#but i bought a small folding table which i will fold up and bring inside every fucking night because not even a gate can keep you safe

[coryosbaby]

18+, MDNI !! stepcest, daddy kink, d/s dynamics

Thinkin’ about stepdad! Hannibal and the many secrets the two of you shared.

His killings were the first to be revealed. Somber, delectable dishes that he cooked for you and your mother seemed to hold a completely different meaning now. The catch of his breath when he heard of a killer on the news or the way he smirked when you confirmed his alibi— ‘yes, of course daddy was here last night! We were cooking dinner!‘— seemed to make sense when that glazed over look in your eyes locked with his. The gifts he brought you, rings and necklaces and bracelets, all seemed to have an uncanny resemblance to a missing girl’s jewelry collection. A risky thing to do, taking his victim’s jewelry, but he only wanted the best for his favorite girl.

The second secret: gentle massages. Not in any terrible place, really— just your inner thighs, your hips, sometimes your behind if you behaved. It was the most sore, after all.

Which brings us to the third secret.

The spankings only started out when you were naughty. A bad grade in your college psychology course? ‘You should know these things, sweet girl, should know because I teach you. Do I need to punish you for not listening?’ A smart mouthed word to him after an argument? ‘Bend over the table. I’m sick of this disrespect, little girl.’ This, in turn, lead to the paddle that Hannibal had bought and stamped with your name in pretty cursive writing. Something that your mother didn’t know about, didn’t need to know about. It would take away the fun.

The fourth secret happened a few months after the last. A gnarley punishment for talking to a nasty boy from your class, equipped with your bare ass exposed and panties pulled down to your knees. Hannibal had never done this before, given that he wanted to save you the humiliation. But you had deserved it, really— you told him that, after a terrible date with that boy that he had warned you about.

“Daddy, you were right. He was so gross ‘n mean, and he tried to kiss me!”

His lips had formed into a thin line (he would deal with him later), and he had patted his lap. You had crawled into it, sweet and willing, and he had quietly asked you to bend over his knee. Hicupping, still teary eyed and pouty, you had obeyed. His hands had ghosted along the hem of your skirt, making you feel tingly all over.

“I’m going to lift up your skirt and pull down your underwear. Is that okay with you?”

You had nodded. Anything to please him.

“Good,” he had said, as he began pulling the sticky fabric of your panties from your drooling cunt. He had picked up the paddle, big hands covering the handle. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but your actions have consequences. You know what I said about talking to other boys, little girl.”

Oh, and when he slipped inside for the first time. It was by accident, honest! He had comforted you after a nightmare, holding you close against his body while everyone else slept. You had squirmed, pushing yourself back against him, needy. He had sighed against you, poking you with the thick cock in between his legs.

“What are you doing?”

“Just— can’t get comfy, daddy—“ a small, annoyed grunt, and wide eyes as you felt him poking against one of your cheeks.

“Daddy?” You had whispered, flushed. He had groaned. So much for keeping his composure.

Slipping his fingers down to his pajama pants, pulling his length out to rest against his thigh. His fingers had ghosted over your shorts, pulling the fabric aside to probe his tip against your folds.

“Now look what you’ve done,” he had growled, ignoring your small whimper of surprise when he breached you. “Stay still, little one. Daddy’s got another punishment to give you,” And then, pressing a kiss to your neck, “You can’t tell anyone, sweetheart. This needs to be one of our little secrets.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy

[staticnight]

The Boy at the Gala - Bruce Wayne x Male!Reader

This took me ages to do. I've been absolutely swamped lately (plus a lot of unrelated procrastination). This kind of sucks, the pacing is off, and I'm overall not a huge fan of it, but I figured I would just get something out and work on something better rather than worry about it.

pairing: Bruce Wayne x Male Reader genre: fluff? meet cute I guess word count: 1.6K

   You’d never been to a gala before. You’d never even been to a really nice house party. In fact, you haven’t been to many parties at all. Certainly, you weren’t supposed to have been invited to Bruce Wayne’s gala, it must have been a mistake.

   But whatever, you got an invitation - and who were you to decline an opportunity to meet Bruce Wayne? You bought the nicest suit you could reasonably afford, and you headed out. 

   You took a breath, taking a moment to prepare before opening the large doors to Wayne Manor. The large entrance room was full of people mingling, in fancy gowns and suits, drinking expensive wines and spirits. You felt very out of place.

   As you walked through the room, nobody spared you a glance, too busy with whatever it was they were doing. You looked around the room, at the high ceilings and the marble pillars as you moved. How could anybody actually live here?

   You were so distracted by the fact that you were in Wayne Manor, that you failed to notice the large man you were about to walk right into. You stepped on the back of his heel, bringing you back to Earth. 

   “Oh, shit!” You stumble backwards, bumping into another person doing so. The man turns around, looking at you. “Are you alright?” He asks, concerned. You nod and look up at him - your jaw drops a little. Bruce Wayne. The man you bumped into was Bruce Fucking Wayne. 

   After looking at him flabbergasted for a moment, you compose yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, nodding. He nods in return, his eyes drifting to your shoulder.

   “You got some wine on your suit,” he points out, to which your eyes widen. “Fuck,” you mutter, looking at the slight red stain on your shoulder. Your suit is black, so the stain isn’t obvious, but you spent way too much money on this suit to get a wine stain on it.

   Bruce takes a small cloth out of his chest pocket. He raises his hand in the air, calling over a waitstaff. After a moment, the waitstaff arrives, carrying a tray with various shot glasses and a jug of water.

   Bruce presses the cloth on the rim of the jug and turns it upside-down for a brief moment. He then brings it to your shoulder, wiping off the wine. The damp cloth is cold, even through the suit jacket. Even worse than that, Bruce had gotten rather close to you to do this, and you can feel his breath on your neck. Trying your best to ignore it, you bite on the inside of your lip. After what felt like forever, Bruce’s eyes met yours, only for a moment, before he pulled away.

   “I got most of it off,” he says kindly, folding up the cloth and throwing it onto the table behind him. “Your shoulder is damp now though,” he frowns.

   “It’s fine…” you touch your shoulder lightly; it’s a lot wetter than you thought it was. Bruce seems to think for a moment. “Maybe you should take your jacket off for now?” He suggests, his eyes meeting yours again. You think his face is a bit pink, but it’s hard to tell in the dim light. Perhaps you’re projecting, because God knows your own cheeks are starting to burn.

   You remove your jacket, holding it awkwardly. You can’t just tie a suit around your waist, right? There’s a strange silence between you for a few moments before Bruce’s expression quickly shifts. 

   “I forgot to ask your name,” he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice and face. “Oh, uh,” you hesitate. Does he know the names of his guest list? You aren’t rich, or famous, or related to anybody rich or famous. “My name’s [Name]. I got an invitation,” you respond, adding the last sentence quickly. Which you realised just as quickly was a weird thing to say.

   Bruce gives you a strange look, but only for a second. “Bruce Wayne,” he holds out his hand. He surely knew that you knew he was Bruce Wayne, but you shake his hand and say “Nice to meet you, Mr Wayne,” nonetheless. 

   “Ah, just Bruce is fine,” he smiles. He spends a brief moment just looking at you, but then realises that he’s still holding your hand, not even shaking it. Bruce pulls his hand back. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologises. “Just… zoned out,” he adds.

   You move your jacket into your other, newly freed, hand. “I can have that washed if you’d like?” Bruce asks, looking at the jacket, then back at you. “It’s no problem,” he assures. 

   You nod, “If you’re sure it’s no problem.” He smiles and nods back at you. Bruce puts one hand under the jacket, and the other gently atop your own hand. You look down at your hands, and his hands, feeling your face getting hot. 

   His fingers graze softly over your hands as he pulls his away, turning and giving the jacket to an old man beside him. He says something to him, and you’re only able to make out the words “washed,” and “tomorrow”, but that essentially tells you everything he said anyway. The man gives Bruce a look, before leaving with your jacket.

   “Do you do this for everyone you meet at galas?” You ask jokingly. He shrugs, “Not everyone I meet at galas gets wine on their suit.” You let out a breathy laugh, to which Bruce smiles. 

   “Would you like a drink?” He asks as a waiter with a tray of champagne walks nearby. “Yeah, I’ll have a drink.” Bruce nods and takes two glasses from the tray as he passes by. He hands you a glass. You take it, making sure your hands touch as you do so.

   You clink your glasses together and take a sip.

   “So, [Name],” Bruce starts, “What do you do?” You tilt your head ever so slightly at him. “What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

   “I can’t say I know everybody that attends these galas, but they all do something in particular. Usually businessmen and their trophy wives,” he takes another sip of champagne. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you don’t like you’re the businessman type,” Bruce explains.

   “Do I look like a trophy wife?” You joke, trying to avoid the question that will for sure get you kicked out. Bruce laughs, “I think you could be,” he jokes back. “At least a trophy boyfriend.”

   “Speaking of trophy wives, surely Bruce Wayne has a lovely girl that’s here somewhere?” You ask, half trying to avoid the previous question and half asking if he’s single.

   Bruce looks a bit embarrassed, “No, I don’t.” You refrain from making a face about it, but you can’t deny your surprise. “Yeah, love’s hard,” you shrug as casually as you possibly can.

   The old man comes back, notably without your jacket in hand. “The suit jacket will be washed and ready tomorrow. Would you rather pick it up yourself or have it delivered?” He asks. “Ah, I’ll pick it up if that’s not a problem?”

   The man nods. You really just want another opportunity to be in Wayne Manor, especially if it means talking to its owner again. 

   “Maybe I can get your phone number?” Bruce asks, “To let you know when to pick it up,” he adds quickly, his cheeks pink. You smile, “Yeah, of course, uh,” you check your pockets for something to write on.”

   “Oh, you can just put it on my phone,” Bruce says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He taps a few things on it before handing it to you, open on the new contact page.

   You add your number and name (with a <3 next to it for good measure). You hand his phone back to him.

He looks at the screen, a small smile on his face at the heart next to your name. He taps a few more things, and your own phone buzzes in your pocket. 

   You dig it out, checking the notification. A text from an unrecognised number; ‘Hey [Name]’, complete with a heart next to your name the same way you put it in. 

   You smile, and look back up at Bruce, who lets out a small hum. 

   “Y’know, I’d heard you were the cute playboy type, but you're much cuter in person.” You say, vocalising what was in your head. You’d already scored his phone number, so you figured ‘may as well'. Bruce laughs, though his face is undoubtedly pink.

   Turning your attention back to your phone, you add the number to your contacts under the name Bruce, of course with another heart. You have a theme going.

   You struggle to hide your excitement at the fact that Bruce Wayne is in your phone contacts.

   Before you know it, people start to filter out of the building. Neither you nor Bruce had noticed the time passing by, far too enthralled in your own conversation.

   Bruce checks his watch - surely the most expensive watch you've ever seen - “I can't believe it's that late already.”

   You check your own watch - surely a far cheaper watch. Your friend might have even given it to you second-hand - 12:27 am.

   “I should probably get going soon, then, huh.” You frown a little. Spending all night talking to Bruce might be one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

   “Or, you could stay the night?” He suggests. “Since your jacket is here and everything,” he reasons, seemingly to himself more than you. 

   Now your face is most certainly at least a little red. “Well, if you want me to.” Bruce nods, “There's more than enough beds - or room in mine,” he adds the last part quietly.

   The last of the guests are seemingly gone now. 

   Bruce holds out his hand to you. You take it.

   “Lead the way, Bruce.”

[tkwrites]

Happy Birthday, Sarah

gif by @gabelandeskog

Title: Happy Birthday, Sarah - Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Warnings: None. Just some fluff sweet enough to rot your teeth out. 

Summary: Quinn is gone over Sarah’s Birthday. 

Word Count: 1,500

Comments: I don’t really have any, other than this turned out so sweet, and I love it.

If you liked it, please let me know! Your comments and questions inspire me to keep writing! 

Happy Birthday, Sarah

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“Happy Birthday, Ms. Roberts,” Quinn’s doorman said as he welcomed her into the lobby. 

“Thank you, Reese. How’s your day so far?” 

“Oh, can’t complain. Lots of studying to do today?” 

“Yeah,” she took a deep breath, “I've got a test on Thursday to prep for.” 

“Well, good luck.” 

As she waited for and took the elevator, she wondered how he knew it was her birthday. Perhaps they had some kind of calendar that kept track of their tenants' important dates. When Quinn gave her a key, she had to submit her drivers license and complete a background check, which she thought was wild, but Quinn assured her was routine with the building. Even Petey had to do one when he stayed with Quinn for a week earlier in the season. 

When she scanned into the apartment, it became clear exactly how he knew it was her birthday. A bouquet of flowers sat in the middle of the dining room table. They definitely weren't there when she’d left the night before. Quinn must have had Reese bring them in that morning. 

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she laughed a little as she shook her head. 

The flowers were stunning. Pink peonies in perfect, full bloom. They were in an interesting square vase with some small white and purple flowers and fronds of a velvety looking greenery nestled in among them. They must have cost an enormous amount of money. Peonies weren't in season until later in the year and there had to be at least a dozen and a half in there.

Two small gifts and a card were in front of the chair she usually sat in to do her homework. 

Quinn was certainly trying to make up for the fact that he wasn’t here. 

They’d talked on the phone for a long time the night before as she lay in his bed. He'd sounded genuinely distraught to be missing her birthday. 

She assured him it was just another day, and they would celebrate when he got back. Besides, she was used to missing people on her birthday. 

Now, standing in this enormous apartment, she sighed, wishing he was here. Yes, she was used to missing people, and knew Quinn didn’t necessarily choose to be gone. Still, she would rather give back these beautiful flowers and any gift he may have bought her to have him here. 

At least she had dinner with Travis, Tanner and the kids, and then drinks with her roommates later on. 

She wiped her eyes and picked up the card. Her name was on the envelope in Quinns untidy, cramped handwriting. 

The card was simple. Nothing more than a folded piece of pink cardstock with ‘Happy Birthday’ written on the front in delicate gold calligraphy. 

He’d written in black ink on the inside: Happy Birthday, Sarah!  I hope you have a great day. I wish I could be there, but I’m excited to celebrate with you in a few days. Call me when you get this - Quinn

She wiped her cheeks again, clearing the mascara stains from under her eyes and facetimed him. 

Before she caught more than a brief glimpse of his face, the phone was wrestled out of his hand.

The camera was turned around as he protested, “Hey!”

She had to close her eyes as the picture shook with the ensuing scuffle. 

“Guys! Guys! It’s her!”

Someone finally gained possession and was pointing the phone around the bus. 

All at once, an entire team of hockey players was singing Happy Birthday to her. Some were standing out of their seats belting it out with all their gusto, and others were just singing along, not looking up from their devices. 

Sarah laughed, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. It sucked to have him gone, but this was sweet. 

They ended with a very off key “Yooooou!” and the camera turned back to the front, showing Elias with a teasing, mischievous glint in his eyes, “Happy birthday, Sarah!” he said. “Thanks for making Huggy bearable!” 

Lots of guys around them laughed, and Quinn took the phone back, shoving him out of the picture. 

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, switching the audio to his airpods, “Some of the guys found out it’s your birthday and, well, you saw.” He smiled through the bright blush on his cheeks, “Happy birthday, beautiful.” 

“Thank you so much,” she said, her voice a little wobbly. 

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” Brock mocked over the back of Quinn's seat, forcing his way into frame. 

“Get out of here, dick,” Quinn said, shoving him away. 

She heard someone cackle. 

“I'm sorry about them,” he said, blushing somehow brighter.

Sarah grinned, “it's fine. That was really sweet.” 

The guys had finally gone back to their own conversations. Elias had even moved to the row behind with Brock to give Quinn a bit more privacy. 

“The flowers are so beautiful,” she said. 

“Eunice said Peonies are your favorite.” 

“They are. They're so lovely.” 

“The florist put some other stuff in there. He said they're your birth month flower.” 

“I thought those were daisies.” 

He shrugged.

“Well, whatever they are, they're so beautiful. Thank you.” 

“You're welcome. Did you open your gifts yet?” 

Shaking her head, she propped her phone up against the vase and sat down.

Each gift was wrapped in shiny ocean-like blue paper with the kind of precision that told her someone else did it. Quinn would never have the patience to wrap gifts this tightly. 

One was long and thin while the other was more of a cube. 

She had a sudden, consuming worry that he had bought her jewelry, which seemed too formal for the fact that they hadn't even been dating for six months. 

Hesitation building in her stomach, she asked, “should I open one before the other?” 

“The long one first.” 

She could tell from the look on Quinn’s face that he just wanted her to tear into it, but she took her time, trying to calm her nerves. A flat white box greeted her. As she pulled the paper away and realized what it was, her eyes darted to her phone, where he was watching, smiling expectantly.

“Quinn,” she said, bringing a hand to her mouth, “this is too much.”

He shook his head and held himself back from telling her it wasn’t enough. “I know you have to keep your phone in your bag at the aquarium, so I thought this might help,” he said. “It’s the new one that’s really water resistant so you don’t have to worry about dunking it in the tanks.” 

It was like he knew she’d been lusting after an apple watch since they were released, but couldn’t justify the cost with the risk of water damage that came with her job.

“I know you don’t like the silicone bands, but that was all they had at the store,” he said. He’d tried to give her a silicone bracelet once, and she’d grimaced apologetically as she told him she hated the feel of them on her wrist. “I ordered some different straps, but they haven’t come yet.” 

Behind him, he heard Elias and Brock sniggering. He flipped them off with the hand not holding his phone and they howled with laughter.

When she looked back into the camera, there were tears in her eyes. “Thank you. I wish you were here so I could kiss you.” 

“I wish I was there, too.” 

The other gift was a set of airpods. Quinn insisted they came with the watch as a kind of promotion. She wasn’t totally sure if she believed that or not, but she was thankful all the same. 

“I really don’t even know what to say,” she confessed, “Thank you so much.” 

“You’re welcome. Happy Birthday.” 

They chatted for a few more minutes before the bus arrived, and Quinn had to hang up. 

Unable to help herself, Sarah googled the watch, and gasped when she saw the price tag. The underwater capabilities came with a hefty price increase of nearly three times more than a regular smart watch. 

Quinn! she sent him, This watch was $800! 

When her message came through, Quinn laughed a little. He’d been expecting it. 

Was this more than he’d spent on a gift for someone he’d been dating less than six months in the past? Yes. But things felt different with Sarah. He wasn’t waiting to see if they would work. He’d never felt like this before - like he knew they would be together for a long, long time. That first time he talked to her, it was like finding a sudden, missing puzzle piece in his life, and they had only continued getting better since then. 

Plus, he had the money to solve a problem he knew bothered her, so why not just do it? 

 I’d spend it again to make you happy. 

Happy Birthday, Sarah. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Okay, so I have a request 🙈 -that you can feel free to ignore- because my real life situation is frickin setting up for a smut plot but I'm not activating it 😂 but one of the Sides 👀👀👀 definitely would. So a roommate who constantly makes noise like he's getting off/fucked and like, lays in bed twitching like he's got somethin in his ass 👀 so what happens when someone buys him a thrusting/vibrating dildo/plug via Amazon and it shows up when he's home alone. Does he use it alone? Does he get caught by the roommate who bought it? That day? Eventually? Ever? I'd love to know your take. Pairing of your choice. -😳

Home Alone

Demus (Janus x Remus) Warnings: toys, plugs, hair pulling, thigh fucking

"I don't remember ordering a package," Remus mumbles, scratching at his stubble as he leans in the doorway of his house. He's staring at a box placed at the front door, addressed to him, but the contents unknown. 

Sure, Janus often has things shipped to their house - they are roommates after all - but he puts his name on those packages, and gets rather pissy when Remus snoops inside of them, claiming "that's illegal" and that he'll "send Remus to the pound" if he does it again.

Perhaps this was something Remus has ordered while drunk, and simply forgot. That's happened more than once, after all. 

He grins and grabs the package, so delighted with himself that he basically skips inside. Sure, he may not remember what's in here, but he's looking at this situation like it's a nice, surprising gift! Anything could be in here, and Remus had quite the vivid imagination, which meant this box delighted him immensely. 

The mere thought that this could be anything from a bomb to a basic tee-shirt entertains his hyperactive mind as he tosses the box onto the couch, and then falls onto it after, laying on his stomach as his sharp nails dig into the packing tape. 

Effortlessly, he pokes his finger through the material, and then slices it open, gathering up and then tossing the sticky strips carelessly to the floor, knowing he'll probably get an earful for making a mess when Janus gets home from grocery shopping.  Then, he's opening the box up.

 Inside is a thick, black plug, and a small remote folded within an equally minute packet of instructions printed in small, hard-to-read lettering. Immediately, Remus is whooping as he rolls onto the floor, barely stunned by his back hitting the ground as he rushes to dig the plug out of the packing peanuts and set the remote on the table.

"Man, I sure do love spoiling myself!" he exclaims excitedly, congratulating himself on his unplanned purchase. 

Tipping the remote over, he slides the back open and checks it for batteries, only to see a plug instead. At the bottom of the box is a small charging cord. Remus hums as he stands and brings his new toy to his room, immediately sitting near an outlet and plugging the remote in. He lets it charge until a small light on the remote glows blue, where he's hitting what he presumes to be the "on" button (a big button in the center, with two smaller ones below and above it).

Immediately, the plug starts buzzing with intense vibrations, making Remus squeal. He grabs the plug with his hand, holding it as he takes his time hitting the small button on top until the plug seems to reach its max intensity, and then doing the same thing with the lower button until the plug stops vibrating at all. It seems to have a wide range of vibrations that have Remus kicking his feet with anticipation.

"Thank you, Past Me, for surprising Present Me with a lovely little toy!" Remus babbles out loud, already shimmying his clothes off. He mumbles a silly response to himself of "you're welcome, Present Me. Aren't I a genius?"

His shirt and pants discarded, Remus is quick to reach toward his nightstand and feel around for lube, which he's quick to pop open once he finds. He doesn't care that he's still seated on his floor; all he cares about is pouring an excessive amount of lube on the toy and then picking it up, bending down to be on his forearms and knees as he teasingly drags the plug between his cheeks.

He leaves a trail of lube between his crack, before he slowly pushes the toy into his hole, moaning loudly as he feels himself stretch around it. He's sexual enough normally that he didn't bother to finger himself open beforehand, but this plug makes him feel pleasantly full, especially after Remus pushes it in up to its base.

Moaning obscenely loud, Remus lets his face push against the floor, working the plug slowly in and out of him just to tease himself, before he pushes it in fully and then lets it go.

It fills him up so nicely, and as he sits back on his calves he can't help but slap his own ass and grin. Damn, he's sexy.

The plug seemingly fits perfectly inside of him, or so he'd claim, but the plug itself isn't that exciting on its own. What really delights him is the remote that came with it, of which Remus is eager to grab and click on.

Immediately, medium vibrations are pleasuring his ass, making him squirm happily as he pushes his chest against the floor, presenting his ass into the air.

His door is wide open, but he's home alone, so his noises of pleasure echo throughout the house.

His thumb caresses the remote as he debates between flicking it as high as it can go, or lowering the vibrations and edging himself just to be a tease.

Finally, he settles on raising it a bit, and then sitting back on his knees, groaning as he messes with the plug. He pulls it out just enough for the widest part of the plug to stretch around his hole, and then pushes it back in deep, clenching around the toy as he fidgets with it until he can feel it pressing against his prostate. Violent vibrations torture the bundle of nerves, making him cry out a sultry "oh, fuck!" followed by a loud and nasally moan.

