force because you just can’t get him close enough.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mutters into your hair, I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry, he keeps saying, rubbing your back as you try to find a solid grip on the sleek material of his suit—try to gather all the pieces of him, already afraid he might fall apart and float away again.

“You—dis—disappeared,” you hiccup after an eternity, pulling away enough to look up at his pretty face. Tears blur your vision and darken the front of his jacket, bending the florescent lights so they form a kind of halo above his head.

Through the surreal haze you can see his throat bob.

“I know.”

He knows?

He knows?

You scoff.

“You have no fucking idea, Spencer. What the fuck is wrong with you? I—I'm—”

The hot anger is such a relief for a second, boiling the oceans of your despair into a wrathful, scorching fog, but as soon as you try to tell him how you feel, the barbed wire cuts into your throat again. You shove him away, skin burning where his hands had been.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, hands hanging uselessly at his side. There’s that kicked puppy look about him—and it’s familiar, but now there’s more damage. You don’t know anything about his time in prison, you haven’t heard a damn thing, but beneath the glassy desperation in his eyes there is an unfathomable void that seems to be preventing him from being fully present—and you realize for the first time that he is different.

It chills you.

Before, you and Spencer shared everything. There wasn’t one part of his internal machinations that you didn’t understand, nothing you kept from each other. But as you study him now from a few feet away, you realize there might as well be a yawning chasm between the two of you.

He is so different.

Those eyes look deeper. No gears turning just behind the slashes of gold and brown anymore—only an endless dark corridor that goes places you will never go.

Gone is the perpetual boyish up-turn at the corner of his lips that always made him look slightly vacant in a way that you found incredibly amusing. Something you had been so fond of, even if you teased him.

He seems to have aged ten years—if not physically, then in demeanor. And now you feel like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

You cross your arms, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

You’re embarrassed. And pissed. And relieved. Everything is worse and better. You want to fall back into his arms, but you have been jarred by the revelation that this might not be the same Spencer. It might not be the same relationship. You have no idea where you stand.

He says your name gently, with so much familiarity you’re briefly jerked into the past. It makes you wish you could look up to find him as he was three months ago. Wish this was just a bad dream. But that’s not fair to him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, studying the grey carpet fibers instead of looking at him.

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says immediately, “you’re right. I don’t—” he clears his throat— “I’m being incredibly selfish. I shouldn’t have just shown up, I’ll just—I'll leave. I’m sorry.”

A silent moment passes.

You don’t look up as he turns and swiftly begins to move down the hall toward the stairway, leaving as quickly and silently as he had come, like a few bars of a song sighed in and away on a fleeting breeze.

Your bare feet are concretely planted, imagining him jogging down the steps and speed-walking away from your building—

And suddenly you’re sprinting after him, feeling like you might puke because Spencer was just here and you let him go again—and even though you’re still so mad and confused and hurt, the realization that he is leaving again makes the entire building spin and lurch.

“Wait!” You yell, almost wiping out as you run down the stairs and whip around corners in your slippery fucking socks. “Please, wait!”

The lobby is already empty as you spill out into it, and cold dread tightens around your neck like a fist as you shoulder your way through the double doors and right into Spencer.

“Please don’t leave again, you just—I'm sorry, I really need you to not go—” you blabber, lachrymose once more, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I’m not going,” he breathes shakily. “I tried to leave because I think you were right and maybe I should and maybe it would be better for you but I can’t.”

“You can’t,” you agree, more sob than spoken word. He cups your jaw, then your cheeks, wiping tears and brushing away hair like he can’t figure out how to hold enough of you between his hands. The wild kaleidoscope of his eyes, bright and alive and real as he scans you desperately captures your attention enough to slow the tears to a trickle. He notices this and stares back, entranced.

A silent agreement is made, or maybe an inevitable fate is accepted—either way, something was set in motion three months ago and it matters to see it through. Spencer kisses you and you’re ready for it. You don’t need slow or tender. You need to feel how he feels. You need to know what he knows.

You sling your arms around his neck and he pulls you closer until you almost tip backward, chasing the bruising kiss even as you regain your footing. You want to drink him in and you do your best, breathing deeply as he kisses you deeper, backing you inside and toward the elevator.

“Is this okay?” he manages, only after blindly reaching for and mashing the up button on the wall panel.

Ideally it wouldn’t happen like this, but the world you live in obviously isn’t ideal and your personal situations as they coincide are far from ideal, so this is how it has to happen. But it’s hard to explain, and you’d rather not admit that this is so far from what you wanted for both of you and follow up with the fact that despite that you need him like you need water. So you don’t say a word as the metal doors slide open promptly. Instead you pull him in and let him press you to the chrome wall as he hits your floor button, and that very hand comes back to grab your ass like you didn’t think Spencer Reid capable of. It almost aches as his fingers dig into the flesh, but it’s a good ache because it means he’s real and he’s there.

You gasp as he hitches your leg up, arching into him. The shorts that you’re wearing leave very little to the imagination to begin with, but they become downright indecent like this.

Quickly the elevator stops and the doors hiss open. You don’t hesitate to pull Spencer by the hand down the hall. When you notice you left your door wide open, you don’t even care. Neither does he, apparently—once you’re inside he slams it shut, flipping the deadbolt while his eyes are glued to you like you’re already naked. Now Spencer is shameless in the way he drags his eyes over every curve, every place your clothes and hair are disheveled from his touch and eye-fucks you so obviously it makes your face warm. Three months ago Spencer would have at least been bashful about it when he met your eyes again, but this Spencer is far from apologetic as he pins you with his burning gaze once more. His hand stays stuck to the door like he’s holding himself back.

“Is this what you want?”

There’s an undercurrent of sorrow below the gravely arousal, like this isn’t what he wanted for the two of you either. But you’re both at the mercy of fate. This is all you have, and it might be all you can do for each other anymore. So you don’t need to say that, because he understands.

“Yeah. Yes, this is what I want.”

For just a second more he watches you from his place by the door, and there’s an unexpected softness to it. He looks at you the way he would have looked at you before. Like as long as he stays there he can entertain the idea of being that person again.

Need wins out quickly, though, and he surges forward. Immediately you’re caught in the riptide of him, helpless as he kisses you all the way to your bedroom.

He’s never been in here before. You find yourself glad it’s relatively clean—one of the pastimes you’d picked up in his absence was keeping everything tidy. It was something you could control.

A lamp glows at your bedside. You lean against the footboard of your bed, hands timidly behind your back and suddenly shy to have in him in your intimate space. Both of you set aside the heaving desperation long enough to catch your breaths, and for him to scan the room like he too is being forced to reconcile with the innate and unexpected intimacy of the moment. He cuts a harsh, dark gash in your sweetly decorated bedroom, radiating something wild and powerful and unsure of himself like a chained bull as he takes in the soft, pale bedding, the paintings and photos taped to the walls, the woven rug and the sheer drapery. His breathing slows as he studies it all—eyes eventually catching on something behind you. Looking is unnecessary. You’re sure he’s spotted the dried peonies in their ceramic vase. Or maybe the now worn stack of papers that is his Odyssey, marked up and soft around the edges from constant flipping-through.

Then Spencer looks at you, and that softness seeps in again. Along with something like... fear? Grief?

In some other universe your first time with Spencer is sweet and giggly and kind and he smiles at the decor in your room and looks around with wonder because it’s another way he gets to know you. It’s a different way to learn you from the inside.

You sense that he’s caught in between universes right now as well, painfully aware of what he would have given you that he can’t anymore.

He breathes your name like an apology, and foolishly you let a second go by in which you think he might offer you one. But he doesn’t. Not with his words, anyway. His eyes tell a different story.

“It’s fine,” you say unprompted on a whispered exhale, then a little louder as you push off the footboard, crossing the space until your hands are on his chest. You focus on his tie, not making eye contact as you rush to undo it. “It’s fine.”

He lets you do this for a few seconds before finally covering your trembling hands with his own. You still can’t meet his eyes.

“We don’t have to do—”

“No! No, please. I want to. I need—I need us to be okay.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, catching your chin and forcing you to look at him. “We are okay. Me and you are fine.”

It’s a pretty thought, but it’s not true. In fact, it’s a hideous and abject affront to the truth. Sure, maybe you’re fine in comparison to last week. Maybe anything feels fine compared to an eight by six cell. But it would be impossible for you and Spencer, for your relationship, whatever that relationship may be, to be fine. It’s especially impossible for him to make that claim, after all he did or rather didn’t do while he was gone. What you need is for him to stay anyway. What you need is to find a way to be with him, to exist with him, even when you are so clearly not fine.

“I just need you to stay,” you whisper, and he’s already nodding, wide-eyed like he’d do anything for you. You ignore all the bitter venom rising in your throat. You pretend this isn’t all happening after he cut you out of his life with a dirty switchblade. Instead you focus on his hands on yours, the familiar smell of him, which invites you to let go of each and every thought and worry. He must’ve showered before coming here, you realize. How long has he been out? What happened? 

“Okay. Okay, I can stay. What else can I do? How do I make it better?”

You sniffle and look back down.

“You can untie that for me.”

He hesitates, then nods some more, fingers working under yours to undo the tie around his neck.

“Okay.”

A moment goes by and after that final whispered word, the tension begins to build again. Spencer senses it in the way your fingertips linger on his chest and you step even closer, dragging them down to his belt. The metallic sound of it unbuckling, despite being your own doing, still manages to flip your stomach. How many times have you pictured this? When was the first time you realized you wanted it? You’re sure you haven’t stopped wanting it even once since then.

Spencer tosses the tie away and is shrugging off his jacket now, then before you see it coming he’s kissing you again, ducking down to do it. He feels taller this close up, and especially in your bedroom, where he just seems rather out of place. But you want him here. God, you want him here.

You break the kiss, forced to look down as you fumble with his belt.

“Sorry,” you gasp, embarrassed by your lack of dexterity. The light is barely sufficient to see what you’re doing, especially when he’s wearing black on black and your eyes are still bleary.

“You’re okay,” he assures you, and it’s so Spencer a fresh round of nerves electrifies the tips of your fingers. That thing is happening—the thing you’d hoped to avoid if you hadn’t lost momentum partway through, where you’re allowing your actual feelings for him to get in the way rather than getting swept up in the pathos of the moment and letting everything be easy and mindless. “Here, can I help you?”

But he doesn’t actually wait for an answer before he’s finishing off the belt for you, tugging it loose from his hips till it’s a leather coil in his hands. Your fingers brush the material and he lets you take it as if it were your prize. It’s heavier than you thought it’d be, and you just feel the weight of it in your hands for a moment, your dropped head brushing his chest.

You have a terrible feeling that if you do this now, it doesn’t mean everything will be alright. Because it can’t just go back to normal. Spencer has told you nothing of what must be an enormous trauma, and you haven’t spoken about it at all, but you sincerely doubt that after this he’s going to be ready to just jump into that committed relationship the two of you had been toying with for months before his absence. You’re almost... scared of him, now. Scared of where he’s been and what he’s endured—things you’re sure you couldn’t have taken. What that does to a person, you can’t imagine. He seems so solid and real in front of you now—but you know that’s not always enough. Maybe you’re just scared that somehow whatever he’s been through will have made him care for you less. That you were too far removed from the whole ordeal, and now you’ll never understand. If you could understand, maybe you could fix it for him. Maybe he’d stick around.

Still—even if you do end up pushing him further away in the long run—won't it have been worth it to have had him so completely, even just once?

You toss the belt to the ground, compressing all of these very complicated thoughts and feelings into a few seconds so short he can’t ask you any questions about them. Instead you find his top button, and just as you manage to undo it with relative ease he’s gently grabbing your wrists. You look up at him, immediately surrendering.

“If we’re going to do this I need you to relax a little bit.”

Gears grind in your chest. You feel need and anxiety comingling in every square inch of your body. It’s a sick buzz—a high on an empty stomach.

“I can’t,” you admit.

“Yeah, you can,” Spencer gently disagrees, slowly lowering your hands. When he’s sure you’re not going to try ripping his clothes off again, he releases, and his eyes lower to the zipper of your hoodie. His fingers follow, warm against the soft triangle of revealed skin at your chest as he grips the small piece of metal between barely shaking fingers. “You can.”

You match his eyeline, breathing shallowly and watching as he slowly drags the zipper down. You wonder if that sound has haunted his fantasies the way the sound of his belt has haunted yours. If he’s seen this hoodie on you and wondered what’s underneath, staring at you and daydreaming during movie night with you none the wiser.

Both of you have your eyes glued to the span of skin as the zipper parts. Spencer stalls with the zipper at your sternum, just below the band of your bra.

Right. No shirt.

You look up and find his eyes already on you, tinged with a curious kind of humor.

“I wasn’t expecting guests.”

The words come out shy. Spencer’s chuckle has its own nervous airy quality as he resumes tugging on your zipper, leaning down until your noses bump.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Then he kisses you again, a little sweeter now. Sweet enough to give you butterflies and for them to flutter right out of your stomach and spill from your lips in a little whimper against his.

It comes as a surprise when he pushes the fabric from your shoulders without looking or asking. Not that you’d have said no—you're just underprepared for how assertive he is in this foreign context.

Left just in your flimsy shorts and your thin bra, you feel quite exposed—but Spencer’s hands are as demanding and hungry as his mouth. They skim up your sensitive sides and sweep lower, suggesting less proper placement over your ass and pulling at your bottoms until you gently put a stop to their wandering.

“Wait. We’re... we’re uneven.”

It’s a struggle to get any words out at all when he keeps chasing your lips, nipping at you like he physically can’t stand not kissing you, but they catch his attention and he laughs airily, pulling back to let his gaze pour over your less clothed form. It lingers and catches and lights you up everywhere it touches, drops of heat soaking into your skin and making you feel all fuzzy and needy.

“We are,” he acknowledges, tone low and colored with the faintest smile. “You’re a lot prettier without your clothes on than I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The challenge comes immediately and thoughtlessly. Spencer’s golden eyes flash up to yours. He’s breathing a little harder than usual.

“You want me to show you what I mean?”

If that means getting him naked, then yes, absolutely.

You nod, but rather than immediately stripping, he takes your hand and holds his own open next to it. A thick pink scar bisects some pretty significant palmistry lines, but you don’t mention that. Instead you swallow—your thoughts, your words, your nausea.

“That’s new.”

You wonder how you hadn’t noticed it earlier.

He nods.

“A lot is new.”

It sounds almost like he’s challenging you—there's a kind of tremulous force in his voice, despite the perpetual softness there, like he’s inviting you to say it’s ugly. And you realize he’s referring to more than just the glowing scar cutting an asteroid trail against the flesh of him palm. The scars he obtained in prison must form a constellation over his body.

“I don’t care. I wanna see you.”

Spencer swallows, cupping your face with the scarred hand once more. You can’t feel it against your cheek but you know it hasn’t gone away.

“I’m sure you think you do,” he permits, and that’s where the conversation ends for the moment—with his hand on your face and his lips back on yours. “For now why don’t you let me worry about you?”

Obediently, you breathe, “okay.”

This is, for whatever reason, amusing to him. The brief levity dies as quick as it comes like a snuffed-out brush fire as soon as he lets his hands fall back down to your hips.

“I want... I want to give you slow. But...”

But slow is for people who didn’t lose three months of their life. Slow is for people who don’t know what it’s like to be starving. Slow is not for the desperate.

You understand the feeling.

“I don’t need slow.”

You’ll let him use you up like quick-burning fuel if that’s what he needs. You’ll go as fast and as bright and as hot as he tells you.

“But you want slow,” he murmurs, a secret acknowledged into your own waiting mouth. You’d keep it there forever. You could be the object he hides his soul in. “I know you do. You deserve to get what you want.”

“I can go fast. I want whatever you can give me.”

Spencer’s shuddering exhale is like a drug, dizzying as you inhale it and your eyes flutter at the high, pressed head-to-head with him. For so long you’ve needed him so badly. It’s overwhelming to have him now, all over you. If only your walls could breathe him in the way you are, if this room could remember what it feels like to hold him the way you will, if any inanimate object could bear witness to how you’ll give yourself, any part of yourself, over to him, so willingly.

“I’m going to try.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse as he walks backward to the bed, taking you by the hips as he goes. “I want to do it right. I want to do this the way I... the way I imagined it, before...”

Now he’s sitting, and you’re standing between his legs as he finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, his fingers a comforting pressure where they ghost down the slope of your back. Your heart is pounding at the confession, at the way his tongue darts over his bottom lip and his fingertips journey back up to your straps, looking up at you with haloed irises as if he’d find anything other than the most dangerous kind of smoldering devotion in your eyes—the kind cult-leaders seek and spend years nurturing, and he’d earned with a mere brush over your bare skin.

The fabric slides down your arms, and as it falls to the floor, you watch something like despair flash-flood his eyes. It is a deep, distinctly human grief. The ineffable kind where something is almost too beautiful; so perfect it offends the mortal senses because it should be permanent, but nothing is, and the clash of divine beauty with unstoppable time which oxidizes copper and covers marble with vine is almost as grotesque as metal rending delicate flesh. It is the grief that drove the first poet to write and the first parents to press their baby’s painted hands to the walls of a cave. It is the desire to do the impossible—to capture ephemeral perfection and make it eternal, and the knowledge that it is hopeless. You recognize it because you’ve felt it for him.

“I thought about you all the time,” he whispers, doesn’t bother calling you beautiful but you don’t mind because he’s telling you with his hands and his eyes and the waver of his voice. “When I was gone, I thought about you—”

You’re just as quiet, just as soft.

“Don’t, Spencer.”

He doesn’t get to tell you about when he was gone. Not now. Not after he acted like you didn’t exist.

“Okay.” He swallows the things he’d wanted to tell you like you choked on the things you needed to tell him for three months. “I’m sorry.”

But his hands—his hands are perfect over your waist and his lips are perfect where they kiss your ribs like they’re his homeland. You could forgive a thousand wrongs for each kiss he puts to your skin. Light from the full moon stretches over the room like a blessing from the cosmos, and you have every intention of making the most of that gift, how the silver gilds the planes of his face and highlights curls like they were carved, and invites you to search for something in each shadow.

Some of his kisses land over the sensitive skin of your breasts though you doubt he has much intention or that there is any sort of end-goal with the trail he blazes—in fact, you have to root your hand in his hair and pull gently back when he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s making you wait again. His eyes are glassy and cheeks slightly pinkened—you weren’t expecting this wave of fondness to knock you on your ass but here you are, falling all over again.

“You don’t have to go that slow.”

A slow smile splits the heart of his mouth at your bashful tone and he’s emboldened to bring his hands higher for a moment, thumbs brushing particularly delicate though not downright indecent spots. Nonetheless, your breath catches.

“Impatient girl,” he scolds, and though it’s lighthearted it still inspires heat to dance across your face. Oh, I think I’ve been plenty patient, you itch to say, but you bite it back because it’s only sad and true and unkind.

Still, he gives you the beginning of what you want, really only the tip of the enormous iceberg that is your desire for him, by slipping his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down. His hands slide up the fronts of your thighs, tracing the trim of your underwear, and you’d swear he’s not even breathing. The moment one of his hand loops behind your knee and pulls forward until it’s pressed to the mattress and you’re half-kneeling, half standing, desire begins to truly cloud your mind. Manhandling never seemed like Spencer’s style, but when paired with how softly he reveals your hip, pulling gently down on the fabric of your underwear just to admire you up close, you don’t mind it.

More kisses are littered over your stomach, and he takes you by surprise a second time with a quick maneuver landing you on your back and him on top of you.

“I wasn’t doing you justice with my imagination,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I couldn’t have known.”

“Couldn’t have known what?” you pant as he shamelessly digs his fingers into the plush of your ass. You almost hope it bruises.

“How pretty you would be,” he coos like he means it, and you dissolve, slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “You were holding out on me.”

It’s a tease, not at all serious, but you manage to hit him with a, “Was not, asshole,” and he chuckles, placating your little hurt with another sticky kiss, and you get another disorienting glimpse of some other timeline where you’re both a little less damaged. Where it’s a little easier.

But in this timeline, his touch becomes starving and ragged and urgent, and you accept the drag of his thumb up your thigh and between your legs, gasping when he runs his knuckles up the center of you. This touch is metal on screeching metal. It does not pretend to be anything more than what it is—brute, powerful, executed to elicit sensation. You get the sense that Spencer’s never touched anyone this honestly, and while you do envy the girls who got to have him gentler, you’ll take this as the compliment that it is. A kind of vulnerability that is nearing primal.

His lips, though—always his lips—are kind when they brush and land on your skin guided by some invisible map. A dip down your neck and chest and then a plunge, his tongue dragging over your hips, chasing the fabric of your underwear as he almost pulls it off and then reroutes, making room for himself between your legs and pushing lace aside to mark the hinge of your inner and upper-most thigh. Your chest heaves and you don’t dare move for fear he’ll stop leaving signs of himself on your body and you won’t be able to reassure yourself that it was real and he was here and it was not another dream.

Because something in you knows, if only consciously recognizing it for the first time now, that he will disappear again. That this may be your only chance.

The desire to make the ephemeral eternal. An impossibility.

He’s clearly losing himself to something, eyes shutting blissfully. You wonder when the last time he let his guard down even a  little was. You’re okay with being the thing he gets lost in, even if you’re not exactly okay with him—something you are becoming more acutely aware of as each touch makes a part of you want to cry. Maybe you still have some things in common. A strange pain that doesn’t quite feel like it belongs to you, for one thing.

You slam back into your body as his nose nudges against you through fabric, and his lips catch on cotton as he drags himself up, eventually settling a kiss against the little bow at the waist of your underwear. There he stays, eyes closed, mouth pressed to you.

“Is this okay?”

You swallow, buzzing. Is this really what he wants? After everything?

“You don’t have to...”

“But is it okay with you?”

Nothing more than an airy whisper, you reply, “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

Being emotional at this point seems wrong, but it’s difficult to ignore the fact that you have thought about this before and it’s finally happening but it’s not exactly as you’d imagined it. There is an indelible sadness to it, to the way he’s so hungry for you because he’s been deprived, to the desperation with which he touches you because he’s had everything taken from him.

For a moment, before he tugs your underwear down, he pauses, and you wonder if he’s freezing one moment in time, this moment, and grieving all the other ways it could’ve been, and accepting that this is the way it is going to be. You are.

These higher realms of thought abandon you as he finally pulls the last barrier down your legs and encourages you to spread them further. You don’t have time or energy to be embarrassed, not even by his staring, or the way his eyes dart up to yours and back down again, wide and shining, as if to say, have you seen yourself? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

All you feel is the lack of him on you, the pull to have him closer so strong it’s almost sickening because he could be gone at any second. Maybe he understands that because he doesn’t waste anymore time before he’s kissing the most sensitive part of you. The drag of his tongue has you loosing a shuddering cry.

His mouth wanders, making connections you wouldn’t have realized the value of until you feel them on your skin. Your hips buck as he traces you and you’re unable to stop yourself from tangling your hands in his hair. Speech fails you—hell, you can hardly breathe as you watch his with a furrowed brow and parted lips, only expelling air from your lungs in the form of little cries and gasps and failing to hold your hips down to the bed.

The tip of his tongue teases around your entrance and he catches your leg as your foot rises off the bed, slinging it over his shoulder and consuming you more fervently until you have no choice but to moan though you’ve never been one for theatrics. Nobody has done this for you like he’s doing it for you. Locks of hair fall in front of his face and you hold them back for him, shuddering as he shifts his weight and presses the tip of his finger to your cunt.