That just so happens to be the noise Janus is greeted with as he opens their front door.

He can't really feel anything but amusement and a sense of pride as he listens to Remus no doubt play with the toy he bought. After all, he'd gotten the alert that his package was delivered this morning, and it isn't on the porch waiting for him. But why would it be? He'd addressed it to Remus, after all.

Janus sets his groceries down on the kitchen floor, directing them towards the counter with his foot before he shamelessly struts to Remus's room, not surprised to find the door wide open.

Smugly, he leans in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hm," he begins, loud enough to get Remus's attention, "I see you're enjoying your little gift."

Unsurprisingly, Remus isn't ashamed of being caught at all. In fact, he doesn't even bother to pause his playing while talking, just grinning wide at Janus as he grinds down on the toy as best he can.

But Remus still picks up on the implications of Janus's comment, and smiles wide as he slides the toy out a little bit once more. "So that explains why I don't remember buying it!" he exclaims, before moaning loudly as he shoves the plug back in, muffling it's intense vibrations. "But why question a good thing?"

His words are routinely broken by his lewd noises, but he still gathers enough breath to ask "may I know why you've decided to spoil me all of a sudden?"

"Don't make it sound so sweet," Janus chastises, as he pushes Remus's bedroom door closed. He strides towards Remus without hesitation, and helps him off the floor and onto the bed, pulling the remote from Remus's hands in the process. "I did this selfishly. Your gift was completely for my benefit."

Remus moans. "How so?"

Janus clicks the toy down until the vibrations cease entirely, making Remus whine immediately. When he goes to complain, he's silenced by Janus raising his hand, clearly about to offer an explanation. And though Remus is impatient, he's also curious, and so can settle on clenching around the toy until Janus is done.

"You're loud," comes Janus's immediate response. "Very loud. Even with your door shut I can hear your perverted moans seeping into the living room, interrupting my shows or distracting me from work. It's really inconsiderate, you know." Janus moves closer, before waving Remus up.

"Get on the bed," he orders, and Remus scrambles to obey immediately despite the fact they've not done anything sexual previously. He's still inclined to obey.

Remus immediately rolls onto his chest, lifting his ass into the air and bringing one of his hands back to pull his ass cheek to the side in order to show Janus the plug's base, with the toy itself nestled comfortably inside of him.

"Do you know how much of a tease you are?" Janus continues, and Remus can feel him kneeling on the bed behind him. "Always torturing me with your whorish noises, and never inviting me to touch?"

"I thought that could be assumed," Remus responds, only to jolt and moan when he feels a harsh slap to his ass in response.

"Shut up." Janus is firm, and swats Remus's groping hand away after a moment, taking to running his own hands over Remus's cheeks, groping them to his liking before he spreads them apart and grabs the base of the plug, slowly pulling it out before pushing it back in, repeating the process a few times before he's seemingly over Remus's quiet grunts of pleasure.

Janus's hands slide away from Remus's body, making Remus turn his head back to try and catch a glance of him, only for the plug inside of him to suddenly buzz to life once more. He cries out immediately, arching his chest further against the bed while his cock leaks onto his comforter.

"It's powerful, isn't it?" Janus commentates, knowing Remus isn't going to respond. "I made sure to get something stimulating enough to keep you interested. You seem like the needy type, after all."

"How'd- how'd you guess?" Remus gasps out, between moans.

Janus smirks. "I'm very perceptive."

There's the sound of a zipper, followed by lube, and then Remus feels Janus's hand dance across the back of his thighs.

"I can assume the answer, but just to make sure, this is okay, right?" Janus asks, pausing for a moment. Remus is quick to affirmatively answer, making Janus grin before his hands are placed on the sides of his thighs.

Momentarily, Remus wonders what he's going to do, before he feels Janus sliding his cocks - two?! - between his legs, rubbing them against Remus's own cock and closing his thighs around them to give him more friction.

"It'd be a waste to pull that plug out of you," Janus muses, as he shifts the toy around a few times before pressing it up against Remus's prostate, making Remus cry out in sudden pleasure. "Especially after how much I spent on it. You really owe me, you know." Grinding slightly, Janus rubs his cocks over Remus's own, making them both moan.

His arm slides around Remus's waist, and grabs all of their cocks to the best of his ability, squeezing them against each other.

"Two cocks," Remus moans, tongue brazenly out of his mouth as he pants like a dog. "You're a fucking freak. That's so hot!"

Janus scoffs. Here Remus is, letting his roommate use him like a toy, and he's the freak? Hmph.

In response, he squeezes his hand roughly around their cocks, stroking them hard and fast and making himself groan as he leans over Remus's back. His free hand fiddles with the toy's remote, and he lowers the intensity a few notches. When Remus whines, Janus just says "we don't want you spoiling our fun too soon, do we?"

Realistically, even if Remus came too soon for Janus's liking, he'd just overstimulate him until he was satisfied.

"Turn the vibe up," Remus pleads, through dramatic sobs of pleasure. "Pretty please?"

Out of spite, Janus drops the remote onto the bed and grabs Remus's hair instead, pulling his head back and watching drool roll down Remus's chin. The lower half of his face is a mess of spit, and he's careless in moaning louder at the feeling of Janus's fingers tangled in his messy locks.

"Fuck!"

Janus curses under his breath at how vocal Remus is. He knew this would be the case; that's why he was encouraged to do this in the first place, but being in the room with him and listening to him moan and cry with each stroke of his cock or fidget of the plug made Janus realize just how sensually sensitive he is. No wonder he's so loud; a brush against his nipples or a thumb over the slit of his cock probably has him nearing an orgasm almost instantaneously!

Janus keeps one of his hands knotted in Remus's hair, and tugs his head occasionally just to earn a pained whine, while his hand speeds up on their cocks. Remus really is quite the teasing slut.

"I should have done this sooner," Janus grunts, lips pressing against Remus's neck. His sharp teeth scratch Remus's imperfect flesh, dragging over scars and moles and random patches of rough skin that Janus leisurely lets his tongue roll over. With the plug vibrating so low, Remus is the one that's feeling truly cheated. Yes, it's pleasurable, but it's not enough. If Janus wasn't stroking him off right now, he'd be saying a lot more!

"Please," Remus begs, shooting his shot with pleading once more. "Turn it up! Need it, please!" 

Janus sharply tugs on Remus's hair, earning a cry of desperation, but finally slides his fingers out of it after a moment, watching Remus's head fall quick onto the pillow beneath him, moist with his spit. Despite how fun it is hearing him moan and cry, Janus didn't spend an absurd amount of money on this remote-controlled vibrator just to not use the remote. That'd be silly. 

He grabs it, clutching it tight as he works his hand over his cocks, rubbing them against Remus's quickly. Without a word, he's flicking the remote up a few notches, watching Remus push his chest into the bed as he moans out Janus's name. 

"So hot!" Remus gasps, feeling the plug torture his prostate. "I don't- I don't-" he gasps, before steadying his voice just enough to express "I don't know how I'm going to take this toy out. I want to keep it inside me forever!" 

"Gross," Janus utters, but he clicks the vibe up another peg. He doesn't doubt that Remus will get plenty of use out of the plug, but he'd rather Remus take it out once in a while, lest they want a hospital trip on their calendar. 

Moaning loudly, Remus's fingers drag across the sheets as he rocks his hips, feeling Janus's hand pump his cock and the plug jostle in his ass. He feels so hot. 

And then Janus is turning the plug up all the way, maximum vibrations torturing Remus's prostate with little more than a soft click, which has him crying out immediately "I'm close! I'm close!" 

He's so loud, so shameless, and so quick to come after announcing his approaching orgasm. Clearly, he was a lot closer than he claimed, and his semen spurts over the sheets in thick ropes, until his cock hangs leaky and spent. 

Janus strokes him through his orgasm, before pulling his hand back and turning the vibe down low. Not off, low. Then, he scoots back just enough to push Remus's thighs further together, and leans over him, promptly fucking his thighs as quick as he possibly can. Lube slicks up the sides of Remus's legs, with Janus's cocks rubbing against each other and Remus's flaccid shaft, which seems excited by the brief contact it gets with each thrust until it's twitching and hardening once more. 

"Whore," Janus spits, though his words are more amused than anything else. "If you get hard again you're on your own." 

Remus whines, fully intending to stroke himself off again once Janus comes. And he wants Janus to come. 

"Make a mess of me," Remus pleads, clenching around the plug in his ass. He lifts his body up so that his back is weirdly bent, and so the top of his head is against the pillow, facing toward Janus's rocking hips and his own limp cock.  Tongue hanging out of his mouth, Remus implores Janus "come on my face! Fucking ruin me!" 

And Janus does. With little more than a moan of his own, Janus thrusts his cocks hard between Remus's thighs, and comes. He makes a mess of Remus's chest, the bed, and Remus's face. His come spills over Remus's cheeks, lips, and even gets into his hair, meaning that when Janus pulls back and Remus rolls over, he gets to see the fruits of his labor. 

Remus licks his mouth. 

"Fuck," he curses, panting. His half-lidded eyes observe Janus from across the bed. They both just stay for a moment, catching their breaths, before Remus goes "so... do I get another sex toy the next time you want to bang?" which promptly gets Janus throwing the remote at Remus's chest. 

"Buy your own damn toy," he huffs, before tucking his cocks back into his pants. "And close your door. Especially at night." He pinches the bridge of his nose, recalling the many sleepless nights he's had as a result of Remus getting horny at two in the morning. 

Remus just laughs in response. 

But as Janus gets up to leave, smoothing out his clothes and running his fingers through his sweaty hair to straighten it out, Remus calls "feel free to use me any time you'd like, though." 

Janus glances at him and sees Remus scooping Janus's come off his face and sucking it off his fingers, before Remus adds "after all, I'm going to be moaning your name a lot more after this. It's only fair that you come be the one to make me moan it, y'know?" 

Janus rolls his eyes, and doesn't respond, but Remus knows he'll be back. And until Janus decides to use him again, Remus had a new remote control toy that he could turn up whenever he so desired. Such as right now. 

And as Janus pulls his door shut, he hears muffled buzzing, followed by a crescendo of moans that Janus knows will echo through the house until Remus is done. 

[fuckyeaharthuriana]

Create/Bind your own book

I decided to post this on my arthurian blog as I want to bind an actual book of arthurian texts (from Mary Jones´ translations), but this can be done with anything! My first attempt was actually AO3 fanfics, and my second one was an empty drawing notebook with watercolor pages.

This is the 101 How to bind your own book, extra easy version.

What you will need:

Glue for paper (like vynil glue) + a brush to spread the glue

Paper / printer book in booklet form

cardboard (I use amazon boxes I cut down)

a ruler

pencil

a printer

paper creaser / bone folder (not necessary, you can use a ruler too)

thread (waxed thread is probably the best one, but any thread that is hard to break would work)

scissors

awl (or anything that can make holes in paper)

needles (with a big hole, curved needle would be the best one)

a material to use as a cover. I use cotton fabric so I can add some embroidery to it

gauze if you have it, but not necessary

some weights and plastic sheets (I use other books as weight, and plastic wrap = this is just to not end up with glue everywhere)

What is the process (quick overlook of what you should do and in what order):

1) Print your book in booklet format, or prepare your pages (if you are making an empty notebook) (needed for this: printer, microsoft word or a pdf program, paper creaser)

2) Add holes to all your pages (needed for this: ruler, pencil, awl)

3) Sew the pages together and glue the book together (needed for this: needle, thread, scissors, brush, glue, plastic and the weights, gauze if you want)

4) Prepar the cover (needed for this: ruler, scissors, glue, fabric, pencil, weights, plastic)

5) add the book of the cover (needed for this: glue, plastic, scissors, plastic, weights)

the end!

Now let´s start:

1) PRINT THE BOOK + FOLD

If you are making an empty notebook, simply find a paper you like (ex. for watercolor I bought A4 300gr paper) and then bend each single page in half. To bend in half you can use a ruler to check where the half is, or simply fold the paper in half by aligning the borders. You can use the creaser to make a nice fold, here is how to use it (video).

If you want to print a book, you will have to print in booklet format. The easiest way to do that is using word and organizing your document before printing. This is the easiest way to do it (how to link). Remember to add page numbers to your document, it makes it so much easier to check that everything is being printed correctly.

Ideally, you want to organize your book in booklets of 8 pages, but it will also depend on how big your paper is. If you are printing pictures you might use very thick paper (so that the color cannot be seen on the other side). For a fanfic/text, I use 160 gsm paper.

What is a booklet? (link)

Once you have printed each booklet you will have to fold it. Pages in your booklet will go inside one another, so you will fold the first page, which will have page 1 and the last page of your booklet, and so on.

You can use the creaser to make a nice fold, here is how to use it (video).

The booklet will be sewed later in the middle.

Your book will be made of small booklets, all put together.

2) ADD HOLES

The location of the holes depend on the type of binding you want to do, so you might want to check point 3 before adding the holes! Still, the best way to add holes is a pointy metal rode/a hole puncher. The holes need to be small (big enough for a needle), and the best way is to put some foam under the opened booklets so that you don't scratch the table.

You will add holes to all booklets! Like this video shows.

3) SEWING

To sew the book together there are different type of sewing tecniques, I will bring examples of the one I use, as I found it to be the easiest. Also, you can use any needle and any resistant thread, but I prefer to use waxed thread (for bookbinding) and a curved needle. You can find the waxed thread and big curved needle in any bookbinding kit!

this shows the passages till this point plus sewing, it has no words, while this video instead describes and show the type of sewing that I also do.

4) GLUE

Press your book! Leave something heavy on it before the glue!

Any paper glue works great! You can use glue on the spine of the now sewed book (all your booklets put together) to reinforce it. You can also use some gauze (like medical gauze) to reinforce the spine, like this:

5) COVER

Now you will need to create a cover (if you want)! The easiest way is carboard and book cloth (here some examples on how to create book cloth, one here and one here).

Making the cover has always been the tricky part for me, so the best thing I can do is recommending this great video!

[aldrichpalermo]

Simply, Love | Raldi

Featuring: Riley Moore & Aldrich Palermo (@riley-francis-moore) Location: Villa Balbianbello; Lake Como, Italy Notes: RALDI WEDDING DAY!

ALDRICH

After having given clear and specific instructions to his team and leaving everything in their capable hands, Aldrich stepped away to shave, shower and spend his last few hours mostly in private before he'd be exchanging vows and becoming Riley's husband. He now stood in the room in the villa designated for him to ready himself for the wedding. He adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt and then carefully threaded his arms through the buttery soft fabric of his ivory-colored waistcoat. Occasionally, his sisters had popped in to check on him and one of the hired photographers had come through for a bit, but for the most part, he'd had gotten himself ready on his own, which he mostly preferred. After one more visit from his sister, Bianca, he invited her inside. She poked her head in first, and then waltzed into the room with the skirt of her dark purple gown sweeping in after her.

"I know that you care about staying on time when it comes to these things, but I also know that you want to look your absolute best," Bianca said, reaching for Aldrich's tux jacket and holding it for him while he slipped his arms in. She buttoned the lone front button while Aldrich adjusted the cuffs. Once the two were done, Aldrich reached to a small table where his once discarded clothes were now folded.

"Do me a favour, per favore," Aldrich picked up a small gift bag and handed it to his sister. "Will you give this to Riley for me before we start?"

Bianca grinned and nodded, "See you soon, fratello," before slipping out of the room and going to Riley with the gift, knocking on his door the moment she arrived.

RILEY

Riley was the most nervous and excited he had ever been in his life. Getting married to Aldrich was a dream that he would have happily seen come true at the San Francisco court house, but to be marrying him in one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen was a bonus. He carefully tied his tie, grateful for once that he’d grown up in such a posh family, and looked at himself in the mirror before he put on his suit jacket. It was the nicest suit he’d ever bought by a mile, but his wedding day was well worth it. Everything seemed to be going smoothly so far. He was grateful for it. He was also grateful for Luna and his other friends for their support this day.

Riley took some pictures with the photographer and did some breathing and mediating while he waited to be called out of his room at the villa.

As he heard a knock, he went to open the door. Even without seeing who was on the other side, he knew it wouldn’t be Aldrich. “Hi, Bianca,” he smiled widely at his almost sister-in-law. Riley missed that she was holding something in her hand and immediately asked after his fiancé. “How is Aldrich doing? His feet still warm?”

ALDRICH

When Riley opened the door, Bianca's existing smile grew. "Hi! Oh, do you look handsome! You're going to knock Aldi off his feet." At his question, she answered without hesitation, "He's doing well! I know he's anxious and excited, and I'm pretty sure if his feet were any warmer, he could be another heat lamp out there." She laughed a little at her own joke and then said, "But while he finishes getting ready, he asked if I could bring this to you." She held up the purple gift bag and offered it to her soon-to-be brother-in-law. Bianca was practically bouncing in her heels where she stood, excited for her big brother and for Riley. "What about you? Are your feet nice and warm too?"

RILEY

“Thank you so much! I just wanted to match how stylish I know he will be,” he said looking down at his hand-embroidered black jacket. “Oh, good. That’s so nice to know,” he chuckled. Riley had no doubts that his husband-to-be would be ready for their big day, but he still felt relief. “Thank you,” he grinned at the gift. “My feet could not be warmer if they were made of lava. I would sprint up the aisle and speed though my vows to marry Aldi faster. I love your brother more than anything else in this world.”

ALDRICH

"You're both going to be the best dressed here, which is exactly how it should be." Bianca winked and continued to smile up at him. She giggled hearing Riley share how he would sprint up the aisle. "That would be one unforgettable moment. I know you love him though and I know he loves you. I couldn't be happier that you two found each other." She leaned in to hug him but was doing her best to be careful and mindful not to smudge her make-up on his suit. "I'll leave you to it with your gift and anything you have left to do. But I love you, Riley and I'm so glad to be welcoming you into the family." She blew an air kiss near his cheek to avoid a lipstick smudge and then waved, "See you soon!" and flounced out of the room to give Riley a little more privacy before the ceremony began.

RILEY

"I sure hope so! Though I'm sure Chris will be close behind," Riley laughed. "Thank you so much, Bianca." He hugged her back, not even thinking about the fact that makeup could end up on his jacket if he wasn't careful. "I love you, too. I couldn't be happier to join the family," he beamed. Riley opened the present and thought they were so perfect. He decided to switch out his cufflinks for one of the pairs of new ones along with the tie clip. It made his outfit even better, knowing they were from his almost-husband. The coordinator came by his room a few minutes later to tell him that everything was ready for his first look with Aldrich. He was escorted to a beautiful room they agreed on for photographs, and he turned his back to the door as he waited.

ALDRICH

Bianca had given an agreeing laugh at Riley's comment about Chris. She knew her cousin was notoriously dapper, especially for special occasions. But after hugging and exchanging genuine sentiments with Riley, she left the room to take a seat with her father and younger siblings, feeling genuine bliss for her brother and soon-to-be brother-in-law.

After Bianca had left the room and Aldrich was alone again, he took a few deep breaths, shut his eyes and silently said a prayer. He prayed for his and Riley's marriage, and thanked God for the two of them being able to have this day together. Not long after opening his eyes and making a holy cross gesture from his forehead to his chest, he triple-checked that he looked his best for his fiancé and their big day. The second photographer knocked and let him know that they were ready for their first kook. With a soft smile, Aldrich followed the photographer from the room and to the space within the villa where no one else had been, save Riley, two of the photographers and now, him. Seeing Riley from behind in his black suit had him smiling all over again. The quiet clicks of the cameras barely registered as he neared his husband-to-be and one of the photographers instructed the two of then to reach for each other's hands before the reveal. Aldrich couldn't help glancing down at their hands as he reached forward; he grinned at their intertwined fingers and then lifted his gaze when the photographer cued Riley to turn around with a count of 3.

RILEY

Riley was all jitters as he waited for Aldrich to come into the room, like he drank too much coffee. He bit down on his lip for just a moment when he heard the clicking of the cameras when Aldi walked into the room. He took a shaky breath in and let it out slowly, then reached back when he was told Aldrich was close. He laced their fingers together and grinned. It had felt like they spend a year apart that morning. He didn't care about most of the things couples were supposed to do on a wedding day, because gay people had been excluded from them for so long, but he did agree that they should spend the night before apart and get dressed separately. On the count of three, he turned around and let out a little gasp when he saw his fiancé. "Holy fuck, you look incredible," he smiled and touched the textured jacket before he leaned in to kiss Aldrich. He couldn't help himself.

ALDRICH

Feeling Riley's hand with his was so familiar and deeply comforting, especially after their night apart. But when Riley turned around, his own reaction overlapped his fiancé's with an, "Oh my God, look at you," only for him to laugh a bit at himself. Of course he always thought Riley was handsome, but he especially loved formalwear on his fiancé and today, exceptionally so. His free hand slipped inside Riley's suit jacket to rest on his waist as he met Riley's lips. When they parted, Aldrich murmured, "I missed you last night. You look like a vision, bello." Butterflies were restless in his stomach but being in Riley's presence grounded him like it always did. Tenderly, he rested his forehead to his fiancé's and asked, "Are you ready?"

RILEY

Riley smiled widely, glad Aldrich liked what he was wearing. He wanted to look good for their wedding day, so he went a lot more over the top than he normally would have. He knew there were photographers taking their pictures as they kissed or he probably would have tried pushing it a little further. “I missed you, too. I hate sleeping without you,” he said. Riley was so happy to be back with his fiancé. “I am so ready. Everything in my life has led me to this day with you.”

ALDRICH

"I hate it too," Aldrich admitted. He grinned again but reined it in long enough to peck Riley's lips once more after hearing his answer. "You have my heart forever, Riley," Aldrich promised while saving more for their vows. "I'm ready too," he whispered. He was smiling all over again as he took a step back, taking in his fiancé from head to toe. After a few more shutter clicks of them candidly gazing at each other, followed by some posed photos, the coordinator approached and politely let them know that it was time. Aldrich squeezed Riley's hand and walked with him from the room to join their small wedding party.

The piano and string quintet was concluding a soft, sweet love ballad and transitioning easily into another that was meant for the wedding party. As pairs, their chosen wedding party members made their way down the aisle. Aldrich lifted Riley's hand to kiss it before letting go so that he and Dahlia could follow the procession. While they waited, he watched his short mother reach up to Riley and embrace him in a tight huh, followed by a kiss to each of his cheeks. And although Aldrich hadn't heard it, she whispered her own, "I love you" and welcome to the family to Riley. But he approached and offered her his elbow so that they would be ready to follow Riley and Dahlia down the aisle.

RILEY

Riley just knew their first-look pictures were going to be amazing. His husband-to-be was incredibly gorgeous and photogenic. He just hoped his own face wasn’t too red from blushing and being on the verge of tears-of-joy. Riley thanked the coordinator for telling them it was time, and he gave Aldrich one more small kiss before they separated for the ceremony.

The music shifting to the song meant for them to walk down the aisle to made everything feel even more real. “I love you,” he muttered to Aldrich when he kissed his hand. While they waited, Riley got a tight hug from his almost mother-in-law. Her kind words brought tears to his eyes. He felt more welcome in the Palermo family than his own. The coordinator told him that it was time, and he offered Dahlia his elbow to walk up the aisle. Riley was all smiles as he passed his and Aldrich’s friends and family. He stood straight and watched Aldrich make his way down as well, and he was as subtle as he could be, dabbing tears from his eyes.

ALDRICH

Rather than feeling some happiness in the back of his mind while his main focus had been working and making sure the happy couple had as flawless a wedding as possible, for the first time in his life, Aldrich was able to feel and experience his own swell of joy and anticipation for the future he and Riley were embarking on. For this moment, his work mindset was quiet and unimposing while the rest of him soaked up every thought and emotion gracing his body and soul. And while he was aware of the family and friends surrounding them, his eyes were solely on Riley. Seeing his almost husband dry his eyes poked at Aldrich's own tear ducts but he hadn’t shed any tears. Yet.

Once he was near the end of the aisle, Aldrich kissed his mother's cheeks and guided her to her seat beside his father. He then joined Riley, facing him fully as the musical quintet played into a seamless fading conclusion. Aldrich took both of Riley's hands to hold as Dahlia began, welcoming everyone in English and Italian, and continuing with an alternative to "speak now or forever hold your peace" to the guests, stating instead, "If anyone cannot provide love and support to Riley and Aldrich, I invite you to take this moment to silently release your protests and hindrances now." There were a couple short beats of silence, followed by some small giggles to the statement and clear silence that followed. Aldrich even chuckled a bit and grinned a little longer, even as Dahlia continued on with their declaration of intent, first asking, "Do you, Riley take Aldrich to be your husband? To not only give love, support and understanding, but also to fully accept these things as well?"

RILEY

Riley smiled and took Aldrich’s hands when he joined him, giving them a gentle squeeze. He knew instantly that picking Dahlia to be their officiant was the best choice. He chuckled softly at her alternative to “speak now or forever hold your peace.” It was flawless. Riley nodded at every part of the declaration of intent and smiled at Aldrich, looking into his eyes as he said, “I absolutely do.”

ALDRICH

Aldrich smiled serenely at Riley when he answered Dahlia, and when it was his turn, he replied, "Lo faccio. I do," and returned the gentle squeeze to Riley's hands. Dahlia then shared to the guests that the couple had already exchanged rings, and by wearing said rings, given to each other, they are further symbolizing their vows to remain loving, faithful and true to each other, and that they are both ready and willing to give and receive. And in honor of their Catholic upbringing, Dahlia led a prayer for the couple, praising their example of devotion and asking God to keep them surrounded by those who mean to nourish their love, and to guide them both through a long and happy marriage. At the conclusion and the gentle murmurs of, "Amen," thereafter, Dahlia said, "With that, it is my great pleasure to pronounce Riley and Aldrich now married!" And as she exchanged a gleeful glance between her brother and new brother-in-law, she told them both, "Kiss your husband!"

With a grin, Aldrich said, "You don't have to tell me twice," as Dahlia finished translating the end for their Italian-speaking guests. He stepped to Riley, slipped an arm around his husband's waist and closed his lips in time to meet Riley's pair, head tilting in a passionate kiss.

RILEY

Riley was so happy with the ceremony, and gladly accepted the prayer over their marriage. His issues with organised religion didn’t supersede his desire to be blessed by family and friends. “Husband!” Riley smiled widely and wrapped his arms around Aldrich before kissing him back. “I love you so much,” he muttered against his husband’s lips before they pulled away and walked back up the aisle hand-in-hand. Nothing was going to wipe the smile off his face. “You’re mine forever, amore.”

ALDRICH

"Ti amo sempre," Aldrich replied as they drew back from each other. Their family and friends whooped and applauded for them through the kiss and their trip back up the aisle. Aldrich was in impenetrable bliss the entire time; he grinned at Riley's words that would always be meant only for him. "Freely and gladly, bello," he replied, leaning over to nuzzle his love's cheek as they returned to the venue's interior.

RILEY

Riley walked inside the venue to take more pictures with family and the wedding party. He was so unbelievably happy. Even Roland’s past behaviour toward him didn’t bother him anymore. “Do you think we can sneak away for a few minutes just by ourselves?” Riley asked his husband once they were done with pictures.

ALDRICH

Aldrich gave several hugs and thanked every one of their family and wedding party members they'd taken pictures with. He was thankful Roland wasn't acting out anymore and that he was being cordial towards his husband. After kissing Dahlia's cheeks and thanking her for officiating their wedding so beautifully, he'd turned to Riley and smiled all over again. "Yes. It's our day. And they'll be alright without us for a little bit," he cheekily replied, already eying the stairs.

RILEY

Riley made sure all their family and wedding party members knew how much he loved and appreciated the fact they were at the wedding. He knew a lot of them traveled far with little kids. “Hm, true,” Riley grinned. “And they have cocktails to enjoy,” he said and held his husband’s hand as they walked upstairs. They found a room to go into and Riley just gave Aldrich a lingering kiss followed by a tight hug. “We are married! I’ve never been happier in my whole life.”

ALDRICH

Aldrich happily wandered away with his husband for them to have a private moment, and once they were alone in one of the upstairs rooms, he shut the door. He soon found himself lip locked with Riley and embraced him with all the love he'd been feeling. "We are! I feel the same way, bello. Before today, my happiest day was your answer to the proposal." He knew that still held dear in his heart but today, he was immeasurably happy. With his hands resting around the middle of his husband's back, he looked into his favorite pair of baby blues and said, "You're the love of my life, Riley. I'm so glad that we met back on that island, and for everything that followed."

RILEY

Riley smiled widely. “How could I have said no to that?” He would remember the proposal everyday for the rest of his life. It was unexpected in the loveliest way. Getting to spend the rest of his life with Aldrich was a privilege. He looked into his husband’s eyes and pecked him again. “I’m so glad we met, too. You were so gorgeous. I just had to make sure I got to know you,” he grinned. “When I was young, I feared none of this would be possible for me. But you’re everything I wished for in a partner and more.”

ALDRICH

He grinned, "I'm just glad that you didn't," and softly chuckled to himself. He was plenty hopeful and sure of the timing when he'd proposed but remembered still feeling some nervous butterflies too. Returning the peck, Aldrich told him, "That's how I felt about you too when we first met. It being so easy and fun to talk to you, on top of you being so attractive... I’ve felt like the luckiest person in the universe since then." Hearing Riley's fear from when he was younger and knowing how his parents were, Aldrich moved a hand to his husband's cheek. "I love you so much and your happiness means the world to me." He leaned in to kiss his other cheek, the bridge of his nose, and then his lips again. His hand slipped from Riley's cheek to his chest, resting over the lapel of his tux jacket. "You're all I want and will want," he whispered against his husband's lips.

RILEY

“Never,” he chuckled. “You are so sweet to me. You always have been. I remember you were my saviour when I had an allergic reaction on the island,” he said. Riley closed his eyes as Aldrich kissed his face. “I will spend my entire life trying to make you happy, darling,” he muttered and kissed Aldrich back. They lost a bit of time kissing before Riley pulled back. “Hm, we should probably get back to our party, don’t you think? Don’t want to keep everyone waiting forever.”

ALDRICH

"In sickness and in health, amore. Even if Dahlia didn't ask us about those specifically," Aldrich grinned while remembering when Riley was unwell on the island. He gently gripped Riley's lapel as they kissed but was mildly thankful for his husband having better self-control in that moment than he did. "Va bene. The reception is probably starting soon. And if we stay up here much longer...well... we'll have time to ourselves later." He threaded a set of hands with Riley's and reached for the door to open it for then with his other hand. As the two passed through across threshold, Aldrich leaned in and whispered to Riley, "A lifetime together."

[reidslibrarybook]

My Girl

Couple - Spencer x Fem!reader

Warnings - language, sexual innuendos and lots of them, mentions of sex and orgasm (like twice or three times or something)

Summary - Spencer cannot stop himself from buying things for you which has led to some… unpleasant feelings to arise inside of you.

Category - fluff

Word Count - 2.8k

A/N - why why why did i use that gif lmao, it's just so funny to me. also spencer and cats makes me happy.

masterlist

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—————————————-

Your hand made contact with the cold, metal handle of your door, turning the knob and entering your apartment. Your ears perked up when you heard a familiar mumbling coming from the living room, along with the rustling of cardboard boxes.

You smiled when you walked in to see Spencer and your two kittens balancing themselves on his shoulder and the top of his head— his hair being flattened by the fur babies he insisted on adopting.

He was jotting something down onto a piece of paper on the coffee table, a mess of paper strewn around him. Beside him on the couch was a mountainous pile of clothing and neatly folded columns on the other.

Spencer was examining each article of clothing with his glasses on, bringing it close to his face and giving it a score based on the material.

“Spence?”

He turned around quickly, accidentally sending the cat on his head flying to the wooden floor. He gasped, leaning over to pick her up and pet her gently as an apology.

Spencer stood up and walked over to you. “Hi, love. Welcome home,” he gave you a kiss on your head and walked over to a cupboard in the kitchen— grabbing one of the treat bags and feeding one to both of the cats clinging onto him.

“What are you doing here?” You moved to look at the mess that had compiled in your small living room. Your hand brushed against a cardigan that was most definitely not Spencer’s.

He rushed over and swatted your hand away. “I haven’t looked at that one yet.”

“Spencer. What is going on,” you laugh, rubbing his shoulder and looking over to the paper on the table.

“I bought some stuff for you and I want to make sure it’s the best so I’m going over each one and testing its durability with information I found in a book at the library.”

Your eyes widened. “Some? Spencer, it looks like you bought the contents of a whole store.”

He smiled shyly, blushing. “I might have gotten carried away after Garcia showed me how to use my credit card online.”

You sat down next to him, brushing his hair to the side and kissing the side of his face tenderly. Your cats crawled onto your lap which caused Spencer to frown a bit, but it was quickly remedied when you placed your head onto his shoulder.

He finished the rest of his tests after a couple of minutes, waking you up from your light sleep by wrapping his arms around you. Spencer lifted your face as a gentle smile appeared onto your face, met with a small kiss from his lips.

“What am I going to do with all of these, Spence? I don’t really need new clothes, god forbid a whole new wardrobe.”

He chuckled, “I may have gotten a little too carried away.”

“Mhm, you think?”

He grabbed the cats off of your lap and placed them onto an empty area of the couch. “You have to try them on now.”

“All of them?”

“Yup. I did the hard part, buying all of them. All you need to do now is try them on for me, I want to see what they look like on someone as beautiful as you.”

Your cheeks began to burn with a heat that only Spencer could elicit. He had always been one to compliment others, especially you. It made your heart race and your palms sweat every time he told you you were beautiful or pretty or gorgeous or stunning or too heavenly for the human world.

He was always the one to make you feel like you were the only person in the world.

You sifted through the piles of clothing, a small gasp coming from your lips.

“Spencer,” you lifted up a skimpy set of lingerie that barely covered any part of you with dangly bits whose purpose you didn’t know of, “What is this?”

He leaned over and nipped your ear with his teeth, his breath tickling your neck. “Something I thought we could have some fun with.”

You giggled, “I am not trying that on.”

“You will eventually.”

“Is that so?”

“You weren’t complaining when you were wearing something like this just the other day. Actually, I think you were saying something like ‘Spence. More, please. I need yu-’.”

You turned around and smacked him on the head with the sheer lace as he threw you a dress he bought for you.

Spencer would never stop buying things for you whether it be little knick-knacks or clothes or superfluous things that you had no use for. He loved to drown you in things that he spent his own money on, which made you feel guiltier than you’d like to admit.

He was constantly taking care of you— making sure you remembered to eat after a long day at work or being there for you when you were at your lowest. He did too much for you and you didn’t want to take advantage of a man who had only known the bottom of the universe’s boot.

You laughed and took the dress to the bathroom to change into— he grabbed your hand before you had a chance to make it into the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You scoffed playfully, “I’m going to change into this.”

He smirked, his eyes raking up and down your figure with a mischievous look— a dark glimmer gracing his eye.

“Just change here,” he shrugged without a second thought, as if he didn’t just ask you to strip down to your underwear in front of him.

“I don’t think so,” you looked at him sternly. He stood up from his seat on the couch, the cats purring at their loss of contact.

“Why not?”

“Because we’ll probably end up doing something that I’m way too tired for,” you slowly backed away from him as he started to pick up his pace, picking you up with his arms and throwing you over his shoulder.

You swung your arms around and your legs wrapped around his torso in an instinctual way, making sure that you wouldn’t fall and bring him down with you. “Spencer! Put me down!”

He giggled into your neck, placing small pecks onto your neck and shoulders. “Never!” Spencer continued to swing you around, clinging onto you tightly as his lips met your tender skin.

Spencer placed you down and pushed your face up to meet his. “I will never get tired of seeing you without your clothes on. It’s like I’m with you for the first time every single time.”

Your cheeks began to heat up, biting your lips shyly. “Well, you can see me for the first time another day.”

He pouted, “Why not today?”

“Because I’m tired, Spence.”

He raised his eyebrows, his pupils dilating. “You know, they say that sex often gives many people a boost of energy after a particularly strong orgasm… and we both know that I give you a lot of those.”

“Oh my god, Spencer.”

He looked at you, confused. “What? It’s the truth.”

“I’m going to try on the dress now before you start to give me all the scientific data on how sex can improve my health,” you laughed.

“Alright, go ahead and surrender. You’re only leaving because you know you wouldn’t be able to resist me once I get started on sweet-talking you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I think your head’s gotten too big. Maybe if you redirected the blood flow to someplace else that’s a little lacking I might consider indulging you.”

“Hey!” He ran towards you before you shut the door on his face, panting from the adrenaline pumping in your veins, “I’ll have you know, you’ve told me plenty of times about how ‘big’ I am or how much I satisfy you. I can recount every single time you did if you want me too and I will when you come out of there.”

You laughed, walking away from the door and slipping on the sultry dress he had purchased for you. It was definitely your style, Spencer always had an eye for noticing the tiny details of your closet.

Your eyes flicked to the mirror in front of you, raking up and down your flattering figure after putting on the dress. Spencer really had an eye for this kind of thing because you looked absolutely fucking gorgeous.

You walked out into the living room, seeing Spencer playing with the kittens and a laser pointer— laughing at how they so eagerly followed the little red dot that he controlled. You cleared your throat, Spencer wasted no time turning his head around.

His jaw went slack as his eyes slid around the curves of your body, his tongue poking out slightly every time he looked at your chest. Spencer stood up, walking over to you and placing his hands onto your waist.

“You look beautiful, love.”

“All thanks to you for buying this dress,” you whisper, placing your hands onto his chest.

He shook his head. “Nope. The dress is a nice add-on, you are the one I’m calling beautiful. I’d say the same thing whether or not you were wearing it… though I’d prefer if you weren’t wearing it.”

You smiled, your brows furrowing when he let go of you. He walked back to your side and placed another outfit in your hands, using his to shoo you back into the bathroom to try something else on.

You headed back, excited by his enthusiasm to see you in the things he bought for you. It was a fun process, going back and forth from the living room to the bathroom to show him each article of clothing.

The idea of changing right in the living room to save you from treading through both rooms crossed your mind but you wouldn’t give into him, especially since you still had so much more stuff to go through.

At some point, you were completely over the little fashion show you were putting on for Spencer. He had bought so much that you weren’t even sure if it would be able to fit in the minimal space you had left in your drawers and closet.

When you were finally finished, you were left with nothing but a heavy heart— the guilt from before returning to rest in the center of your chest. It wasn’t a fun feeling since all you wanted to do was enjoy the rare alone time, excluding the presence of your cats, with Spencer without any burdens weighing down on the both of you.

You leaned down to help pick up the mess he had made when he was opening all the packages, your face acting as a mirror to the thoughts circling your head.

He stopped cleaning, looking at you and approaching you slowly. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean,” you replied, keeping your eyes down to concentrate on getting the pieces of paper off your living room floor.

“You’re acting all,” he sighed, “I don’t know...sad? I- I just don’t know what to do to make you happy, Y/N. You avoid going on dates with me whenever I ask you to and don’t enjoy the things I bring home for you. Is there something going on that I don’t know about?”

You raised your head to look at him. “Of course not. Are you implying that I’m cheating on you?”

“Not necessarily. Have you… have you fallen out of love?”

Your eyes widened as you walked to him and took his face into your hands. “Of course not, Spence. I- I would never cheat on you physically or emotionally and I certainly have not fallen out of love.”

“I don’t understand. Wh- what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Spence. For making you feel like you’ve done something wrong because you haven’t. I just felt guilty because you always take care of me, all the time. You buy soooo many things for me and I just don’t want to take advantage of you. A- and you’re also the only one that can really make me happy nowadays and that scares me. I- it scares the hell out of me that I’m so dependent on you to make me feel happy.”

He used his hands to grab onto your torso, lifting you up as he squeezed you as tight as he could without popping you. “Y/N. I buy you things because I want to, not because you make me. I like spending my money on you and I love when you wear the things I buy for you. I- it’s my way of showing how much I care about you. I’ve never really had someone to spoil so you’re my first.”

You smiled. “That’s not the only first I am.”

“Are you implying that you were my first partner in bed?”

“Sure seemed like it,” you giggled.

“Well I can confirm that you were not the first person I had sex with, but you were the first person I made love to.”

Your eyes became glassy as you held back tears. “God, I don’t know how you can make one sentence sound so heartfelt and cheesy at the same time.”

“Well I am a jack of all trades,” he teased.

You wrapped your hands around his neck to pull him closer to you as he placed his forehead on yours until your faces were only inches apart. “As much as I appreciate your love language that has taken form in your online shopping addiction, you really need to stop buying things for me.”

“Let me spoil you, love.”

You laughed, pushing him off teasingly. “You’re my boyfriend, not my sugar daddy.”

He clung to your back as you continued to clean up the living room. “Why can’t I be both… add another bullet point to my long list of impressive titles.”

You raised your eyebrows in skepticism. “And what are these impressive titles,” you probed.

“Mmmm, let’s see. I’ve got… boyfriend, man of your dreams, foolproof orgasm deliverer, love of your life, pussy cleaner, prince charming, your handsome Spencer…”

You placed your hands across his mouth to shield your virgin ears, although not really since he loved to whisper dirty things in your ears no matter where you were or how inappropriate the setting was. He continued listing off titles that most likely had something to do with sex or orgasms. You couldn’t see the bottom half of his face but there was no doubt the nasty bastard was smirking into your hand.

You only released your grip on his mouth after he licked the palm of your hand.

“What the hell, Spence.”

He grabbed you and started kissing all over your face. “I could do that to you, maybe near the southern part of you, if you wanted me to.”

Small giggles fell from your lips as his stubble tickled your face. You could do nothing but gasp slightly at how close he was to your collarbone and the sensitive part of your body.

He pulled away abruptly, padding towards the couch. Spencer picked up the two little fur balls and walked into your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

You looked at him, completely jarred. “What was that?”

“They’re too innocent to see what’s about to take place.”

A small grin graced your lips. “Who said something was about to take place.”

“Your moans did,” he teased, “But maybe let’s do something a little more PG tonight… if that’s alright with you.”

“What do you mean ‘if that’s alright with me’, you’re the one who’s so adamant on getting me to undress in front of you.”

He turned away from you and headed towards the record player that he splurged on while he was at an antique store in Los Angeles on a case, dropping one of his favorite records in. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

You were about to snap back at him when the song he so shamelessly sang to you on your first date filled the room, ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations.

He grabbed your hands and led you to the largest open area in the living room, swaying back and forth as you rested your head against your chest. You couldn’t help but smile when the sound of his horribly tone-deaf voice echoed in his chest.

“I've got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May,” he sang.

He used the finger to lift your chin up, continuing to sing his heart out regardless of how hard you laughed at him. “I guess you'd say, what can make me feel this way? My girl. Talkin' 'bout my girl.”

The two of you continued laughing together at his noteworthy, off-tune singing and the way he’d stumble over your feet as he twirled you around. He loved you, nothing could change your mind about that. Spencer made everything easy for you no matter how your mind overcomplicated things. You knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were his girl.

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[jameui]

MOVIE DATE

PAIRING: Hwang Hyunjin x Manager!M!Reader

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNING: Hyunjin being a jerk

SUMMARY: You boyfriend, Hyunjin took you out on a date to watch your favorite movie.

You sighed in exhaustion and as if the world was trying to test you, a fast running bicycle came your way causing you to jump to the side, so fast that you forgot about the takeouts you had in your hands and at a blink of an eye the neatly boxed items fell to the ground, all the food now spilled on the floor with your eyes widening in fear. "Shit!" You yelled out and tried to get back to the restaurant again, but as soon as you got there the line was already long and it'd take you ages to get to the counter to order, again.

You were at your way to your work with your phone squeezed in between your shoulder and ear as you talked to your co-manager on the other line who seemed agitated for your tardiness, while you tried to balance the foods you were made to order. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure that won't happen again." You told the male before the call was cut short when he decided to hang up all of a sudden.

Looking around, you saw a chinese restaurant that had the smallest line, so you went there and bought the food there, even though the orders of the group was not exactly what they wanted for you to buy. You just couldn't go back empty handed.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the venue of the fansign event and got there just in time before Stray Kids were called to the stage for their activity to be done, but the moment you got there you saw that the people present were already eating their food away. They noticed your presence entering the room whilst their head turned to look at you. "I... Good morning, everyone." You greeted them. 'Guess their manager got their food delivered.'

You didn't get a reply, except from the group who was more than happy to see that you had food on your hands. "Hyung! Thank God. I was starving." The group's youngest, Jeongin said as he helped you put the foods down on the table. "You're seriously a life saver."

You smiled at him giving him a muttered thanks that earned you a smile from Jeongin. Honestly speaking, Jeongin was the second best person you ever liked in the group, the first being Lee Felix since he was the only person to ever approach you on your first day since he was able to see how much you were so nervous. Felix was also one of the members who taught you korean, the other being Bang Chan. You had always knew the group back then, and now and you were damn thankful that you got the opportunity to be in their circle.

Knowing how young you were to be working for them, they treated you nicely, not because they needed to, rather cause it was in their nature to be caring. Well, at least except one person. You were the closest to Felix who treated you like his personal manager and a friend as well, going out on friendly dates with you to the park, dog cafés, just anywhere Felix would find interesting to visit.

Who's the person that seemed irritated whenever you were around you ask? Why, the one and only visual king, Hwang Hyunjin. He doesn't actually treat you bad, but the way his eyes would always turn dark or displeased when you show up in his line of sight made you feel so small and felt totally unwelcomed. That was then, apparently, since today the male looked a little too quiet and didn't even bother to look at you. Believe me or not that's actually the kindest thing he's done to you.

You would try to go to him to try and talk to him, worried by his silence. You just furrowed your brows and sighed completely aware that no matter how much you try to talk to him he won't even dare to acknowledge you being there for him.

"M/n, are you just gonna stand there? Come and eat." Chan told you, but you just politely declined his offer with the shake of your head before telling him that you had just taken your breakfast and that you were full, more and you feel like your stomach's gonna burst. "Hm, suit yourself, but I'll be leaving mine untouched, so you can eat it when you get hungry, yeah?"

"You're so kind, Chan." You gave him a smile that got Chan smiling also showing his deep dimples that you could just dive in it anytime soon.

"Hey, hey, hey! We've known each other the longest. Why do I still have to call you 'hyung' and M/n doesn't?" Jisung, one of the group's rapper, pouted with folded arms as Chan chuckled before ruffling the kid's hair that Jisung angrily shook off.