“Ah—please,” you manage, your first words since he started. Spencer groans against you and the sound is so wonderfully unexpected, so much better than in your dreams. You cant your hips up in further invitation, chirping as he takes it, pushing two fingers into you at once. Your eyes screw shut and you bite back a whine at the slight stretch, unconsciously writhing your hips either to get further away or take him deeper, you’re not sure.

Spencer pulls back, kissing your hips and thighs and pumping his fingers very slowly as you adjust.

“’M sorry,” you pant, “it’s been awhile, I...”

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says like it’s simple, his own breath coming quicker. “How’re you feeling? Need me to stop?”

“No! No, it feels really good, I feel good.”

He holds your burning gaze, matching it with his own, and his hair is tousled and his cheeks are flushed as he continues to move his hand.

“Yeah?”

“...Yeah.”

This little show of obedience, of call and response, has him smiling before he occupies his mouth with something else once more. It’s a different smile than you’re used to from him, but you decide you don’t at all mind it.

Like that, with his tongue and fingers working tirelessly, your orgasm comes on quickly. The feeling is rare but not entirely foreign, and in that brief moment of utter disconnect between your brain and reality, of sheer white-hot pleasure, you don’t feel you’re missing out on anything at all. How could you be, when you are here and Spencer is here and for a moment all your neurons are lighting up and flashing neon? How could there be anything more to life than the searing feeling of him slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, than your hips between his hands like he’s cradling the world, and his lips, indiscriminate with where they kiss because every part of you is worthy of attention?

You’re reeling, and your legs are gelatinous as he so affectionately sucks the darkest mark yet onto your inner thigh like a parting gift, like he’s signing his trembling work. If you could clamp your legs shut around the almost painful aftershocks you would, but he’s climbing back up your body, so all you can do is wriggle against him and release delayed, stunted little moans. He stops to kiss your neck before he makes it to your mouth and drinks down all your sounds until you’re gentle and pliant for him like you haven’t been yet.

His voice is soft and sympathetic when he speaks. “Better?”

Wordlessly you nod, both comforted and unsettled by how well he knows you. What, exactly, has been made better, you’re not sure. Not trust. You don’t trust him anymore. Something cheaper, but temporarily effective. A sense of permanence, maybe, however fleeting it may be. You’ve completed something with him now, and he’s still here, still sweet.

He looks into your eyes, then, for a moment—and there is just enough light in the room for you to tell yourself that the shadows dancing there as he looks at you are love.

They morph as you watch into haunting, wild hunger. Pained even now.

He sits up abruptly and so do you, scooting back against your headboard and pulling your knees to your chest to protect your pounding heart as Spencer takes you in with darting eyes and quick breaths. His fingers find the collar of his shirt and he begins to unbutton.

“I need you to remember it’s all going to heal.”

He swallows, and you hardly have the wherewithal to study the way he unbuttons his shirt, a way he exists in the world that you had previously not been privy to. The words are too distracting.

“What?”

Sometimes he reminds you of a deer, with those big brown eyes that can’t help betraying anxiety. Moreso in those old pictures he’d shown you from his early days at the BAU—but it shines through occasionally even now. It’s reassuring to know that something inside of his has remained soft.

“Just...” his fingers don’t stop at their task, and you come to the disturbing realization that his knuckles are bruised. “Please don’t freak out, alright?”

Your mouth goes dry, eyes glued to the lengthening span of revealed skin.

And before he even has his shirt fully undone, something isn’t right.

He’s like a Pollack of bruises—starbursts and watercolor blots of discoloration blooming over his side and stomach.

You’re glad the light is off for two reasons: one, being that you don’t think you could handle the bruising in all its glory, and two, you hope the look of horror painted on your face is at least partially obscured from Spencer.

But you can’t. You simply don’t have the gas in the tank to freak out, as he’d said—at least not externally. Those bruises shouldn’t be there, but 96 days is a long time to be gone.

You drag your eyes back to his—nervous, deeply insecure and mistrustful. A deer. Just like those pictures of a 24 year old Spencer in an FBI jacket that was too big for him.

It’s enough to have you scooting on your knees across the mattress to him. Those big eyes stay glued to you as you draw near, falling as you carefully push open his shirt, cautious not to bump any tender spots as it falls to the bed. A flash of white gauze wrapped around his forearm that makes your stomach flip. How? You want to ask. Why?

He doesn’t seem to know what you’re going to do, and neither do you, until you’re grabbing his hands, bruised knuckles and all, and just... holding them for a minute.

“I lost weight,” he says quietly, as if that’s the most shocking thing about his current appearance, though it is noticeable.

“You’re still pretty.”

He smiles at this—a true Spencer Reid smile. Flattened lips, eyes tinged silver with sadness, voice quiet and anxious and wavering.

“I didn’t have a lot to spare.”

A moment goes by.

“I’m not going to ask you about them,” you promise, though you care so much and you want to know but you already understand that he won’t want to tell you.

Another moment. It doesn't surprise you to watch the shiny vulnerability in his eyes to freeze over completely. But he squeezes your hands once in thanks, and you know it’s still the same Spencer.

“Lie down.”

Oh. Right.

This.

You do as he says, taking a deep breath to try and exhale the concern twisting your stomach like a poison. Somehow your room feels so unfamiliar, so new with him in it. Even the whorls on your ceiling look different as you study them, trying to time the pattern of your breathing with the pattern of the paint and plaster and not let the sound of Spencer further undressing quicken your heartrate too much.

Soon he’s coaxing your legs apart again, reverently, and kneeling between them, studying every part of you—lingering not on the parts you’d expect. He traces the scar on your knee with his thumb, follows a line down your thigh to the freckle on your hip. The scrutiny is unnerving and warms you everywhere. Perhaps he senses the microscopic clench of your thighs as you imagine pushing them together, if he weren’t in the way.

“You alright?” He asks, still stroking your hip. Tender again. It’s so hard to keep up.

“I...”

Suddenly your heart beat is a deafening echo in your own ears. The tide of your breathing is too powerful, too in and out and whooshing, leaving you always too empty or too full but never comfortable.

Maybe he’s changed, and he’s harder to know now, but he is the same Spencer. He is the Spencer you’d fallen in love with. The hard part is knowing that now you may never get a chance to tell him that. You don’t know if he’d be able to hear it.

There are things you can’t have with him anymore. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever. But you can have this. It will be different, but you’d rather him be different and here than the same and only in your memory.

You swallow.

“I’m good.”

Tangling your hand in his hair once more, you pull him down into a kiss. It’s hesitant, at first—maybe he can taste your thoughts, where they’d been balancing just on the tip of your tongue. But the uncertainty fades and he kisses you deeper, harder, in a way that is hard to keep up with. You like the messy overwhelm of his lips, teeth, tongue. That’s the only way he knows how to want you.

When you go to wrap your leg around his waist he catches it, running his hands over the soft plush of your thigh. The hard line of him presses against you like memory foam and you gasp and he breathes it in deeply as your brain short-circuits, as you realize this is really going to happen, that you’re going to have him like you’ve never had him before and in ways you’ve only imagined and immediately felt ashamed for.

“Spencer,” you whisper. He ducks to leave open-mouthed kisses along your neck and your eyes flutter shut, craning your neck but not losing sight of your objective as you reach down blindly. When you find what you’re looking for he freezes, groans against your neck at the same time as you breathe the tiniest whimper. Just in your hand he feels impossible, hot and imposing and hard. Your heart palpitates.

Without thinking, you angle your hips up and encourage him closer, until the tip of him is smearing through your folds, and you both go utterly silent like the breath had been stolen right from your lungs. The moment crystallizes, time around you hardening like preserved amber to keep you frozen there forever.

And then he rolls his hips, catching the underside of his cock on the crux of you, and then he does it again, and you choke out a moan and so does he, and it’s beyond perfect—it's nirvana, more than you could ever have conceived of, with his weight pressing you into the mattress, arms caging you in, his heavy breaths hot against your neck and vice versa as you twine together like serpents on a rod, your foot floating in the air as you widen your legs to make more room for him.

And you’re not even fucking yet.

“Oh my god,” you whine, just for him, barely audible under the heavy cloak of night, the thickened air in your bedroom and the sound of panting and fabric shifting. It’s like your heart is trying to reach through your chest to his own where they’re pressed together—that is how hard it’s beating.

Spencer only breathes a long, low curse and shifts so he can grasp himself. Your fingers drift down the shaft of him as he slots himself at your entrance, notching half an inch in and you hold your breath, and you brace yourself—and then he’s kissing you again, but gentler this time. Reassuring. You soften, you can’t not, releasing all your air in a soft gust through your nose, and then he’s pushing in.

Your lips part at the stretch as it fuzzes your mind, but he stays right there, nose pressed to your nose, lips ghosting over your own. He’s not going anywhere, you think, and you’re glad for it, when it burns ever so slightly, and the tiniest whine escapes your open mouth.

“Shh,” he soothes immediately, low and soft, only fractionally louder than you had been. “You’re okay.”

Spencer. Your Spencer.

For a moment, you’re living in that alternate universe. The kinder one. The flash of pain you feel then has nothing to do with the way he’s opening you up.

This is the closest you have ever been, and in some strange way, the furthest apart.

Together, fingers brushing, you guide him until he settles at not quite your deepest point. You can feel that he’s not giving you everything yet, but you’re okay with that, as you adjust to the full feeling. Spencer again senses your desire to close your legs against the deep intrusion, and gives you the best he can by encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

“Good girl,” he whispers tenderly, nudging at your jaw with his nose and dragging kisses along the ridge of it. Your stomach flips at the moniker and your brain turns to warm sludge as your eyes flutter shut. It makes you feel all light-headed and you flutter around him. Spencer chuckles into the junction of your neck and shoulder and the vibrations send a chill down your arching spine. “I thought you might like that one.”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm. How are you? You okay?”

“’M ready.”

“You’re ready?” His tone is dripping sarcasm and faux-disbelief as he pulls back the slightest bit only to push right back in deeper, this time. Your toes curl, one thigh sliding higher up his waist as you cling to him.

“Fuck,” you manage, a pitiful, high pitched curse tossed to the wind. He echoes the sentiment.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, continuing with that slow pace, “you feel so good, angel.”

You grapple at his back, searching for purchase as your brow knits. “Faster.”

This inspires another breathy chuckle, but he obliges, and you cry out softly. It’s almost unreal, your head buried against his neck, drunk on his scent and the drag of him like a shock felt in the far reaches of your body, again and again.

There’s nothing you can say that will accurately demonstrate what you’re feeling, so you elect not to speak, to remain silent and try to get a grip on this cacophony of sensation and emotion. But it’s too much to be alone with. You feel you have to get it out, to seek understanding. You can’t do it alone.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know...” the sentence trails off into a gentle keen. He moves to kiss you, speaking against your lips.

“You don’t know?”

Shyly you shake your head. Spencer sighs wistfully.

“Do you know how much I missed you?”

It’s like he can sense your need for comfort. For something grounding.

And while this topic was off-limits earlier—you're softer now. The stone walls that form your boundaries have been chipped away and lowered.

Spencer continues unprompted.

“I thought about you every day. Every night while I was falling asleep. You were always on my mind, angel girl.”

You whine. Whether it’s pleasure or distress is anyone’s guess—including your own.

“You were gone so long,” you whisper, eyes shut.

At this, Spencer slows again, and the tension that was building settles back to a simmer.

“I know. I wish I could—I wish I could change that. But I’m here, okay? I’m right here with you.”

Then he makes sure you feel every last inch, and it takes your breath away. If your thoughts were any more coherent, they’d be something along the lines of: but for how long? How long until you leave again?

“You’re here.”

You say it like a mantra, once out loud, and then again and again in your head, timed with every clash of your hips. With each repetition he becomes more real. Every little ache, every tingling, head-emptying brush against that most sensitive spot inside proves to you that he could not be any closer. This can’t be faked. It can’t be another dream to wake up in tears from.

“You’re here,” you gasp as it hits you, as it truly sinks in.

“I’m here,” he breathes.

There’s so much you want to say—three months of words you need him to hear, of things you need to talk to him about, things you need to yell at him for and things you can only say crying in his arms and things you can only say laughing or whispering or drunk or half-asleep—and in this moment you can’t manage any of it. Every word condenses into one drop of salt water, drifting away from your eye and down your cheek. Spencer doesn’t tell you to stop crying. He only kisses the tear away, and murmurs I’m here I’m here I’m here over and over again against your skin until he’s not even speaking it out loud anymore. But you feel it. With every brush of his lips, every breath, every movement, you feel it.

Soon he’s adjusting his angle, gradually picking up the pace but retaining that unforgiving depth, and your nails bite into the skin of his back as your jaw drops. Spencer hisses, pressing impossibly closer.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak.

“Do it again.”

“Wh—what?”

“Please,” he begs, low and hot against your jaw, just beneath your ear. “Do it again, honey.”

Honey.

You’d do anything for him if it meant he calls you that again.

When he shifts his weight to one arm and reaches down between your bodies to play with your aching clit in exactly the right way, you don’t really have a choice. You arch and moan wantonly enough to feel embarrassed as your nails scratch down his back. At the same time he’s making noises of his own, and you almost feel guilty for marking him up like this only you think he likes it. The most perfect and troubling tension is building in your core, so taut you almost fear the inevitable rebound when it snaps. But you’re driven to be exactly what Spencer needs right now, and to let him try and be what you need. Even if it scares you. Even if you’re not sure how.

Spencer groans, head tucked to the bend of your shoulder. “I’m not gonna last.”

Any response you might’ve been about to muster is annihilated by a sudden, deep bolt of pleasure.

“’M gonna cum,” you mewl like it’s a secret.

“Are you?” he asks, coming up breathless. If your eyes were open, you’re sure you’d see him above you.

“Mhm.”

“Look at me. Look at me.”

It is unmistakably a command—one you fight to follow.

You cry out as you meet the intensity of his gaze, those shadowy corridors suddenly ablaze and alive. They are not unending, like you’d thought. They are a door thrown open to let the light in, or maybe to let the fire out. They’re open in this moment for you.

No more words are spoken after that—you cum hard, gasping as you fall and spin. Spencer follows very shortly after, like he was holding it together just for you, and your eyes are still locked though everything is a bit bleary.

“Fuck,” you whine as he continues to fuck you for as long as he can, despite your writhing hips, but you’re entranced by him, unable to look away now that you’re hooked. Until he slows to a halt, glances down at your mouth, and you just have time to pray that he’ll kiss you before he does. You whimper against his lips—a plea for understanding. A plea for him to stay, even though this is over. He kisses back so soft and sweet it’s like he can read your mind. Echoes of I’m here I’m here I’m here still buzz across your skin. His eyelashes tickle your cheek. Your heart stops beating quite so quickly, melting and warm like the rest of your body.

Soon the kissing ceases and you’re just breathing together, trapped and faced with the knowledge that it must end just the same as you had waited for it to start.

Eventually the air between you becomes mostly carbon dioxide and you let your head fall to the side, dizzy and giggling breathlessly as you nearly avoid asphyxiation. Spencer laughs too, letting his head fall to your shoulder once more, and you finally let your eyes flutter closed. To do something as simple as laugh with him again is its own small euphoria. It’s unexpected, and a soft landing once all that tension breaks underneath your combined weight.

It can’t last forever, you know that well. But the slow fade of it makes the next parts a little easier.

Spencer presses a kiss to your neck. “Is your bathroom through that door?”

You hum a confirmation and are only slightly disheartened when he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re further disturbed when you see there’s gauze around his thigh, matching what’s around his arm, and you wonder how you missed that. Spencer scoops up his clothing and disappears into the adjoining restroom, assuring you he’ll be right back and leaving you alone with your thoughts and the whorls on the ceiling which have seemingly shifted into entirely new constellations.

He leaves the door cracked which is oddly reassuring—the sliver of warm light and the sound of the sink running. Only a few moments pass before he’s returning clad in boxers once more to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing away the sheet you’d just pulled over your chest and pulling one of your legs over his lap. Your face warms as he brings a washcloth between your thighs. As soon as he glances up at you and catches your eye you’re looking back to the ceiling.

“I should’ve asked first,” he says quietly as he cleans up the mess he’d made of you.

You speak just as softly, like you’re both afraid of disturbing some peace, of waking some sleeping giant. “It’s okay. I would’ve told you if I didn’t want it.”

His reticence, his unreadable face, make you nervous.

When he’s done, he rises to toss the dirtied cloth in the laundry bin, and with his back to you (as scratched up as it might be) you feel braver.

“Are you gonna, like... hate me now?”

It was a mistake. That’s clear by the way he turns around, brow knit deeply and grimacing slightly like even the suggestion offends him.

“Am I going to hate you?”

Again you pull the sheet up, and again you look away, studying the pattern of moonlight stretching out over the floor and scooting to make room for him when he steps in it.

“Not hate, I just...” the bed dips beside you and you are indescribably glad he’s not immediately running out the door. “I’m not dumb. I know what this was.”

He pulls you into him and you settle against his chest. It feels good. “I never thought you were dumb.”

This is your first real conversation since he’s gotten back, you realize. And how quickly you’re falling into familiar patterns, familiar syntactical beats. You know when to speak. You know when to bite your tongue and keep him talking.

The silence goes on longer than you’re used to. Maybe he got good at not speaking while he was away.

Eventually your eyes wander, falling to the white strip over his thigh where it is parallel to yours on the bed, only over the sheets.

“What happened?”

You said you wouldn’t ask, but that was then, and you’re upset again. You almost want to hurt him. To piss him off. You don’t know.

But it doesn’t work.

“Do you really want to know?” There’s a note of something heavy in his voice, and you look up at him. It’s a privilege to have him this close—his beauty is a constant surprise that you’d become unaccustomed to over the months. You say nothing, and he takes that as the yes that it is. “I... I did it to myself.”

He may as well have reached down your throat and grabbed for fucking heart for all its clenching. Tears well almost immediately, though they’ve been waiting in the wings all night.

“What? Did you—were you trying to—”

His eyes widen.

“No! No, honey, no.” You wilt as he gathers you closer, a deeply confused frown still contorting your features, too heartbroken even to cling to him, or to appreciate the ease with which honey slips past his lips again. “No. I was—it's complicated. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, but I had to—I had to do it before someone else did something worse.”

The bruises covering his abdomen.

You sniffle and pull back enough to look up at him tearfully. “Why would they want to hurt you?”

Mist fills his eyes even as he’s looking down at you, a layer of separation, as if he’s two places at once. Even as he goes to brush your hair behind your ear, to stroke your cheek.

“I’m... not... the same, as I was.” It’s not an answer to your question—but it’s the beginning of the answer to a question you’d been too afraid to put into words.

“Don’t say that,” you beg, because you know where this is going. He keeps smoothing your hair like it’ll make this easier.

“But it’s true,” Spencer says gently, the slightest waver betraying his own emotion.

“You’re just going to leave again.”

And you’re losing to the tears.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will,” you insist, like a child crying to a parent come to comfort them after a bad dream.

“Not right now. Right now I’m here.”

I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.

For now, maybe that has to be enough. 

You cry on his shoulder. He kisses your head and doesn’t tell you to stop. 

Eventually, you sniff and wipe your eyes. 

“We were so close. Before you… we were almost there.”

You’re sure of it. You’re sure that if he hadn’t gone when he did you would’ve been a real couple. You would’ve told him you loved him. 

“We’ll get there again,” he promises, rubbing your arm. “I just… I need a little bit of time. I think you do too. But we’re going to get there again.”

Maybe it will never be like it was. 

But as so often is the case—Spencer is right. Difference doesn’t mean it won’t ever be good again. 

You have to believe that, just as you had to believe you’d see him again. 

You look to The Odyssey on your bedside table. 

The sun has been obliterated from the sky, and an unlucky darkness invades the world. 

But the sun has a habit of rising, time and time again, after the longest nights, after the darkest storms. 

You feel the beginnings of its rise, see the golden tips of it lighting the room as he holds you. Even now. 

[slutofpsh]

strip for me.

part eight | psh.

pairings: hyungline x reader

synopsis: hyungline got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8.8k

warnings: smut, minors dni, sunghoon being mean, degrading, raw sex (please use protection), dirty talks, curses, masturbation, slapping, choking. slightly rough sex. this is not proof read. (read at your own risk)

note: LAST PART OF STRIP FOR ME. it took a while. i was taking a break to give time for myself and to refresh my writing skills. i hope you guys are doing well and waited for this part. i’m sorry if i kept you waiting. anyway, first post in 2025! send me asks. reblog and reply (nice) comments. let me know what you feel about this one.

slutofpsh 2025 © all rights reserved.

“I still can’t believe that Sunghoon gets to have her for the whole day.” Jake sounded pissed as he placed yet another golf ball at its position. He stood back up then glanced at his two best pals.

Heeseung is sat down while waiting for his turn. Jay’s eyes watches him get into position.

“Can’t you just shut your mouth and take your shot quietly?” Jay scoffed right at him. It was obvious that he’s so done hearing all these repetitive rants from his friend.

Jake raises his hand to flick him off before taking his shot. He poured all of his emotions into it causing the poor ball to fly so far.

A few golfing assistant claps at his wonderful performance, but it seems like Jake’s still annoyed about something.

Heeseung pats his shoulder before placing a brand new ball for his turn.

“Give it up, dude. You know its the least we can do for him.” he mumbled. His adams apple bobs as he tried so hard to mask the small jealousy that igniting insideffy. He’s better than this.

“Its unfair.” Jake continued complaining.

Jay sighed heavily, “Then if Sunghoon suggests we fuck off since he likes her first, what will you do?” he raised his eyebrow at his friend.

Jake pursed his lips, jaw clenches hard.

“Now you stopped talking, huh?” Jay scoffed before walking to replace Heeseung to his place since its his turn now.

Heeseung lets out a strained sigh and claps his friend’s shoulder. Jake remains silent.

“I know it may sound unfair, but Sunghoon’s kind enough to share her with us. After all, he’s the first one to like her. Don’t forget that.” and with that, Heeseung walks closer to his golf cart. An assistant rushes her way near him to help him.

On the other hand, Sunghoon pries his eyes open and waits patiently for you to come out from your house. He’s been here for more than thirty minutes and you just informed him that you’ll be down soon.

He’s resting over his big bike, hands inside his pockets. The weather is so nice today and he’s excited to spend the whole day with you. But a part of him is worried. He stayed late last night to calm himself down and not lose his shit for today.

“Hoonie!” his lips instantly stretched into a smile when he saw you walk outside your house.

Wearing some shorts and a t-shirt. The smile on your face is so bright that sent instant relief towards Sunghoon. He’s excited for the day, but also very worried of what’s the outcome gonna be.

“Hey, beautiful.” he softly mumbles and pulls you into a tight embrace once you’re close enough.

He kisses your forehead gently then rests his on yours, staring right into your eyes. It tugs something in your heart, making your chest ache in a good way.

“You’re early!” you chimed.

“Yes, I am. I don’t want you waiting.” he smirks.

“Where are we going today?”

He pulls away while still holding your hand, thumb pressing to your palm. It was warm and it felt so good.

“You’ll see.” and he raises his free hand to hang some of the hairstands to your ear.

His eyes racks down on your outfit and his lips pursed into a faint pout. It made you look down on your clothes in wonder of what seems to be wrong about it.

“You need jacket. We’ll be riding my bike so the wind will be crazy.” he stated that answered your confusion.

Even before you can offer to go back inside and get one, he took off his leather jacket revealing his white sando inside. You went silent, admiring his broad shoulder and toned muscle in front of you.

He smirks while helping you wear it. He made sure you’re all warm up.

“Warm enough?”

You nodded cutely and Sunghoon chuckles sexily while trying to sink in the image of you wearing his jacket. It was obvious that it wasn’t yours. The jacket is so big that your hands disappears from the inside of the long sleeves.

“You need a helmet too.” and he walks towards the bike to get the helmet he bought just for you. It was cute and the color is your favorite.

You jumped cutely and it made Sunghoon’s heart thump, grinning widely. You’re attempting to hold the helmet so you can check it closer, but Sunghoon kept one of his hand holding it just to make sure you won’t accidentally let of it.

“Sunghoon? Is that you?” both of your heads swings over to the left and instantly stood straight when he saw your Mother walking out of the house.

“Mrs. (surname)” he greets and bows his head.

Your Mom smiled warmly as she walks towards the two of you. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen you together like this. But she surely remember it vividly how both of you are so young back then, and now you both grew up.

She can’t help but to feel a little emotional by the thought that despite all the things that happened, you two still managed to find way back to each other.

When she’s close enough, she stretches her hand to caress Sunghoon’s face gently. The boy grew up very handsome just how she expected.

It isn’t the first time he had seen him. He remembers him from the other day, with the other boys. She was hesitating at first to go and ask if he’s indeed the same boy you’re friends with. But now that she heard you perfectly calling him by his name, she’s sure of it.

While all of it was happening, you couldn’t help but to look back at your Mom and Sunghoon. A big question plays inside your head.

“Do you know him, Mom?” you asked.

They both look at your way then look at each other. Silently, they both agreed that it isn’t a good idea to bring up the past. Despite a lot of good memories you built with Sunghoon, the pain from that trauma will also give a big impact on you.

“A-Ah, yes darling. His Mom and I are good friends back then.” she smiles at you.

Your eyes grew, “Really?! How come you didn’t meet up?”

Sunghoon walks closer to you with a smile, “Because we didn’t know that you guys moved in this town.”

You nodded, trying to piece up everything together. Sunghoon rest his big hands at your back and caress it gently to send comfort. It didn’t slip off from your Mom’s eyes and instantly, she felt comfort. Like she’s now sure that you’ll be all right.

“Anyway, I should leave you guys since I have a meeting in five minutes.” she changed the topic then walked towards you to cup your face.

“Have fun, okay?”

You smiled and nodded. Her eyed diverted towards Sunghoon. “Take care of her, Sunghoon.”

He nods, “I will.” and your Mom was well assured by those two words.

Once she’s back inside you looked at Sunghoon with keen eyes. “Why didn’t you mention that our Moms are friends?”

He took a step closer then helped you wear your helmet. He smiled, “I was finding the right timing.”

You pout, but decided to let it pass since its been kind of messy before.

He rides his bike effortlessly and helped you hop on behind him. It was the first time you ever ride something like this and its fascinating but also a bit frightening for you. When its just Sunghoon, he made it look easy riding it. Its not.

He chuckles, noticing how tense you are behind him. He grabbed both of your hand and make it wrap around his body, making your chest press over his broad back and feeling his abs beneath his sando.

“Just hold on to me tight, love.” he mumbles and even craned his neck slightly to check on you.

You nodded and he smiled before wearing his own helmet. Your cheeks flushed after feeling his muscles flexing with his every movement. After making sure he’s all set as well, he grabbed your thighs and squeezed it like as if a signal that he’s start driving already.

When he opens the engine, a familiar roaring sound emerges. Even with the helmet, you can still hear it. He started droving off and the wind blew hard towards you. Once he reved hardly causing the bike to speed up, you almost let out a squeal.

It was so much fun, but also nervewracking. The thrill feeling it gave you just makes your blood pumping so hard. No wonder Sunghoon loves this kind of vehicle. This fits him so much.

When he started to add more speed, you couldn’t help but to squeal and giggle. Sunghoon tilts his head and rests one of his hand on your thigh, caressing it. Only one of his hand is in control.

“Hoon! Focus on the road!” you shouted, slightly panicking.

He glances on the road then glances back at you, “What?” he asks a bit muffled due to the helmet.

“I said focus on the road! Both hand on the bike!”

He chuckles and bit his lower lip because of how adorable you sound. The way your arms wrapped tighter around his body is making him giddy inside.

He gave your thighs one more squeeze before removing it to follow your request. It made you relieved and rests your body on his back on more relaxed way.

It took a few minutes until you arrived at their house. This will be the first time you will be coming here. Your head perks up, trying to admire the big elegant gates that surrounds the mansion.

It was fully secured and even before his bike near the big gates, it opened automatically. He drove inside and the driveway is so wide. There’s even a fountain at the middle.

Once his bike was perfectly parked, you kept looking around to check the whole vicinity. You failed to even notice the house workers rushing to greet their newly arrived young master.

Sunghoon made sure you’re stable enough to hold yourself while he get off the bike. He took off his helmet and you watch as he shakes his head to arrange his slightly messed hair. He looked smoking hot.

His eyes stares right at you, ignoring everybody else around. He smirks then settles his helmet on his bike to unhook yours. Your eyes looks cautious once its out in the open. You can now perfectly see the numerous eyes watching the two of you and its making you feel a bit awkward.

Sunghoon saw your reaction and couldn’t help himself but to place a kiss on your cheeks. You looked adorable. You’re still awkwardly staring at their maids while he gently fix your hair that slightly got messy.

“S-Should I say Hi? What should I do, Hoon?” you whispered nervously.

He chuckles and leaned again to give you another kiss, this one a little harder because you’re too adorable.

“Nah, its fine.” he assures you.

“But they’re staring.”

He smiles, “Probably wondering whose this pretty girl I’m with.”

Your pout got deeper, cheeks turning more red because of him. He snorted and carried you off his bike. He helped you take off his leather jacket before holding your hand to pull you inside.

The maids bows their heads when he’s walking pass by making it more awkward. You feel like you need to do something as well. It feels wrong to let them bow without returning the favor. It doesn’t seem like that for Hoon, tho. Its like he’s already used to these things.

“A-Are we going to hang out here?” you ask, trying to divert your attention away from the surprising scene back there.

You roam your eyes around while still holding onto Sunghoon’s hand and letting him drag you towards somewhere.

“Nope.” he said making the popping sound at the ‘p’.

“Then why did we go here?” when you guys made it at the second floor, he walked towards the right and by the end is his room.

He opens the room and you couldn’t help but to feel nervous with a hint of excitement. Even if you didn’t want to, your mind instantly plays a lot of scenarios that can happen.

Sunghoon smirks seeing your blushing cheeks and flustered expression.

“Calm down, pretty. We ain’t doing anything here.” he assures you while leaning close to you from the back. His lips grazing over your ears, hot breath fanning.

“O-Okay...”

“Disappointed?” he asked teasingly. You furrowed your brows trying to hide it, but guilty is plastered all over your face.

“No!”

He chuckles and kisses your neck before walking inside his room, leaving you standing by the door.

“Don’t worry, we have all day.” and he winks before going straight to another door which you assume to be his walk-in-closet.

“Come inside, love. Don’t be shy.” he shouts and that make you take further steps.

His whole room is designed in a simple yet manly way. Minimal colored furnitures that are pleasing in the eyes. Everything is pretty organized for a guy like Sunghoon. Well, you didn’t expect him to be this neat.

You walk towards a few picture frames after noticing them. One of them is a family picture. His Mom and Dad together with Sunghoon and his sister. You’ve never seen her before. She’s very pretty.

Beside that frame is a picture of Sunghoon with the boys. He’s in the middle and it seems like it was taken during one of his birthdays. Heeseung’s smiling widely with a piece sign pose. Jake’s arm wrapped around Sunghoon’s shoulder while he have the biggest grin on his face. Jay is smiling beside them with the same pose as Heeseung.

You can’t help but to smile at how precious they are. Your eyes wanders off and notice one picture frame from the far left corner of the room. It cannot be noticed right away, like as of it was purposely placed there so it can have its privacy.

When you’re about to walk towards it, Sunghoon went out from the walk-in-closet. A big bag on his hand and a bunch of paper bags on the other one.

“Find anything interesting?” he asks.

“The four of you really grew up together, huh?”

He smirks, “Can you tell how sick I am from Jake’s tantrums?” he jokes that made you chuckle. They always love teasing him.

You rest your one hand over his chest and playfully glare at him. “Stop teasing him too much. You know he’s just like that.”

He snorted and laid the paperbags down at his king-sized bed. “Yeah, whatever.”

Your eyes darted over the paperbags. Just by the color and the brands, its mostly for women. He watch your reaction and smile carefully, admiring how cute you are.

“I got these for you.” he mumbles as he hugs you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Why so many?”

He inhaled your scent that he’s grown addicted to. “Because you deserve it.” and he placed a kiss on your cheeks.

“Thank you so much, Hoonie.” you said sweetly.

“You’re welcome, love.” he kissed your neck once before he asks you to sit down his bed so you can check everything out.

“Such cute dresses!” you exclaimed and even took out a few so you can see it properly.

Its sundresses that definitely fits you well. Just the way you like it. You glance at Sunghoon and he’s smiling.

“Yeah, it will look good on you.”

“Where are we going anyway?”

“Secret.” he bopped your nose once before asking you to change quickly.

You nodded and went inside his walk-in-closet after picking the dress you wanted to wear first. Sunghoon said he would pack the rest just in case you want to go change. He’s so thoughtful.

“Damn.” he cursed the moment you went outside.

Your cheeks blushed hardly due to the hot stares he’s giving you right now. The dress is on, but the way he’s eyeing you makes you feel so naked in front of him. It was almost like he’s stripping you inside his mind!

“H-How does it look?”

He struts closer to you and reached for your hand before dropping a kiss on top of it.

“Can you turn around for me, love?” he whispered oh so gently that it sent direct shivers to your spine. Its the way his voice sounded so low.

You giggled to try and mask the pounding of your heart and did as he told. While still holding your hand, he turns you around.

“Perfect...” he said with a small smile. “You look perfect.”

His intense gaze remains for a while before you decided to lean towards him to connect your aching lips with his. Its too much. The emotions, his stares, his warm touch— you just need to feel his kisses.

He returns your kisses right away, kissing you hungrily and hardly. It made you feel how much he wanted you as much as you want him. Both of your hearts heartbeats synchronized as he hold you close to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck to deepen the kiss.

He was biting your lips and sliding his tongue inside your mouth to get a good taste of you. He groans as you moan softly, he squeezed your hips as a signal and you jumped to wrap your legs on his body. He held you for support as he sat down the bed to continue kissing you, devouring you.

“H-Hoon,” you moaned his name and his brows furrowed hardly before moving away. He even gave your lips one last chaste kiss before looking at your eyes.

“Later, pretty.” he said that made you slightly frustrated. You can feel the space between your thighs dripping wet and you want him inside you right now.

He rest his forehead on yours and smiles, “I promise to make it up to you later, okay?” he tries assuring you when he saw the slight upset look on your face.

You pout and left with no choice, but to agree with him. He fixes your hair and guided you back to your feet. He grabbed the bag containing both of your things.

The two of you went downstairs and you saw the maids once again. It made you awkward, but you smiled brightly at them and tried waving.

“We’re not taking your bike?” you asked confused when you noticed that he’s guiding you inside a sports car you’ve never seen before. He never used this at school.

“No.” he answered casually and placed the bag at the compartment before opening the door for you.

“Then why not take this car at the first place?”

He smiles and rests his hand on your lower back, “Because I remember you mentioning how you want to try to ride that bike.”

Your eyes turned softly at what he said. As far as you remember, you’ve only said it once and he managed to remember that. You tip-toed and placed a kiss on his lovely lips.

“Thank you so much, Hoonie.”

“Anything for you.” he kissed your temple before letting you go inside first.

“We’re riding that?!” you exclaimed and even hopped continuously while looking over this yacht.

He chuckled and nodded, “Yes.”

“Really?! I’ve never been in one!” and you stared with so much amusement towards the fancy yacht.

There are people trying to get it ready after your arrival. They greeted the two of you with enthusiasm and helped you get on it. Sunghoon’s hand are assisting you so you wouldn’t fall as the yacht are a little unstable due to the waves.

“Careful.” he mumbles sweetly and once he’s sure you’re safe aboard, he stepped in with no sweat. Obvious that this isn’t his first time.

“Wow!” it looked so fancy. It has one room and an overview deck that is perfect.

Sunghoon talked to the people and you watch how one by one they started to leave the yacht. You glanced at him with confusion.

“Are we going alone?”

“Yes.” he answered and even fold his white polo.

“Can you drive it?” the question doesn’t sound like as if you don’t trust him behind the wheels, but more of an amusement that he can manoeuvre one. Is there something he cannot do?

He smirks, “Yeah. Me and the boys usually go out to fish whenever we’re bored.”

“So you’re taking your yacht?” and you even held onto the railings because its still moving a bit because of the waves.

“We take our own yachts, love. We race on the ocean too.” he smiled cockily that made you rolled your eyes.

He chuckles and pulls you closer to kiss you on the lips. You forgot how these boys are born rich and on another level.

“Anyway, let me show you around before we sail.” he grabbed your hand then gently intertwined your fingers before guiding you inside.

The whole yacht is pretty. After roaming around, he asked you to come up to him as he’ll start driving towards the ocean already. He even handed you a summer hat. No wonder he gave you a pair of black two piece to wear under this sundress.

“Woah.” you exclaimed amazed when he started driving. He glanced at you and chuckled at how amazed you are.

Actually, since he’ll be the last one to take you out on a date. He was a little worried that one of them would have the idea on taking you on a trip on a yacht. Thankfully, none of them did and he proceeded on his plan.

“Wow! The water is so clean here!” you even ran down the stairs so you can look over the front railings.

“Be careful, pretty.” Sunghoon reminded while looking at your direction, wearing a sunglasses.

“Do you think there’s shark here?” you asked worried.

Sunghoon can’t suppress the smile spreading across his handsome face. How come you’re so adorable while asking these innocent questions to fill your curiosity? He really can’t with you. He feel like he will lose his mind.

Once he’s satisfied enough of your location, and by that it means you’re in the middle of ocean, far from any land you can set your eyes to.

The water’s so clean and the breeze ain’t that bad too. Its such a perfect weather to come here and you can’t stop giggling to yourself while watching the crystal clear water beneath.

You failed to notice how Sunghoon sets the anchor and grabbed the mat to place it on the middle. He glanced at you and you’re now wearing your bikini. His eyes dangerously racking from your head down to your body.

He licks his lips and walked closer. You glanced behind you when a shadow looms and you smiled brightly at your boyfriend.

“Its so beautiful here.”

He smiles, “I think you’re prettier.”

Even before you can master a reaction, he reached for your arm and helped you get up. Your eyes stares right at his and mouth gapped open, unable to say a word because of how handsome he is.

“Come here.” he then guided you to the mat and your eyes looked thrilled of what’s about to unfold.

“Lay down for me.” and you obliged to his request.

You’ve gone silent because of excitement and every cell in your body is getting hyped up.

“I want to taste you.” he says and hand racks from caressing your cheeks, down to your neck, chest and tummy. He just ran his hand on your skin, very gentle. Taking all his time.

He pressed his palm on your stomach and made you lay on your back. He leans in and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, then on your stomach before pulling away to get a full view of your bikini.

“It looks so well on you...” he compliments and even stick his finger on the waist band, dangerously playing with it.

He lifts his eyes trying to check for your reaction and he smirks seeing how your eyes looked so desperate for him... for his touch.

“But I think they need to be stripped off of you.” his fingers pressed on your skin. They felt so hot, burning.

You gulped slowly feeling like as if you’re being lifted in the air.

“Do you want me to take it off of you, pretty?” his voice soft, a bit teasing. Obviously teasing.

You nodded, a bit eager making his smirk grew wider. He loves it whenever you’re like this. He pulls his hand away then towards the knot on the hips. Slowly, he pulls the string to untangle it.

You bit your lips in anticipation, but unconsciously roam your eyes around.

“Here? Outside?” you nervously mumbled, also feeling a bit excited about it. “B-But what if people see us?”

“We’re so far from any land, love.” and he caress your legs to ease you a bit. A smirk still plays through his sexy lips, “And besides the fishes can use some entertainment.” he joked.

You glared at him playfully that made him chuckle as he kisses your knees. “Just kidding. Relax, okay? We’re safe here.”

Eventually, you did relaxed by his touch and his assuring eyes.

“I’m going to eat you now.” he warned and it was almost like a torture for you.

A nod is all you answer to him. Your mind was already blank. All you can think of is how you want to feel his lips on your core, his tongue deep inside you.

He placed a kiss on your inner thighs before diving in. A gasp left your mouth the moment his lips touched your core. It was warm and slightly wet. He started lapping in a slow, torturous pace. Like as if enjoying taking his time making out with your pussy.

“H-Hoon!” you called his name out like he was not there, between your legs.

His fingers digged on your skin as he looks at your over his eyes. He enjoyed the view of your pleasured face, but he’s enjoying eating you even more. He can taste your sweetness all over his mouth and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Ugh!” and your hand reaches for his soft hair when he started to eat you more aggressively.

You felt like you’re up in the sky, mind blank and like as if nothing else mattered for you. You couldn’t even worry about the chance of people seeing the two of you anymore. Just your orgasm coming your way. Sunghoon is really making you dumb using his tongue.

Your back arches when you’re almost there. Sunghoon knew you’re close so he tried reaching the depth of your pussy using his hot tongue. His lips completely attached on your clit adding to the pleasure you are having.

Sunghoon’s finger tightens on your skin making you whimper. His eyes flutters open to scan you and even before you can reach for his hand to hold it, his grip loosen. Your brows furrowed in confusion for his behavior but it was all thrown away once his his thumb rubs on your clit for added pleasure.

You are losing your mind. He’s so good with it. Knowing what feels good and what can make you completely insane for him.

“Sunghoon!” you screamed and eyes rolled at the back of your head before your release the first anticipated orgasm of the day.

You felt his lips stretched in a grin as he lapped your juice shamelessly. While still at trance riding your high, you carded your hair then looked at him again.

He moved away from your now pulsating pussy and you can see the look of lust on his eyes.

“Here,” he mumbled shortly. Without a warning, he kisses you on the lips passing you some of your own juices. It caught you slightly off-guard, doesn’t really know how to describe such new taste.

He have the biggest smirk after he succeeded making you taste your own orgasm. He looked proud even if you looked even closer.

“Now you know why we go crazy for you.”

You don’t know if you should be thankful that you moved inside the yacht after he fucked you twice outside. It was such a different experience. Clueless if it was because of the thrill of being outside having sex in the open where people can see you, or because Sunghoon looked so hot fucking you. Probably both.

While making out now on top of the bed, both stripped off of every clothes, Sunghoon’s hands were on you. It was so hot for you. The three orgasms you just had was like not enough when you start feeling your core getting wet again.

Sunghoon only managed to cum once. And you can’t help but to feel bothered about it. Not because he only released one time, but because how of how he’s acting a bit strange.

You’ve known Sunghoon. This isn’t the first time you two did this. You’ve seen how he is on bed and its not enough to describe how good he is. He’s usually very dominant and loves to be rough around you. Manhandling you every time.

But the whole two rounds, he was so gentle. It still feel good, yes. Its just you can’t help but to notice how he seemed to be holding himself back. Treating you like some fragile glass that will break if he became rough even in the slightest way.

“Hoon, wait.” you pushed him off, his lips chased you and his eyes looked so drunken in love.

“Hmm?” he hummed, not sure if he’s really in the right mind to listen.

“What’s wrong?” you asked worriedly that made his brows creased in confusion.

“Huh?” he licked his lips then ran his hand on your hair to brush them away from your face. “What do you mean?”

You gulped then search his eyes, staring right at his soul.

“Why are you acting different?” you heaved a sigh. “It seems like your holding yourself back.”

Sunghoon was caught off-guard. He is a bit tensed. This was so unlike him. He’s usually very confident in bed and always gets it the way he wants. He didn’t think that you would notice.

He glanced away and was about to move away, but you captured his face then made him stare back at you.

“Come on...” you gave him an assuring smile. “You can tell me.”

He remained silent for a while before he gave in. He sighed heavily before placing a swift kiss on your hand that was cupping his face.

“I’m j-just scared that I went overboard and scare you.” he explains that slowly shed light on you.

“You said that you don’t like us being aggressive...” his voice lowered, like as if he’s so afraid. “I’m scared to lose you. I don’t want to lose you.” he confessed.

Your heart strings tugs when he said those words to you. You bit your lower lip and smiled at him lovingly before leaning in to give him a kiss on his lips. Slow and very passionate so he can feel how much you adore him.

“Well...” you started after pulling away. “I can give an exemption.” you said staring at his eyes.

His eyes sparkles. “But..”

You shushed him with another kiss then you leaned over his ears to whisper. “It will be our little secret.”

And after you say that, you felt his hold tighten. Sunghoon’s eyes turned darker like something has flipped inside him.

He pushed you on the bed, his hand on your neck. Wrapped like a necklace, just like how you liked it.

“Is this what you want, doll?” he asked in a low husky voice.

Your stomach churns at his words and on the way he looked at you. His jaw hardly clenched while manhandling you effortlessly.

“Y-Yes...” it came out like a desperate moan, driving him insane.

“I was doing you a favor and actually being nice and yet you want this side of me.” he scoffed sexily and tilt his head on the side.

“I didn’t know that you’re so naughty, y/n.” he stated. “Such a horny doll for me, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling your core getting even more aroused and starting to clench around on nothing.

“Words... I need words.” he grunted that made you gasp when he tighten his hand on your neck.

“Y-Yes, Hoon!” you managed to say.

He smirked, “That’s my girl.”

“Now I’m going to fuck you so hard and I don’t want to hear any complains.” he said then started to align his now fully erect member on your hole.

“So wet....” he growled. “So so wet for me.”

He leaned down and rest his nose on your cheeks after one kiss. He didn’t even informed you and just slided his whole length inside making you jolt.

“Ugh!” you moaned with a mixed pain and pleasure.

“Your cunt is choking my big dick, doll. You feel that?” he whispered sensually that almost sent you to heaven.

You shut your eyes tightly because of the immense pleasure he’s currently sending you. He started moving, sliding his dick in and out with no mercy. The slapping sound of your skins echoes all over the whole yacht.

“Fuck...” he cursed and his grip on both of your waist tightens. His fingers pressed hardly on your skin, marking it.

He pulled away while still fucking you senselessly. “Let me suck those tits.” and dives in he goes. He licked, sucked and bit your nipple making you gasp.

Your teeth sunked on your lips tightly trying to suppress the moans coming out from them. But when he started to suck on your skin more aggressively, you’ve lose it. The sensation of his dick going inside in a rough way and him marking you all over was just too much to handle.

“Feels so good!”

He scoffed, “Yeah? It feels so good to get you fucked this way?!” he licked his lips and slapped your breast once that made you yelp.

It felt so good. So good that you’re losing your mind. Your whole body vibrated after you reached your orgasm and Sunghoon smirked because of it. He grabbed you on the jaw and made you looked at him straight to the eyes.

“Your pussy walls felt amazing around me, doll.” he leans and kissed you on the lips. “Nothing can ever beat this feeling. Nobody can ever replace you in my life.” and started rutting his cock even harder.

“Open your mouth.” he commanded as you felt his thrust getting faster and deeper. His dick starts to pulsate inside you, indicating his orgasm to get closer.

You obliged and open your lovely lips for him. For Sunghoon, the man that holds you and your heart on chokehold.

He gathers a generous amount of saliva on his tongue before spitting it straight to you. Then without thinking twice you swallowed them before opening it once again to show it to him.

He looked so proud before he placed his hands on your hips again to fuck you harder. He groans and clenched his jaw harder.

You whimpered, feeling another release on the way.

“I’m fucking close, doll. I’m going to breed you so good and make sure you’ll keep all my sead inside you.” and after a couple of thrust he busted it all inside just like he said.