"Well, since he's not that spoiled, unlike you." Chan answered Jisung who gasped dramatically. "And he also gained my permission, so—"

"Whenever or not he's around, is he the only person that ever comes into your mind?" That all too familiar voice spoke out, all your heads turning towards the person. He scoffed and stood up with a smirk on his face, probably in disbelief that the whole group was talking to you and always thought about you. "I mean, come on. There's gotta be something else to talk about other than this... person." You felt his eyes look at you while your eyes stared at him with rising anger. "There's sports, other artists, songs, music, so many and you chose to pick him as the topic of your talk."

"Hyunjin, that is very disrespectful." Chan gritted out, but Hyunjin knew better than to listen or to even stop.

"I'm really not, hyung." Hyunjin's smirk grew wider eyeing you with a suspicious look on his eyes. An idea popped in his head as he opened his mouth to talk. "But, if you want to, I could show you how disrespectful I can get." Without any warning, he took the take-out container and bottled drink in his hand and gave you no second to react as he poured all of its contents onto your head with a loud gasp coming out of you. "There. I'll call it a masterpiece even."

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Bang Chan's voice boomed through the whole room a still smirking Hyunjin turning around to face the older male who was fuming with anger. "You—"

"Chan!" You called out to him before things got a little out of hand. For pete's sake their going to just fight because Hyunjin had made a mess of you? You were not even worth the fight. "No. I'm fine. I can just quickly change, that's all. I'll be right back and I better get no reports about you two fighting." You told the two, Chan rolling his eyes.

You got out of the room and ran as fast as you can to the nearest restroom, cleaning yourself as soon as you arrived. Times like this you would immediately bawl your eyes out, but with the constant behavior that Hyunjin showed to you, you grew used to it. Heck, you even sometimes feel that the other boys only act like they liked you being there and when you weren't, they'd stab you behind your back. "Goodness, why won't this get off."

"Need help?" A raspy voice came from the entrance of the restroom, turning your head around to see Felix leaning himself on the door frame with his arms crossed, then untangled them to let his hands rest inside his pockets and stepped inside as you smiled at him. "Do you need more tissue?"

You shook your head at him, your attention back on your stained favorite shirt wiping them clean with the tissues the place's restroom owned. "Nah, there's plenty here. Besides, I'm all dried up now." You said and showed yourself to him, Felix knitting his brows in worry.

He seeped air through his teeth and cocked his head to the side, unsure if you should be wearing that now dirty shirt when you'd be with them during the activity the whole time. "I don't think you should be wearing that."

"Why? It's my favorite sweater." You chuckled half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I know, M/n, but it's dirty. Plus, I think it gets pretty uncomfortable seeing that stain on your shirt and it gets sticky. Yeugh." Felix pretended to barf which got you laughing softly. Felix, though not trying to be funny, whatever he does it always seemed so funny to you.

"Fine, fine. I'll go change, the problem though is that I didn't bring an extra shirt with me today." You told Felix scratching your nape.

"Really? Well, I guess we have to borrow from one of the group's." Felix suggested, but your eyes grew sizes bigger upon hearing that and waved your hands.

"No way, Felix! I have already done enough damage, I can't afford to borrow a shirt from one of the members, or to you even." You told him, but it all fell on deaf ears as Felix refused to listen. "I'm just trouble, Felix. You don't have to worry about me."

Felix hummed with two fingers pinching his chin gently. "Yeah, I don't think so." He took your wrist and started to drag you back to the dressing room. "Come on, I know there's someone willing to let you borrow a shirt." You just sighed, knowing that Felix won't even dare to change his mind when he had already set them on something.

Alas, as you two got there, none of the members even had a spare shirt to let you borrow. They were very willing and even tried to look around if there was anything, but to no avail. Although, there was one last person you didn't ask. "Hyunjin. You were the cause of this mess, you let him borrow your shirt." Felix sternly told the older male who pilled his brows together.

"What?! No way! Are you telling me I'd offer to do something for that guy? No!" Hyunjin retorted making Felix growl.

Felix was so ready to throw punches at the male who didn't seem to be bothered by the situation, but you just put a hand on Felix's shoulder and assured him. "That's alright, Felix. My sweater was thick enough to not get my undershirt wet. Although, I'm grateful for your effort." You smiled at him and sighed.

Just in time, you heard a call from one of your co-manager that the group was already being requested to be at the stage right now. You gave them an encouraging smile as they all did the same. "Alright boys. It's time to go out there and meet millions of your fans."

The group all shouted, excluding Hyunjin, hurray and hurried out to get on stage, you following behind after you were able to discard your sweater, leaving you only on your black t-shirt. You shivered at the cold now that you were left with a thin clothing that wasn't appropriate for the type of weather you were having and not mention that the place was fully air-conditioned.

Your shaking was not too evident, but one of the members, Seungmin, was able to notice it. Feeling pity he made his way to Hyunjin and tried to convince him. "Jinnie, M/n's cold. Please lend him your jacket, at least. He'll get sick if he continues to get exposed to the cold."

"Better for him."

"Hyunjin, please... Besides, you're already wearing thick layers of clothes why not let M/n borrow." Seungmin reasoned out and solemnly knitted his brows to persuade the male, Hyunjin rolling his eyes at his bestfriend and huffed before taking his jacket off of him and handed it over to Seungmin who silently squeaked. "Thanks, Hyunjin." Hyunjin brushed it off with a 'whatever', the younger of the two jogging his way towards you and gave you the jacket he got from Hyunjin. "I noticed your shivering, so I want you to take this jacket and no, you can't say you can't accept it."

You nodded your head at him and took the jacket from his hands. "Thank you, Seungmin."

"My pleasure." He smiled at you with those puppy dog like smile. He skipped back to reunite with his group while you put on the jacket that Seungmin offered you. You were still in thought though how Seungmin was able to convince Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket. You knew Hyunjin owned the jacket since he wouldn't let them go since the moment you arrived.

You noticed how the jacket was too big for you, since the sleeves of the piece of clothing only let your fingers peek out through the holes while the flaps reached further down your hips, but it totally felt cozy and smelled like... Hyunjin. How do you explain it? You don't even know where to begin. It was him. The reason why you wanted to work with Stray Kids. You didn't want to look like you were some type of stalker, but all you ever wanted was to befriend Hyunjin.

The befriending process didn't go the way you actually thought it would go. Everytime his eyes met yours or you heard his voice you'd get all flustered and so nervous that your tongue always gets tied, the words you want to tell him gets trapped inside your mouth. It all started to be just an admiration towards the slightly older male until your determination to become his friend gradually became an unknown feeling towards Hyunjin, until realizing later that you actually liked the group's rapper, despite all his bad treatment towards you.

Back to reality, you hugged yourself and took in the wonderful scent the artist gave off until one of your co-worker nudged you. "Hey, stop sniffing the clothes. You totally look like a sasaeng."

"W-what? I wasn't sniffing anything." You denied it earning an eye roll. Later, you heard the whole place bursted into shouts of joy and excitement as Stray Kids made their appearance on the stage greeting all their fans inside and outside of the place. They all took their turns taking the mic to express their happiness and gratefulness to their ocean of fans that filled up the whole place.

Soon, the group was seated at a long rectangular table that was a perfect fit letting all the members seat on their respective seats. There were chairs as well settled in front of the table with each settled across a specific member.

You were appointed to keep guard and stand behind Hyunjin, in any case of fans throwing shade at him or any forms of harm or hate towards the member who had just been caught up in a supposed bullying rumor.

The line started to form as people who were present inside the place took their turns to talk to each member and get a sign from them. So far, you could only wonder how paranoid the company was to keep you on guard of Hyunjin when all these people here are Stays and they wouldn't do such thing to throw hate to any members in the group. Right?

The line was still too long to be gone in just minutes making you sigh, hearing your tummy rumble hoping that no one heard that. You now finally regret not eating that noodles that Chan offered you, the hunger finally hitting your system as your tummy continued to grumble. You pursed your lips and forced your eyes closed while you brought your head down in embarrassment. 'Fuck... why now?'

After a short while, the line was starting to get shorter and shorter, you thanking the heavens for the fast passing by of the time. But, the moment you least expected to happen happened. You felt a harsh tap on your legs and another and another after it finally took your attention, getting a little shocked that the action was done by the person who hated you the worst. "Take it before I change my mind." He told you. You complied and bowed at him politely as he tuts his tongue. "Who would even think of going to work on an empty stomach?"

'You... poured it on me?' You thought then shrugging it off before you looked at the treat offered to you by Hyunjin. You wondered what type of bread it was and hesitated, although Hyunjin's back was facing you he was able to sense your hard time on trying to eat what he gave you.

"It's not poisoned, M/n." He whispered as he signed the album that had his photo on it, then looking up at the fan who would like to talk to him.

Their talk wasn't audible to you, but you opened the packaging of the nicely wrapped pastry and bit on it with your body facing the wall so your back was turned against the people to cover yourself while you ate. One of your co-manager did notice your unwanted behavior and stomped his way to you and took the baked good from your hands and threw it to the ground to step on it and crush it good. "What do you think you're doing, L/n?! You're being inappropriate right now." He gritted out to you with a small voice almost like a whisper so no one else would hear you two. You bowed your head subtly before a hand was placed right below your chin as you looked up at him confused. "Spit." He ordered, referring to the food you were chewing.

You nod your head and spit out the food that was in your mouth into his hand while he picked up the wasted food and left, then threw it all at a trash can. "Fuck." You sighed as you held your chest and slowly turned around to face the non-existent line, the group now interacting with their fans.

Just looking at them now, you were able to remember when you were the one who was there seated at the chairs shouting out the name of the person you would call as your bias, which is no other than Kim Seungmin. At least, when you still didn't take the job to be one of the group's manager. Usually, it would only take one manager to manage the group, but why did this group require another one? You questioned yourself. It was all unexplained to you, but all you gotta do was to just be glad that you get to be friends with the people you see as your role models.

"Hyunjin-ah! When did you start trading jackets with your manager?" The question came out as a shout that got everyone laughing, including the group. You were only able to chuckle knowing that it was Seungmin who convinced Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket.

Hyunjin didn't get to answer the question, when another fan spoke from the crowd that got every fans' attention. "Are rumors true that you don't treat Manager L/n well?"

Chan furrowed his brows and picked up his microphone. "Where did you get this story?" He chuckled trying to make it sound that it wasn't true and just pure bluff. Chan looked at Hyunjin with the face that told Hyunjin that he should start treating you well if he didn't want the netizens to know about his treatment towards you. "Anyways, it's seriously not true."

-----------

A few minutes later and the event was finally finished and the group was bidding their goodbyes to their fans as they started to walk backstage. You waited for them at their waiting room with a handful of bottled waters for the boys to pick up once they get inside. The door soon opened revealing the group with a tense atmosphere following them that got you so confused. "Hey—"

"Hyunjin. If word gets out about your mistreatment to M/n, that would be a serious damage to our image and to M/n as well, 'cause he's obviously in pain because of you!" Chan yelled at the trouble causing male who only rolled his eyes paying no heed to his warning.

"Atleast, I never went too far as to really hurt him physically." Hyunjin deadpanned Chan growling at his response. Your eyes flickered to Hyunjin, then to Chan not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You are seriously being a jerk right now, Hyunjin." Chan fumed in anger while Hyunjin just continued to act deaf and played on his phone. Chan, giving up, sighed and plopped down on his seat. "Ayayay."

They took turns in getting your glances as you thought of a way to calm the atmosphere. You had already been their manager for a over a year now and this was the only time that Hyunjin ever spoke up to Chan and, to top it off, with sass and without the slightest feeling of being bothered. That was the moment you felt like you had enough. You've had enough with all these things. You were tired of yourself to even think that Hyunjin would finally soften up to you and be his friend. You were wrong to even apply for this kind of job. The group wouldn't be fighting if it hadn't been for you appearing in their lives all so suddenly. "Guys... let him do as he pleases. I'll be the one to take of whatever the netizens hear."

Chan raised his eyes up at you with furrowed brows. "What do you plan on doing? Whatever it is don't do it."

You smiled and nodded. "I won't, Chan." You held up the bottles in your hands and turned on a toothy smile. "Water? Anyone?" They all sighed in relief and got their turns in picking their own bottled water, the last one not being picked up by Hyunjin, so you decided to give it to him. You brought the cold drink to his face making him flinch as he looked up at you. "Thank you for the bread, by the way." You told him and giggled. "I've already packed your jacket in your bag." You informed him and patted his back.

The once crazily terrifying atmosphere now turned into a more comfortable one, the one you always would want to see. You didn't know what got you the courage to speak or blurt out whatever you had in your mind, but you looked at Hyunjin and said: "Hyunjin, can I talk to you privately?" Thankfully, their loud voices was able to distract themselves from hearing your request to Hyunjin who sighed and nodded his head. He stood up from his seat and started to move outside of the room. You followed behind closely, feeling intimidated by the month older's tall figure. "Hyunjin..."

"Cut to the chase, M/n. I don't have much time." He told you as you nod your head in understanding and fiddled with your fingers.

"I know, you'd probably like hearing this, but could I have the permission to quit as your group's manager?" You asked him, his forehead creasing that made him pull his brows together. "I was able to notice what the group had become the moment I became your manager—"

"And do you think quitting would change it?" Hyunjin asked you with a raised brow. "If anything, it'd probably—no, it would break their hearts to know that you quitted. If you do so, you're not only quitting as a manager, but as their friend as well."

"And you're able to say that after you purposely tried to have me fired or suspended from work by offering me that bread?" You sarcastically answered, Hyunjin clearing his throat.

"Well... that wasn't my intention. I didn't even know it'd get you fired." Hyunjin replied making you chuckle.

"Yeah..." You replied with a sad smile. "But, I don't wanna be the reason why you and Chan would always fight. Stray Kids is Stray Kids because they're fun and loving, caring. And I don't want to change that by being around the group." Hyunjin never replied anymore and you sighed. "I'm heading back now." You said and as you started to walk back inside, Hyunjin spoke.

"I wish you never entered our life, at all, M/n." He told you that got your heart broken into pieces. Sure, you admitted that he never liked you even just a bit, but him saying it so bluntly to you, it's like he does really mean it and could only care less. You were about to speak when Hyunjin beat you to it. "If so, I wouldn't be able to garner these undeniable feelings I have for you."

You froze. Were you hearing right? You just cleaned your ears this morning, well you do it everyday. Is your ear trying to play with you? "W-what?"

"DAMN! WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT?!" You gasped with your mouth full of popcorn, your boyfriend, Hyunjin seated beside you at the movie theater. He smiled at you admiring how cute you looked with your shocked expression that was being illuminated by the big screen. "Jinnie! Look, they're gonna kiss! AH!!" As the two actors in the movie was about to kiss, one of the movie's cast bursted out of the door cutting the kiss and earned a few 'oh's and 'I hate you, Chan's. "Chan is such a cock blocker."

"Watch your mouth, babe." Hyunjin told you making you pout.

"It's true, though!" You retorted and Hyunjin could only laugh at your cuteness and honest opinions.

[shedobewritingalittle]

Golden

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader and Bucky go through different stages of the Reader’s pregnancy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, giving birth

Two Months

Y/N had been mulling over how she was going to tell him since she found out a week ago. She had thought her anxiousness and worries would have faded away after she saw those two little lines on the test. No, they had only increased ten-fold, only worsening when she went to her doctor and got an official test. Her stomach tossing and turning when the doctor told her that she's been pregnant for eight weeks. Y/N was now stuck with the most important and difficult part of this whole thing-telling Bucky Barnes that she was pregnant with his baby.

How does one tell an over one hundred year old super soldier that they're going to be a father?  Getting a tiny Brooklyn Dodgers onesie made? Too cliché. Make some awful pun themed dinner that might include "buns in the oven"? Might go over his head. Hand him the sonogram that she had gotten after the pregnancy test just to be sure? He's from the forties, what the fuck is he going to know about a sonogram?

Y/N was terrified over he was going to react. Bucky was barely getting used to the world, barely getting used to having control of his own mind. And while he had been doing a lot better and he makes sure to take care of himself, Y/N didn't know how he would handle the stress of a baby. Did he even want to be a dad? Y/N didn't even know if she wanted to be a mom, but she know that somehow it felt right. They've never even talked about having children and now-well they were sort of past the point of thinking about having kids.

The whole situation made her want to vomit, and she was pretty sure it wasn't just from the morning sickness.

Y/N eventually landed on telling him over dinner. Nothing too fancy, just the usual place they always go to so that Bucky wouldn't think anything was up. All day long as she sat through meeting after meeting, her date got closer and closer, and that dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach grew with every second. Y/N felt like she was going to vomit by the time she met up with her boyfriend back at their apartment. Luckily, Bucky talks the entire car ride to the restaurant, complaining about something Sam did that day. She uses her training for good, covering up her nervousness with a neutral face.

They made their regular small talk as they sit in the back of the restaurant at their usual table. Y/N orders her usual lemonade while Bucky orders a Coke. They share a basket of bread and Y/N hopes that the carbs soak up the acid that keeps threatening to rise up her throat. Each time she wants to bring up her news, their waitress would come up with refills, an E.T.A on their food, or just to ask how they were doing. And each time, Y/N would glare daggers at her back once she was turned around to walk away.

Then their respective plates of pasta were placed in front of them. Bolognese for Bucky, arrabbiata for Y/N. While usually she immediately dives into her plate, the way her stomach is twisting and turning, she's unable to eat. Y/N pushes her pasta around with her fork as she works up the courage to talk to him. She just didn't know how to say it. All she knew is that she had to say it. Y/N puts down her fork, moving to wipe her now sweaty hands on the cloth napkin on her lap as she looks up at him. Bucky was raising a pasta laden fork up to his mouth as she opened hers.

"I'm pregnant." She finally blurts out. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, barely audible over the noise of the other guests at the restaurant. She was afraid that he couldn't hear her, afraid that she was going to have to say it again. But by the way Bucky's eyes widen, she knew that he had heard her loud and clear. He lowers his fork, mouth opening and shutting.

"I-What? You're-What?" The super soldier asks, looking from her face to her stomach and back to her face. Y/N felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach, the blood draining from her face.

"I-I'm pregnant. I found out last week." Y/N manages to get out, still looking down at her plate. Her eyes started to sting and she tried to blink her eyes rapidly in order to keep her tears at bay. Bucky's silence is deafening and Y/N wishes she could run out of the restaurant, but it's like she's glued to the chair. She wants him to say something-anything, but he is silent. Y/N is about to say something when he holds his hands up, almost in defense.

"Wait. I-I don't want you to be upset. I'm not mad-I just don't know how to put my feelings into words. I'm happy. I'm really happy. I just-You know I'm not good with words." Bucky finally speaks, stumbling over his words. Her eyes widen and she quickly looks up at him.

"I-Really?" Y/N asks, the knot her stomach slowly unraveling. Bucky nods, a small smile appearing on his face. This time the tears that are filling her eyes from happiness.

"I'm not going to pretend that I know anything about babies or raising a child, but I'm sure I can figure it out." Bucky jokes, his metal hand fiddling with his utensils on the table. Y/N feels a million times better, a huge weight being lifted off of her shoulders. He looks up at her again, "I'm happy, Y/N. I am."

"Me too. Me too."

-

Four Months

As Y/N walked into her apartment, the only thing on her mind was kicking her shoes off, taking off her bra that was digging into her sides, and taking a much deserved nap. Her meeting had ended early and with Rhodey not needing help with anything, she had decided to return to her apartment. Yet, with not even a foot inside of the apartment, she was immediately greeted with an argument.

"No, what I am saying is you're painting wrong." Bucky snaps, which makes Y/N's eyebrow raise. Her boyfriend wasn't in sight, but he certainly was in the apartment somewhere. She sets her things down, walking over to where the arguing is coming from.

"How the hell can I be painting wrong? I'm putting paint on the wall. The wall is getting painted." Sam fires back and Y/N has to force herself to not laugh, covering her mouth. She stands in the doorway of the guest room, taking in the sight in front of her. The floor and furniture was covered in plastic tarp, blue painting tape lining the white molding and outlets. Painting supplies littered the room and standing in the middle of all of it were two idiots, both of them holding paint rollers covered in a light sage green paint.

"I'm sorry-what's going on here?" Y/N questions, motioning to the two of them and the mess in the room. Their heads snapped towards her, nervous smiles spreading across their faces. They looked like two kids that have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Hey doll-uh fuck-surprise." Bucky announces a little defeatedly while Sam gives a one handed jazz hand. Y/N laughs, carefully stepping into the room as the 106 year old man tries to explain, "I-We were going to surprise you by painting the room. Why are you home so early?"

"My meetings ended early and I am extremely surprised. Thank you and thank you too, Sammy." Y/N says sweetly, smiling at the two of them. Bucky lets out a sigh of relief and Sam chuckles. While the men may not see eye to eye all of the time, Sam has been a great help to both of them. The man had some knowledge about babies and children, being the proud uncle to two little boys, and he had been trying his best to put some of Bucky's worries at ease.

"I'm just trying to be a really great uncle." Sam teases, which makes the super soldier roll his eyes.  Bucky didn't have any living siblings and Y/N's teammates were the closest thing she had to family so it was going to be Uncle Sam, Uncle Rhodey, Auntie Pepper, Auntie Wanda, and so on and so forth. Their little patchwork support system that they were incredibly grateful for.

"Do you two need any help? I can't because I am pretty sure I'm not supposed to be inhaling paint fumes. But I can give Peter a call, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Y/N offers, grinning from ear to ear. She knows that both men weren't exactly best friends with Peter Parker, both of them having gotten their asses handed to them by a teenager. Y/N didn't have any issues with the kid, hell she talked to him on a weekly basis. He reported to her every Friday, filling Y/N on his week. While it had first started as him telling her what Spider-Man did, it soon turned into a three hour long meeting that included take out while he filled her in the weekly drama and tales of him and his two friends. And every Friday when she would return to the apartment, Sam and Bucky would greet her by calling her traitor.

"Jesus-No, we are okay doll. I think we can manage, right Sam?" Bucky asks, looking at the other man. Sam just nods, holding his paint covered roller a little higher.

"Yeah yeah I think we will be okay. This room will be done in no time."

-

Seven Months

Y/N watched from her seat at the kitchen island as Bucky moved around the kitchen, attempting to make dinner.

Y/N had been put on bed rest due to the fact that the Super Serum that had affected Bucky's DNA was causing the baby to grow at an accelerated rate. Seeing that this is going to be the first baby born with the serum (that they know of), the doctor wanted Y/N to be cautious.

Bucky, had taken the doctor's words incredibly seriously, going so far as to not even let make any food, like he is doing now.

"Bucky, baby, I can help you, y'know." Y/N tells him as Bucky attempted to follow a fairly simple recipe for marinara sauce. It was already going south pretty fast. He hadn't bought the right type of tomatoes and hadn't chopped nearly enough garlic. She kept herself from micromanaging the whole thing, but it was getting harder and harder to do so.

"Doll, I used to make dinner for me and my sister. I think I can handle this." He replies, setting the knife he was using to chop up the yellow onion aside. He scoops up the onion in his hands, moving to toss it into the big pan on the stove. The onions sizzle as soon as it hits the olive oil covered surface of the pan.

When Y/N had told Bucky she was craving pasta, she had kind of meant that they would just pick something up. Bucky had decided that he would make the meal himself and Y/N, once she saw how excited he was, didn't have the heart to tell him that she had wanted take-out.

It was actually sort of sweet, seeing him trying to hard to make this meal for her. All he wanted to do is take care of her, take care of their baby. She loved cooking for him for the same reason. It was a way to show her love, to show how much she cared about him and he just wanted to do the same.

"Alright, Barnes. I believe in you." Y/N responds, smiling at him. She just watched as he cooked (and occasionally danced to the jazz music that was playing on the record player). It didn't matter if the meal sucked, Bucky was just trying his best to take care of his girlfriend and their child.

But for the record, the meal did suck.

-

Eight Months

It was a sight, seeing them together.

Bucky held their daughter close to his chest, bouncing her carefully as the light started to filter through the blinds of her hospital room. A smile was stretched across his tired face as he moved from side to side, cooing to her softly. His hair was a mess, his clothes incredibly wrinkled. The morning light surrounded the two like a halo and if Y/N could, she'd take a picture of them. A picture of her family.

Their daughter had been born a month early, which wasn't too surprising considering with how fast she had been growing. Although it was a shock when Y/N's water broke the night before while they were sleeping. Then Y/N had spent most of yesterday in labor, finally giving birth to their sweet baby girl-Rebecca Natalia Barnes, named after Bucky's little sister and Y/N's best friend-in the evening. Bucky had started crying when Y/N had told him that she had wanted to name their daughter after his sister, not thinking that Y/N would have wanted to pay tribute to his long dead sister.

"Look Rebecca, mommy's awake." Bucky says softly, looking over to where Y/N was laying in her bed. The Super Soldier grinned at her, still rocking their child. Y/N smiled at the two of them, shifting on the bed so she can sit up a bit more as her boyfriend walked over. She looks up at the two, her heart swelling with the way Bucky looks holding their daughter.

"Hi baby." Y/N says hoarsely, the bundle of pink shifting and squirming in Bucky's arms. She holds her arms out, silently asking if she can hold Rebecca. Bucky carefully places the newborn into her arms before he pulls the plastic chair closer to the bed, not wanting to be too far from either of them.

"I can't believe she's actually here." Y/N announces softly, taking in every detail of her daughter's face in the early morning light. She had Bucky's blue-gray eyes and his nose, but her hair. It felt weird to see her, felt weird to be holding her. Y/N felt like she was dreaming, but the pain she had gone through the night before-the pain she was still feeling now-had made it real.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Bucky asks, looking at mother and child interacting. Y/N nods, tears filling her eyes as she looks down at her daughter. She presses her lips against Rebecca's forehead, taking in that baby smell that every parenting book seemed to mention. Bucky is still smiling, looking at the two, "My two beautiful girls."

Hours from now, the hospital room would be filled with friends what were more likely family, wanting to share this incredibly special moment with the Y/L/N-Barnes family. Rebecca would be introduced with her aunts and uncles, each one of them getting a chance to hold and introduce themselves to the newborn.

But for now, for now, the three of them were alone. The three of them sat together in this room, all getting used to each other. Nothing else existed outside of this room, nothing else mattered outside of this room. All that mattered was that they were together.

[closedafterdark]

Two Way Ticket

Lee Saerom & Noh Jisun x Male Reader

9441 words

categories: smut, oral, mommy kink

Read on AFF

Eight months have passed since your rendezvous with Gyuri. Nakyung made sure to keep you and Saerom well informed about the clinic’s subsequent move and how her boss was coping. You were thankful she was able to be there for Gyuri during difficult times. Things between you and Saerom were beginning to get a lot more serious: from opening a joint bank account to purchasing your first car together. Even her dog Yeoreum has grown accustomed to you, often spending time on your lap more - something that has made your girlfriend jealous on more than one occasion.

With each passing day, Saerom’s beauty continued to flourish. You wanted to preserve these memories - bringing your camera each time you two went out, something she didn’t seem to mind at all. Saerom knew how to perfectly blend simplicity with confident elegance. She chose to embrace the warmer weather by wearing a simple white crop top that showed off the curvature of her breasts and abs that were the result of many long hours at the gym. Her skirt was brown with what splatter marks decorating it. It ended just slightly below her cute buttcheeks, showing off her long, creamy muscular legs. Her white fuzzy coat appeared out of place, yet perfectly complemented her outfit at the same time. Saerom’s chosen accessories to complete the look were large pearl earrings and a necklace you gifted her on your very first anniversary together. Garnering the stares from men and women alike, you were proud to call Saerom your girlfriend.

Leading you by the hand, you passed many alleyways and streets. Telling you to trust her, you could tell Saerom was smiling through her homemade mask as her eyes formed inverted half crescents. With the two of you continuing on, you noticed two large bright red doors which led to red staircases below and artificial grass on either side. It looked like the establishment was still stuck in Christmas while the rest of the area were enjoying a fine spring May afternoon. Letting go of Saerom’s hand, you stopped and wanted to take a photograph. Not even a second after you had taken a third photo, she grabs the camera from you and wags her finger. Wearing the lens straps on her neck, she takes your hand once more and gives you a firm squeeze. The two of you walk for several more minutes until you finally reach your destination.

--

The aroma of coffee and baked pastries filled your noses as you arrived at Saerom’s favorite cafe. She discovered it after the two of you first decided to live together and moved to a new neighborhood. Due to being a regular customer, the entire staff knew who she was - all of them greeting her warmly before subsequently doing the same to you. Deciding to strike up a conversation with a few of the baristas, you took the opportunity to take her bag and find a table for the two of you. With most already being occupied, you luckily managed to find one that was mostly secluded. It was almost hidden in a sense, probably a spot most employees go to for peace and quiet. You took out your phone and began going through it, looking to pass time. Opening the photo app allowed you to view the candid shots you captured of your girlfriend. You stood firm on your belief that no camera lens could truly capture Saerom’s beauty.

The first photoset was one you took of Saerom at a bookstore. She was casually flipping through the pages of a book you didn’t get a chance to ask her the title of. The mole just below her left eye was something you found extremely cute - if concentrations of pigment-producing cells could be classified as such. Her smoky eyeshadow complimented her complexion wonderfully, making her eyes stand out even more. The next photoset was at a high-end boutique, with Saerom emerging from the curtains as she presents yet another outfit to you. At that point, you had lost count of just how many she tried on. Saerom said it seemed like you didn’t care when you said she looked beautiful in all of them - but it was true. She could be wearing a plastic bag with holes for sleeves and you would still choose her over anyone else.

You smiled, thinking about how her smile instantly made your day. While you were busy enhancing the photos to look for minor details to edit, Saerom sat down next to you.

“What are you looking at, baby?” she asked you before taking your phone. Saerom swipes through the pictures with her index finger, nodding after seeing each one. Once she returned the phone to you, you noticed a mischievous look in her eyes.

“I know that look.”

“What look?”

“You know what look.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, baby.” Saerom said, biting the tip of her finger while her left hand gently began rubbing your thigh. Any sort of pretense about her intentions was put to rest as her other hand placed the restaurant pager on the table. The two of you made eye contact and there was no mistaking it: her beautiful deep brown eyes were now clouded amber pools of lust and desire. You were thankful no one was nearby as Saerom squeezed her breast, releasing an erotic moan while she continued massaging your thigh.

“We’re in public, babe. We could get caught.”

“Maybe we should…” she teased as she leaned closer towards you and used both hands to grab the hemline of your joggers and boxers underneath before pulling them down. You moaned as the cool air from above felt wonderful on your newly exposed cock. Saerom eyed it hungrily as she leaned down and released a small collection of spit onto it. Knowing how needy you already were she decided to tease you even more by puckering her lips and placed a lust-filled kiss onto your tip, causing it to twitch slightly.

With one smooth swipe of her tongue across the palm of her left hand, Saerom wraps her long, slender fingers into a fist around your base with a firm grip. The warmth of it causes your shaft to throb, earning a soft smile from her. Planting a quick peck on your lips, she slowly begins stroking your cock.

You let out a loud sigh of relief as the built up pressure inside your chest was being released with every up and down motion of her hand. Saerom bit the tip of her finger once again as she stroked you, feeling you leak all over her fingers when she ran her thumb across your slit. 

Sexual acts in public places was nothing new to you both - yet it made you equally nervous and aroused as if it was the very first time. It all started with almost getting caught in your car at the beach parking lot one night when the security guard strolling by shined a flashlight through the windows. Then it was Saerom giving you a blowjob inside a women’s fitting room stall. You most certainly couldn’t forget bending her over the sink of a public restroom of a black tie required restaurant. But with most of the places so far, there was at least some semblance of privacy. This was a trendy cafe frequented by many, anyone could walk by and see your girlfriend stroking your cock without a care in the world.

“How about we make a deal, baby.” Saerom said in a lust-filled tone as her thumb continued to massage your tip.

“Deal? W-What d-deal?”

“If you can last mommy stroking your cock and not cumming before our order is ready, you can fuck mommy’s ass, baby.” Saerom whispered into your ear. Your eyes widened as you looked at your girlfriend’s naughty smirk of satisfaction. She had been teasing you with the proposition of entering her other hole for some time now, only allowing you to slide yourself in between her tight, round cheeks. The way she made it sound so forbidden made you want it even more. Your eyes involuntarily closed as the pleasure began to overwhelm your senses.

Saerom gradually began to increase in speed, encouraged by your moans and the way your cock throbbed in her hand. The mixture of her spit and your precum allowed her to go even faster, creating the familiar delicious sound of wet flesh. She counted five seconds silently before slowing back down, teasing you. Saerom had plenty of experience - knowing just what you liked. Which usually meant euphoric bliss on your part; except for when she wanted to take her time and edge you until the tipping point before bringing you back down to reality.

This went on several more times, each increasingly frustrating than the last. She giggled the entire time, enjoying watching you squirm and be helpless under her control. Your mental resistance was well beyond broken - at this point, it was all about endurance and resistance. You were determined not to let Saerom win. Not this time.

… Or so you thought. Saerom knew you weren’t going down so easily without a fight, which caused her to pull out her secret weapon. Grabbing your right hand, she led you up her smooth, creamy thighs all the way until your fingers began to feel heat radiating between her legs. You gulped as you knew where your hand was, like an adventurer finding a treasure chest. Using two fingers, you swiped in front of it, unsurprised to find out Saerom wasn’t wearing any underwear. She loved wearing skimpy thongs or modest panties that usually ended up bunched between her perfect ass cheeks, but eventually chose to forego it due to how many times you ripped them off her body. There was one time she bought an extremely expensive pair as a gift for your birthday, the thin piece of cloth not even making it thirty seconds in before it was tossed to a faraway corner of her bedroom.

Knowing it was a trap but going for it anyway, your two fingers found their way to her moist folds. Feeling your girlfriend leaking as well, you slowly inserted them inside her. Saerom moaned loudly as you entered her, her walls clenching you tightly, refusing to let go. You decided to up the ante, rubbing your thumb in a counterclockwise motion on her clit. It was now a war of nerves - both of you trying to get the other to orgasm first. But as expected, it was a losing battle. Saerom added more spit onto your cock and stroked you even faster, gripping your shaft tightly. You tried to distract her by pushing your fingers even deeper, but all it earned you was her pussy tightening.

“Cum for mommy, baby.”

That was all it took for you to reach your orgasm as you felt your abdomen tighten. You grunted loudly as your hips jerked and you exploded in Saerom’s hand. Your first few ropes could be heard hitting the underside of the table as you felt it land back onto her fingers and your thighs as you continued to release more and more thick, hot semen. Saerom made sure to continue stroking your sensitive cock, determined to drain you as much as possible.

The restaurant pager’s lights began to light up in a clockwise motion before vibrating on top of the table, signaling your order was ready and your subsequent failure to endure Saerom’s deal. She gives your cock a few more strokes, causing it to release small aftershocks as you recover from your intense orgasm. You struggled to catch your breath as you could feel beads of sweat form on your forehead. Once Saerom’s motions winded down and her tight grip on your cock was released, she raised her hand and stretched her fingers out to show you how messy your load for her was. She admired her work for a few seconds before cleaning it off with a napkin. She tilts her head slightly and moves closer to you, letting her lips meet yours as she gives you a deep kiss.

“You did so well, baby. It’s really a shame though - this nice, thick load would’ve tasted so good going down mommy’s throat. Or leaking down my thighs as we walk out of here.”

--

Saerom hated spending money at the movie theater's concession stand. Often calling it overpriced garbage, she always made sure to sneak in snacks inside her purse. Today was no different as she told the cafe employees to carefully wrap the baked goods. The movie theater was fairly empty - due to it being a weekday as well as not many movies being released. Saerom handled everything, from purchasing the tickets to picking out your reserved seats. With your fingers interlocked together, she leads you through the hallway and inside the theater. The two of you arrived just as the pre-movie commercials were about to end. Once Saerom handed you the movie tickets, you shined your phone flashlight on it.

“Babe, this movie is from like two months ago. We watched it at home.” you said.

“I know.” she simply replied, snuggling closer to you.

“Then why are we watching it again?”

“Because…” she said as her mischievous fingers found their way back onto the hemline of your joggers. “We aren’t going to be watching the movie.”

You should’ve seen it coming when Saerom chose the extra wide seats that seemed to be geared towards couples. She gave you a deep kiss on your lips before descending towards your lower body. Helping her out by removing your shirt, her eyes never wavered from yours. Your cock that was trapped inside the cloth prison was finally released, hitting her cheek. She laughs, licking her lips as she removes the pesky clothing completely off you and spreads your legs apart. Saerom watched every muscle in your face react as she blew hot air on your cock. You moaned the moment her hand made contact, using the same painfully slow pace she did at the cafe. While her left hand is busy taking care of your cock, her right fondled your balls - giving each a firm yet not too hard squeeze. She teases you by repeatedly lowering her head each time you think she will finally take you in her mouth, only to fake out at the last moment and continue to stroke you. She gave the tip of your cock a quick smooch to remove some of the leaking precum, something that only increased your frustration. Deciding you have had enough, she finally parted her lips and took you inside her mouth.

Saerom’s mouth was extremely warm and wet thanks to her built up spit. She strokes your cock as the first few inches enter her orifice before removing her hand and placing it onto your thighs. You felt like you were laying on a marshmallow, about to sink deeper and deeper into the chair. The only thing you saw was a soft ball of hair as she was  bobbing her head up and down, eliciting satisfied moans and lust-filled grunts from you as your cock was getting thoroughly covered. Saerom loved giving you blowjobs as much as you enjoyed receiving them, the feeling of you throbbing needily inside her mouth felt like a sudden rush of dopamine for her. She always enjoyed having complete control over you.

“Fuck, mommy…” you moaned. Saerom took her time, wanting you to savor every sensation as she swirled her tongue around your tip before making long strokes up and down the length of your shaft. Saerom looked up at you, satisfied to see your eyes closed from her sinful act. Having decided she prolonged teasing you enough, she went to work - sucking your cock deeper and faster. As her head took in more of your shaft, her tongue flickered along your underside. Eventually she reached your base as her lips gripped onto your cock and refused to let go. Her head bobbed in a wonderfully fast rhythm that teetered the edge of getting you to climax quickly and being just enough to leave you wanting more. Having had enough practice during the course of your relationship, Saerom was a master at deepthroating cock. The sounds of you reaching the back of her throat echoed inside the empty movie theater. It was like a symphony for your ears as you mustered the willpower to look down and stroke her head softly, pushing away several loose strands of hair. 

Saerom regretfully withdrew her mouth from your cock once she began running out of air. You were released from the velvety smooth walls with a satisfied hum from her, thin strands of saliva are connecting you and her mouth as you see several spit suds formed on her pretty lips. Your cock was glistening due to light emanating from the movie screen hitting it, causing the both of you to smile at each other. She spits once more on your cock, applying a copious amount all over your shaft. You rubbed her cheeks with your thumb softly, Saerom giving your tip another chaste kiss.

“Here comes your favorite part, baby.” Saerom said as she tapped your cock on her tongue a few times, causing her eyes to form crescents at you in anticipation.

Knowing just what she wanted, you grabbed onto both sides of her head and pushed yourself into her mouth. Moaning from the extreme pleasure, you wasted no time by roughly bobbing her head up and down. Saerom’s bright, lust-filled eyes widened with delight as she gags from you taking control. Her eyes began to water as she hungrily accepted your throbbing, needy cock. She didn’t even need to talk for you to know your girlfriend was enjoying this from the sounds being emitted as she gargled a mouthful of cock. Her nails dug into your thighs painfully as she moved your body to come closer to her. You obliged, closing the distance as you grip onto her hair and made a makeshift ponytail, holding it tightly as you fuck her mouth even rougher than before. Her tongue and uvula vibrated on your shaft, adding another layer of stimulation as your girlfriend was taking your cock to her heart’s desire.

All sense of time was put to the wayside as you both savored the moment. You regretfully let go of Saerom’s head when she began tapping on your thighs. She coughs, catching her breath as drool spilled out of her mouth and began dripping from her chin onto your balls below. Saerom was a disheveled mess, the hard work she put into her hair and makeup were no longer visible. She runs her lips along your length, kissing it until she reaches the tip before doing the same on the other side. She spit on your cock once more, the all too familiar squelchy sounds you were used to hearing rang through both of your ears as she slowly stroked you.

“Look at my baby being so rough. Did you like using mommy’s throat?” she asked rhetorically, knowing full well what your answer would be. Feasting her eyes upon your cock, Saerom pondered what to do next. Giving your tip a few licks before twirling her tongue in a clockwise motion, you noticed a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

The two of you quickly removed your clothing, discarding it along the various empty seats nearby. Saerom gave your tip a deep kiss before turning around, letting you admire her beautifully sculpted backside. The result of many long hours at the gym and a serious training regimen, it made the already divine Saerom even more unreal. Your hands naturally went to her round, supple bottom. You gave each cheek a firm squeeze, earning a giggle from your girlfriend. Saerom moaned erotically once the palm of your hand made contact with the soft flesh.

She was on her hands and knees in front of you - waiting for the very thing you two enjoyed most. You grabbed your shaft and slid your tip up and down Saerom’s folds, feeling how drenched her needy pussy was. Having had enough of your teasing, she pushed her body against you, allowing you to enter.

“Fuck…” the two of you breathlessly moaned as Saerom’s insanely tight walls squeezed the life out of you and gripped onto your cock. Her wet cavern felt wonderful as you pushed yourself slowly inside her.

“B-Baby, you feel so good inside mommy…” Saerom moaned as you closed your eyes and savored this wonderful feeling. It was Saerom’s favorite position - and thankfully, yours as well. You allowed her time to adjust to your cock as her walls clinged onto you for dear life.

You started off slow, wanting the both of you to prolong the moment. You gave her several weak thrusts as you held onto Saerom’s wide hips. Gradually building up the pace from the initial comfortable rhythm, Saerom’s moans and wordless gaps began to steadily increase in volume. She was hot, wet, and tight - all things that never changed despite the two of you taking pleasure in each other’s bodies almost every single day. She took pride in suffocating your cock to the point where it started to hurt. Whether it be her mouth or her pussy, Saerom knew how to make the most of her wonderful body. The natural lubrication from her juices allowed you to eventually move in and out of her with relative ease.

“Fuck… Fuck mommy harder, baby.” Saerom whined.

“What does mommy want?” you asked, giving her butt harsh slaps on both cheeks.

“O-Oh, fuck! Fuck mommy harder!” She screamed. Grabbing Saerom’s toned arms, you held onto her wrists delicately, causing her body to raise upwards for support as your hips thrusted inside her pussy. The sounds of flesh against flesh filled the empty movie theater, making the video in front of you rendered obsolete compared to the true main event. You felt her clench her walls against your shaft as you fucked your girlfriend harder like she wished.

The sounds of Saerom’s plump ass smacking against your lower body turned you on even more, causing you to go harder and deeper inside her. The sight of her cheeks clapping together was sort of hypnotizing - as if mocking you that your current pace was still not enough. Her pussy continues to tighten deliciously around you as you kiss her sweaty back.

“You’re making mommy feel so good, baby!” Saerom said in a half scream, half moan. Every word was dripping with pure desire and lust. You released your hold on her wrists, causing her body to plop onto the theather’s leather-bound chair. This didn’t last long, however, as you grabbed onto Saerom’s long, beautiful hair and formed a makeshift ponytail. While her raven colored locks flowed freely like cascading waterfalls - of which earned her many compliments from friends and coworkers alike, Saerom always explained she wanted to try something new. The real reason she grew it out was she enjoyed having it pulled during sex. Especially in your current position behind her.

With one hand holding her hair, your other gripped tightly on her shoulder. You were afraid you were being a bit too rough and would leave a bruise, but the way her pussy tightened around you along with the clouded, lust-filled look she gave you was all you needed. You were quick right away, thrusting into Saerom without any sort of build up. This temporarily startled her, before the familiar sounds of wet flesh, her needy screams, and the movie in the background having become nothing more than an afterthought all combined to create a wonderful symphony of pleasure as you fucked your girlfriend until she announces the end was near.

“B-Baby… M-Mommy’s going to cum.” she managed to say in between your thrusts.

You went even faster and deeper - wanting to do everything you could in order for Saerom to chase her euphoric high. It doesn’t take very long until she does so, Saerom screaming the loudest she has so far as you feel her pussy pulsating around your cock as it tightens and suffocates you. Her juices flood your shaft as her body shakes, she certainly would have collapsed if not for you supporting her upper body. You felt her begin to leak profusely, staining your thighs, balls and the leather below. Each wave of pleasure coursed through your body as you give her several more weak thrusts in order to allow her to ride out her orgasm.

You grab one of Saerom’s breasts, squeezing it gently as you pull her hair softly and lay down on your back, allowing her to rest on top of you. The both of you are heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. Saerom manages to weakly turn her head to its side as your lips meet hers. Each kiss was soft, full of satisfaction. Once you opened your eyes, you noticed hers were glazed over - returning to the beautiful amber color you always found yourself lost in. You held onto her hips and turned Saerom over so that your bodies were facing each other. Despite the exhaustion, her lower body began to grind itself against yours.

“Baby, you didn’t cum yet.” Saerom pouted. You felt her drenched folds coating your tip once more. It seemed once was never enough for her.

Saerom removed her body off you and got up on wobbly legs, grabbing your hands and helping you stand up. She gave the tip of your cock another kiss, sucking on it lightly before parting her lips and taking you inside her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down quickly, taking you all the way down to your base. You groaned as she tried her best to giggle through a mouth full of cock, the very action causing your underside to vibrate and add on another layer of pleasure. Her lips were sealed tight as the sounds of her slobbering all over your cock helped your fast approaching orgasm arrive even quicker.

“Fuck, mommy. I’m going to cum.” you announced as you felt a knot inside of you.

Saerom released your cock with a loud pop as she used her left hand to stroke you quickly, the lubrication of her mouth and juices helping make the task relatively easy. Saerom’s big, beautiful eyes looked right back at yours - eager for you to feel the same way you made her feel not even mere minutes ago. Your breaths became more shallow as she helped you reach your tipping point.

You weren’t even able to announce to Saerom that your orgasm arrived. You moaned loudly as your cock throbbed in her hand and you exploded all over her beautiful face. Thick ropes of cum are released in impressive speed as it paints her forehead. The next few land near her right eye, causing her to involuntarily close it. She continued stroking your length as you continued to release spurt after spurt of hot, thick semen. With the final two ropes landing on her cheek and her awaiting tongue, you felt all of the built up tension and pressure being released from your body as Saerom drains your balls dry. You opened your eyes and were surprised to see just how much you came on her face.