Both of you moaned together when you finished at the same time. He clasped your lips together and thrust inside you in a slower pace to ride both of your highs. It felt so good, amazing.

Sunghoon collapsed beside you, panting. He catches his breath for a while before he raise on the bed, leaning over his elbow to check on you.

“Was that okay, love?” now, his eyes looked a lot more softer. “Too much?” he sounded worried.

You chuckled and with the remaining strength, you leaned in to give him a kiss on his lips. “You were amazing, Hoon.”

Relief washes all over him before resting his forehead on yours.

“I love you.” your heart swells.

“I love you too.” you respond. He kissed you once on the cheek before pushing himself up to grab a warm wet towel to clean you up.

He refused to make you stand up and asked you to stay completely still. You didn’t tried to argue because your whole body is aching. Now its all kicking up and tiredness is slowly taking over.

He starts cleaning you and you watch him with loving eyes. Your heart felt so full watching him take care of you that way.

“Why do you call me doll? Is it because you get off with the thought that you can use me?” you innocently asked him.

His hand stopped from wiping you off. With furrowed brows he glanced at you.

“No.” he answered right away. “Is that how you interpreted it?”

You shrugged your shoulders off, “I read online that some guys think that way.”

He sighed, “I am calling you doll because you’re very beautiful.”

You smiled. “Really?”

He leaned closer to place a hearty kiss on your lips. “Really.”

You felt giddy inside after that then he resumed cleaning you up. While mind slightly floating, you remembered the same question you’ve asked the three boys.

“Hoon?” you called his attention.

“Yes, my love?”

“When did you start liking me?”

He raised his head so he can look in your eyes.

“When I was five years old.”

- Flashback -

Multiple screams coming from the neighborhood kids surrounded the whole playground as the five year old Park Sunghoon hovers over another boy. He got him pinned on the dusty field, holding his cute little collar and punching him once on the face.

“Who’s the scaredy cat now, huh?” he hissed at the crying boy beneath him.

Nobody dares to interfere at the scene, every kid afraid of him. Park Sunghoon. The eldest son of the richest family in the private subdivision. Almost everyone knows him and his family. How can they not? Their beautiful, gigantic million dollar mansion sure is always the talk of the people.

“Sunghoon! Oh, dear!” someone finally went in between and moves him away on top from the poor kid.

His eyes remains staring at him, glaring if you may describe it accurately. He didn’t care if the other kids are giving him those terrified looks or if the neighbourhood moms are whispering with each other about how awful kid he is.

All he can think of is that he’s mad and that kid surely learned his lesson not to mess with him.

“How many times would I have to tell you not to hurt other kids?!” his Mother’s voice is stressed out as she paced back and fort in front of him.

He’s back home and sat down at the sofa, earning an earful conversation with his Mom. She’s stressed that she has to deal with that boy’s family and his hospital bills. Not that it can hurt their wealth, but sure the rumors will spread around and will be embarrassing. She has no idea what to do with him anymore. He’s uncontrollable.

He remains silent that made her even more frustrated. It was obvious that he fears nobody and that even if she talks nonstop, he doesn’t care.

Ever since the incident, as expected, no one wants to play with him anymore. Whenever he goes at the playground, he’s always accompanied with his bodyguard that can stop if ever things escalates.

He roams his eyes around and the kids avoids his eyes with fear. They’re playing in groups, their usual friends.

He doesn’t care or feel hurt about it. In fact, Sunghoon doesn’t even want to play with them. For him they’re all boring and dumb.

“Hi!” Sunghoon snaps his head over to the side after hearing this sweet voice.

That was the first time Park Sunghoon lay eyes on you. With your cute little dress and hair tied with cute bows. Your eyes doesn’t reflect any fear and you have the brightest smile flashing towards him.

‘Wait... Him?’ Sunghoon, couldn’t help but thought.

“Y/n! What are you doing?!” another little girl went close and grabbed her by the arm.

“I told you not to go near him!” she added and even shoot glares at Sunghoon’s side. But when he looks at her, she quickly turned pale and glances away.

“Why? He’s all alone, Sujin.” you even pout your lips.

The other little girl kept on insisting for you to leave Sunghoon alone and he’s just there, watching all of it unfold in front of him.

“It’s okay, Sujin. Go play with the others! I want to use the swing!” you insisted and even started walking closer to where Sunghoon’s at.

Sujin, your friend, was left with no choice but to leave. She doesn’t want to, but she also doesn’t want to be near Sunghoon.

“Hello!” your voice snaps him back to reality.

He didn’t talk and just looked at you with his intimidating eyes. For someone who is five, Sunghoon sure make kids around his age uncomfortable through his gaze. Maybe because despite the pretty eyes, his brows are too thick making him on the more arrogant looking type. The snob kids. His skin pale as snow and his clothes are all branded, indicating a clear status in life.

“Why are you alone?” you asked.

Sunghoon gulps and tried hard to hide what he’s starting to feel. Never in his life that he felt shy or conscious around anyone. He grew up with so much confidence and yet here he is, palm sweating, eyes a little shakey. He wanted so bad to look away, but your pretty eyes makes it so hard for him.

He kept his snobby face then ignores you completely, jumps off the swing then slowly walks towards somewhere. Your lips pursed into a pout because of his attitude, but it didn’t stop you from following him.

“So do you often go to this playground?” once again a small smile flashing through your pretty face.

Young Sunghoon sighs, a little annoyed. Not just because you’re not leaving him alone, but also because he hates how deep down he’s curious of you. He cannot understand himself. Was it because this is the first time someone was not intimidated by his rotten attitude?

He turns around and met eyes with your bright ones. He’s unfocused. He doesn’t know what’s it about. His young self have no idea that this will be the start of his obsession over you.

It continued that way and even before you can notice it, its been a year. Whenever you see Sunghoon around that playground, you won’t leave him alone. Following him around and asking him continuously despite not receiving any response from him.

Today, Sunghoon visits the playground once again. His eyes roams, unconsciously searching for your familiar pretty face. He wanted to say that he’s relieved that he didn’t saw you, but a big part of him is disappointed that you’re not here. He knew today won’t be as fun.

He walks towards the swing and naturally, the kids around cleared up. They still don’t want to be near him even if the last time he hurt somebody was long ago. Ever since you followed him around, he didn’t cause any trouble again. He was always too preoccupied about you that he clearly forgot about messing with the other kids.

He tries to swing his body while hoping he would see you playing with the few group of kids around. When he realized that you are really not here, he sighs heavily and get off the swing.

He was ready to head back to their family car when a small voice calls him out from a distance.

“Hoon!” that nickname.

He whips his head, in search of you. He saw you right away, jogging— almost running your way towards his direction. Excitement ignites young Sunghoon. He licks his lips and tries hard to keep his deadpan expression.

Once you’re in front of him, you stopped to catch your breath and he waited patiently for you to stabilise your breathing.

“Are you leaving already?” you asked, pouting. You didn’t even try to hide that you want him to stay longer.

Instead of answering you, his eyes racks from your head down to your feet. Its like he’s checking if you’re all right. Then Sunghoon’s brows knitted closer when he noticed something on your skin.

“What happened here?” he asks lowly and hand reaches for your arm.

You looked surprised that he managed to notice that.

“U-Uh, I fell down!” and you even followed it with an awkward laugh.

Sunghoon stares right through your eyes, checking them. It was such an intense gaze from a six year old kid. He knew you were lying, but he decided to ignore it for now.

“Next time, be careful.” he whispered full of concern.

You’re caught off guard. That was the first time you ever saw some other emotions through his face. Ever since that day, you two became inseparable. Sunghoon’s Mom are delighted for his sudden change of behavior. Well, he’s still a troublemaker. But its a lot more tolerable when you’re around.

3rd grade and both of you went to the same school. Of course, he’s still always around you. Almost everyone around the campus and your village knew about the eldest son of the Parks being whipped over you.

“Y/n,” he calls when you started bolting towards the wide field of the school ground. You’re grinning from ear to ear and chuckling.

“I told you to be careful.” he reminds.

Most people notices how Sunghoon acts maturely than his age. Or maybe that’s just how he acts whenever he’s around you. He’s always alert, like as if always ready just incase you needed anything.

“Why should I be worried? You’re here with me.” you sounded so assured and you are. As long as he’s around, you don’t feel any worries or fear. Sunghoon gives you peace of mind and you are his peace.

Sunghoon remained the very same. Protective and caring of you. But something added to it. He started to act possessive around you. If someone gets interested towards you, or even tries to catch your attention, he will go mad.

“I can’t believe you did that to him.” you looked upset while crossing your arms in front of him.

You’re at the ice rink. He’s having his ice hockey practice when he suddenly got into a fight with another one from their team. You remember him. He’s the one who tries to be friends with you last practice.

It pissed the hell out of Ten year old Park Sunghoon. That was the first time he ever invited you to his hockey practice and that happened.

He’s currently sat down at the bench, still on his hockey uniform. Hair’s disheveled after taking off his head gear and he’s resting his elbows on his knees while watching you silently.

“You punched him hard! Did you see his nose?” you added and its just making him more upset. Seeing you this affected by him is making him feel irritated towards that guy even more.

“He deserves it.” he mumbles, but enough for you to hear.

You gazed at him with an hawkeye look on your eyes. “Nobody deserves that!”

He clenches his jaw and lets go of his gloves while he stare up at you. He’s sat down and you’re standing in front of you.

“Why are you even so worried about him? Makes me want to beat him more.” his eyes looked serious and scary.

“What?” you sounded confused then added, “Why are you not worried for him? He’s part of your team.”

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t care about him.”

He stood up making your height difference visible. He took a step closer, making your bodies almost touch each other. You gulped, feeling nervous, heart beating so fast. Lately, you noticed that its always been like that whenever he’s this close to you.

“All I care about is you.” he says while staring down at your eyes. His gaze so intense.

“And I hate it whenever someone’s trying to take away you from me.”

You gulped, cheeks blushing.

“N-Nobody will ever take me away from you, Hoon.” this time, it was your turn to assure him.

You’ve grown attached to him as much as he is with you. And Sunghoon loves whenever you talk like this. Assuring him that you aren’t going anywhere, that you will stay with him.

But life truly is full of surprises. Because the next thing he knew, he was outside the hospital hallway. Your Mom on the side crying, his Mom beside her comforting her.

Sunghoon’s mind was blank while he looks at you from outside the emergency room. His blood went cold, heart being pressed too hardly that he finds it difficult to breath.

He watches how the nurses tries hard to save you from the crash. A car crash. He can’t help but to blame himself. Yes, he’s just Eight. There’s a lot of things that he doesn’t know, a lot of things he still can’t do, a lot of decisions that he regrets.

Due to your close relationship with Sunghoon, he was aware of your parent’s marriage that slowly crashing down. He was with you althrough out of it.

He was there whenever you cry about how they often fight. How your Dad always shouts at your Mom and how he would occasionally hit her.

Sunghoon wants to do something about it. He even informed his parents so they could help, but your Mom refused to file a case to your Dad. They were helpless.

He lets it pass and just made sure you have him and that you’re aware that he isn’t going anywhere. But he couldn’t take it anymore when one day, he saw you with a bruise on your face.

He managed to convince his parents to talk to your Mother about it. Thankfully, she listened this time and file a divorce with him. The case was rolling and Sunghoon’s family were doing their best to help as much as they can.

When it was finalised, your Mom having the custody of you it made your Dad enraged. He took you without her consent and drove away. He was acting crazy, saying that if you two are going to leave him alone, he might as well be dead. And he will take you with him.

That’s why you are here in the hospital, body full of blood and nurses are doing their best to save your life.

Sunghoon rests his hand on the glass that separating you two. He clenched his jaw and eyes brimming with tears. He shuts his eyes and for the first time, he found himself praying. He prayed for your safety and in return he will stay away from you.

He thought it was the end for the two of you. It was so hard to be around you while he felt so guilty about what happened to you. When he learned about you losing most of your memories including those with him, he took that opportunity and asked his parents to move town.

It was heart breaking for young Sunghoon. He knew you are his other half. You belong to him as much as he belongs to you. He lose his spark the moment he moved town. He started becoming the troublemaker that he is before you happened in his life.

Then he met his friends. He started to feel much better. Still longing for you, but better.

He can’t remember the last time he felt his heart drummed. He even forgot how it felt, not until he saw you walking inside the very same classroom five years after. A lot changed in you, but the moment you stepped foot inside he knew right away. His heart reacted like as if a dog seeing its owner after being separated for a long time.

Now that you’re back with him, he can’t mess this up. He lost you once and almost lose you again. He doesn’t think he can afford to go through those therapies again if ever you leave him.

Your eyes were full of tears after hearing it from him. He smiled and held you closer to his warmth, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m s-sorry I forgot about you.” arms wrapping around him to cry even harder.

You felt so bad about it. Yes, you can still remember how frustrating it was when you woke up one day and can’t remember anything. But for you, it was much harder for Sunghoon. Imagine having someone so special for you but they can’t remember you at all. That’s so heart breaking.

“Shh, its okay love.” he placed another set of feathery kisses on your cheeks. “It ain’t your fault.”

He pulls away to cup your cheeks. His eyes are tearstained as well, but a soft warm smile reflects on it.

“I’m just so glad fate brought you back to me.” and he rests his forehead on yours.

You sniffed and shut your eyes, feeling his presense even more. Letting everything sink to you. Embracing your moment with him.

“And I’m not going anywhere anymore. I love you, Sunghoon.”

He smiled, a tear fell from his eyes.

“I love you.” and he leans in to seal it with a loving, affectionate kiss.

permanent taglist:

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[wonubby]

obsessed - k! bakugo

1. make sure katsuki leaves the house in a questionable state

synopsis - despite knowing you've successfully bagged katsuki bakugou, aka pro hero dynamight, his fans are still shipping him with his ex. so what's a better way to claim him than leaving little trails of your love on him? specifically, his body.

warnings – 17+ only, slightly suggestive, not that much, swearing, kinda humiliation, reports being disgusting

prev - masterlist - next

it wasn't normal for katsuki to be late for work. at only twenty-six years old, he managed to follow a strict schedule every day for the past five years. so yes, it was odd to kirishima when he suddenly decided to be late, especially on the day of an important meeting with well-known news reporters.

unbeknownst to him, katsuki was a little busy.

and by busy, he was making out with his hot fiancée, who had suddenly pounced on him.

"c'mon, baby, you know i need to go," he mumbled between kisses, making no action to move away. in fact, his hands on your waist pulled you even closer.

smirking into the kiss, you pulled away, nudging his collar down slightly to suck and nibble onto his neck. "mm, but katsu." a groan left him at your tone. "you do these meetings every month. just miss it and stay with me." you mumbled against his neck, a dark blotch forming on the sensitive skin.

"ya' know, i can't. fuck- you gotta let me go, doll."

his words only enabled you more, pushing his body onto the couch, straddling his waist. "you, don't need to be anywhere but here. you hear me?" slowly connecting your lips with his again, you push your hips down, clothed clit catching onto his growing bulge.

a whiny moan escaped his lips at the sudden attack, instantly being swallowed with your swollen ones. it didn't take long for him to feed into your persuasions, not that he could resist anyway.

"look at you, being all submissive under me just cause i rubbed myself on your dick a few times. whos the pathetic one now, huh?" you provoked. katsuki knew what you were doing, and those words just egged him on further.

growling into your lips, he flipped you over. your back was now against the soft pillows of the couch, with him on top of you, grinding into you even harder.

bzz!! bzz!!

the sound of his phone buzzing broke his trance. instantly pulling himself away from your compelling body, he turned his attention onto his phone.

kirishima.

his brain had been fogged with kisses and dry sex, and, until now, the meeting was long forgotten. cursing, he quickly fumbled to fix his state, not caring or even realising he had lipstick smudged against his lips and a new hickey proudly forming on his Adam's apple and that his hair was wrecked.

"you fucking minx, you really tried to make me late, didn't ya'?" he groaned, directing his glare from his phone to you.

that sly smirk made its way onto your face once more, leaning up to sit on your knees, your hands resting on his thighs. "well it worked, didn't it? you're still here, and you need to be at the meeting in 15 mins." a hand slowly trailed up, rubbing onto his bulge.

"shut the fuck up; i'll deal with you later." katsuki quickly swatted your hands away, cheeks flushed and brain, once again, slowing. he continued his journey to the door, quickly turning around to give you a pointed look. one that said, 'this aint over,' before walking out.

proud, you sat back onto your heels, a smug look on your face.

'and now we wait.'

it didn't take long for katsuki to reach the hall. he had practically flown himself over, with a few clips and photos of him soaring through the air already posted on social media platforms. some even claiming they saw him come out from amira's house.

absolute bullshit.

izuku was the first one to notice him, gasping at his appearance and nudging shoto to take a look.

"er, kacchan... are you okay?" izuku mumbled, worried by the state of his childhood friend.

raising an eyebrow in a menacing way, he slowly turned towards the green-haired male. "the fuck's that supposed to mean, deku? ya' callin' me ugly?" katsuki gruffed, narrowing his eyes at him.

"no! of course not its just, um–"

before the boy could get his sentence out, the producer called the group forward, nudging them to get out and sit in front of the public.

one by one, the boys and girls were called forward, each getting their own introduction and speech. finally came katsuki's turn. he stepped out into the air, expecting a loud cheer as usual. instead, he was met with quiet gasps and hushed whispers. he couldn't help but be confused but kept his confident facade up, walking to his seat.

you, on the other hand, were grinning like the cheshire cat. not only had you managed to send him out a mess, but he didn't even notice!

there he was, sitting in his chair, manspreading. his hand slightly veiny and twitchy, lips bruised and decorated with light gloss and hair ruffled. oh, and the hickey.

he was beautiful, at least in your eyes. the public were half convinced he'd walked out of a porno and stopped to show up to a live interview. which... was half true!

questions came and went for the heroes, none particularly standing out to katsuki, well, at least until they started asking about his appearance.

"dynamight, this one's for you!" katsuki perked up in his seat, scowl evident on his face.

"go ahead," another grunt.

with a slow gulp, the reporter stood, hands shaking. "so, as you can tell, your appearance isn't quite the best. can you elaborate on maybe what or who you were doing before you got here?" the question made katsuki's head snap, glaring at the reporter.

'the fuck did he just say to me?'

quiet chuckles could be heard from the left side of the room. "what the hell are you two laughing at? huh, dunce face?"

"i mean, sorry, man, but turning up to an interview looking like you just filmed a sex gimmick is insane. you got that afterglow and everything." denki snickerd and katsuki stilled.

'sex gimmick...?'

the scene was so comical, you could almost see the cogs in his head turning. his mind flashed back to 30 minutes prior, the way you were on him, the grinding, the kissing, the – shit.

letting out a scoff, katsuki covered up his shock with a snide remark. "yeah, well, at least you all know how good i'm getting it."

jirou and mina were doubled over laughing, izuku spat out his water, and ochako looked as if she could pass out.

the reporter deadpanned, asking another question straight away. "well, mr dynamight, how do you feel knowing you've outed yourself like this to the public, and who exactly did this to you?" what a stupid fucking question.

"what kinda question is that? tch, of course my fi-" reminding himself that your updated relationship status wasn't known to the public yet, he corrected himself. "my fucking girlfriend did this to me. who else would? and i don't give a fuck about my sex life being outright known to the public," he said, nonchalantly.

"there have been many rumours that you and your ex part-"

"next, i dont have time for this shit. It's a hero interview, not an interview on my personal life." he dismissed the reporter in a second, moving to a new topic, as someone else had asked shoto about his father.

however, you sat there, a small smirk on your face, clenching your thighs at the sight of your man.

'he is totally getting some tonight!'

© 2025 wonubby— All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

taglist: @httpskyuko @dahliadaenerys @cherrii-11 @trishiepo0 @shewki @violetraccoon-4 @2elusional @jealousmartini @hhyukasworld @d4rlinxs @stinkinstuffle @peachesvault @onlyisaa @milky2-0 @rickydickydoodahgrimes73 @sirenitym @lillyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @ita606 @k0z3me @d4nyjlk

[crunchystarz]

TWST SELF-AWARE AU —series

overblot boys x gn! reader, prologue ,CHAP1 [you are here]

Cw- obsessive behavior, stalking(Idia is being desperate and a little shit),reader feeling like they're being watched....they are.

Summary: You got a new game and have been playing it quite a bit, yet it feels like since then your casual college life has been a little off putting but you can't explain why.

Word count: 2003

A/N: this was supposed to be posted yesterday gah and it's a bit shorter than I'd like but it's wtv

CHAPTER ONE —

Imagine watching your current understanding of reality slip through your fingers like grains of sand. Everything you’ve ever known, your memories, your feelings, your identity, nothing more than pre-written scripts and strings of code. Every connection you've made, every triumph and heartbreak, is fabricated. Not real. Never real. Just fantasy, coded illusions.

A sick, disconcerting reality to accept, isn’t it? That you are not a real person.

So what are you? What is your purpose? What were you made for? That was the thought running through these men's minds at the moment.. They all shared the same despair and loss of feeling, if you could even call it feeling. There was one thing they could all agree on: The player.

Once they found out Ramshackle’s peculiar Perfect was more than them. More than code. Yuu was real. Not exactly, Yuu was a face for something more. Behind the powerless human from another world was you. The only thing real, the only thing genuine. They became obsessed with that; they became obsessed with you exactly and worshipped you even.

Each one of them fought for your attention. They wanted to be your favorite, had to be your favorite. They were going to make sure of it, no matter what the cost. They would make you love them.

You didn't get out often, so it was nice that a friend of yours invited you out. You wouldn't consider yourself extremely introverted, but you're definitely not an extrovert. You enjoyed your peace, but it was nice to be around friends here and there. You don't have many, so you were actually quite excited to get out of the house.

You scramble around to find your keys and your wallet. You had seemed to be misplacing your items as if late.. You weren't normally so forgetful; maybe it was stress causing you to forget where you put your things? Frustrated, you flopped on your back on your bed.

A ping from your phone makes your head perk up. You lazily rolled over to grab it. Sitting up, you look down at your notifications. A frown spread across your face. Of course. First, you can't find your things then you get cancelled at the last minute? Your friend wasn't known to just bail on people either; something must have happened. The universe must have a grudge on you, huh? You were really looking forward to getting out.

Another notification popped up across your screen. “Your LP is full.” Ah right twisted wonderland was a game you had recently really gotten into. Might as well play since you're not going out anyway. Your finger hovered over the game icon, its familiar logo glowing warmly on the screen, ‘Twisted Wonderland’, A comfort, a constant. You tapped it. The screen lit up, and that now familiar jingle played, looping over and over, welcoming you back.

You get into your usual rhythm of the game. Humming to yourself as the familiarity brought you peace. However after a while, you start to feel odd. It's a weird feeling that makes your skin crawl. You don't know why the sudden wave of paranoia hit you. Uncomfortable is the only way to describe the feeling. You look around your room. It had gotten dark out by now, and your lights were off. The only thing allowing you to see was the gentle moon glow.

It was odd. It felt as if you were being watched. You don't know why that thought suddenly implanted itself in your head. It sent shivers down your spine. It was so weird, you couldn't explain it, but something in your head was screaming at you that someone, something was watching you.

Your breath hitched. You put your phone down slowly, the game still running in the background. But you couldn’t focus on it anymore. That sensation hadn’t gone away. You were just being paranoid. You lived alone in your apartment. This uneasy feeling made your stomach sick. Was the stress getting that bad you were getting paranoid again.

You glanced back at the screen. One of the boys was on it. Riddle. It was just him the screen black and his text box left blank. It felt as if his gray eyes were staring directly. You furrowed your brows. There was nothing else just the 2D model staring at you.