Saerom giggled as she cleans the leftover cum dribbling out of your slit, bobbing her head a few more times for good measure. She allowed you to admire your work, her chest heaving as she puckered her lips and blew a kiss at you. The two of you managed to finish just as the lights above turned on and the end credits of the film were starting to play. Saerom uses her fingers to trace all the spots she felt your load dripping down her face and puts it in her mouth.

“You taste so yummy, baby.” Saerom said. “Looks like mommy’s diet has been working out after all.”

The two of you quickly got dressed and hurried out of the theater before the cleaning employees arrived.

--

For about a month now, Saerom got you onto a strict regimen. Making you cut out “useless” carbs, sugar, red meats - basically all of the foods you enjoyed. Knowing you would whine or complain, she always shut you up by implementing a no sex rule or edging you everyday until you complied. She had everything fully planned out down to the minute. It wasn’t easy, or fun, but the results spoke for themselves. You begrudgingly admit it was working… especially in regards to your increased sexual stamina.

After a quick change of clothes at home, the two of you are going to visit one of Saerom’s friends. She never said who - always wanting to keep things a mystery until the very last moment. Saerom held your hand tightly as the two of you entered the gym. Normally the unmistakable scent of sweat and loud grunts would be heard. But this particular gym was completely empty - not a soul in sight. You and Saerom sat at a nearby table. Asking her why you two were here instead of your usual gym, you hear a door near the weight rack open.

“Oppa! Unnie!”

You looked up and smiled. Noh Jisun - Saerom’s former roommate and someone you were quite close to who was as much of a fanatic about the gym as she was. The last time you saw her, her hair was much longer with a fringe style to cover her forehead. This time, her shoulder length hair was a deeper shade of brown. She styled it in a way that it parted more towards the left side of her head. She wore a simple outfit of a black v-neck shirt, gray leggings that complemented her curvy figure nicely, black socks, and a black and white windbreaker. She ran towards the two of you and hugged Saerom immediately. Your girlfriend reciprocated, happy to see her after so long. A few minutes later, she let go and turned to you.

“Hi, oppa.” Jisun said, smiling. You returned her smile and gave her a hug as well. She pulled you in tightly - you forgot how much she loved giving hugs. She left your embrace slightly before moving her head close to your ear.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun today.”

The hairs on the back of your neck raised as her words tingled inside your ear. It was a technique you heard many times early on during your relationship with Saerom. Jisun quickly became popular in an online community, with many tuning in to her videos and occasional livestreams. You never understood the appeal of people wanting to listen to someone whisper the entire time but respected Jisun making the most out of a niche demographic.

“What brings you guys over here?” Jisun asked.

“We wanted to visit and see how you were doing.” Saerom replied.

“It seems like you’re doing pretty well for yourself, Jisun.”

“I guess you can say that.” Jisun said, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “The ASMR community loves my videos. I was able to save up enough to open up this place.”

“That’s so great!” Saerom said. “Look baby, she even has the weights you like!”

Looking to the direction your girlfriend was pointing at, you noticed differently colored plates of various sizes. While gradually being able to increase how much you could lift, you also enjoyed mixing the colors together. Not a single weight was out of place - something you personally didn’t enjoy seeing at your regular gym.

Saerom interlocks her fingers with yours. You smiled - she always knew how to calm you down whenever you felt anxious. Briefly looking at Jisun, you noticed a slight glimpse of anger in her eyes. Before you could say anything, Saerom pulled you along.

The tour of the gym was rather quick - Jisun quickly cycled through each of the machines as well as the rest area filled with goodies to indulge on. Upon reaching the Pilates room, Saerom wrapped her arms around your waist as she looked up at you lovingly.

“Isn’t this place great, baby? I’m so proud of Jisun.”

“Y-Yeah, really great.”

“I just remembered. I’ve been so busy lately I forgot to plan out the couple’s workouts like you asked. Sorry, unnie.” Jisun cutely said, pouting and looking down.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Saerom said cheerfully. “Would you be able to help out oppa though?”

“Sure! I’d love to.” Jisun said, looking at you with a mischievous smirk.

“Oppa’s been complaining about feeling stiff. I was hoping you could make sure every inch of him is relaxed.” “Every inch?” Jisun repeated, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Really make sure oppa releases all of the tension built up lately.” “Oh... I’ll have no problem doing that, unnie.” Jisun continued to tease by forming her cute small left hand into a fist and displaying a jerking off motion while miming her cheek being full.

Giving you a quick peck on the lips, Saerom puts on her headphones and goes to a nearby treadmill. You watched your girlfriend’s wide hips sway with each step as her plump ass jiggles, causing you to sigh loudly as you could feel yourself slightly hardening.

Feeling a hand cup your crotch is what brought you out of your daydream due to staring at your girlfriend’s lower body. You looked down at the owner of said hand and felt the breath taken away from you as Jisun squeezed a bit harder this time. Bringing her right hand to your face, you noticed the cute woman you were used to seeing was gone. Replacing her glazed over eyes was a look you know all too well.

“So, unnie wants me to help you feel relaxed? That’s no problem at all.” Jisun said in a sensual whisper, each word dripping with a honey-like tone. She unzipped her windbreaker, letting you see the outline of her breasts through the loose fitting v-neck shirt.

“Mommy will take good care of you, oppa.” She continued, untying the drawstring of your joggers.

“M-Mommy?”

“Don’t act surprised.” Jisun said, still maintaining her whisper-like tone. “I know unnie has been making you call her that ever since you would visit our old apartment.”

You were surprised to see this side of Jisun. The Jisun you remembered was conservative, someone who didn’t have much self-confidence and felt comfortable playing video games or being in front of a computer screen. It seemed being independent did wonders for her.

“Maybe mommy should take care of your lower body first, how does that sound?”

Yanking both your joggers and the underwear underneath, Jisun slowly descends into a kneeling position between your legs. Your cock is now exposed to the cool breeze coming from the air conditioning. It is a wonderful feeling, causing you to twitch slightly.

“Not bad… I can see why unnie liked having you over so much.” she said, her eyes trying to soak up as much of you as possible. Licking her lips hungrily, she grabs ahold of your base and gives you slow, agonizing licks until she reaches your tip. You instinctively closed your eyes, letting out a soft moan.

“Fuck…”

Jisun dragged her wet tongue on the underside of your shaft, painting a long stripe on the exposed flesh. When she reaches your tip, her tongue swirls around it, causing you to moan even more. Collecting the precum that is beginning to dribble out of your slit, she sucks on it lightly before replacing it with a generous amount of saliva. Using her tongue once more, she spreads it across every inch. You look down and see Jisun methodically lathering your cock until it is glistening from the overhead lighting. Once she is satisfied, she grips your shaft firmly and slowly begins stroking you.

She employs a familiar technique: counterclockwise motions and smooth up and down strokes. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, feeling the pleasure her wonderful small hand was providing you. Her hand moves up and down with ease thanks to her saliva. Your moans increase in volume the longer she continues.

“You like when mommy strokes your cock, don’t you baby?”

“It-It’s o-okay…” you replied, knowing full well you were lying.

“Hmph.” Jisun pouted, running her thumb across your slit. “Maybe this will change your mind.”

Slapping her cheeks with your hard cock, you felt Jisun blowing hot air onto your tip, causing you to throb in her hand. She lets out a giggle and kisses the tip of your cock before lining you in front of her mouth. With a simple part of her lips, you release a heavy breath as she engulfs your cock. 

Your hands hold onto the wall behind you as the pressure begins to build up, causing your eyes to close shut. Your moans continue as Jisun slowly bobs her head up and down. She takes the top half of your cock into her warm, wet mouth - each time sending waves of lust and pleasure coursing through your body. You feel her tongue dragging across the underside of your shaft. Forcing your eyes open, you look down and take in the fact that Saerom’s former roommate, Jisun was currently on her knees and looking at you while pleasuring you in a way you would have never imagined.

“Mommy, fuck… that feels so fucking good.” you moaned as your body was hypnotized by Jisun sucking your cock. You felt every muscle in your body relaxing as your cock was inside her hollowed mouth. Taking the initiative, you run your fingers through her dark brown locks before palming the back of her head. Jisun looks up at you and smiles through a mouthful of cock, happy you are enjoying every moment of her sinful act. Your hand follows along to her bobbing motions, guiding her rhythm before she temporarily retreats her mouth’s wonderful hold on you. Spitting a copious amount of saliva built up onto your shaft, she looks at you seductively as she slaps her bright pink tongue with your cock.

You looked out to see Saerom diligently exercising on the treadmill. All you could think about was how sweaty her back has become, and how good it would be to suck on her damp skin as you fuck her from behind. This, of course, does not go unnoticed by Jisun who pinches your inner thigh and causes you to slightly wince in pain as you see her slowly begin to remove her clothing.

“Mommy hasn’t been fucked in months and I am not going to let this opportunity go to waste.” Jisun said, as she removed her socks and slid her body hugging leggings down, revealing her creamy legs and wonderfully thick thighs. She makes a show of removing her shirt, leaving her in only a red lace bra and panty set. Despite feeling more self-confident, there is a hint of shyness from Jisun as she is mostly exposed to you for the very first time.

You always considered her to have a nice figure - but running her own gym and having a strict training regimen made the curvy parts of her body even more noticeable. The delicious line of her cleavage was enticing - you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in it. Jisun notices this and smiles.

“Now, now, baby. We don’t want unnie to hear mommy making you feel good, now do we?” Jisun said, placing a finger on her lips. It felt like a preemptive warning, a calm before the pleasure-induced storm. Stroking your cock several times in preparation, she opens her bra slightly in order to allow you in between her soft flesh. A soft moan escapes her lips as she wraps your shaft with her warm, perfect tits.

“Fuck, mommy...” you groaned softly, trying your best not to be too loud from the pressure quickly that striked you light a lightning bolt as Jisun takes you in and out of her hot cleavage. You were thankful Saerom wasn’t too close by and especially that she wore headphones as the sound of her treadmill helped mask the squelching sounds coming from Jisun’s tits moving up and down your cock. You sighed in content and looked down, seeing her push her breasts together against your shaft and squeezed you even tighter.

“Baby…” she moaned as she moved her large, soft flesh onto you. “You’re so hard for mommy.”

Jisun’s eyes were captivating - her soft voice causing your entire body to tingle as her breasts continued to wrap themselves tightly around your cock. Her cute features were replaced with pure lust and desire, currently focused on satisfying you. The tip and upper part of your cock constantly poked in and out between her soft flesh. Each thrust was delicious, wet and hot. Jisun was the master of pure seduction: each time you felt you were at your tipping point, she slowed down. After several minutes of teasing, she removes her heavy breasts from your cock.

“I don’t want you cumming just yet, baby.” Jisun said. “First, you have to make mommy feel good too.”

Removing the last of her clothing, you almost drooled as you finally saw Jisun fully naked. Not giving you ample time to admire her body, she leads you to one of the yoga mats nearby, pushing you gently on your back. She straddles your lap, rubbing her splayed lips on your cock. You moaned, feeling how wet she already was turned you on even more. She then dismounts your body and repositions herself, hovering just above your face. As your hands were about to hold onto her hips, she stopped you.

“No no no, bad boy. It’s rude to touch mommy without permission.”

She lowered her body just enough for you to feel the heat radiating from between her legs. It looked so soft, inviting. Jisun could sense your anxiousness as you squirmed underneath her.

“You want to eat mommy’s pussy don’t you, baby?” Jisun nonchalantly asked. 

“Well… there’s somewhere else I’d rather you eat instead.”

Lowering herself fully, you grabbed her plump ass, grabbing two handfuls of each cheek and squeezing as hard as you could. This caused Jisun to moan as your mouth met her forbidden orifice. You kissed her heavenly soft skin, parting her cheeks as your tongue painted the outer rim.

“Baby…” Jisun moaned as her tight muscles began to unclench and allow your tongue deeper entry. Satisfied with your minimal work so far, you continued to stimulate her asshole. Spreading her cheeks apart even more, you pushed your tongue inside her puckered hole.

Jisun is quickly overwhelmed by all of her senses being overstimulated at once, as you feel her juices slowly leaking out of her pussy and staining her thighs and your neck below. You swirl your tongue inside her ass, just as she did when she was sucking your cock. Each contact sent multiple shocks of pleasure coursing through her body. Despite Jisun getting progressively louder the longer you were buried inside her, both of you have little regard for anything else, only focusing on each other. She pushes her pillowy soft ass against you even more, frantically trying to chase her own pleasure.

“You’re making mommy feel so good, baby.” Jisun said, feeling your mouth and tongue drench her inner asshole with your saliva.

Gripping onto her asscheeks even harder, you move your face from side to side. This causes Jisun to scream loudly as another wave of stimulation is added to her rapidly sensitive body. She is beginning to lose control of her senses as your tongue thrusts deep inside her asshole.

“Baby… oh my- fuck!”

She arches her back completely straight as you remove one hand from her asscheek and move your way between her thick thighs. Easily finding her clit, you rubbed it with the pad of your thumb. Doing your best to keep her from bucking her hips uncontrollably, you stimulate Jisun on both parts of her lower body.

“Baby… that feels so good. That feels so good. I-I’m gonna cum!” Desperation could be heard in Jisun’s voice as you continued to provide her with the pleasure she hadn’t received in so long. Each flick of your tongue caused her to tilt her head back. You knew it wouldn’t be much longer - rubbing your thumb on her clit furiously as you squeezed her asscheek and buried your tongue as deep as it could go.

“Baby, mommy’s cumming!” Jisun screamed as she finally succumbed to her orgasm. Her hips bucked wildly as you struggled to hold her in place. Your tongue was firmly lodged inside her asshole, doing its best to not let go as long, sultry moans escape her beautifully soft lips. Her thighs are stained with her sweet nectar, causing it to dribble down onto your chin and neck. Her orgasm lasts for several minutes, repeated aftershocks causing her sensitive body to rub itself against your face.

“H-Holy shit, baby.” Jisun said once the both of you felt her body finally return to normal. She buried your face deeper inside one last time before finally dismounting. Each heave of her chest allowed you to see her large breasts move up and down. A thin layer of sweat formed on her body as she smiled at you sweetly.

“Has unnie let you fuck her thighs before?” She asked.

You shook your head.

“Guess that’s another thing mommy will help you out with.” Jisun said as she helped you to your feet.

She spit on your cock several times to help lubricate it once more. The two of you are now facing each other. Jisun strokes your shaft back to full hardness before rubbing it against her inner thighs. They instinctively sandwich your shaft as the mixture of her saliva and nectar from her orgasm allow you to slip in between. Both of you let out a satisfied moan as your cock grinds against Jisun’s lips and her delicious thighs.

Her thighs were the perfect mix of muscular and thick. They possessed a unique softness to them, with Saerom’s being mostly muscular as you felt her slowly leaking onto your cock once again. Fucking her breasts was certainly enjoyable, but her thighs were thick, wide - and warm. Your newfound appreciation for Jisun’s body helped stimulate you even more as the two of you kissed each other. Your cock was nuzzled comfortably underneath her hot walls as you squeezed her asscheeks once more. This helped you increase your pace, her natural wetness allowing your cock to glide between her suffocatingly thick thighs. Jisun’s body was taking the euphoric feeling of outercourse to new heights - the two of you moaning in each other’s mouths. You savored the feeling of her creamy thighs and ass jiggling against your body with each thrust. The tip of your cock grazes her cheeks while your balls bounce against each side of her thighs wildly. The two of you could feel the pressure building up inside. You take this opportunity to gradually lower the speed of your thrusts, both of you disconnecting from each other’s lips as you press your foreheads together and breathe heavily.

“Y-You’ll fuck mommy now, won’t you baby?” Jisun pleaded. Her eyes contained a soft sadness to them, desperation in her voice.

Jisun wraps her muscular legs around your torso and causes you to fall back onto the yoga mat. Making sure she wasn’t too rough, she smiled as she straddled your lap. The lust-filled gaze on her face causes you to gulp in slight nervousness as she takes your hard shaft in her hand, stroking you before impaling herself on your cock.

Her tight walls hugged your cock instantly. Her hips meet yours, causing Jisun to release an erotic moan at the feeling of being filled. She arches her body in the same manner she did when you were eating her ass, taking you in and out of her wanton body. Your hard cock slides at a pace with zero regard for you or your comfort.

Jisun braces herself on your chest by firmly planting her hands, creating the wonderful side effect of her breasts being pressed together, giving you a delicious looking sight of the very same cleavage that made you salivate when from her earlier titfuck. Jisun’s breasts bounced up and down hypnotically as she rode you. Her previously glazed over eyes were now replaced with a determined, almost angry look. She seemed to be working out the frustration and anger that built up from her time as Saerom’s roommate, using your cock as an outlet with each thrust of her hips.

She bit her lower lip seductively, doubling as a way to prevent herself from moaning or gasping too loud and letting Saerom hear what was going on.

“D-Do you know how much you turned me on, oppa?” Jisun asked as she slammed her body up and down your cock. “How wet I got hearing you fuck Saerom unnie? How hearing you call her mommy made me want you to call me that too?”

Her moans quickly turn into loud screams that echo throughout the room as you relish in the fact that her pussy was even tighter than Saerom’s. Both of you soon find a comfortable rhythm as Jisun grabs your hands  and interlocks them with her own. As she slams her body on yours harder and harder, her eyes roll to the back of her head from how your cock causes her to lose control of her senses. Her mouth is agape, letting noiseless screams of pleasure escape as the sound of wet skin loudly colliding with wet skin helps create a harmonious wave of euphoria. Jisun’s butt rubs against your thighs as your balls touch her lower pussy lips.

“Fuck! Just like that, baby.” Jisun yells in between bounces. “Harder. Keep fucking mommy harder!”

Your worries about Saerom hearing you both were a distant afterthought as you could only focus on the beautiful woman enjoying herself on top of you. With her hands now returning to being firmly placed on your chest for support, you begin squeezing her large tits, marveling at how heavy, yet soft they were. You squeeze both at the same time, pinching her erect nipples before giving each a firm slap.

“Holy shit…” Jisun erotically screamed. “Slap mommy’s tits again!”

You granted her demand, giving each several slaps as you alternated between slapping and rubbing the tender skin.

Jisun’s body shook with pleasure - her breathing became more erratic as the sensations of stimulating her breasts and pussy were causing her to go insane. The moment the tip of your cock reached a certain spot deep inside, Jisun screamed loudly and kept you buried into her hilt. Her body tenses up as she feels an overwhelming sense of pleasure flow from the top of her head to her toes, causing them to curl up. Her body shook violently as you felt your cock flooded by her juices. Her second orgasm was a lot stronger -  hitting with such force that it almost pushed your cock out of her body.

You bounced Jisun on your cock slowly several more times as the aftershocks of her orgasm continued to occur. Her muscles gradually loosen up and she looks at you with a fully satisfied smile, her eyes glazed over in satisfaction. She leans down and captures your lips, thanking you for making her feel good. 

You temporarily retreat from her freshly fucked pussy, causing Jisun to whimper as she gets on her hands and knees on the yoga mat.

“Fuck mommy’s ass, baby.”

Each word was dripping with pure lust and a desire to be filled.

Grabbing Jisun’s toned arms, you pushed her face onto the mat. You slapped her soft butt cheeks a few times with your cock, teasing her by sliding your cock between her cheeks. While you got a taste of it earlier, Saerom’s constant teasing about entering her other hole made Jisun’s wish for you to fuck her there all the more enticing. She moaned at your initial penetration into the tight muscle, her warm cavern constricting you.

“Fuck…” she moaned into the mat.

“Mommy’s ass is so tight.” you said, slowly thrusting in and out of her hole.

Her warm walls squeezed your cock painfully, arousing you even more. You thrusted into her slowly, yet deeply. Her asscheeks rippled from the force each time it collided with your torso. While you so desperately wanted to savor the moment, you knew it wouldn’t be long before your orgasm would be too much to suppress. Knowing this, you picked up the pace and held onto Jisun’s arms tightly as you fucked her from behind.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” She managed to scream between each thrust. The two of you were sweating heavily as you worked together to help you achieve the same bliss you have given her.

You gritted your teeth - fucking Jisun as hard as you could. Your orgasm could be felt throughout your entire body when it finally arrived. You thrusted deep inside her, moaning loudly as her walls wrapped tightly around your cock, pulsating as you released thick, hot semen inside her ass. Jisun came immediately right after, her climax less intense than earlier, but feeling just as good.

“That was… holy fuck...” Jisun weakly said as she tried her best to recover. “I need to get fucked like this again.”

You turned her around and kissed each other on the lips, breathing a sigh of relief as you ran your fingers through her hair. The two of you were so exhausted and focused on one another you failed to hear the door open.

“Well, well, well.”

The two of you panicked and saw Saerom staring at you both with her arms crossed, tapping her foot as she witnessed the aftermath of what just happened.

“M-Mommy, I c-can explain…”

“You finished your workout that quickly?” Jisun asked.

“How could I not when your screams filled the entire gym.”

Saerom got on her knees and brought her index finger to your chin, tilting your head up slightly. You were terrified, watching as her big beautiful eyes met yours.

“You know better than to fuck someone else without mommy’s permission.” Saerom said. “Though I will admit it was pretty hot, baby.”

“How much did you hear?” you asked.

“Why don’t you find out yourself?” she said, putting her headphones on your ears. Expecting to hear something, anything - you were surprised to learn there was nothing at all.

“Mommy heard everything, baby.”

Saerom wasted no time peeling each layer of clothing off her body, causing your cock to throb at the sight of your naked girlfriend before you. She massages her breasts, moaning as she pinches her nipples.

“Jisun.”

“Y-Yes, mommy?”

“Why don’t we both make him feel good?”

“I have just the thing to help us out.” Jisun said. Reaching into the pocket of her windbreaker, she pulls out a clear plastic bottle. She squeezes a generous amount on Saerom’s breasts, with Saerom reciprocating the favor to Jisun. Both of them have a wicked glint in their eyes as they lather your cock with it as well. Stroking you to make sure you were evenly covered, both women got on opposite sides of you.

Pushing their breasts together, they sandwich your cock in between. Having experienced being trapped by each chest separately, there were no words to describe how it felt when they both rubbed themselves against you. The friction their tits created was heavenly as the wet flesh covered your cock, only allowing your tip to be visible.

“Like that, baby?” Saerom asked.

“You like mommy’s tits more, don’t you baby?” Jisun asked, moaning as her nipples brushed against Saerom’s.

“Oh, please.” Saerom said, rolling her eyes. “Your tits aren’t that great.”

“I bet I can get more of his cum on my tits than yours.”

“You’re going to regret saying that.” Saerom said as she picked up the pace. Both pairs of breasts began to squeeze and massage your cock, trapping it in between the warmth of their heavenly flesh. 

It was the end to a perfect, stamina draining day. You only hoped this wouldn’t be the last time Saerom and you would be visiting Jisun’s gym.

--

An unlocked phone vibrated, signaling a new message arrived. Attached was a picture of a woman flashing a peace sign to the camera against a beige background with her looking slightly sultry.

[10:00 PM]: Oppa! I’m coming to visit! See you soon! 🧡

[wheelsup]

coffee is the sixth love language | part two

Summary: Over three cups of coffee, Spencer realized his feelings for you. And over three cups of coffee, he acts on them. gn!Reader.