“Nope,” you whispered. “Game's glitched. I’m tired. It’s just a glitch.” Your game is glitched, and you're just paranoid from the lack of sleep and stress of work. Yup, that was it. Staying home was a good idea if you were going to act strange the whole time. Riddle is not looking at you, he can't look at you [name] go to bed, you tell yourself. Nothing to overthink.

Closing out the app, you roll over on your back and sigh. Your tongue poked at your cheek. You need to go to sleep. School and work have been eating you up lately. Something had to be wrong with you. Sleep deprivation, overworing, caffeine withdrawal. Something. That was the logical explanation.

You don't need to get worked up over something so small. Just rest you convince yourself. You feel your eyelids get heavier as you start to drift off.

You wake up to the sound of your notifications blowing up. Confused, as your messages were usually dry. Sleepily, you grab your phone expecting it to be your friend or maybe one of your family members. No, it's from an unknown number. Your blood runs cold upon reading the messages. What the hell?

[Unknown]: heyyyy [name]-chan~

[Unknown]: you were going to go out today and you looked so cute!

[Unknown]; Too cute for other people couldn't let you leave looking like that>:]

[Unknown]: the others were so bummed you barely played not me though I got access to you whenever I want

[Unknown]: don't tell them tho lolz!!

[Unknown] You know you're rlly cute when you sleep btw<3

Your stomach dropped. Your screen lit up again. Dread weaseling its way into your skin. Unease was an understatement of what you were feeling right now. Just who is this? Was this some unfunny joke your friend was pulling? You wished it were that simple.

[Unknown]: You shouldn't ignore us, though. It hurts our feelings.

[Unknown]: I know you're reading theseeee

You didn't respond. You couldn’t. Your fingers hovered above the screen, trembling. ,Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen profile picture. No number. Just Unknown. You tapped to block the sender. Nothing happened. Tapped again.

Still nothing.

Then another ping.

[Unknown]: blocking me already? :( ur no fun!!!

You sucked in a sharp breath and stood, your legs unsteady. Panic churned in your chest. You pulled your knees against your chest. Biting your lip, you clumsily type a reply.

[You]: Who are you?!?

The reply dots appear and reappear. What was going on? What did you do to deserve a stalker? Too many thoughts ran through your head. You collapse on your bed. The soft blue light from your screen illuminated your face. Finally, you get a text back.

[Unknown]: that's for you to find out!! If you do, you'd have to keep it a secret ;]

[You]: Please just leave me alone.

[Unknown]: No can do [name]-chan :<

[Unknown]: ah gtg lil bros calling fun talking with ya!!!

You watch as the blank icons' green light turns gray, signifying they are no longer online. You stare at your phone screen for a few minutes. You feel tears prick the brim of your eyes. This was a sick, sick joke. Had to be a prank. You needed to calm down. Maybe you should call the police? Would this be enough to be considered harassment?

You huffed. You couldn't sleep now, not with the thought of someone stalking you. Who would want to stalk you anyway? You're a broke college student just barely getting by with the job you have at the local cafe. You don't have much interesting going on with your life, so why you?

Another text. You fearfully opened the message. You saw the contact name and sighed out of relief. It was your friend—wait, their message didn't make any sense. They were wondering why you didn't show up, but they cancelled on you. Looking through your messages, you couldn't find any proof of the conversation you had prior. You know you didn't make it up...

Your face turned up. Today had to be a bad dream. What exactly was going on? You squirmed out of bed, leaving your phone on your bed. Just being near it made you uncomfortable. Slipping into the living room.

You rubbed your arms as a cold chill settled over you, despite the room being warm. Everything felt off. Like your world was tilted slightly on its axis, and no one had noticed but you. You turned on the light in the living room, needing something to ground you. The warm glow helped… a little. But that crawling feeling remained. You don't even remember falling asleep at your kitchen island.

—

There Idia goes running his mouth again now Leona and Vil are on his ass. His yellow eyes shifted, avoiding the two figures' gazes. Leona grabbed the collar of his hoodie aggressively. “Listen, you decided to run your mouth earlier,” Leona growled, his voice low and dangerous, “now elaborate before I turn your face into sand.” The lion beast man spat. Vil crossed his arms and glared.

Idia put his arms up in surrender. He knew they were going to find out eventually that they were as obsessive as he was. Still, it was annoying; it was a secret he wanted to keep to himself a bit longer. flFinding out he could use magic to bypass the code just enough to have access to your phone.

“I just talked to em a bit, no biggie-” Idia yelped, trying to push Leona off him even if it was clear who was stronger. Vil huffed and moved closer shoving Leona causing him to growl under his breath, tail flicking in annoyance.

“You're telling me you have contact outside of our plane and you didn't tell any of us. Do you know how important that is, numbskull!" The pomefiore housewarden snapped.

“Okay okay okay!! Chill!” Idia squawked, ducking his head down, hair flaring pink for a moment before settling back into its usual blue flame. “It's not like I didn't plan to tell you guys! I was just... testing the connection! Beta access! You know, like a soft launch??”

Leona scoffed, tossing him back with a shove. “Dont sugar coat nothin we ain't stupid you were just getting greedy.” Idia couldn't deny he was greedy. He wanted you for himself. How could he not be greedy he was closer to you than anyone else. He wasn't going to share the information originally, he was going to claw into that closeness only you and he had. Yet he was cocky and ended up running his mouth when he ran into the duo. He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“You aren't thinking logically you radish, if you have direct access to the entirety of their devices who knows if that's the limit we can go think about it” Leona said tapping a finger against dia's forehead. A smirk played on his lips. “If we can build that gap with simple magic don't ya think we could probably weasel our way into their world " He explained further.

"in your hypothetical where any of what you're talking about is correct we would need immense magical power, much more than either one of us could produce on our own" Vil but in. His eyes scanned Leona. Vil knew Leona was a genius. It was built into him he knew that he was always going to be one of the smartest characters in this world. Yet he held his doubts about this. It sounds too far fetched. How would they even go about this?

"Never said it would be easy at all it sounds simple on bluepaler you don't think I havent thought about how much magic that would take been thinking about this for awhile actually but this new information the otaku gave us makes me think we really have a chance...won't like it but I think I'd we get that lizards help" the savanaclaw housewarden said crossing his arms before yawning.

" it's late 'm going to bed you two should do the same ,Vil get the others gathered sometime tomorrow " Leona said flicking is wrist before walking off suddenly. Vil and Idia both exchanged glances, the shift of his attention gave them whiplash.

Idia mumbled under his breath something about how annoying Leona was, Vil couldn't quite catch what he had said. With a sigh Vil turned on his heel. "I shall be taking my leave now, no more funny business until tomorrow we shall discuss your little communication with the Perfect then. " He spoke before walking the same direction Leona had gone.

Oh how Idia hated sharing with six other guys, it was such a pain why couldn't he just have you for himself...

Tag list

@sirairi

@3sryn

@ihatemyselffromthestart-blog

[feelo-fick]

I. I. IM. I. HELLO?????????? HELLO. EXCUSE ME. HOLY SHIT. WHAT THE FUCK. (<- POSITIVE)

oh yeah addendum to my tags in that poll, it makes more sense if i put it this way : he'd run that shit like the navy at FIRST, and be super wound up about keeping everything in check, but as his sanity starts slipping his plans do as well. you know when a deadline gets closer and closer and you start frantically using whatever the first thing you think of is, and then in hindsight youre like "why did i make that decision??" thats what i feel like it is. like... panic/anxiety clouds the mind and makes you do stupid things. same thing with overconfidence. euphoria. lust. desperation. et cetera. decisions made in a short time limit/relying on instinct and feeling are often not the best

[really-fanny-longbottom]

okay sooooo

i had this little thought right

okay so maybe like reader has been a part of the inner circle for a looooong time like since the batboys were kids and they've all been friends forever, naturaly azriel has been in love with her since then, and a few years ago he realised they were mates (she doesn't know)

this one time she walks into the townhouse in just a bra and trousers, casually just walking in drinking coffee while the rhys and cass are just flabbergasted (cass being cass is eyeing the goods real hard because shes always been hot and he knows it) rhys is smirking and all (hes no less honestly)

then az walks in and hes just like what the fuck, she tries to explain smth happened to her shirt on the way and hes just grumbling and takes off his own shirt and is like put this own (cass is naturally making comments that make az's blood boil)

then you can choose where that goes from there

lmfaoooo im so sorry i couldn't get this idea out of my head

its okayyyy if you can't write it!!!

hi! sorry it took me so long to post but i've been really busy with university and only now have i had some free time.

anyway, here it is! thank you so much for this request, i loved writing it!

i hope you like it! 🫶🏻

my hero

azriel x reader | a small but very happy incident. words: 2.2k

masterlist

tick 

tack

tick 

tack 

"ugh," a heavy groan escaped your lips at the sound of the clock. you seated slightly, your head pounding without mercy. 

as you looked at the window, your eyes fought against the early sunlight, before adjusting and finally allowing you to fully open them.

it took you a few seconds to remember your surroundings, and to be honest, to remember anything. 

the confusion didn't last long when all the memories from last night hit you all at once. 

you had gone out for the night with morrigan. you went to rita's for a girls night.

a night with a lot of drinking and dancing and singing and drinking again — mysterious headache solved.

you looked down on you, seeing the shiny short black dress you had chosen for last night specifically. 

you passed your hands through your messy hair and took a glance at your bedroom, absorbing the chaos that a very drunk you had caused.

how could just a person cause such a mess?

tick 

tack

tick

tack

"ugh!" a loud annoyed groan left your lips again

at the sound of the clock that kept attacking your brain. 

before you could think twice, you turned and reached out to punch the clock, causing it to fall to the ground.

you lowered yourself on the bed sheets with an arm over your head.

this was going to be a very long day.

and that's when it you.

your eyes and two seconds later, your legs were fighting against the bed sheets. 

after losing that battle, you ended up falling to the ground with a loud noise. 

a small 'huff' came out of your mouth before getting up and running to the clock as quickly as possible to check the time. 

10:07 am

"oh, shit."

you were late for your internship at the clinic.

"oh, shit."

you quickly begin to look for clean clothes at the same time you try to get rid of your dress. 

you manage to find something that looked relatively clean and put it on, your heart racing as you tried to get your hair to not look like a complete mess.

when you finished putting your hair in a more presentable state, you hurried to put on your shoes, but when you noticed the time again, you only managed to put on a sock before grabbing the first pair of shoes in sight and running out of your room. 

as you run for the stairs, you didn't have time to react before a body collided with yours and spilled coffee all over your t-shirt.

the hot contents against your skin forced you to let out a small scream and dropped the shoes to the floor as you struggled to pull the fabric of your t-shirt away from your body. 

"shit, shit, shit!" you cursed at the same time you blew on your t-shirt.

great, as if your day wasn't already going badly. 

"sorry," a small voice said.

you met your attacker's gaze as you looked up to see a beautiful female with green eyes and brown hair — morrigan's friend. 

right, you had forgotten that she had come home with the two of you — with mor. 

the female looked mortified as you stared at her annoyed. when you saw her opening her mouth to say something, you quickly stopped her.

"don't," you raised your hand at her, you didn't have time for this, "just. . .just go."

you pointed at morrigan's bedroom, whose door was slightly open. the female followed your direction, shrinking a little as she passed through you.

"idiot!" you cursed quietly. 

you looked at your bedroom and considered your options: the chances that you may find a new clean t-shirt in the middle of that mess, were very low and you were already late.

so you gave up and made your way down the stairs, starting to unbutton your shirt before completely taking it off, leaving you in your black lacy bra, and entering the kitchen.

rhysand and cassian who had been enjoying a late breakfast found themselves speechless upon your entrance. 

their gazes followed you as you moved to the sink and started working on removing the stain.

the males shared a gaze between them, identical smirks forming on both of their faces.

"good morning, y/n." rhysand greeted you as he took a sip of his tea cup.

you jumped startled, your eyes found theirs immediately, "gods, i didn't see you there."

rhysand's smirk grew wider. "oh, we know."

"did you get mugged?" cassian asked as he took in your figure.

you were barefoot with only one sock and shirtless.

"what?" you asked confused. 

cassian's eyes roam over your body.

"oh, no, morrigan's friend though it was a good idea to spill her coffee all over me. freaking idiot," you murmured the last part, still focused on the task in hand.

cassian let out a snort "well, i'll make sure to thank her personally for this amazing view."

you rolled your eyes at his comment "oh, shut up, cassian. we grew up together, we've all seen each other naked at one point."

rhys smirked and grew before adding "sure, but we were either kids or teenagers at those times." 

cassian glanced at his brother, amusement all over his features "maybe we should go back to those times."

with another roll of your eyes, you tried to suppress a smile at your friend's comment while trying to get rid of the stain.

as on cue, the shadowsinger entered the kitchen to join his brothers for breakfast.

instead, he was surprised with a view of you shirtless — his shirtless mate.

the very reason, rhys and cassian had begun to tease you in the first place. 

what made this whole situation much funnier — the fact that you weren't aware of this detail. 

and things had just become a lot more interesting now with azriel in the room. 

his eyes widened at the sight of you but when he turned to find his brothers, his eyes darkened and a low growl was released.

"nice of you to join us, brother," cassian said casually as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

he can practically feel the heat coming off of azriel, like smoke coming out of his ears.

"what's wrong, az?" rhys asked him, knowing exactly what was going on but seeing azriel riled up was too funny to miss it.

at the sound of their voices, you looked up and your eyes found a pair of hazel ones.

"oh, hi, azriel." you greeted him with your sweet smile — the one he liked so much.

the shadowsinger found himself melting at your words, at the way you said his name. 

his eyes instantly softed, a small blush coming to his cheeks and a goofy smile on his lips, "h-hi, y/n." 

you gave him a warm smile before going back to your task.

azriel regained his composure at the sound of his brothers' muffled laughter. 

he sighed and rolled his eyes at their behavior, he hadn't catched a break from them since he revealed the mating bond on one drunken night.

cassian elbowed rhys gently in the ribs to get his attention, when his eyes found his, the general gestured with his head to the shadowsinger. 

"hey, az" cassian tried to contain his urge to laugh, he knew what was about to happen. 

"what?" azriel managed to say, his eyes still on your figure.

"we were just talking. . ." cassian started, his voice teasing "about going back to those times when we were teenagers." 

azriel face scrunched in confusion, he shot his brother a look. 

"you know," cassian continued, his peripheral vision caught rhys trying to control himself  "those times where we didn't care about being naked in front of each other." 

both rhys and cassian snorted at the sight of azriel's face turning red.

"what?!" the male let out a little too loud then he had intended.

rhys proceeded, "yeah, you know. when we didn't care so much about formalities. don't you agree, y/n?" 

you rolled your eyes again at rhys comment, "i think you two have too much free time" you chuckled, "cauldron has mercy on the poor females that will ended up as your mates."

"hey!" both cassian and rhys protested.

azriel smiled at your comment, but it fell when he observed both of his brothers eyes roaming over your body, grins splattered on their features.

azriel moved to the edge of the table, placing his hands on the surface of it before giving them a glare and clenching his jaw.

"stop looking at her like that before i break your faces" he threatened through gritted teeth. 

cassian and rhys were quick to lift their arms in surrender, both muttering a small "yes, sir." 

azriel rolled his eyes in annoyance. his attention was caught when he heard you cursed quietly. 

he sent one last warning look to the two males before moving to stand behind you.

he was so close, that all it took was another step of his for your back to be pressed against his chest.

azriel would love to know the feeling of that sensation, but he remained where he was.

he peeked through your shoulder and saw that you couldn't get rid of the annoying coffee stain. 

"gods, madja is going to kill me for being late." 

without a second thought, azriel took a step back.

"here," he told you.

you turned to find him taking off his own shirt.

your eyes roamed his body — his sun-kissed skin, his muscles, his illyrian tattoos. 

you loved those tattoos. 

"put it on," he extended his hand to you, holding out his shirt.

"oh, that's not necessary, az. i-"

"it's okay, y/n. i- i want you too. by the way, why don't you go get your shoes and i'll take you to the clinic? it's quicker that way and you don't have to walk." 

your face softened, "really? you would do that?" 

the corner of his lips lifted for a small smile, only you to make him feel this way.

"of course." 

you grabbed his shirt, "ugh, thank you, az."

you put it on and azriel tried to not let the sight of your small feature into his too big of a shirt to affect him, but he failed when his heart skipped a beat.

you moved forward and grabbed his cheeks, kissing him on the left one.

caught off guard, azriel tried to hide the fact that his skin had heated up under your touch. 

a new blush came to decorate his cheeks. 

"hm. . .i-" the male couldn't find his words with the sound of his heart roaming in his ears. 

"you're my hero, az" you gave a big smile before making your way to the stairs to collect your shoes. 

azriel stood there in the middle of the kitchen with a hand making it's way to his face to touch the place you kissed him.

cassian and rhys burst out laughing, not being able to remain composed of their brother in love. 

cassian got up from his seat and walked towards his brother, clasping a hand on his back.

"behold of the big bad scary shadow-," cassian leaned over in laughter, "shadowsinger" he managed to complete. 

rhys appeared on his other side, "oh, brother. only if your enemies could see you now, they would think how big of a fool they are."  

azriel clenched his jaw again, and when he turned to answer them, he was stopped by a honey-sweet voice.

"i'm ready," you told him from the entrance.

once again, the shadowsinger was left completely disarmed.

a goofy smile reappeared on his face. 

he didn't even spare a glance at his brothers before making his way to you, "let's go then."

cassian and rhys were left in the kitchen laughing to themselves.

•••

the trip to the clinic was quick.

azriel landed softly on the ground, keeping a hand on your waist and another on your back to make sure you were stable.

you took a step forward before turning to him.

"thank you again, az. you literally just saved my morning." 

and there it was that goofy smile again.

"oh, it's nothing really. my pleasure." 

you let out a small giggle. you reached forward, surrounding his neck with one of your arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek again.

azriel's heart raced and his voice caught in his throat. 

you took a step back "you're my hero, azriel. what would i do without you?" 

you caressed his cheek with the back of your hand before giving him one last smile and moving towards the clinic.

"hm, i-" was all the male managed to say while watching you entering the clinic with his shirt.

he watched as you grabbed the door, and turned to him to wave goodbye. 

azriel returned the gesture. it was at that moment that he realized how much power you had over him.

he didn't push away that feeling, in fact he embraced it.

it was about time to let the walls he had built so long ago disappear. 

and you were the right person for that.

azriel made a decision at that moment.

at the end of the day, he would come pick you up and ask you out on a date.

he would buy you flowers, tell you how he felt and take you to dinner.

he just hoped you felt the same way.

and that you said yes.

a/n: thank you for reading!

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @littlelou22 @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @meul-a @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @avajustreads @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @agirlwithwifiandalaptop @987coley

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because i couldn't find your blog.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[pushingdaisies1]

Its never too late baby . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Mutant Reader >_<

(✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> You were always someone who utilized your strengths. Physical and mental, you were a jack of all trades. You were a true hero to the students you taught within the school. Amongst the other X-men, you would always be one of them. But you had this little tick, that always annoyed Logan no doubt. You were a secretive person, too secretive for even his "standards." For others, you were a pillar of nurture and guidance. He saw your well-meaning nature from miles away. It was almost sickening to him how you would stretch your capabilities out to no end. He would never deny that he could be selfish. Sometimes it's more worth it to save your spine, than risk it for someone else. Though with the problems being thrown the team's way as of recent, he always saw you spinning your wheels. You wouldn't reason with him even when he of all people would lend you a shoulder to cry on. Even the students at the school could see it. With their childish snickers and big-eyed looks at your comfortable banter with Mr. Howlett whenever he helped with class. You were in love with the Wolverine. Again, out of all the Canadians - him? It wasn't something like a schoolgirl crush. It was an infatuation sort of deal. You burned for him mind body and soul. You would pretty much follow this scoundrel to the ends of the earth, even the end of your life if prompted. Which causes something to break between you two after you risk your livelihood for your family. The people that made up your heart, including Logan.

(✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> hi party people!! I saw so much of the sweet reception for my first ever logan piece , so tysm!! Genuinely from the bottom of my heart the love means so much. As I’m currently going through my x-men marathon time if you will , I’ve had this idea brewing for a while. Thankfully the resurgence of logan content has given me the push needed to formulate this yk! This isn’t a part two to my previous logan post. That will be coming very shortly, but this is its own thing. Timeline wise... erm.... idrk a good place to put this SIGH. I'm thinking like in between x2 and the last stand. also one last final note , the title I took from Chemtrails over the country club. specifically the one lyric - "it's never too late baby so don't give up." felt like an appropriate whimsy title, nd I have been hearing that song everywhere lolz. Anyways, toodles!!! ᐢᗜᐢ (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Descriptions of blood and graphic injury , they/them pronouns for reader !! , mentions of major character deal , Logan cares too much ... which could mean nothing , ur comatose for like the good first chunk of this , Jean and u have LORE!!!!! (not rlly but u and her have backstory beefers/her "passing" affect reader 100%) , mourning/grief, And that's on having no healing powers!! Buh-dun-csh!!

Your fall from grace was quick on the battlefield. This was supposed to just be any regular mission. You were using it as a way to clear your head after all. But you took a leap too far and now here you were, plummeting. The issue at hand was apprehended, sure. But you didn't leave the fight unscathed. Your vision grew too spotty for you to even make out your surroundings. Your hearing too even started to fog. Looking down, somehow or some way a large-sized piece of shrapnel metal had made it into your torso. Right in the sweet spot that was not in the lungs. Your legs began to wobble, losing your footing slowly but surely. You didn't realize your body was falling to the ground. The warm feeling rushing through you was the blood exiting from your hefty wound. It was ironic the last thing your eyes met before collapsing. Logan turned back around immediately once he noticed you weren't clamoring to the jet. His heart sunk to his stomach as he immediately sprung over to you. By the time your head had smacked against the ground, you went out. Your fingertips began to buzz, your fatigue lifting all of a sudden. All of the hurt and weight on your shoulders lifted? You felt freer than before, with a piece of debree stuck inside of your body no more. Even if some people regarded mutants as the next step in human evolution, a majority were still stuck with fleshy bodies. If only you were made out of steel. In this momentary unconsciousness, you thought about everything that went wrong. Your existence as a whole, joining the school. Moving up from student to teacher at Professor Xavier's school, like Scott and Ororo you were one of the first. Regarded as maybe one of the most useful of the bunch. No one could ever compete with Storm, the literal incarnate of a goddess. You thought of her as your eyes closed, embraced with the warm memories of your early days within the school.

The professor was never one to play favorites among his students. But when he searched you out and arrived with a less conniving Magneto at your door, it was clear you were special to him and his cause. From that day forward you were seen as a pillar of hope to a lot of the students. To some, you were like a mother, to others a guardian who would save them no matter the risk. To Logan Howlett - "The Wolverine", you were a coward. A coward that he admired. A coward he respected due to the ways you handled... stress in the simplest of terms. From the day he met you, he wandered around the halls of the mansion bewildered and confused. Something about you stuck out. He would've done something with this urge sooner if his eyes weren't honed in on another.

From day one you were not surprised how fast he fell and yearned for Jean. The woman you saw as your confidant, your best friend, she was magnificent. Smart and poised all in one with a strong set of mutant abilities. She was on the same power level as the professor, which made sense for their connection.