A/N: the italicized this time indicates Spencer’s thoughts, not reader’s. part of this story is inspired directly from these comments made by @doctorthreephds on the reblog! thanks for letting me incorporate them :)

category: fluff, sfw

warnings: technically none, but the “profiling” part is kind of a reach.

word count: 3k

     Once Spencer was firmly resolute on asking you out, he knew he wanted it to be special in a way that only the two of you could appreciate. He realized that he had yet to be the one bringing you coffee, and so it felt only right that it should be how he makes his first move. He woke up extra early on a weekday morning to stop by your favorite coffee shop on his way to work because he knew you loved their banana nut muffins and double-brewed coffee. It was an extra twenty-five minutes out of the way for work each way, so you only got to go there on the rare occasion that you had a day off and were not out of town on a case. It might have been ridiculous to drive fifty minutes for a single damn muffin, but Spencer wanted to make this perfect for you by any means necessary. This was one of the special times that Spencer drove his car, needing the extra speed in order to complete his mission.

     He picked up your regular drink order and the muffin and was anxiously on his way back to Quantico. As per his plan he arrived at the office before you did, though not too much earlier because he wanted to make sure your coffee was still hot by the time you got it. If Spencer’s calculations were correct - which they almost always were - you would arrive within a two to four and a half minute window from when he did. Spencer took out a sharpie from his desk drawer and delicately scrawled a message onto the top corner of the pastry bag holding your muffin. He thought it felt like something out of a cheesy romance novel, the kind of novels that you could find in the fifty cent clearance bins, but dammit if Spencer didn’t deserve a little cheesy romance in his life. The other benefit of this was that he thought he would almost certainly choke on his words if he had to ask you himself. He set the two items on your desk and returned to his own to sit and observe. Spencer hoped it would be the first of many coffees he could buy you.

It wasn’t until you had already walked into the bullpen and were halfway to your desk that Spencer realized he had forgotten to sign his name to the bag. How were you supposed to react to him asking you out if you didn’t actually know it was him? And oh God, he left unsealed food on the desk of an FBI agent, with no indication of who had put it there. That is infinitely more suspicious than it is romantic. He wouldn’t be surprised if she took it straight to the trash can. So long for cheesy romance, Dr. Reid.

     But Spencer was absolutely elated when your first reaction was to peek into the bag and gasp out of joy at what was inside. He watched you break off a piece of your beloved banana nut muffin and chew it gleefully, and all he could think of was how cute you looked when you were happy. Shortly followed by concern that a federal agent would so readily eat unmarked food that could have been tampered with. That’s something I should bring up to her on the date. 

     Spencer’s stomach was in knots not knowing if you would pick up on the message. You swallowed that chunk of the muffin and turned the bag over to find an almost illegible black script that you had nearly missed: Would you like to have coffee with me? It just felt like all of the air had been knocked out of your body. 

     It didn’t even take you half a second to know who this was from; there were so many tells it was Spencer. Before you even noticed the note, you knew it was from him when you saw what was inside the bag. The whole team knew what your favorite coffee shop was because you had talked about it enough times. Hell, you even owned a oversized tee with their name on it that you kept in your go bag as a sleep shirt. But nobody knew what your favorite muffin was because you never mentioned it. In fact, if you thought about it there were maybe only a handful of times over the six months you’d been at the BAU that you even elected to eat this pastry in lieu of a real breakfast. But if anyone was going to detect a pattern, it would have been Dr. Reid. Of course he would pick up on the fact that you only picked those out at cafes when you felt like having a sweet treat, or that when Penelope brought in baked goods for the office you would only indulge if you saw your favorite item in the lineup. 

     You already knew it, but in case you had any doubt, the note itself confirmed your theory twice. One indicator was the phrasing choice would you as opposed to will you. Use of would posits a hypothetical, as in hypothetically, would you have an interest in drinking coffee together, rather than a hard, come with me to get coffee. The hesitance in the tone came off as if the sender were testing the waters, wanting to put the idea out there without coming off as too strong. Because it was reserved, it gave you room to think if you would genuinely enjoy doing so as opposed to making you feel like you should oblige. That level of respect screamed Spencer to you. And though it was so glaringly obvious, if you needed some concrete evidence it was the fact that nobody else had such endearingly atrocious handwriting like Dr. Reid. It was something you always found hilariously ironic for a man who often analyzes other people’s writing styles for work. You wondered what his way of scribbling said about him, and hoped he could tell you on that date of yours. 

     You looked straight at him, finding that his eyes were already fixed on you.

     “Yes.” 

     One word was all you had to say to make the lump in Spencer’s throat disappear, replaced by the sensation that his heart was leaping out of his chest. He was going to keep that memory stored in his brain forever, just to replay the moment when the future of your relationship changed with a simple word. Little did he know that when you finished that muffin, you neatly folded the pastry bag and tucked it into your desk drawer, saving it for the exact same purpose. 

_____

     Spencer had gotten to see your favorite coffee spot already, so for your date you requested that he take you to his to make it even. It was small, but incredibly cozy under the soft ambiance provided by string lights and charm of their mismatched furniture. There was one exposed brick wall adjacent to another that was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf; it housed copies that loyal patrons left behind for others to pick up. All of those books had different colors of post-its peeking out from the pages. It was almost too eclectic and disorganized for what you would expect Dr. Reid to be into, but at the same time it made perfect sense to you.

     “You know, I think I just learned something about you.” You leaned gently into his side to tell him, both hands wrapped around your coffee cup because you were too nervous to know what else to do with them. Spencer was the kind of guy to sit adjacent to you at a table, rather than across, and you loved that about him. You loved having him as close to you as possible. 

     Spencer’s lips pulled at the edges to form a perfect, lazy smile. “What did you learn about me?” The team had an agreement not to profile each other, but under your gaze, Spencer never felt the kind of scrutiny that came with picking people apart. He trusted that whatever you had to say was going to be kind.

     “I think this place says so much about you. Something about how all those books are donations passed on from locals, and that people feel comfortable taking a book off the shelf and opening it up to read what others recommend. The fact that they leave little notes in it for the next reader to share what those stories meant to each of them. Nobody asked those people to do that, but they all chose to take part in these small actions that ended up creating an entire community.” It was one of the most beautifully human things you’d ever witnessed. A group of people engaging in understated and innocent gestures of love between perfect strangers, completely unprompted. “I think you value simple acts, the kind that can take on profound meaning without even intending to. Like when silence feels so comfortable when you’re with the right person.” You paused to take in his reaction as a gauge for how right or wrong you may be. He gave no objection to what you had posited, eyes simply glued to you in intense focus. Spencer was hanging on everything you said, wordlessly encouraging you to divulge more theories you’d developed on him.

     “And, visually, this furniture reminds me of a family home. The kind where some items were handed down for generations, some bought new, and others gifted by a distant relative who has no idea what the family likes.” Spencer’s soft laughter mirrored your own at your very accurate description of the shop’s decor. The room truly could not be more disjointed in its aesthetic, but that was entirely its charm. “It probably reflects that there are some aspects of your life that just don’t make sense to you, that almost seem to conflict with each other. For a guy so smart, I’m sure it’s scary to feel like you don’t understand something, and there are probably dark spots in that brain of yours that you try to hide from the world. But in this room, these things that don’t seem like they work together actually amount to something so lovely. And just like the charmingly hideous suede couch and the oddly fur-covered armchairs, every facet of you deserves appreciation because without them you wouldn’t make up to be the beautiful person you are overall.” 

     Neither of you could pinpoint the moment which your hands had drifted together, fingers loosely intertwined in gentle embrace. There was too much to unpack in what you had said for Spencer to know where to begin. The only thing he could say for sure was that he was astounded by how deeply you understood him without him ever saying any of those things. He considered that maybe you understood him better than he did himself and wished that he could spend his whole life observing the world through the same rose-tinted lenses with which you viewed him. At a loss for words, Spencer chose not to say any right then. The silence I have with you is the most comfortable I’ve ever had. 

_____

     After each of you consumed one too many caffeinated beverages, you still were not prepared to let the date end. You were willing to sit there and have as many espresso drinks as you could to keep talking to Spencer. 

     The universe must have been in support of your romance as the overcast skies broke and began to rain just minutes after the two of you had left the shop. Spencer was walking you back to your apartment, clearly forcing his long legs to slow down their naturally fast stride so to extend how long it took to get there. He could get an extra thirteen minutes with you this way. Spencer was given his perfect excuse to keep the date going in the form of heavy downpour; his apartment was far closer than yours, and he proposed you two should seek shelter together until it stopped. I hope it never stops. 

     Spencer held tightly onto your hand as he ran with you through the rain, giggling all the way to his apartment. He may not like wet, cold climates, but he sure did like holding your hand. Being next to you made him feel incredibly warm somehow when the temperature outside was very much not. And you felt completely at peace sitting on Spencer’s couch wearing one of his sweaters that he lent you. Truthfully, your own clothes weren’t so wet from the rain that it was necessary, but you both pretended it absolutely was just to be able to experience this. 

     It was clear that the rain would be going for a while and all you wanted to do to pass the time was continue listening to Spencer talk. You discovered that when he’s not interrupted, he loves to go on runaway tangents, often bouncing between different trains of thought as one idea sparked him to remember another. It was almost a sport to keep up with him, but it was perhaps the only one you’ve ever enjoyed. It was so easy when everything he said interested you. You loved that Spencer taught you something new every day, but no matter how niche a piece of trivia or shocking an unknown fact was, it could not beat the things that he taught you about himself. He was letting you in on so many unseen dimensions of himself whether he knew it or not, the explicit ones revealing implicit ones. 

     You had happily stayed in his home for hours, absorbing every word he spoke. What entertained you the most was the ability of your conversation to jump from deep, serious places to lighthearted stories filled with jokes and teasing and back again in a way that felt completely natural. Your favorite anecdote of his was the story of how he got addicted to coffee. It was the BAU’s favorite inside-joke that Spencer liked his coffee sickeningly sweet and you always wondered how he could tolerate it. Just looking at it made your teeth ache. When he told you why, you thought that the backstory was even sweeter than the coffee.

     As a twelve year old college student, Spencer found himself experiencing sleep deprivation for the first time in his life. The course load was more rigorous than he had in high school and even the boy genius needed to readjust to the new expectations of college. More importantly, he needed to cope with pulling late nights at the library if he wanted his first degree by the time he was eligible for a driver’s license. The Red Bulls that the other kids seem to gravitate to seemed far too aggressive for Spencer, their potent smell of chemicals a huge turn off. They were definitely not for him. 

     He remembered how often his mom used to drink coffee, always in the morning while Spencer got ready for school. Being at CalTech and away from his mother, who remained in Las Vegas most of the time due to her condition, made him so homesick that he took up a coffee habit as a reminder of her. He loved the way it smelled like every comfort he had ever known. 

     Though he appreciated its smell, Spencer, of course, was not ready back then to love the way it tasted. He was still after all a twelve year old boy who had a sweet tooth like any other kid. The bitter drink was almost offensive to him, so he always made his coffee with extra, extra sugar. He was a menace to the baristas at the campus coffee cart because they would have to refill the shaker every time he stopped by. As it turned out, Spencer was actually a little troublemaker in his youth. 

     You utterly adored this story and the way it humanized Spencer in a way that other people did not consider often enough. Yes, he was the genius in incredibly advanced classes for his age, but he was also a little kid who behaved as all little kids did. He also experienced struggle and had to cope with it just like everyone else. He was not, as some chose to believe, a complete anomaly beyond understanding. Those many misunderstood idiosyncrasies Spencer had started to feel grounded as you learned more about him and could appreciate how and why they came to be.  

     But the night was dwindling down and two of you had gone through many stories since the start of your day together. Hitting a caffeine crash, you found yourself unable to keep some rogue yawns at bay. It was only eight o’clock in the evening, not an unreasonable time for you to ask Spencer to drive you back home. The rain was letting up to a mellow drizzle. Spencer was running out of excuses to keep you here.

     But you thought about how still hadn’t heard about his first pet lizard, which he caught in his backyard, and you didn’t yet know what kind of music he listened to when he was fourteen. And you no longer thought you needed to make excuses to stay with him longer, so you told him honestly that all you really wanted was to stay the night with him and keep hearing his stories. So you asked him if he would set on a fresh pot of coffee, just so you both could sip at it, staying awake all night together.

     He happily did so, and while he set the large coffee pot on and took out two cups from his cabinet, he thought, this is the first of many wishes of yours that I’d like to make come true.

______

PART THREE

Tag list: @rexorangecounty @rachel-voychuk @snitchthewitch @spencer-blake-supremacy @happyreid187 @rainsong01 @librarymagic 

[triplexdoublex]

I’ll Try Anything At Least Once

Pairings: Colson x Reader 

Warnings/Tags:  Watersports/piss kink/wetting , omorashi/desperation, biting, praise kink

A/N: Here have another one of my older reworked fics while I finish up the other 3 fics i have going right now. I promise the next one will be brand new.

“Baby, you’ve barely touched your water,” Colson says from where he sits across from you at the table of your favorite casual restaurant, located in your local mall. You’re there celebrating your two-year anniversary.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, it’s just that this steak is so damn good,” you say as you reach for your water glass. Colson watches intently as you take a large gulp, almost finishing the whole glass. “Guess, I was thirsty,” you laugh. “The food’s delicious, but it’s definitely salty.”

“Aye, after dinner, I was thinking we could go get you some new lingerie and I, uh… I kinda wanna try something new tonight.” He smiles as he refills your water glass from the small, glass pitcher on the table.

“Ooooh, like what?” you smirk. “You know I’ll try anything at least once.”

“You’ll see,” he teases. “Now drink up.”

You’re not sure what his current obsession with your water intake is, but you drink nonetheless. By the time the waitress returns to see if you would like dessert, you’ve finished your second glass. Colson immediately refills it as you look over the dessert menus.

“Colson, what the hell is up with you and the water tonight?” you ask, perplexed by this odd behavior. “For God’s sake, I’m about to piss myself.”

He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, his  blonde eyelashes fluttering closed briefly at your words.

“Maybe that’s the point,” he speaks, his voice low and lust-filled.

“Colson, you can’t be serious,” you practically laugh, taken aback.

“I am,” he admits with blushing cheeks, “but if you’re not into it, just forget I said anything, alright?” he states, sounding slightly defensive.

“Hey… no, look, I’m sorry,” you apologize as you reach out to stroke his arm. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all. I meant what I said earlier; I’ll really try anything at least once.” You smile apologetically and can’t help but to be intrigued by his kink.

You decide to forego dessert and make your way to the lingerie store where Colson picks out a simple, yet sexy, silky, white bra and panty set with lace detail.

“These are gonna look so good on you when they’re all soaked and clinging to your pussy,” he whispers seductively in your ear from behind you, placing them in your hand. You never thought you’d be into this kind of thing, and maybe it’s just the lust in Colson’s voice or the three cups of water weighing heavy in your bladder right now, but something deep in your pelvis stirs at his words.

Colson stays close behind you as you head to the cashier. The line is long, as it always is when the holidays are near, and the need to use the bathroom is getting stronger with each passing minute. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you sway your hips in desperation, trying to resist the urge to physically hold yourself in public. Suddenly you feel Colson’s hand on your hips, stilling their movements.

“Baby, you’re killing me right now,” he says softly, digging his chin into your shoulder from behind you. “Feel what your little dance is doing to me?” he breathes in your ear, discreetly pressing his clothed erection against your backside.

“Colson!” you warn, reaching for the various lotions and body sprays that line checkout area, smelling them to distract yourself and ultimately picking out a few to purchase.

When it’s finally your turn to check out, you place your items down and brace yourself with your hands on the counter, crossing your legs at the ankles and squeezing your thighs together, effectively holding back the stream threatening to run down your legs.

After the transaction is complete, Colson takes the bag, strategically carrying it in front of himself. “Let’s head to the bathroom,” he suggests as you exit the store, heading back into the mall.

You’ve never felt more relieved to hear those words, but the feeling is short lived. Once inside the single stall family restroom, you begin frantically pulling down your panties as you make your way to the toilet, but Colson stops you.

“Unh-uh, that’s not what we’re here for,” he teases with a smirk, stepping between you and your destination, palm pressed against your shoulder.

“Colson, please!” you plead, clutching at your bare crotch, panties halfway down your thighs.

“No,” he answers sternly, “but feel free to keep begging. I love how needy and desperate you sound,” he says huskily. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

“Then why are we here?” you groan, beginning to pull your panties back up.

“Aye, not so fast,” Colson places his hand on the crotch of your panties, stopping you from pulling them back up. “Baby, these are all wet,” he says, caught off guard by his accidental findings. “It better not be…” he pauses, trailing his hand up your inner thigh and discovering your slick folds. “Mmmmm, good girl. You like holding yourself for me, don’t you?” he teases, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Maybe,” you smirk with blushing cheeks, unable to tell where the pressure of your full bladder stops and the pooling sexual desire in your abdomen begins, the two sensations mingling as one. Colson smiles, reaching into the pink striped bag of your purchases and pulling out the matching bra and panty set he bought you.

“Here put these on,” he says, tossing them to you. “That’s why I brought you in here.”

“Now?” you question. “Why don’t we just wait until we get home?”

“Cuz when we get home, I just wanna take them off you… after you wet them for me, that is.” 

You do as you’re told, stripping out of your current undergarments and replacing them with the new ones as Colson watches intently, resting against the wall.

“You should help me with this while we’re in here too,” he teases, cupping his obvious erection, showing off the large outline through his jeans.

You squat down in front of him, not wanting to kneel on the public restroom floor, the positioning making you all the more desperate for relief. Colson unzips his jeans and you tug them down to mid-thigh, followed by his boxers, his bare ass pressed against the cold tile wall.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other grasping his length, he guides himself into your mouth. You bob over his length half-assed and sloppily, too focused on clenching your muscles trying not to pee. Colson notices your lack of skill at the moment, taking over and pumping himself, but he doesn’t mind. The sight of you squatting and squirming, hand pressed firmly to your core is enough to bring him close to the edge.

Assisting the best you can, you lick and suck on the head of Colson’s length as he strokes himself, occasionally slapping the tip against your tongue. The fullness of your bladder is becoming close to unbearable, and you let out a muffled, high-pitched whine as a strong urge to release washes over you, causing you to clutch yourself with both hands. The sound and sight is enough to send Colson over the edge.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna c-cum,” he chokes out in a barely audible, throaty moan as he guides his length to the back of your tongue, spilling down your throat. You do your best to swallow every drop, running the tip of your tongue over his slit, making him shudder before pulling him from your mouth completely.

“Listen, I’m all for pissing myself for you baby, really I am, but I’d rather it not happen by accident in public, so if we could head home now, that would be great,” you practically beg as you throw your dress back on.

“Oh, you’re no fun.,” he teases, doing a slight jump to get his skinny jeans back up over his ass and zipping them.

“Colson, please!” you plead, bouncing in desperation.

“Kidding, kidding,” he laughs. “Let’s go before you make me hard again.”

***********************************

“Are you doing that on purpose?” you ask, ripping your seatbelt off on the way home.

“Doin’ what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Hitting every damn pothole so my seatbelt squeezes my bladder!”

“Maybe,” he laughs, “But come on, baby, put your seatbelt back on. I’ll stop. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says seriously, reaching across your body to grab the belt, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Fine,” you answer, taking the belt from his hand and buckling yourself back in, all while giving Colson a warning eye.

He keeps his word but the ride seems to last forever, and you don’t know how much longer you can hold it. You spend the rest of the drive with your hands squeezed tightly between your shaking legs, and your head leaned back on the headrest with eyes clenched tight.

“Baby, we’re home,” Colson says, lightly grazing his hand over your lower abdomen, breaking you from your concentration. You moan at his touch, the light pressure causing you to feel like you’re about to piss or cum, you can’t distinguish which. Colson helps you out of the car and into the house.

“Baby please, I can’t hold it any longer,” you beg the second you’re through the front door.

“Fine,” Colson says, quickly pulling your black dress up and over your head, tossing it to the floor and throwing your lingerie clad body over his shoulder.

“Colson!” you shriek, the pressure from his shoulder against your bladder forcing a trickle to run down his chest and darken a large spot on his heathered grey shirt.

“Mmmm, baby,” Colson moans at the warm sensation. “Come on, we’re almost there, you can hold it. You’re doing so good,” he praises, as he carries you up the stairs. You’re not exactly sure what his plan is, but you assumed whatever he had planned for this would take place in the bathroom, so you’re more than surprised when he carries you to the bedroom and tosses you down on the sheets of your unmade bed.

“Colson, I told you I can’t hold it anymore,” you plead, laying on your back with your knees tightly pressed together.

“I know… go,” he smirks, palming himself through his jeans.

“Here?! b-but the bed…” you exclaim, sitting up suddenly, grabbing at the sheets on either side of you.

“Don’t worry about the bed baby, we got one of those mattress protectors when we bought the mattress and I’ll take care of the sheets myself,” he promises. “Now, come on baby, wet for me,” he begs, as he pushes your panties to the side, inserting two fingers.

“Colson, fuck,” you whimper as his fingers curls upwards inside of you, forcing small spurts of urine out.

“Come on, more baby, let it all go,” he says, pulling his fingers from you, licking the wetness that’s gathered on them as he pulls his length from his jeans with his free hand and begins pumping himself.

You close your eyes and relax your bladder expecting a large gush, but only an agonizingly slow stream starts to flow due to the pressure in your overfull bladder. Colson strokes himself, watching and praising you with half-lidded eyes as what’s left of the dry spots on your white panties turn wet and translucent, clinging to the contours of your folds.

After a few moments, the pressure lessens and the flow picks up into a gush, flowing through the white fabric of your panties in a stream, soaking the bed around you. The relief is almost orgasmic, causing you to moan and whimper as your bladder finishes emptying.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. So good for me baby,” Colson praises when you finish, his eyes glazed over by lust in a way you’ve never seen them before.

He turns you over onto your hands and knees, moaning as he runs his hands over the wet fabric, admiring how they cling to your backside before pushing them to the side and entering you quickly. Guttural moans of your name form in his throat as he harshly grips your hips, slamming into you at a relentless pace. The wetness of your panties transfers to the skin of his pelvis with every thrust. He takes notice, gliding his hand over the moisture on his skin.

“Oh, shit!” he cries out, driven insane with pleasure at the feeling and picking up the pace, fucking you harder than he ever has in the two years you’ve been together.

“Yeah, baby, just like that. Fuck me, fuck, me!” you chant, loving his new-found intensity. He continues thrusting at a fast pace, sounds of colliding wet skin echoing throughout the room.

“Oh God, Colson, fuck,” you cry out, gripping the sheets as orgasm nears.

Leaning over your back, Colson reaches around to your clit, rubbing fast-paced circles through your soaked panties. Kissing roughly along the width of your shoulders, he sinks his perfect teeth into the crook of your neck, hard enough to leave marks as he cums. You bounce back on his length as he rides out his orgasm with slow, hard thrusts, achieving your climax moments later which jolts through you like lightning.

“Oh fuck!” you scream as your arms weaken, your face sinking into the pillow.

Colson sings your praises of how amazing you did for him as he peppers your back with gentle kisses before pulling out. You roll to the dry side of the bed and Colson collapses on top of you, the both of you out of breath.

“Oh God, baby, thank you.” Colson expresses his gratitude as he kisses your neck. “You have no idea how much that got me going.”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.” you tease. “Let’s just say we will definitely be doing this again.

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Natasha x reader (romantic) and r spending lots of money to buy gifts for nat just because they miss her for 1000 followers celebration plz

A/n: I wasn’t sure if you meant after a break up where r is trying to get her back or they were dating but not in the same place but I decided to go the less angsty route because I’m in the mood for fluff. And I accidentally wrote too much oops.