For living in Jean's shadow, you didn’t hate it. You were her right-hand man. Your balance was comforting, she was like your sister. The professor in small quiet moments of honesty to you liked to compare you to him and Magnus. When times were simpler they weren’t at opposing ends of the mutant kind spectrum. Yours and Jean's dynamic made you feel at ease with yourself. How could you worry? Your identity became a part of hers a long time ago. Logan saw more to that with you. Sure you could nag a lot of the time, and you always barked up his tree whenever he found ways to smoke on school grounds. But you just had this pull for him. He'd always find his way to see you first whenever entering a room. His brash and gritty attitude always got all mushy around you. He over time grew a lot more fond of the smallest details when it came to you. He was an amnesiac, his past only bits and pieces. But you made him feel grounded. You cherished his growth in ways no one else had. You were the reason why he was so drawn to the "now" of life. He needed that in times like this. He couldn't keep up for long after the realization that Jean was gone finally sunk in. Drowning at his one-sided attraction, the longing that he could've done more, you pulled him right out from that rut. Thank god that the two of you combined had horrible sleep schedules. His nightmares still stirred while you were suddenly afflicted with these with the memories of being on that jet when it wouldn't take off. That same pain rocketed through you every night as you were haunted by the sight of Jean finally swept into the oncoming flood. The feeling of grief ricocheted throughout the entire school. But you found your way to stay afloat. It was Logan, which you never thought of yourself admitting. But truth be told it was him. He was the most anchoring thing around you. Ororo distanced herself for the first month, while Scott cracked under the pressure of grief. Late nights dashing around the campus halls to the kitchen, out to the court where you two just talked. You had never seen him talk so much until you two became each other's support. It made you feel better seeing him smile more. Especially when it was at you. Again, you would never utter that truth EVER. At least that's what you thought. But his smile was a nice reminder of all of the light he held inside of him. As much as he despised ... everything, he was still so nurturing in his own ways. Nightmares were an excuse for him to be next to you. Nightmares were his excuse to hold you tight to his chest. The pain of loss was a collective "excuse" between the two of you to just .. be close.

Soon though, this ideal predicament between you both started to crack. Because even though she was dead, you still knew you would always be inferior. It may be all in your head but the hate kept you driven. It kept you driven but also mad. Small things would set you off soon enough. You knew deep down whenever he'd look into your eyes, it was a nice reminder of Jean. Even with how much he denied it when you came to him in tears, your bitter pain and grief clouded your judgment.

Logan saw that even with his help you were still hurting. He didn't want to get involved in it entirely as some of it was your own demon. But he saw how bad your spiraling was and still wouldn't accept his help. Not even from Ororo or Scott, not even the professor. Neither of you would admit who started the argument. It was late, and you were tired from pushing yourself to grade papers. Logan couldn't sleep and wandered his way to your classroom of course. The conversation was fine until he mentioned the problem. Your problem which you didn't want to deal with right now. As you were only running on a few hours of sleep. But even with Logan's usual "take and give no fucks" attitude, he knew he needed to push. You were slowly shutting yourself off this time, and he didn't expect himself to be a part of that mix. It was all a misunderstanding, but the two of you were angry and fire was thrown.

Your shared feelings were complicated. This whole ordeal with him brought out the "worst parts" of your love for him. He too was dealing with his internal dilemma. How could he move on from Jean and you were still latched onto the idea of her? It was a stupid question that was brought up in a Logan way, which of course caused the spat to escalate. His poor mistake was what he shouted. Already with the fear of waking one or even all of the students, you hated what he even dared to utter. "We're friends, you need to calm down about this whole obsession thing bub!" Originally you were thinking of just heading to bed. You were too tired to continue on with this constant bickering. But that's when you exploded on him. You regretted every last word you said to his face. Because it was you speaking your honest truth. About what you felt for him, about your hurt and your pain. How Jean was practically your lifeline. Losing her was like losing a piece of yourself. Especially since you rubbed it in about the kiss he and her shared. That you had seen and that made you sick to your stomach. A couple hours later she was dead. Your heightened emotions make you feel almost dizzy. The more you talked the more you realized his expressions distinct shift. As he was reaching out for you, you immediately swatted his arm askew. He didn't realize he hated to see you cry as much as he did until now. With broken sobs, you ran out of your classroom. The papers once stacked neatly were now laid messily all over your desk. You made sure to keep quiet. What broke your heart even more was a half-awake Rogue you ran into. She looked even more awake seeing your distraught state. Her feet tip-toed against the wooden floors of the hall before she looked at you. A big reason you and Logan were so close too, was because of Rogue. She was a good kid, he always rubbed off on her. He told you everything about how he and Rogue met. You were so enamored hearing him recount even the foggiest of memories. It could even be arguments with Scott he had, you'd just sit there with wide eyes as you listened. His word became your gospel. It warmed you to your core hearing him almost sound like a dad. He had looked out for her from the beginning. You always tried to do the same even when he left for Alklai Lake for answers.

It was so silly when she had practically pushed you and Logan to talk. She was just a kid and you two took up the almost suto role of her protectors. Friend or parent, she too found two trusted people to confide in. So you immediately went into "teacher mode" as soon as she saw you with watery eyes. She looked puzzled when her face met yours. You calmed down her storm of questions as she sputtered on and on. What's wrong? , is something happening? Are you okay? The hug you shared was one of the last meaningful hugs you had with another living being. You practically cradled her in your arms as you helped her calm down. She looked up at you, her larger brown eyes almost like the ones of a puppy. "Please don't be lying to me... y'know ah don't like liars." She whispered softly, her bubbly southern accent quiet. Your heart broke into a couple more pieces as you lied through your teeth. With a content nod, you bidded her a goodnight. Turning back to your room to drown your sorrow in god knows what. It had only been a good couple of months after Jeans' death that a mission arose. The X-men were laying low after everything at the base. For the school's and students' sake. But it was always on time when something bad happened for the team to fix. Old enemies came a-knocking and this time it wasn't Magneto. It was all supposed to be an in-and-out operation. You immediately clamored to get your hands dirty once again. You and Logan hadn't been talking for the last couple of days. Not even meeting in the dead of night to speak to another. You longed to hear about his afternoons subbing with Storm. This was your chance to regain some well-needed level-headedness. The thrill of doing what's right for a better tomorrow always made you feel better The mission even got Scott to come out of his puddle of mourning. Making you feel even better seeing your good friend so triumphant as he quickly clamored for his uniform. You and Logan didn't even brush shoulders as Storm and Scott dashed off to prepare the jet for takeoff. Everything should have gone fine. You should have all made it out alive. Every single one of you, that's what you had planned. Your lapse in judgment will always be your curse. Because now here you were, in the lap of the man that made your stomach churn. That made you feel LIKE that silly schoolgirl feeling you despised. Snapping back to reality, you realize where you are currently laid. Logan's eyes eased from his previous panicked look of fear as he saw you conscious. You were still bleeding but it seems that with quick medical attention either one of them got it to lessen. Your heart raced as you felt the warmness of his hands as they pressed against your cheeks. "Come on, there you go. Just focus on me." He cooed to your heaving chest. In the far back of the jet, you couldn't see Ororo or Scott. What you could see though was the remnants of blood on Logan's suit. He must have carried you off of the rubble and into the X-jet. Your smile was nothing compared to the horrid wince that left you. Finally, after this long moment of ease, the pain set in.

Going down to hold your gut, you shuddered as your vision all of a sudden wavered. You took in a sharp breath as finally, you noticed how in bad shape you were. Red filled your palm as you shuddered. Thankfully Logan noticed you and your shaky breath and immediately gripped your hand. Even in this state, you were currently in, you would always be able to focus on him. "I know, I know it's scary. You got hit pretty bad, but it's okay. Just focus on me and you'll be okay? I have you." He encouraged softly with that comforting rasp in his throat. His eyes were shaken and his lip was firm. Though his mood lightened somewhat because at least now you were awake.

You tried to speak but you were so weak. That same fatigue stung you as you stumbled over your words. He cradled you in his arms as he kept his eyes only on you. Your weary mind still around belittling you, another one of your eerily humane curses. He saw your chest quicken and lip quiver as your eyes began to lull, you were struggling. "Hey .. don't strain yourself - what is it?" He too began to worry as you saw his vulnerability bloom. Finally your chest steady as you took in one big breath of air. You let out the one thing keeping you from slipping back into rest in one huff. "Don't let me die, asshole." The asshole part came out more garbled from you after you coughed out your last words. Your last words before your eyes fell closed. For some reason, your hearing stayed for just a while longer. In and out, you could hear him cursing under his breath. The last thing you hear is Logan's panicked shouting at Scott, "Can this hunk of metal go any faster?!"

Finally, after so much pain, there was quiet. Peace and quiet after your constant heartache. You felt freed from the chains of reality. From birth to now, now seemed like your death. You left your current reality with a bitter-sweet smile as you felt consciousness swarm over you.

You couldn't feel how long you were out. Oh, but Logan could. Six weeks you lay in the infirmary. With some sort of miracle and hope, Ororo was barely able to stabilize you. The team rushed back into the mansion in panic as your wounds were assessed. But no, you couldn't feel the panic that coursed through your loved ones as you lay so peacefully. You didn't know your heart rate was being tracked. You were stable but anyone could guess it'd take you a while to re-reach consciousness. That your accident broke the barely well Scott Summers. But most of all it affected Logan to the core. He felt his world shake under him as he finally realized what had just happened. Something snapped in a man so stuck in his ways. Those words you said to him before you went back down. They were short but in the moment meant so much. Not to mention the fact that even Logan, so careless and free, was guilty. Every time he came back just to see you, he wanted to curl over and into you. Just like how he mourned Jean, he mourned you. Though .. he couldn't because you were technically still here. He may have not noticed it but everyone else could. The lack of your presence hindered him the worst. He missed the way you'd bother him out of the blue during the quiet time around the school. He missed you telling him about your life. He missed the shitty snort you did when you laughed too hard at one of his bad jokes. He missed seeing you happy. He missed seeing you move around. Pestering students for turning in assignments late or cheating. He missed the feel of your lips against his forehead when his nightmares of Jean flared up. He missed the way you looked at him. The way you saw him not only as a man but as himself. He didn't know how to admit it but he.. missed you. He missed you so bad and it was eating away at him. He spent hours out of his day visiting you. Like what you two always did when you were alone, he talked. About his day, what he ate, and even the lessons he overheard. The school got even quieter with you gone and he hated it. He felt bitter and broken, he didn't want to feel like that. He especially missed the way he felt with you. Almost like being on cloud nine. He finally understood the pain you felt when Jean died. This time on a more intimate level than he'd like to admit. He felt like the moon was ripped away from him after the sun. Now he was just the lonely tide, washing away against the shore until you returned. Ororo did all she could to help. All she could do was maintain your physical well-being as your body healed with rest. Logan hated the wait. The time you spent not walking around the halls of the school was maybe one of the worst times in his life. Since it hit him so deep on a real level. In this array of pain and even more guilt, he felt something dawn on him as you were still comatose. He was in love with you, Logan was in love with you. He felt like an idiot but the realization would always stay true. No matter how stupid he felt. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew. In the middle of his thought process, he heard the swift slide open of the infirmary doors.

Right now he was standing over you. The one thing that kept his spirits high about your recovery was the gentle rise and lower of your chest. He didn't have to look behind him to know it was Storm. She too had taken her time checking in on your unconscious form. He sighed as she walked up right beside him. She gently cupped the examination table where your body would lay. She looked down at her hands with a bitter-sweet smile on her lips. She looked over to Logan, who was at a pause with himself. She decided to finally break the long silence. "You know they'll be fine, right?" She hummed as she glanced up to look over you. He chuckled softly as his brow pinched. His chuckle came out more like a rugged scoff. "I know, this just feels weird." He sucked in a breath of stale air. "It was funny the first night you arrived at the mansion.." Storm drew up a memory of that fateful night. "As soon as I and Scott brought you in, they immediately volunteered to help Jean down here with your examination. They were always enamored with your set of abilities. You were one of a kind to them especially, I suppose." Now his hands gripped into the sides of the examination table. He looked down, in pity of you and himself. How could he be so blind? Storm butted in once more as she noticed his demeanor shift. "All I'm saying is, they'd be happy to know how much you worried." He nodded in response, reminiscing when things were good. From your first encounter to now, his heart warmed. "I'd do it for anyone else." He gritted out as he bit back a smile. The truth was he was still in agony about Jean's loss. It felt wrong to love you as he had longed for her after all of this time. But you felt like a whole different story. He didn't have to sit in agony knowing that no matter what his love would always be with another. You always gave him the time and day, hell even down to the minute to just be honest. He needed you at his side no matter what you were to him. Maybe you were more than a friend, maybe he was crazy about you, but you understood him. In a way maybe Jean never had. Ororo knew he needed more time so she complied with the awkwardness in the air. "I'll give you some more time. Rest easy Logan, they'd want that." She insisted before making her way out of the infirmary. He immediately looked down back at you, before looking back at the monitor tracking your heart. He sighed, biting into his lip. He stuttered the only thing that had been keeping him sane since he last felt your eyes open. "Don't fail me now dimples... I need you." He gritted as his teeth were practically ground into his gums. It has become a regular part of his routine now. Once the students were back in their dorms for the night, down to the infirmary he goes. He could never be tired of seeing you at rest. Seeing you okay and not in pain. He just wished he could hear you speak. He hoped that you could hear his pleas for you to wake.

As much as he longed for you he just bided his time. Like the fool he was, like the idiot he felt like when you made him so weak. You made him feel the most human he ever could feel.

That day was supposed to be a normal day. Classes had been more and more brief. After the loss of Jean and you being "put out." But he did not expect to see what he did next. Going into the elevator to head downstairs, to of course see you as always. He was ready to talk about what you missed away and so on. His chest tightened once he saw what was right in front of him. It was you, you were walking? You were awake and on your own two feet. Your midsection was still bandaged but at least you were standing up straight. But then it finally clicked. Wait, you shouldn't even be walking around right now?!

He immediately ran to steady you once your expression went more absent. "Welcome back to the land of the living." He roughly inquired with a small, pleased grin. "I feel like shit, so don't start with me Wolvie." You gritted out with that smile that made him too feel all good on the inside. Quickly, his arms calmly wrapped around you. He longed for your embrace for too long. It wasn't like you were fighting him when he enacted this. You wrapped your arms around him too. He made sure not to squeeze too tight with your bandages and all. A gentleman must stay mindful, he could recall you poking at him as he had a beer bottle half hidden in his jacket.

Your head gently rested in the crook of his neck. That quiet he hated so much before when seeing you in the infirmary was warmer now. He liked the peace and quiet between the two of you when you were there WITH him. After some minutes passed, you met him back face to face. You eyes lingered as you watched the way he swallowed in with composure. You had longed for him to see you. Finally, all the puzzle pieces were clicking, and with your luck all at once. You knew before this would have never happened. It felt wrong and almost hurtful for you to be doing this. But go big or go home I guess. It was you who initiated it, and he gratefully complied. Still keeping you steady, once your lips met his hand immediately went to cup your cheek. In the bliss shared, all of a sudden it felt right. The tender embrace of your lips with his felt good. It was hungry and it was liberating. You could feel his heart beating out of his chest as quick gasps for air were taken. "I'm sorry." He uttered out, forehead against yours. "I know." You said with a sanguine look in your eye. "I love you." He uttered again at a rapid pace. "I know." You purred, your eyes looking back into his hazy ones. Things would always be complicated between the both of you. But deep down you had hope. Maybe not now, someday things could just be normal between you and The Wolverine. That's all you wanted and that's all you dreamed of. Yours and his timing by all means was horrible. So it wasn't surprising this delightful moment got interrupted by Scott of all people. You and Logan looked back, hands immediately darting off of one another. Time to address THAT later.

Scott's mouth fell agape as he began to regret coming down here in the first place. He readjusted his glasses with a small scowl. "Well hello to you too, and Logan." He turned his head to give him that same look. "Wanted to check on you but clearly -" He made sure to put a specific emphasis on 'clearly.' "That job has been overtaken by him.. I'll get Ororo." Before either you or Logan could interrupt him, Scott was already pressing buttons up to the main floor. Now that it was just the two of you bubbling laughs were shared. You felt finally okay. You felt like yourself after those months of nothing but remembrance. You and The Wolverine wormed back into conversation as you could finally talk BACK to him. Another thing you wouldn't ever admit was that yes, you did hear him. His gentle words would always be your favorite secret. After that display of affection though, your and Logan's bond never stayed just a little secret after that. Even after all the trial and error, and the more soon to come, you finally had another moment. Another moment that you could look at when you are older and with more grays on your head. Logan Howlett was yours, no matter how much the universe wanted to throw you around a loop. You'd always have him by your side, till the end of time. Nothing would stop you from cherishing this connection. Not even the burning phoenix crackling over the horizon. You and Logan against time baby.

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3

[bambambwi]

Valentines Day With Ji Yong!

ermm...late valentines day post

its my first time writing, hope you all enjoy !

It was Valentine’s Day and you wanted to do something special for your boyfriend, Ji Yong. But instead of spending the day out and about, you wanted to do something different this time.

You were originally planning to spend time with him at your place, but then you got an idea.

“i should bake those heart cookies with him, he's been craving those for a while now anyway..”

You immediately got up from the couch and ran into the kitchen, grabbing everything you needed to start baking—until the doorbell rang.

“Ah, that must be him!”

You opened the door to find Ji Yong standing there, holding a bouquet of pink roses and a box of your favorite chocolates. He smiled before leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

“You shouldn’t have! I feel bad—I didn’t get you anything.”

“Don’t need to, aein. I got these for you because I wanted to.” he said with a soft smile.

He made his way to the couch, setting the gifts down before following you into the kitchen, where you were busy gathering bowls.

“What’s all this about, aein?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I thought it’d be fun to bake cookies together!”

Ji Yong’s lips curled into the cutest smile. How could he possibly resist you? You were absolutely adorable.

You both immediately got to work. Even though Ji Yong’s baking skills weren’t the best, he tried his hardest to help.

“Did you say salt or sugar? Because… I might’ve added the wrong one..” he admitted with a pout.

You blinked at him before letting out a small laugh. “Ah… it’s okay. I’ll take care of that. Here, you can mix this instead.”

Ji Yong let out a small breath before looking at you and smiling. You looked absolutely adorable in that apron—how could he focus on baking when you were this cute?

Once you placed the tray of cookies into the oven, Ji Yong was busy cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. But as you turned around, you accidentally bumped into him—causing the extra batter in the bowl to spill all over you.

He froze, staring at you in shock. His eyes widened with panic as he put the bowl down in the sink.

“Aein, I—I’m so sorry!” he blurted out, looking genuinely guilty.

You glanced down at your now messy shirt, then back at him, trying to hold back a laugh. But before you could say anything, he was already rushing off to your wardrobe.

“Stay right there! I’ll get you a clean shirt!” he called out, determined to fix his mistake before you had the chance to react.

“It’s okay, don’t worry so much. I can just wash it,” you said, pulling off your shirt and reaching for the clean one Ji Yong had grabbed from your wardrobe.

Instead of responding, he simply stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. You felt him sigh against you, his grip tightening just a little as if to silently apologize.

You smiled, resting your head against his chest for a moment before pulling away to put on the fresh shirt. He watched you with a soft expression, his fingers lingering at your waist before finally letting go.

Once you changed into the fresh shirt, you both got to work finishing up the kitchen. Ji Yong wiped down the counters and put away the utensils while you cleaned the sink, making sure everything was back in order after the earlier mishap.

After the mess was cleaned up, you turned your attention back to the cookies. Once they were perfectly baked, you took the tray out of the oven, the sweet aroma filling the room.

“Now for the fun part” you said with a grin, grabbing the strawberry jam.

Ji Yong’s eyes lit up as he watched you carefully spoon the jam into a heart shape on each cookie. He leaned over, getting excited to join in.

“I love this part” he said, his hands reaching for the jar of jam.

Together, you decorated the cookies, laughing and chatting as you went along. Ji Yong carefully added his own hearts, his tongue sticking out in concentration. In between, he pulled out his phone and began snapping pictures of you.

You just gave him a gummy smile as you focused on the cookies. The sight of your cute expression was too much for Ji Yong. He threw his head back and laughed, then sat down next to you, pulling his phone up to post the pictures he’d taken of you onto Instagram. He smiled as he added a caption, clearly proud of how adorable you looked in the moment.

Once the cookies were decorated, you both snuggled onto the couch with the tray of treats. Ji Yong pulled you close as you ate the cookies and watched a movie together. Between bites and laughter, he smiled and said, “I really enjoyed today. This was the best Valentine’s.”

You looked up at him, smiling. “Me too. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it any other way.”

He leaned in, giving you a soft peck on the cheek, still smiling as he settled back into the couch.

liked by y/n, chaelincl & 2,356,956 others

xxxibgdrgn ✸ - valentine’s day done right ! 🐰

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y/n ✸ - 🫶

liked by author

chaelincl ✸ - 👀 👀

liked by author

iloveyei - AWW CUTIES

heartuyi - valentine’s day who? y’all are the real treat fr

unknwnuser - this is adorable!

jijiei - two cuties together !!

daisyww - y/n can bake? wow!

[asoftsighh]

hello!! i just wanna say that i love your writing sooooooo much like you’re literally a poet??!!??

was curious if i could request a remus lupin x reader where they’re sitting together on the couch late at night and they’re in a warm and comforting setting and just like lots of coziness and domestic fluff? thanks!

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ remus lupin x reader ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you and remus enjoy a cuddly night on the couch

609 words

a/n: thank you for requesting gorgeous! this is also my first time writing for remus so i'm a bit nervous♡♡♡

The fire crackles low in the hearth, casting a warm, orange hue across the living room and the pages of your book. It’s late, late enough that the noise outside is hushed and blanketed in darkness. But here, wrapped in a thick blanket with your feet atop Remus’ thighs, everything is still and calm and safe. 

A few chapters ago, his free hand had slipped beneath the blanket to find your calf, his palm warm against your bare skin. His other hand holds his book, a classic, if you were to guess. Your own book is held up in front of your face, its spine digging into your chest. You and Remus have been here for quite some time, so long that the words on the pages have started to blur together; you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve had to go back and reread a paragraph. Your eyelids start to droop once more when there’s a squeeze at your ankle. 

“Are you reading or are you sleeping, love?” His voice is low and warm, soothing enough to make you want to go right back to dozing. You tent your book on your stomach to look at him. His hair is still damp from his post-dinner shower, the ends starting to curl above his ears. If you weren’t as comfortable as you are, you’d tuck yourself into his neck to smell his body wash. 

“I’m tired,” you say in lieu of an answer. 

He hums, the sound low and affectionate, and shifts his hand up to cup the inside of your knee. “You could’ve said something,” he murmurs. “Let’s go to bed.” He’s already giving your legs a gentle nudge to move off his lap so he can stand. 

You yawn, somewhat unattractively, and don’t have a second-thought about it. It’s Remus, the boy who irons all your clothes when you need it and who rubs your back to help you sleep. The last thing you need to worry about is him getting thinking you are anything but beautiful. (He tells you everyday, anyway.)

“But I’m so comfy,” you say, curling up on your side for emphasis. Your movements cause your book to topple off and land on the ground. Your hands, now both underneath the blanket, curl beneath your chin. You watch him put his book aside in the corner of your eyes. 

He chuckles softly, the kind of laugh that makes your chest warm. He leans over you to pick up your book from the floor, putting it on the coffee table. He straightens with a resigned sigh. 

“Alright, alright,” he says, pretending to sound exasperated despite the smile flirting with the corners of his mouth. “Scooch over, dove.”

You move closer to the edge of the couch, letting him fit his lean body between the back cushions and you. He lets out a deep sigh as he settles, his arm winding around your waist to pull you back against him. His breath tickles the side of your neck; as if reading your mind, he presses an absent-minded kiss beneath your ear. 

Closing your eyes, you focus on his chest expanding and deflating with each breath. Soon enough, your breathing will be in sync, like twin tides pulled by the same moon.

“Better?” He hums, nudging your shoulder with his nose. 

You nod, too close to sleep to speak. Your hand covers his against your stomach. 

You feel the stretch of his lips against your shoulder, where your shirt must’ve slipped down. His voice is low when he says something else, most likely a goodnight or an I love you, but sleep has already taken you. 

criticism is welcome as long as it’s kind ✮⋆˙

i’m very new to writing ✮⋆˙

[alicedrawslesmis]

(sorry this is from a week ago but) Wait, what's going on right now that's complicated with Amazonian farmers' land rights?

Not farmers, indigenous people

See, recently they put a new law through congress that severely reduces indigenous land to the borders established during the late dictatorship, or immediately post-dictatorship, in 1988. An absolute joke of a border that was dreamed up by some military assholes. People in america may recognize this type of society from the times of westward expansion and think this is a thing of the past because for you guys it is. But here it is a reality. Murder is rampant. The reach of the law is incredibly limited. Government is just too weak and landowners basically run things. THAT'S WHY it's so important to donate directly to the native peoples instead of random NGOs because native people are fucking there and the more power they hold in the land the safer the land will be from agroindustrial expansion.

Well the law was vetoed by the the president and the Supremo Tribunal Federal, aka supreme federal court, labeled it as unconstitutional. Which it is, because our 1988 constitution describes native american land rights in some of its first articles. We thought this would be it for the law

But then the senate (that already overrepresents landowners in rural states) just went along and approved it anyway. I had no idea they could approve something unconstitutional. The progressives and particularly the socialists are fighting this in court. But it happens that for now the legal border is the severely reduced version.

Doesn't mean they'll just give up, because as it happens we don't have any stand your ground laws so even if you own a piece of land, you cannot legally speaking just shoot everyone there. Or attack or threaten them in any way. They'll just have long legal battles individually for the rights to occupy land based on use. Also the Xingu national park, the largest preserved land of the Amazon described as 'larger than Belgium', is being encroached by huge farms that are poisoning their water supply. The border is Visible. I'll try to find video of it but essentially you have a forest and a desert separated by a strict line.

Just last week in the south of Bahia (not the Amazon, let me explain more about the Amazon situation in a bit) Hãhãhãe leadership Nega Muniz Pataxó was shot and killed by an armed militia group that invaded and occupied the Caramuru territory.

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The situation in the Amazon, specifically the yanomami territory in Roraima our northernmost state, aka deep forest, is more dire than average given difficulty of access, sheer size, and government abandonment. It's a place that depends on government aid for medicine. It's land that is being systematically invaded by gold miners, pandemic, toxins from nearby farmlands, wood extraction etc. (wood extration is rampant everywhere tho). Early 2023 saw a massive federal government operation by now president Lula to empty the mines and try to look for where funding comes from. Yanomami land is still being invaded to this day, the struggle is ongoing.

The yanomamis need support right now more than any other. Last year saw a massive heat wave that (well, one, caused a girl named Ana Clara Machado to die during the Taylor Swift concert. This is unrelated but I feel like not enough foreign media covered this, Taylor even lied about it as well.) dried up a lot of rivers, killed a LOT of fresh water animals including an unprecedented amount of pink dolphins. Access that was already hard became damn near impossible without boats. I cannot overstate how many pink dolphins were found dead.

Another technique that landowners use to clear space for farms is to just set things on fire and then occupy the empty land, which they legally can do to land that was naturally burned in a forest fire. It happened that Pantanal, another national park of swampland, was massively devastated by fires last year too

this article is from 2020, the year that the worst fire happened, but in 2023 there was another one. It's been happening yearly now due to a) deliberate action and b) climate change aggravation.

And this is not nearly all. Just off the top of my head. If you speak portuguese I recommend following the APIB or the COIAB on instagram to keep up with the news. The FUNAI is the government branch of indigenous organization, but it's not generally that well liked. Still.

[idekkkjja]

Eyes on you,, ۫ ꣑ৎ (G!P) Giselle x f!reader

── .✦ everywhere, hidden in your shadows; Giselle is there. With precise use of her unlimited knowledge of you, she knew your schedule by heart. Better than you did. Every subtle detail was taken down to the basics: your favourite colour, your favourite show, your socials, and such. To extremes as knowing what panties you’re wearing on a Monday evening. The only thing you ponder is why there are gorgeous bouquets on your doorstep every Friday night at midnight.

Although you appreciated the effort of your unknown admirer, you had to bin them after taking a picture for your story, there was no purpose for them lying around. Little did you know it was from your sick bestfriend Giselle who ‘curiously’ after mere seconds of your story posted, bombards you with questions about who this weirdo is packaging you these.

Heads up: As usual, English isn’t my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. Giselle is a bit sick in the head here. She’s too obsessed w u,  toxic stuff, like gaslighting and manipulation. She stalks, and you have a boyfriend so mentions of cheating here, unprotective sex and umm this is so short im so sorry. By the way, this is my first g!p smut EVER AND IM NOT FAMILAIR W THIS SO ITS SHIT 💔. I’m still not that used to writing smut yall.

—

The grand clock strikes noisily announcing to its invisible audience that the day has ended, you shuffle amongst the comfortable waves of blankets laid upon you, completely limp underneath and content.

Noises from the TV faded in the background, and the main characters became irrelevant as the realisation sank in. Your eyes draw themselves to the neverending buzzing notifications vibrating from your phone, the reasons temptingly displaying themselves on the bright screen. You should have put it on dnd.

Stretching your muscles lazily by extending your arms to the air, you let out a groan before plopping straight back to the couch, eyeing the phone mere centimetres from you. Bold numbers light up the screen, advising it is finally 12:00 am. Well, specifically 12:03 am by now but who cares? Certainly, you don't.

12:00 am, the flowers must have arrived by now. It has been accustomed for you to constantly peer through the windows to note down the features barely shown from the person's black clothing, the bagginess, unfortunately, hiding the silhouette under. Most would have been reporting it, being a panicking mess and causing a huge chaotic search for this stalker who apparently knows their address but you... you felt pleased with these rather expensive and rare bunch of flowers arriving at your doorstep, simply your ego-inflating from the sincere anonymous affection.

Though, sometimes, you did crave to know this mysterious person's identity. Do they know you? Definitely. Do you know them? There is a chance, small or big, still a chance. Unwilling to voluntarily escape the bounds of your blankets, you got up slowly, leaving the dim living room unbothered to close the lights off and climbed up the stairs to one of the bedrooms with the window showcased to the front of the house.

Peeking out of the window, your barely half-lidded eyes wander around the area before finally settling on your desired sight, this admirer (or stalker which is better fitting) carefully placing new and different vibrant flowers on your doorstep with shaky hands. By now, it roughly nearing 12:10 am, this time they're quite late, aren't they? Unusual, and their hands are freed from the thick gloves they wear. Could they reveal themselves as your boyfriend? That was your first guess after all.

But the more you analyse the hands in your vision until the figure disappears into the darkness, the more you commit them to memory. The hands appeared too feminine to be his rugged ones, but you never let them lay a finger on you anyway. Shifting back your focus on the mental task ahead, you did notice the nails, which seemed quite long paired with slender fingers. The nails had nail polish on them, and the light pink was cleanly painted.

Is this possibly a girl? Someone you knew so well? From everything you have, just details of the hands, it was clear it wasn’t a feminine boy.

Turning around sharply, you ran downstairs, taking two steps at a time ignoring the risks accompanying you. At the door, you opened it, the cold chill blowing in your face as you yanked the flowers off the mat.

Your fingers instinctively tighten around it, letting the paper wrapped around it crumple. You go back inside to the comforting warmth as you close the door gently, grabbing the forgotten phone left on the sofa.

It seems you're receiving notifications left and right. Some are from your aggravating boyfriend. He’s too clingy. You do consider dumping him on nights like this. One is from Giselle. It's just a TikTok video saying a cute pair of cats suit you two perfectly. So typical. Leaving her on seen, your gaze rests on the bouquet, with a sweet aroma invading your senses.

Click. First, you post it immediately on your Instagram story, letting your curious acquaintances call them to pamper your DMs with questions.

Seconds pass by, and surprisingly, no response from your dear bestfriend. You started to grow worried, annoyed perhaps, she was online right before you posted. Nearly on all occurrences, she texts you, not you reaching out to her unless it is necessary. For once, you pushed your dignity (ego) off your gnawed mind, deciding to message her eagerly.

You: FaceTime?

Long, stressful minutes pass by, and a response dinged; making your uncomfortable waiting period worth its while.

Gigi: give me a moment

A moment? You have already waited long enough, your patience worn. Impatiently, you drummed your agitated fingers against your thigh, staring at the screen. Nearly throughout your so-perfect life, you got anything you wanted in a snap of a finger, including Giselle.

Five agonising minutes it took to see a familiar picture of her displayed on her profile picture for months now,ever once a blue moon she changes it. But everytime it’s up close on your phone, it manages to always annoyingly spread some kind of uncomfortable warmth along your chest. Despite your constant nagging on having matching profile pictures, since you got influenced by eager others. Sometimes, she reluctantly accepted.

“Hello?” Watching the girl set herself up to be in the view of the camera; subconsciously, as if an immediate response, a smile tugged on your lips from getting to see her. She did look exhausted: a mess by the looks of it.

Ragged pants barely getting by, messy strands falling upon her forehead, and her flushed cheeks. What occurred before this call that caused her to be in this state?

“What happened to you? Did you do some kind of… workout?” You teased, arching an eyebrow to thicken the implication of your words that made her more redder as it is.

“No, no… of course not. You know I’m not like that.” Denying the subtle accusation laced in your tone, she shook her head, covering her cheek in growing embarrassment.

And that’s where you noticed. Her hands matched your earlier description almost perfectly, on point. Slim, slender and pale fingers with light pink nail polish. This cannot be true, for months on end, this constant admirer or stalkers you’ve discreetly noticed hiding in your shadows was Giselle.

Your very own bestfriend, who knew every single detail about you to the point that in some depths, you didn’t even know yourself. This new comprehension you've developed had to be concealed for now, though.

Pausing in your words, you pressed your lips tightly together to form a line.

“Sometimes, I feel like I don’t know you. You’re unpredictable.” You said, not letting any of your inner turmoil leak through your softly spoken words.

“Unpredictable?” She echoed, visibly confused as her eyebrows knitted together to form a small frown, sensing the conversation contrasting to what she anticipated. On a common evening, nearly every day but preferably on Fridays; your phone calls with her consisted of gossiping about the latest drama at school, talking nasty and atrocious hearsay about almost everybody disguising it as an 'honest opinion', and what else? Giselle again convinced you to break up with your chopped boyfriend.

Despite your whiny protests against her 'very valid' points about all his flaws, you did agree with them.

Did it make it right for her to trash talk your boyfriend’s every single movement? No.

“You are,” you insisted softly, not wanting it to seem confrontational, yet despite you still processing this secret of hers that altered your view on her permanently.

“How?”

Unpredictable as in stalking you, putting on a facade the whole time you complain about the stalker, knowing that it’s her.

Was it hard to contain your impulsive mouth? Yes. But surprisingly, pressing your lips into a thin line helped it from spilling out any unprovoked insults against her that would spoil your plan.

“You’ll know soon.”

—

Every Fridays you anticipate for than you fail to admit, keening over your barely opened windows noticing how everything clicked into piece bringing a hint of peace to your conflicting confusion you had.

In your hidden notes, when you were sprawled on the bed, you scribbled down messily on a ripped piece of paper.

‘Red Flags - Giselle Uchinaga.’

- Gets jealous easily, too easily over anybody.

- Fake sometimes?

- Hear some shuffling in my bedroom whenever I leave her alone there.

- There isn’t much trust here.

- I have missing clothes whenever she sleeps around sometimes, including my expensive underwear!

- Whenever I interact with other hot dudes before my annoying boyfriend, she’ll treat me like some slut on the streets.

- Too pretty especially whenever angry.

- Has too much to pay back.

- Hypocrite.

- Has too many social media accounts yet never tells me about them… :(.

- Fuc

As you wrote, your running thoughts manifesting onto the thin, wrinkled paper, you heard a small thud from downstairs making you pause for a moment in your writing.

Did you forget to lock your doors again?

Cautiously without making too much noise to alert the intruder, you peek from upstairs and clutch on the stair railing, seeing a familiar shadow.

It is a Friday.

A feminine silhouette.

Giselle.

“Isn’t this too far?” Sharply you remarked, almost to yourself and the hooded figure froze in their footsteps, obviously caught snooping around in where they aren’t supposed to be.

Mentally, you knew you had the upper hand now, so you acted like you knew all this long where you knew for only a week.

Dramatically making an entrance, you went downstairs and sauntered towards the woman: unfazed by this despite the context.

Your bestfriend has been stalking you and now sneaked in your own home, why aren’t you freaking out?!

“Giselle,” reaching out, you grabbed one of the hoodie strings impulsively and yanked her forward having an impulse, frightened yelp escape her exaggeratedly stretched lips due to shock.

Absolutely humiliated, the girl froze, stiffening in your grip and stood there; preparing herself internally to either be thrown into prison or even worse—losing your friendship.

Slowly, you realised the difference now; you had so much advantage of Giselle. You could do whatever you want with her.

“You know if you miss me that much, you could text me, you know that? I do appreciate the flowers though, you know my favourite ones.” Those preciously sweet Lillies wrapped in a paper bouquet, and a small note tucked amidst the petals that you never read.

She was much better than your silly boyfriend, he doesn’t even know there’s different types of flowers except roses.

“I-I’m so sorry, this is so messed up���“ a finger pressed against her lips to mute the repetitive apologies coming out of her mouth like a broken record, you preferred to silence her with a kiss instead.

Leaning forward, your breaths mingled with one another, and you drew your finger back. “Shut up,” you murmured, acting upon your desire, and pressed your lips against hers causing a muffled, pretty sound between you two before falling to the floor.

A high-pitched gasp panted through her ragged breathing, her chest heaving up and down mesmerizingly so, your eyes glued on every bit of her anxious body language. As if she was a cornered small animal from a predator.

Stiffly, her aching hardness pressed needily against your core when you settled against her; your clothed sexes nearing dangerously.

Even by this small contact, Giselle felt like she would cum apart immediately.

“F-fuck,” Giselle breathed out, desperately trying to control her impulsive urges to… maybe prove that she could be much a better fuck than your loser boyfriend dreamed of doing.

Her arms encircled your waist, gripping it so tightly that it engraved ruby-red handprints on the sides of your lower bare torso, roughly turning you over and switching the roles swiftly from her greedy need to brag and show through her jerky movements. Trembling fingers lowered down to the rim of your shorts, her puppy eyes looked up at you, a silent plead for you to give in.

To give in what you craved.

“Fine, my dumb stalker…” you eventually huffed, having the resistant facade still displayed over to protect the controversial fact that your heart was about to jump out of your ribcage this very moment.

“Thank you, thank you,” the girl babbled, her voice muffled as she pampered messy kisses all over your neck, leaving a shiny lipgloss with a smudged shape of her plump lips.

With a sudden change of mind, she effortlessly turns you over so she can see your pretty face in no time shift to a lustful haze. Stripping down your precious hidden parts, her cold fingers out of ‘natural’ instincts, massaged your dripping heat to prepare you.

Just in case, you’re not used to big dicks.

Revealing herself to you hastily—her boxers hanging down—she didn’t let you absorb the view of her cock springing up, the precum glistening down the pastel pink tip, and how she had specific prominent veins on the side.

Painfully slowly, she drags her cock in you, to feel the moment she anticipated for so long and savor it. Not noticing a pained hiss barely making out your clenched teeth at how her almond, sharp nails dug in a little too hard.

You didn’t complain though.

“A-ah, f-fuck, fuck…” Giselle sputters, inhaling sharply to calm herself down.

Letting herself get used to the warm and tight sensation, she moaned lowly with you, now plunging in and out and settled to a familiar rhythm comfortable for both of you.

“Just like that mhh… oh, oh, God— Ah!” Clawing her back creating temporary red designs, drawing out pores of blood, you threw your head back and a choked gasp tored out of your throat.

“Am I better..? A-ah— Am I better than your boyfriend’s small dick?” Giselle managed to blurt a full sentence, a little epitome of her jealousy of that bastard for months and months on end. Knowing you were never satisfied with him.

“Mh… mh… yes, yes, yes…” Being fucked too silly, you unknowingly submitted to her, reassuring her the truth that she was indeed much, much better.

Sweat clung onto the girl’s messy bangs, some of the strands blurring her vision while she rammed in and out of you more desperately, hitting new deep spots you never even thought of having as she chased her impeding satisfying release.

Wet and sloppy slaps of skin echoed throughout the hallway, thankfully, the windows of your front door were covered.

Although, right now, being caught was the least of your worries; your mind fogged with her dick and her dick only.

Warm ropes of semen coated your insides and a silent scream was out of your gaping mouth, drool trickling down the corner of your lips as you moaned incoherent babbling. Eventually, it leaked out of your well-fucked pussy, reaching your shimmering inner thighs decorated by your wetness now mixed with her cum.

Post-orgasm, the deafening silence except for the panting talked for the two of you instead.

“Please, please, y/n… can't you… break up with your boyfriend?” Giselle hoarse out, her head resting on your neck when she admires you lazily with huge, adoring eyes.

Those that your dummy boyfriend never gave you.

“Sure.” Nonetheless, you dryly agreed. You were going to consider the option sooner or later anyway.

And the hallway, the intro of your huge home reeked heavily of sex and sweat. Not a good first impression for those who can come over tomorrow or the next day, you sighed in utter defeat: not wanting the snug feeling of her cock still lounging in you to be ripped away from you.

“Love you.” Giselle dreamily mumbled, her arms draped all over you in an almost possessive manner.

“Whatever.” You huffed in response, and the small conversation said more than enough about the dynamic.

[stargirllt]

hi. pornstar by nessa barrett but charlie’s the pornstar and he has like a secret onlyfans and his afab/fem bestie (reader) finds it because she’s like “ooh this guy’s body is hot” and then she’s like “wait his voice is really familiar” and then she sees the tattoo on his arm and is like 👁️👄👁️ as she realizes the guy she’s been the biggest fan of is actually her best friend and then it’s literally the song and she kinda hints at it with him then blatantly pulls an “i know what you are” and then they fuck :3

found you 1/2

hey mika you're a genius i love you and im making this into a two part series and im sorry its so late

you'd just gotten home from work, finished your shower, eaten dinner, and now it was time to satisfy the insatiable hunger that'd been stirring in your core since you'd left work. you see, you had a bit of a crush on your best friend, charlie; but he couldn't know that, so you had to continue like things were normal. that included calling him every day on your way home. 

this time, though, it seemed like he was the one hiding something. he was stuttering the whole time, getting distracted more easily than usual, and he kept groaning softly into the microphone. that was the main cause of the pit of neediness beginning to make its way into your core. by the end of the call, you were soaked.

so here you were, alone in your room, hand between your legs, searching twitter for your favorite nsfw creator. it's not like you were some perv or anything. i mean, the only reason you watched him was because he sounded like charlie, okay maybe you were a perv.

anyway, when you check his account you see that he posted less than twenty minutes ago. about an hour after you got off call with charlie. it was just another audio, but the caption stated that he made on onlyfans. it had a full body view, excluding his face for obvious reasons. 

you contemplated it, like really did. and then you went back to the actual audio and played the whole thing. the clip was different from the others, he spoke in this one. and even more surprising, he let out a very quiet whimper of charlies nickname for you. your fucking nickname.

so obviously you exited out of the video and clicked the link to his onlyfans. his user was "@slime_kingg" surely you were just reading into things. surely it wasn't him. once you'd calmed yourself down from that episode, you remember about the aching between your legs. you sigh, reach one hand back down, and subscribe to the page.

this wasnt a proud moment for you, paying real american dollars to see the naked body of a man who vaguely resembles your best friend of years. however, you did already pay, so why not take advantage of it. you click the first available video on the page. 

the man is sprawled out on a bed with a vaguely familiar blanket under him, you can't quite place where you know it from. once you press play, you can see the vibrator tied to the tip of his cock. he reaches around to turn on the vibrator and you see it. charlie's tattoo. it's bright blue, unique, on the inside of his wrist, pretty hard to miss.

suddenly everything clicks. the man sounds like charlie because it is charlie. the nickname, the tattoo, the voice, the hiding. so you stop what you're doing and you call him. he picks up almost immediately.

"hello?"

"hey char! i have tell you something."

"of course, whats up, n/n?"

"i found it."

"w-what? what are you talking about?"

"you know. i know. slime_kingg? really?"

"ohmygod-"

"chill out, charlie. im not mad, i dont think you're weird or anything. but i do think you're a slut." you giggle at the end of your sentence, watching the anxiety leave him and slowly come back.

"thank you, oh my gosh. please don't tell anyone, it would ruin everything."

"i wont, char. don't worry. i do have a request though,"

"what is it?" he sounded anxious, worried, even.

"i want you to come over, and show me what you're doing to yourself when you record those audios."

radio silence. then, it comes. the jingling of his keys.

"im on my way right now."

"ill see you then, babe." you hang up the phone and realize what you just did. immediately you get up to do your makeup, clean up the house, and put on  your favorite pair of underwear. 

about twenty minutes later, he arrives, not even bothering to knock. he barges into your house, going straight to your bedroom when he doesn't see you in the living room.

"y/n? im here!" he yells, still in search of you. when he enters your room, he freezes. 

"charlie.." you stand and walk to him, stopping right in front of where he stood. he closes the gap, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours in a harsh, passionate movement.

you whine softly into his mouth. "god, charlie. are you gonna do what i asked you to?"

"mhm, is that okay? c-can i do that now?" 

"yeah, sweetheart. show me what you do when you're alone, when you record those audios, when you think about me. im just gonna watch." you sit on the edge of the bed, facing him. he strips himself of his clothes and lays back on the bed.

"i can't, i just ca-cant-" 

"you wanna see me baby?"

"mhm! yes yes please"

you slip off your t-shirt and unclasp your bra, now kneeling next to him on your bed. 

"you can touch me baby, only if you keep touching yourself, though."

he whines and reaches one hand out to lightly grope your tits while still pumping his cock. 

"oh you sound so pretty baby, can i- can i touch you?" you question, unsure if you're crossing a line or not.

"please touch me, m-" he cuts himself off and his eyes widen.

"what was that? what, what did you just call me?"

"please mommy?"

"good boy, i'll touch you."

"ohmygod thank you mommy,"

you wrap your hand around his throbbing cock and begin to stroke him.

"baby, you're leaking everywhere. so needy for me, so needy for your mommy."

at those words he perks up and his dick twitches in your hand. he whines loudly and tries to hide his face in your tits.

"oh baby, dont be embarrassed. are you close, char?"

he nods and continues to shake and whine before cumming all over your hand and shooting up to his stomach and lower chest. 

"so good baby, take your time." when he finally comes down from his high, he snuggles further into your chest.

"baby, i need to get up so i can clean you off."

"mmph," 

once the both of you were cleaned up, you lied together in your bed giggling and talking about nothing.

"charlie? i think next time we need to record this for your onlyfans."

"shut up" he laughs into your chest.

[banquetwriter]

୨୧ Soggy Socks ୨୧

pairing: Joel Miller ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ implied soft!dom Joel, shy!joel, post TLOU 1 but pre TLOU 2, reader is basically ellie's mom, Joel and Ellie are friends here, passionate sex, no explicit aftercare, Joel is a little timid and shy and gives game and hbo Joel bc I love both smh

summary: ʚ two late-night fear driven bed talks leads to some well… bed talking ɞ

Words: 5.2k

A/N: omg hi, this isn't beta read and I'm a weird headspace lately and I hope this turned out ok I think its horrible low-key.

The cold air of the house clings to your frame. Yet another nightmare plagued your mind. The horrors of the world are not soon forgotten in your brain. You wrapped your arms around yourself. The thin fabric of your sleep shirt is both cold and warm as you leave the relative safety and warmth of your bed.

Your footsteps are light to not wake a sleeping Ellie. You tiptoe past her room and make it to where exactly you didn't want to. You stood in front of Joel’s. It was hard to define your relationship with the older man but one thing was clear to you. Your relationship transcended the perturbable barriers of society.

You both loved each other that much was clear to you, the crazy look he got in his eye when he thought something or someone was going to hurt you. His strong body guarded yours. You knew you craved him to a worrying level. It was true.

One time on the road someone came up behind you and threatened you. You slowly started to give the thief what he wanted, Joel wasn't going to allow that. He killed him.

It was the first time he had ever directly protected you. Not Ellie and you. Just you. You turned around, cheeks tear-stained and a lot of looks in your eyes. You faced him with nothing but fear, not of him but of the situation. Ellie looked between both of you with her fearful look.

Joel’s face fell seeing your scared expression. “Hey hey you're ok,” he whispered causelessly, setting down the weapon he used to save you. You clambered into his arms shocking the salt and pepper-haired man.

“Thank you, I'm so sorry,” you whispered back to him. His rough warm calloused hands found the back of your neck. His pine scent engulfed you as his strong arms wrapped around your body shielding you. He made you feel so safe.

It was a feeling you craved every day since then. You quietly knocked on his door with your left hand bringing your other hand to open his door. You peer into the room. You see his sleeping form tangled up in blankets.

“Joel?” you ask, peering over him. His snores fill the room. “Joel,” you say more sternly. You can see his eyes open taking in your surroundings. He shifts suddenly, whipping around to see you. You blink slightly embarrassed at waking him up. “What's wrong?” he said his sleepy face filled with concern.

The embarrassment fills your body into your bones. “I- nothing in sorry go back to sleep,” you whispered attempting to leave. Joel wasn't gonna have that. He sat up further, “Y/n.” His voice is stern. You paused, biting your lip before turning back.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asks, chest rising and falling more rapidly. It's now you notice he’s just in some plaid boxers. And only the boxers. His bare chest is illuminated by the moonlight leaking through his windows. “I just- I couldn't sleep I guess. Nightmare,” you mumbled your words scratching the back of your neck.

Suddenly the room didn't feel so cold. It felt hot. Like his laser gaze on you. Your eyes didn't catch his, fearful of what you might find. Scrutiny maybe? Judgment surely. “Hey,” he said causing you to look up.

“C’mere,” he whispered. This was different. The two of you, minus his life-saving hug, had never been so intimate before. Not physically anyway. Maybe emotionally sure. The occasional handhold when Ellie wasn't watching was all you both managed.

You took a sharp breath almost running to the opposite of the bed. He moved over to meet you sitting down slowly. “What was it about? Your dream?” he asked, his voice was sweet.

“Nightmare,” you corrected him with a small pout. He smiled sadly at you. “Alright, what was your nightmare about?” he asked looking you up and down. Your eyes fluttered slightly at his gaze suddenly nervous under his beautiful eye.

He must have noticed your sudden shift in demeanor and poor sweet Joel trying to help reached out his strong hand and placed it on top of yours. You felt a small flash of heat to your core as you tried not to think about how his hands felt. “It's ok, it's ok. M’ right here baby.” oh lord he had never used that word before.

It was most likely the early morning tired still in his brain. “It's not a big thing. It's silly really,” you whispered releasing a small amount of tension in your body leaning towards his form slightly.

He looked up at you from the bed, his puppy dog eyes seemingly able to think every thought before you thought it. He shook his head. “S’not silly. Now would ya please tell me what the hell is going on?” he asked, his voice low.

“I just was out there again. With you. And she and I don't know why or how but-but someone got us. They had a gun to your head Joel and it was so scary-” you started. Fiddling with your fingernails. His hand is placed over your hands, reminding you to stop picking.

He hated that you did that. ‘Tore up your damn hands’ he would always comment.

“I watched you die in front of me, but I couldn't do anything about it. I was so scared but Ellie I had to watch her. I don't remember much but all I know was I needed to get her out and I did and I woke up.” you rambled, and the words felt like they were slipping and pouring out of you.

Small tears prickled at your eyes as you tried to get a full breath in. It felt silly being worked up over a made-up tradegity. You let out an involuntary gasp, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you stated at Joel. His face fell his shoulder relaxing as he sat up.

“Hey hey c’mere.” he nearly commands, moving his entire body towards you. If it's a command or not you listen. Sobs wrack through your body as he once again consumes your body, mind, and soul. “Hey hey pretty none of this cryin’ ok? I'm right here,” he says, shaking his head, and pulling your body into his lap.

His warm chest collided with your face as tears streamed down your cheek. He shushes you slightly, his hand finding the back of your neck rocking you slightly. “I know it's scary but it ain't real, I'd never leave you or Ellie ever pretty ok?” Joel’s voice vibrated through his body and you could feel it.

It didn't matter how much reminding you that he was still here you still cried. You weren't sure how long but you did. After what seemed like a few minutes, you were just idly sniffling against his chest.

It was time for you to leave the comfort and face your now cold bed. You wiped your tears away and began to sit up. “Thank you,” you whispered. The bed creaked under your weight shifting. The air between you seems to stills as you attempt to leave.

“I was thinking maybe you stay. For tonight.” his voice cuts the silence. You stop in your tracks confused. You turn back to him. He propped himself on one arm, the other resting on his leg. “Joel. You don't know what you're doing,” you whispered to him.

“Yeah. I do,” he says looking at the empty bed space in front of him. You held your breath as you sat down. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” you hear yourself asking.

“Just to make sure you're alright. Been thinkin’ about it for a while now anyways.” Joel says. His words are confident but his face betrays him. His face was filled with worry. “It's just we've never shared a bed before. I can't just go back to normal, after doing something intimate like this,” you confessed.

“I-I know,” Joel said looking down for a second before looking back up again. “If you're ok with it,” he said, looking down again. You don't reply with words. You simply climb into the bed with him. His scent fills your nose.

Joel settles as a big spoon wrapping his arm around your stomach. Slotting against you perfectly. Neither of you said anything with words but placing a soft kiss on his wrist spoke volumes. As his soft kiss on your neck spoke in response.

To say that was the best sleep of your life would be an understatement, to say the least. You soon enter slumber and let it take you. And take you it did.

Joel felt you snuggle into his side. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he pictures a world where maybe he isn't so hard to love. Maybe the infected don't roam the earth. Maybe you're married and living somewhere in the suburbs. He has Sarah still, AND Ellie.

Maybe that isn't so fictional now he has both his girls in Jackson. You and Ellie that is. Maybe that's why he places another soft kiss, this time one on your hairline.

When you woke the next morning there was a severe lack of Joel next to you. Feeling your heart drop you now had to understand how on earth you were going to now have to face him. You were tangled in his sheets covered in his smell.

You sat up rubbing your eyes, swinging your legs over the bed, and yawning. You stepped quietly out of the room, letting the door softly click behind you. You heard the sizzle of food being cooked. You rounded the corner to find Ellie at the table scribbling away at her journal.

Joel was the one over the stove. His eyes met you. His face softened and a small smile overtook his concentrated features. He didn't look mad. “Oh guess who decided to join us,” Ellie said with a smirk, closing her notebook.

You roll your eyes at her, pulling the chair next to her. “Good morning to you too kiddo,” you said ruffling her hair. She grumbled fixing her hair. “Woke up just n’ time,” Joel said softly, holding a pan of what you assumed was scrambled eggs.

You pulled an empty plate from the stack of three sitting in the middle of the dining table. That was new. It's not like Joel excluded you from eating or something but he never exactly made a meal for all three of you. Minus when you guys tracked across the country together.

You smile up at him with messy hair and an empty plate. His gaze softens even more if that's possible, taking his utensil and shoveling a heavy amount of eggs (called it) and some sausage links onto your plate. “Thanks, Hun, Oh shit when did you pick these up?” you asked, picking up some utensils for you and Ellie.

You set them next to her and she hardly acknowledged it as Joel shoveled some onto her plate too. “Oh uh picked them up this morning,” Joel said nonchalantly. You smiled softly as she began to shovel food at lightning speed. Joel’s eyes look at his daughter before looking back at you.

You both shared a knowing look as you began to eat and Joel started to plate his own food, setting the pan back into the stove. “Where were you this morning?” Ellie asked, between gulps. “Uhhh.” you started as you were about to take a bite.

Joel’s eyes shoot up in panic. You blow a quick breath out before shoving food into your mouth. “What do you mean sweetheart?” you mumbled through your food gathering more food with your fork.

Joel follows suit and chooses to not say anything. “Well, I tried, to wake you up today so I could use your bathroom because the main one gets cold as shit, PLUS Joel doesn't clean up the water after he showers so my sock gets all fucking wet,” she says through heaves of food.

Joel’s face blushes a slight pink, slightly embarrassed by Ellie’s words. “I must have just been in the bathroom or something I don't know,” you said shrugging. The rest of the breakfast is spent in relative peace and quiet until Ellie finishes and stands up abruptly.

“Seconds if you want 'em’” Joel says to her nodding to the stove. “Fuck yeah,” she says before checking her watch. “Oh shit. I gotta go.” Ellie says, realizing the time. She places her dish in the sink. Before running off to her room.

“Hey. Where are you running off to?” Joel shouts after her. She doesn't respond, instead she comes bounding out with her pack in hand frantically looking around for her jacket. “Fucking jacket,” she mumbles.

You smile to yourself remembering what it was like to be a teenage girl. She slips it on running to the door. “Hey where are you off to?” you ask, turning around in your chair. She turns back out of breath.

“Friends. I'm gonna go see friends,” she says, placing her on her hip. She must think you were born yesterday. “Oh friends huh?” you say scrunching your eyebrows.

“Yeah. Friends.” She reasons. “You sure you're not going to see Cat?” you ask tilting your head. “I-am not getting into this with you,” she says, rolling her eyes and promptly leaving. You pierce your lips together and look at the man sitting across from you.

He stays silent as you both eat. Shying away from eye contact. But he didn't seem mad. “Got you somthin’ for ya, when you're done w’breakfast I’ll give it to ya,” he says nodding, still unable to look you in the eye.

“You could give it to me now, right?” you say with a slight smirk. A smirk tugs on Joel's features as he caves. He walks over to his jacket hanging up on a coat rack. He shuffles through the pocket and reveals a small bag of something.

For being a man who has survived this long it was almost funny seeing him sheepishly hand you chocolate. You gasp as you take it. “Joel!” you say immediately taking a piece out.

He doesn't say anything, just smiling to himself at your reaction. “If I didn't know any better I'd think you're being sweet on me,” you said placing the piece in your mouth. Joel continues not to say anything just staring at you trying his hardest not to smile.

His silence causes you to look up. “Oh my god you are being sweet!” you said. “Saw it when I was picking up breakfast stuff today and figured it would make you happy,” he said, placing his hands on his hips like it wasn't a big deal.

“Joel Miller has a crush on me!” you sang while taking another piece of chocolate. “M’ a little old for a crush don't you think?” he asked. “You're never too old for a crush Joel,” you said smiling.

There was a pause. Your eyes met each other and a certain electricity filled the air. It made your stomach erupt with butterflies. The beat of your heart doubled, and he took a slow step toward you. You leave the chocolate on the table, standing up.

“Yeah? M’not too old?” he asks as his body approaches yours. He was referencing the crush joke but you knew his words were deeper than that. He was asking you if he was too old. He sure as hell wasn't.

“You can never be too old, not to me at least,” you whispered. You tried to be full voiced but it didn't come out that way. Joel's eyes seemed to go darker as he stopped in front of you. There was a split second of hesitation before you felt his lips crash onto yours.

“Mmmm Joel,” you whispered against his lips. “Shh I know,” he whispered back. His rough hands find the sides of your face. His lips were surprisingly soft as they met with yours.

After a moment or two, he pulls away, resting his forehead on top of yours. Joel wasn't good with words, never has been, and probably won't be. This was a big change for him. Allowing himself to love you. God, it felt so good.

“M’gonna be late f’patrols.” He whispered, not moving. “You should probably leave then,” you replied as he pulled you into him. “Yeah. I will. Just need to say goodbye s’ all.” he offered you. That wasn't it and you both knew it.

Who knew Joel could be such a softie? You were glad either way. “Goodbye Joel,” you whispered with a smile. He let out a huff, pulling away and while you tried to remain stoic in the moment the loss of his warmth was such a tragic feeling.

Joel grudgingly got his things together and set out to the stables. His mind swirls with thoughts of you. Jesus he needs to get a grip he isn't some teenage boy who's just had his first kiss. But he sure feels like it.

The days seem to fly by you both as trying to get a handle on your life in Jackson is taking time. It's been four days since Joel kissed you, and you haven't had a moment alone since. Both of you work different patrolling shifts, or Ellie was there, and the only time to sneak in some hugs or touches was fleeting and Joel wanted to be a gentleman about the situation.

That doesn't mean you two weren't talking, however. As Joel came back from a later patrol shift covering for someone he found you and Ellie curled up with a book. “So wait, why doesn't Jo like Laurie?” he heard Ellie asking.

“Because sweetheart it's not that simple-” you started. “Ugh, whatever,” Ellie said, cutting you off. Joel rounded the corner. “Oh hey, the dinosaur is back!” Ellie said with a smile before looking at you. You poorly held back a smile as Joel rolled his eyes.

He plopped next to you on the couch wrapping his arm around your body. Ellie mindlessly snuggles into your side. It was so uniquely domestic. Joel wishes he could find an opportunity to talk to you about all of this. An opportunity doesn't come.

You don't miss his kindness, however. Every day when he cooks breakfast for you or leaves a secret note (which is adorable by the way). Telling you about how he needs a moment alone with you and it almost becomes a race to find it.

To find the time to exist with no eyes to find you. To explore what you two were before making things ‘public’. You agreed. Your feelings feel like they are spilling over into your whole life.

One night as it takes you and Joel every ounce of being not to jump across the table to be with each other Ellie is oddly quiet. “What's up kiddo?” you ask. “Uh, there is a sleepover at Cat’s house,” Ellie said as casually as she could.

Joel dropped his fork over his plate. Your eyes met. “Oh? Anyone else… gonna be there?” you ask her to try to be calm. The thought of Ellie going over to her girl… friend’s house for a sleepover would raise the heart rate of any parents but especially Joel.

“Oh yeah Jessie and Dina will be too,” she said, nodding secretly crossing her fingers. “A boy? No. You're staying here tonight.” Joel said firmly, re-picking up his fork. “What? Are you fucking kidding me?” Ellie said, annoyed.

Joel raised his hand about to explain to her why exactly she couldn't go but you interjected. “Joel,” you said calmly. “Maybe she should go.” both of them shoot you bewildered looks. He begins to shake his to disagree with you. “Joel Cat’s house is a short walk and if there are other people there it will be safe right?” you ask looking over at Ellie.

She shakes her head admitly. “Yeah, totally safe.” She reasons. He clenches his jaw, brow furrowing. “Fine. But if I find out any funny business happened so help me god m’ never letting you leave this house again,” he said sternly, warning her with a finger.

Eventually, Ellie scarf down all of her food and comes out with a little bag full of sleepover stuff and just about runs out of the house. And for the first time in days, it's just you and Joel.

You turn the big overhead light off sticking to the lamps in your room. You had just gotten snuggled into your bed when a small knock on your door disrupts you. “Come in,” you say and the door creaks open.

Joel in all of his domestic glory walks in. “Hey.” you breathe out with a smile. He turns to shut the door, his head held low. He sits on the edge of your bed. “Needed to talk to ya. W’out Ellie hearing.” he reasons gesturing in the air.

This wasn't what you thought was going to happen. “Joel? Baby? What's wrong?” you asked scared of why he was acting the way he was. He turns to face you slowly. His eyes were sad, his lip pouring and quivering slightly.

“Hey-” you said, setting your book down, moving to capture him in a hug. He turns looking down. You can see the tears start to fall from his eyes. You waste no time crawling down your bed and wrapping your arms around his shoulders trying to comfort him.

He leans into your touch as he cries. It's the first time you have ever seen him cry before. “Joel,” you whisper, sliding your hand to his face. “M’just too scared to lose ya. If we keep this up this little dream we have. I could lose it all. Me. M’ not fast enough, O-or I move too slow- ill me the cause of losing the two people in this world who love me back.��� he confesses.

The words weigh on your chest like a thousand bricks. You opened your mouth to try and help but nothing came out. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing almost to try and ground him.

A sob wracked through his body. “Joel, I am here because of you,” you said at last. He doesn't move, just inhaling a stuttered breath. “For the entire time I have known you I have not doubted your abilities for a damn second,” you reassured him. He finally looks up.

His sad puppy dog eyes make your heart hurt. Your hands find the sides of his face. “I am here because of you. I am safe because of you ok? And Joel even if something did happen it wouldn't be your fault. You're not responsible for us, ok?” you tried to reason with him.

“I am. I'm supposed to protect what is mine I-” he stops himself, his eyes flashing with fear. “Maybe it's our turn to protect what is ours Joel,” you whispered to the very broken man in front of you.

“And you are ours.” you finished, sitting up away from him. “Don't even know why m’here m’sorry,” he says standing up. Your hand reaches for his arm. You shake your head slightly encouraging him to sit back down.

He doesn't respond, only cautiously leaning in. You fill the space for him, your lips meeting in perfect harmony. This kiss, unlike your first one, had a need. An urge to be close. And as you slowly leaned back Joel followed you almost chasing you so far your head hit your pillows.

His bigger body practically cages you in. While you loved the kissing you needed more and you knew the salt-and-pepper-haired man needed it too. Your hand left the side of his face and trailed down to his belt buckle. You pulled it slightly.

The mischievous interaction left Joel practically melting in your hands. You decided to continue your humor. Your hand trailed down further meeting his bulge. Was he hard from kissing? Cute. Your fingers dragged over his member.

“Hard already?” you asked, slightly teasing him. With your flirty voice. His dark eyes glanced up from his forehead. “I ain't hard yet darlin’,” he said through an amused chuckle.

He does not miss the way your jaw gapes openly slightly. Shit, he was big. “And you're this big? Old where Miller.” you quipped after picking up your jaw. He chuckled slightly, a small pink tint forming on his tear-stained cheeks.

You smirk, continuing to massage his dick over his clothes. Continue to open your mouth and kiss him as you feel the warmth under your hand slowly grow hard. “Mmm fuck, you are making it hard to leave darlin’,” he said out of breath.

“Good,” you said, going back in for a kiss but this time on his jawline. You continue to pepper them down to his neck, sucking and nibbling as you go down. “You're so warm Joel,” you murmur, pulling away. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, biting your lip deciding you couldn't take any more teasing. Your hand finds his and slowly brings it to your torso, his eyes seemingly glossing over at realizing what you were doing.

“I need you, Joel,” you whispered. “I gotcha, promise, I've gotcha,” he said using both of his hands to slowly pull your sleep pants and panties down. The cold hair clinging to your warm skin.

“Fuck baby,” he said looking at your perfect glistening cunt. “I need you Joel please,” you begged. “Shhh I'll give it to ya jus’ gotta be patient.” he reprimanded, sliding his hands up your shirt. His hands were warm as he slowly groped your tits. You whined feeling yourself ache in between your legs.

Your arousal oozes out, tempting Joel. “Sit up,” he demands, gesturing with his fingers. You eagerly sit up. He removed your shirt quickly, his eyes marveling at your naked form. He'd seen a few women in his lifetime and none of them were as beautiful and breathtaking as you.

He must have been staring for too long because your voice broke him out of his trance. “Joel?” your voice was so sweet it could have killed him then and there. “Yeah…” he said trailing off finally peeling his eyes away from your tits and to your face.

“Can you take your shirt off too?” you asked so politely. Joel looked down to see he was still in his clothes, feeling his now hard cock strained against his pants was a suffocating feeling but Joel was a gentleman and there is no universe he would cum before you.

“Course’,” he said, discarding his flannel, his shirt goes next. You let out a moan looking at his beautiful body. Broad strong shoulders and arms down to his little old man tummy. Fuck.

Your hooded eyes filled with love (and lust) must have done something to him because those same strong arms and hands connected to your naked thighs. Rubbing them up and down.

You both stayed silent as he slowly encroached on your sensitive bundle. Eventually, his hands made it all the way up as he observed the way you clenched around nothing. “Joel I'm ready please I need you.”

That was all he needed to slowly start rubbing your clit. You were slick with arousal, his finger eventually dipping in, and your leg shook with the feeling of him adding another finger.

He pumped slowly but steadily, hitting that soft spot just right. “Oh fuck Joel.” you gasped. It had been so long since you felt this from anyone, well maybe something similar… you had never felt this good with anyone else ever before.

“S’that feel good?” He asked me to bring his thumb to rub your clit. You frantically nod. “Please come kiss me.” you begged him. He eagerly bent down to you. Devouring all your moans as he continued his ministrations.

You felt the familiar feeling in your belly, like a coil snapping as your breath became frantic and your whines increased. Joel knew your climax had reached when you clenched around his fingers. You let out a loud moan as you pulled away for air, legs shaking violently.

Joel watched with admiration as your face contorted with pleasure. He slowly pulled out of you, if he felt like he was melting before he had to be a puddle by now.

You looked up at it and you couldn't help but smile. Your hand reached out for his belt. You tugged on it, he took a deep breath trying to prepare for what he has wanted to since he met you.

“So needy mm?” he says undoing his belt and tossing it to the floor. His jeans follow suit, his erection slapping against his tummy.

Precum leaked for the tip. He was eager. “Only for you Miller.” he chuckled, placing his hand above your head as he aligned himself with you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort. He didn't find any. “I'm 100% sure,” you reassured and spread your legs as best you could. Using the headboard as an anchor he slowly pushed into you.

“Fuck.” whimpered as your warm soft walls clenched around him. A piercing pain filled your body as he bottomed out. You sucked in a sharp breath.

“You need me to stop? It's not too late.” he said, reassuring you. You shook your head. “Joel I need you to fuck me,” you demanded. He understood and began to do exactly that.

You moaned out for each other. Nails scratching his beautiful back with every movement. If it had been a while since you'd done this it must have been decades for Joel because he felt like he was gonna let go at any moment.

“M’ not gonna last,” he whispered in your ear, tugging slightly. “Me either.” you whimpered back. As your bodies collided your coils tightened and tightened.

“God dammit. Fuck, you are so fucking tight baby. Squeezing me as you love me huh?” he growled from on top of you. “I. Do. Love. You.” you squeaked after his thrusts. And that must have been what he needed to hear because his hips stuttered and he practically kissed your cervix with his cum.

Which was enough for you as you clamped down on him. After a minute he pulled out of you gasping for air. “Fuck Joel you're so good.” you praised sitting up and rolling on top of him. He peppered your face with little kisses.

“I love you too baby.”

—

“Hey Ellie, me and Joel have something to tell you,” you said, approaching her as she sat at the table. “Oh shit what's up?” she asked. “You can start using my bathroom so you won't have to share,” you said and she cocked her head to the side.

“Well, actually you can use that whole room…” you said with a small smile forming on your lips. Your eyes darted to Joel who had been stressing out over having this conversation.

“Because me and Joel are gonna be sharing a room ok?” you said plainly. She looked between you two for a moment then smiled. “Oh shit! Congrats!” she said before going back to her book. You and Joel begin to walk away but not before Ellie has the last word.

“Just don't let me hear you guys.”

“Ellie!”