Three days of you being on a mission and Natasha is officially bored. She didn’t realize how much of her day was taken up by you until you left and she had nothing to do and nothing to look forward to. It should scare her, how much she’s come to rely on you, but right now the only emotion she can feel is loneliness and worry. She doesn’t know much about the mission other than it’s classified and you would be gone for a month. Before you left she tried to pry information out of you but apparently Fury had caught on to the fact that you tell her everything because you were getting briefed for the mission on the plane. 

Tony’s teasing voice brings her out of her thoughts. “Missing Y/n already?”

“No,” she denies despite the fact that she was just thinking about you, “I was just thinking ahead to the dinner with government officials next weekend.”

“So you wouldn’t be interested to know that a package arrived at the compound today addressed to ‘My Tasha’ from Y/n?” he asks, obviously pleased with your use of a nickname.

She scowls at him. “Give it here.”

“I don’t think I-” Tony’s eyes widen in fear when she starts stalking towards him. “What I was trying to say is that I don’t think I have any more time to waste talking to you so here is your package, goodbye.”

He places a small package on the table and leaves the room quickly which Natasha cannot help but be satisfied with. She takes her time opening it, smiling at the wrapping that isn’t quite perfect. Inside she finds a folded piece of paper and a jewelry box. She opens the letter first.

Dear Tasha,

I’m writing this before I leave on the mission so that I can send it but you’re reading this after I’m already gone. I don’t know the exact day that this will arrive but what I do know is that I will already be missing you when you read this. I love you so much and I can’t imagine how hard it will be to stay away from you for a whole month but I know we’ll get through it together.

Love always,

Y/n

P.S. I hope you like the necklace, I bought myself a matching one (sort of, you’ll get what I mean when you see it).

She smiles at the letter and holds it close to her chest before she realizes she’s acting dangerously close to how the girls in romcoms usually are. Moving onto the necklace she opens the box to find a silver chain with a charm that says your name in delicate cursive. The cheekiness of the gift makes her shake her head, still smiling. Your matching version must be her name. It’s cheesy and possessive and everything she would have hated in the past but it’s you and maybe it’s strange but she likes that she can wear your name and you can wear hers. If the others notice when she starts wearing it around the compound they wisely decide not to comment.

A week later she receives another small gift and letter. You tell her about how the mission is going well so far and you thought of her when you saw the book of Russian jokes so you just had to buy it for her. It’s nice to know that you think of her when you’re in the field because god knows she can’t stop thinking of you.

The gifts keep coming, accompanied with short letters. Each one of them makes her smile, the only disappointment being she can’t respond. The packages increase in frequency when your mission gets extended to two months instead of just one. They’re completely random, some cheap and some expensive and all different types but she appreciates all of them. She doesn’t understand how every single one of them can make her feel so special and she relishes the feeling, unused to being the priority in someone else’s life.

Nothing compares to having you next to her though so when the day finally comes that you’ll return from your mission she is practically vibrating with excitement the entire morning. She keeps it cool in front of the team but as soon as you step off the jet she can’t help herself and runs to wrap her arms around you, pulling you in for a kiss.

“That is quite a welcome.” you say once you pull away.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you tell her, “although I’m sure you could tell.”

You notice the necklace you gave her as your first gift on her neck and pull back the collar of your shirt so she can see you’re wearing the one with her name. She reaches her hand out to fiddle with it for a second before leaning in to kiss you again. The gifts were nice but having you here is much nicer.

[bibliocratic]

muddle along or: the Pokemon / TMA crossover I’ve been promising @speakerunfolding for AGES jonmartin early S4

Jon considers the knapsack left for him.

Exhaustion is already feasting on any clarity he might have obtained in the near quiet. His body stiff, unused to the casual labour of his bones. The storage room, its shelves overburdened, the air vents popping like cracked knuckles, has gained nothing in his absence except a resurgence of dust and, in a dismal corner, a pile of boxes and a suitcase. A pathetic truncated shrine to his thirty odd years of living.

They moved his possessions here, when his rent went unpaid, when his water bills and council tax and internet payment reminders piled up like demanding snowdrift on his mucky welcome mat. Mutely, he glances over the hastily sellotaped boxes that now form his packaged-up life with all the distance that six months of bad dreams have afforded him.

He wonders who packed up his kitchenware, despairing at the mismatched cutlery harvested from student halls and charity-shop finds; clucked their teeth at the bread freckling mouldy in the barren landscape of his fridge; folded his clothes neatly into the suitcase he always kept stuffed under his unmade bed, even pairing up his socks; who took the books off his shelves in the belief he might thumb through them again one day.

He wonders if it was Martin.

Basira gave him the knapsack some hours ago. When he’d found some semblance of normalcy in the dull weight of a sandwich coating his stomach, dressed in clothes that now hang like rags off a coat hanger, sat at the table in the otherwise empty staff room with the heat of a cup of tea cactus-prickling his palms.

“He asked if you’d look after them,” she’d said. The strap of the bag held securely in the jaw of her Absol. “While he’s – well, you know…” She waves an exasperated done-with-it hand that manages to express a multitude of emotions that refract and merge like the morphing shades of a bruise. “Doing whatever the hell it is he’s doing. Or he thinks he’s doing.”

Jon wishes he knew.

He sits cross-legged in front of the storage room door, a sharp-boned barricade, thrumming like a struck tuning fork with the thought that even here, he will not be safe.

Gardevoir is a heavy weight against his shoulder. She’s quieter than he remembers, solemn and sombre in her new form. She used to demand being lifted up when she was Ralts, her flat red horns digging into his chest and leaving impressions, scrabbling down to shelter half-behind his legs when strangers approached. He left for the Unknowing and she’d been Kirlia, her face set and her cries insistent and infuriated, trying to push her Pokeball into his hand to make him bring her with them. Tim hadn’t asked where she was, when they all piled into the rental car, Houndoom taking up one of the seats in the back but snarling when Basira suggested putting her in her ball.

Jon doesn’t know when she evolved. It pains him, a dull-knife strike of thought, another wave against his tide-bashed flood barriers, to have slept through such a moment in her life when every other milestone they shared together.

“Now is a good a time as any, I suppose?” he asks her. His voice traces above a whisper. His Abra has calmed now, drained down from a difficult and teary reunion, and is now breathing deep and slow, curled into the port of his crossed legs. His three-fingered hands are still clenching the fabric of Jon’s shirt.

Gardevoir nods. Then gives him a nudge and a look when it seems as though he’s stalling, when he must be bleeding out apprehension like watercolours seeping through paper.

“Can’t get anything past you now, huh,” he says. She smiles, fond and he manages a short smile back, and it is almost, almost like it was before.

The bag is old, its original function probably for a laptop of some kind. The plasticky outer skin of it has rubbed away, flaking to mesh at the edges, the piping worn down to wires. Jon folds back the front of the bag, and inside there are four Pokeballs, the basic and cheapest red-and-white models. Jon had worked a thankless summer job at a beach-side amusement arcade to save up the money to get Ralts a customised ball, and had done similar when Abra came along a few years later.

To the side of the Pokeballs, ziplocked and labelled, there is a small forest of freezer bags bulging with berries and treats and care equipment. In a plastic pocket, there are precisely written instructions pertaining to each Pokemon and their requirements, and Jon’s throat tightens unexpectedly to see Martin’s looping joined-up handwriting, to see words that seem penned by someone who doesn’t expect to be coming back.

Gardevoir makes a low noise next to him. Her arm alighting on his, a solid weight, grounding. Jon clears his throat and takes out the Pokeball nearest the top, pushing the button on the front so the size balloons to fill his palm.

Most people have one Pokemon, maybe two, unless they’re involved in competitive breeding and training. When Abra came along, he remembers his gran remarking on the upkeep, how it would be his responsibility to feed and care for and train them, and it hadn’t been the cheapest venture but Jon had born the expense gladly.  It doesn’t surprise him that Martin has amassed so many in comparison to the norm.

At lunch one day years ago, the weather nipping frost-touched, they’d sat outside a cramped cafe because there’d been no seats indoors, and Martin had confessed that he was always taking them in. Thinking back, Jon knows that Martin was attempting to keep the conversation buoyant, coaxing him away from deeper, darker waters. Jon remembers being irritated, sore-eyed with sleeplessness, his spine strung with paranoia.

“My lost causes, Mum called them,” Martin had said, and his voice had tried for a levity that landed without cushioning. He’d torn off a bit from the end of his panini to feed a hopeful-looking Pidove pecking expectantly around their feet. The cause of the conversational turn, Martin’s newest acquisition, had sat grumpily mewling on the other man’s knee, wriggling and sniping as he tried to feed them some medication he’d got from the vet. Despite himself, Jon had been distracted from miring thoughts of Gertrude by watching Martin’s charade unfold, the man making a show of giving up with a theatrical sigh to scratch the Nidoran behind the ears in a show of defeat, being careful of their spikes. The Nidoran had headbutted his hand whenever his motions slowed to stopping, and Martin had used the distraction to fold a chorizo slice he’d pulled from his panini around the pill, which the Nidoran had happily snaffled from his fingers, gulping it down before returning to demand affection.

“They’ll be all healed up within the week,” Martin had continued, plastering over the continued lull with his chattering. “I’ve taken in a few Nidorans before, they tend to be pretty hardy.” He had scratched under the Nidoran’s chin as his words ebbed with the nudging of an undemanding tide.

Jon had picked at his sandwich as Martin had fold him about hiding Pidgeys and Swablus in an old shoebox under his bed, lined with the nesting material of some of his t-shirts donated to the cause. A chipped-edge bowl borrowed from the kitchen brimming with water and his own early team of Pokemon keeping them company while their wings healed in their splints before they were strong enough to leave again.

These four Pokeballs in the knapsack aren’t just random strays. They’re Martin’s Pokemon. The ones that never left him, the ones that he’s raised and doted upon and taken worriedly to the Pokecentre over every cough and sniffle and fever.

And for the meantime, they’re Jon’s.

Jon presses the release button on the first ball.

There is a chittering surprised coo as an Oddish materialises in a buzz of light and reforming matter.  They reform to stand a little higher than Jon’s ankle, only to fold their leaves half over their eyes at the unkindness of the halogen strip light. They totter when they take a step, tumbling to sitting with an affronted noise before, with a determined heft, they rock themselves up to standing again. Jon’s seen Martin’s Oddish before, approaching every walk around the assistant’s office space like a tightrope. Tim had bought them a little plant pot as a novelty Christmas gift once, and they’d unironically loved it, hopping into it cosily and getting specks of soil all over Martin’s desk.

Their leaves are poked through with ragged little holes, like they’ve been nibbled away, the green tinged in places to a sickly yellow. In the bag there is a vial of luminous blue medicine, complete with dropper and application instructions. It’s a stress thing, he dimly remembers Martin had once explained to him. It’s like an eczema, of a sort, that afflicts Grass-types, but it affects Oddish’s balance when it flares up.

The Oddish looks at Jon. They don’t have a neck as such, so they lean their whole bulb-like body backwards on their stumpy legs to study Gardevoir, who gives a reassuring blink. They glance around the storage room and its uninspired treasures of boxes and the unpromisingly weak-seeming metal frame of the cot, with a fretful shake of their leaves. They’re expecting to see someone else.

“Hello,” Jon says. He clears his throat, attempting to present a friendly face, to avoid the grimace he senses forming at his discomfort, his presentation to a critical audience that is already finding him wanting. “I’m… well, I’m Jon. You’ve probably seen me before, I’m um… I’m a f-friend of Martin’s. He’s, well, he’s not here at the moment. But he asked me to look after you. While he’s – he’s away.”

Oddish blinks their beady round red eyes. Their leaves wave uncertainly with the lazy swish of palm fronds. They coo again, a longer sound, plaintive and stretched out in melancholy. They take the opportunity to look around again, a full-body swivel that has them unbalanced, but Gardevoir leans down with a careful hand to steady them upright.

Jon watches them amble off to study their surroundings. Every so often crying out in a searching noise. Gardevoir keeps an eye on them as they rootle around in one of the boxes they can reach.

The next few releases are equally unsuccessful. Skitty reforms only to barrel under the cot as a pink-and-white blur, slinking further back with his tail swishing furiously whenever Jon addresses him. One undamaged ear twitches anxiously. The next Pokemon fails to materialise at all, refusing to leave their ball.

This was a mistake. Martin should have known better, known him enough to see that he would be no good at this, his skills in offering comfort atrophied. He can barely take care of himself, these days. Never mind additional charges who are scared, who need reassurance that is rendered rusty in his throat.

He reaches out to cradle the last ball in his cupped palms. He knows who is inside. The youngest of Martin’s acquisitions, and as far as Jon was aware, full-on adverse to getting inside a Pokeball. Their favoured mode of travel was Martin, using him as a climbing frame while he attempted to work, kicking their little feet against his forehead, clinging giggly to his mop of hair to get a better view, squealing shrill and disruptive and delighted when Martin would playfully shake his head to rock them. He thinks with the uncertainty that memory offers him, that Sasha had loved them, lifted them and pretending to throw them while they chattered and babbled, snuck them berries when Martin wasn’t looking. Jon has paid ear to more than one lecture from Martin on nutrition and proper feeding times and sugar levels. They might have played with Sasha’s own Pokemon, like they had tottered after Houndour’s short and wagging tail when she was out of her ball, like they had ran after Skitty to join in games, but that memory has been scratched from recollection like initials scored out of tree bark.

They were by nature vocal, rambunctious, unthinking and unheedful of danger, a child really, and Martin had been forever apologising when Jon would find them where they weren’t meant to be, carrying them back cautiously and carefully to Martin’s fretful hands. He thinks Martin had thought that they had irritated him. It hadn’t been that. They had been so small, smaller than they should have been for their species, the runt of some litter abandoned or lost by their parent or cracked and emerging blinking from their egg over-early. They had been so curious, and the world of the archives had grown increasingly unsafe around them. Jon had worried, in his own poorly expressed way.

He presses the button, and aims at the ground. Martin’s Togepi manifests in a fizz of red light and sound crackling like champagne.

They turn around with a confused noise.

Jon gets the chance to voice an awkward, low-pitched ‘hello’ before they take one look at him and their face clenches upset, breath starting to bubble with sobs.

“Oh, oh, nonono, hey,” Jon says, scooping them up into his hands. Abra is dislodged, wakes up startled and teleports a few feet away with a ‘pop’ of displaced air. “It’s… nonono, shush, it’s alright.”

Big messy tears fall out of screwed up eyes. Hitching sobs lengthen into wails. Jon looks frantically at Gardevoir as he rocks and shushes the bawling Pokemon against his chest in a way Martin was so much better at.

Martin would know what to do, what to say. How all this could work out for the best. But Martin isn’t here.

Jon’s own eyes dampen.

“Shshshsh,” he croaks thickly. “It’s – it’s going to be alright. I’ve got you.”

He uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the worst of the tears. He strokes the top of Togepi’s head.

“It’s going to be alright,” Jon repeats.

Many hours later, Jon wakes up, cotton-mouthed and his back vengeful for the position he’s slept in. His legs, still crossed, have degraded to numbness that he’ll pay for as soon as he wants to stand. In his lap, he sees the matryoshka doll set up that’s occurred, Togepi exhaling with little whistling breaths into Abra’s chest, Abra’s face planted against Jon’s shirt. Skitty has emerged from his defensive fort under the cot to coil into a ball of heat, curled up in the crook of Abra’s overhanging tail. Gardevoir is half-awake in that dozing but alert way she has, and she must have turned off the light in the room because it’s dark except for the emergency glow from the fire-exit sign that casts the walls and floor in an unsettling green. Jon sees the husk of an opened Pokeball, the shadow of something small and yellow crouched on Gardevoir’s shoulder, and something inside him eases, just a little bit.

Oddish is looking up at him from the floor. Jon moves the only hand he has that’s not squashed under Abra, and when he sets it down they alight with an unsteady gait and he transfers them to the higher terrain of his knee. He rubs a careful finger along their leaves until they sit, their head nodding as they struggle to stave off sleep, although they still glance around with uncertain eyes.

The room has dropped colder. Oddish shivers along with Jon.

“I know,” Jon says. “I miss him too.”

[bopbopstyles]

CROWDED PLACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, cursing, some handcuffs)

WORD COUNT: 7.8k

CATEGORIES: roommate!harry, bi!y/n

MASTERLIST |  TALK TO ME | REST OF THE BIFICATHON

a/n: here is my entry for @harrysclementines​​ and i’s bificathon (view them all here)!!!!!! i had prompts 18 and 19 (”Y/N brings home girls and guys (roommate!harry)” and “Harry asks her about the differences in sex between guys and girls”) and here’s what happened. as a bi person i had SUCH a fun time writing this, and i hope you enjoy. named for the BANKS song of the same name. xoxo, love u all my bi angels!

“Are you saying I can just have sex in your bed without you there?”

You grimaced. “Actually on second thought, please don’t do that.”

“Only with you present, I promise.” The words were out of his mouth before he had even processed them, the unabashed flirtation so sexual and clear. It made your eyes widen and you stop midway through the sip of wine you were about to take. He didn’t even know what to say after that—did he apologize? He couldn’t read your face, couldn’t see if you were okay with his words or made you uncomfortable.

“H, are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

The nickname you had for him fell differently in this moment, the sexual context sending blood straight to his pants. “What if I was?”

or

Y/N is bi, Harry’s her roommate and curious

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

Harry found out you were bi by walking into your shared kitchen and finding a girl struggling to figure out your shared intricate coffee maker dressed in your clothes, her hair tangled around her shoulders.

“Need help?” He asked, walking toward the stranger in his kitchen.

The girl’s head bounced up at the sound of his voice and sighed. “Fuck, you scared me. Uh, yeah, thanks. I was trying to make coffee for Y/N but…”

He chuckled to himself and nodded for the girl to move to the side. “Nice of you.”

“I’m Emily, by the way,” the girl told him. “You’re Harry, right? Y/N mentioned she had a roommate last night.”

Harry flicked some buttons on the machine, fiddled with the coffee filter, and then the machine whirred to life. “Yeah, I’m Harry. Y/N mentioned she was going to some club last night—that where you two met?”

The girl nodded, leaning against the counter. “Yeah.”

Harry paused, not really knowing what else to say over the sound of the coffee dropping into the cup situated below the spout. He had come in for some breakfast and coffee, but he didn’t really want to make small talk with your hookup of the week, if he was being honest. So he decided to table coffee, and instead grabbed a box of cereal from the cabinet and the milk from the fridge and made himself some cereal.

“Nice meeting you,” he said to the girl before turning around and heading back to his room.

“Bye,” Emily replied and with that he left the kitchen, beelining for the safety of his own space.

Settling down into his bed, he thought about the girl in his kitchen and you, obviously still tucked into your bed. You two had never really had the conversation about your sexualities—you’d become roommates last year through an advertisement you placed on Craigslist and had spent most of the year just figuring one another out and becoming friends. The topic had never really come up and he had just assumed—wrongly, apparently—that you were straight, since he only really saw you with guys. Although, to be fair, there were nights that you didn’t come home and he didn’t know where you ended up on those nights.

He didn’t care in the slightest, just intrigued by this new piece of information he had discovered. He was curious, if he was being honest, but he didn’t really know if it was his place to ask you about it. Was that rude? He didn’t really know. He’d never just…found out about his friends’ sexuality like this, usually they told him outright at some point, so he was in uncharted territory.

Perhaps he’d just let you bring it up. Or he’d mention that he had met Emily in the kitchen, and see where the conversation went. He settled on the latter, deciding that would open the discussion up but not be too aggressive. More than anything, he wanted you to feel comfortable talking to him about these kinds of things, and also know that he didn’t mind who you brought home or dated.

So, he settled into his pillows and turned on Netflix, starting up a crime documentary he hadn’t seen yet, and ate his cereal.

When he resurfaced two hours later, you were in the kitchen with a skillet of eggs cooking, scrolling through something on your phone and sipping on a cup of coffee. You greeted him with a quiet “good morning” and he responded with the same, before going to the sink to rinse out his bowl and place it in the dishwasher next to him. Then he grabbed himself a cup of coffee, adding a dash of milk, and settled in at the breakfast bar.

“So,” he said, making you turn and look at him. “I met Emily this morning.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but then you nodded. “She told me. Said you helped her with the coffee maker.”

“I did.” He took a sip of his coffee and paused, unsure of what to say next. “She seemed nice.”

You stood up and fully turned so you were facing him, your phone forgotten on the counter. “Yeah, she is.”

“Are you going to see her again?”

You seemed a bit shocked by the question, but shook your head. “I’m not really looking to date anyone right now.”

There was the confirmation he’d been seeking—that Emily had in fact been a hook up. “So all the people you’ve brought back…?”

“Are just some fun,” you finished. “Where’s this all coming from? We don’t usually talk about this stuff.”

“I was just trying to figure out if I needed to prepare to have another roommate,” he quipped, and you snorted before turning back around to where your eggs were sizzling in the pan.

“What about you?” You asked him, using the spatula next to the stove to lift the eggs out of the pan and placed them on a light blue glazed plate, one of the ones you’d bought when you moved in and adored. Harry was banned from using them, relegated to the white porcelain ones he’d purchased.

“Sorry?”

You grabbed the salt and pepper and sprinkled a bit on your eggs, then grabbed your slices of toast from the toaster where they were waiting. “Are you looking to date right now?”

He hadn’t been expecting you to throw the question back at him, but he figured you had every right to. He’d asked you, why not share himself? “I mean, if I met the right person I would be. But I’m not like, actively seeking a relationship.”

With a set of silverware in one hand and your plate in the other, you walked towards him, setting your food on the counter on the other side of the bar so you could face him as you ate. For some reason, you loved to eat standing up  and it had never made sense to him. “So you’re not on dating apps and all that? Hinge and that shit?”

He shook his head as you swiveled to grab the jam from the fridge and began to spread it on your toast. “I can never figure out how to talk to people on them. They’re just so awkward.”

You nodded in agreement before taking a bite of your toast. “Meeting people in person is way better. I tried one once and it was so unpleasant. Felt like so much work, you know? Like finding someone shouldn’t feel like a part-time job.”

He chuckled to himself at your observation. “Right? I’d rather just meet someone through friends or something and talk to them, be able to figure out in person if there’s something there.”

“One time I’d been talking to this girl on Bumble for two weeks, we met up, and I immediately was like, ‘fuck I have no sexual interest in her.’ You know? Like there was no chemistry. We would’ve been great friends, but the other stuff? Nada.” You always talked with your hands and even did in this moment, you slice of toast in one hand and a fork in the other.

“What’d you tell her?” He asked, taking another sip of his coffee as you took a bite of egg.

“The truth,” you said, covering your mouth as you spoke and chewed at the same time. He loved how comfortable you two had become with each other, the natural result of sharing an 800-square foot apartment with another person. “And then she texted me like a month later saying she thought ‘We had really good energy’ and wanted to see if I was interested. So I had to tell her again that I wasn’t interested.”

“Shit,” he said. “That’s brutal.”

“Yep,” you replied, popping the p of the word as you took another bite of your breakfast. “So, what are you up to today?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

“I was planning to go to IKEA to look at a new bed frame and look at all the room set-ups—want to come with?”

It was one of your favorite shared activities, which you had discovered when he had moved in and needed to buy a whole host of new furniture. You’d tagged along since you knew the apartment better, and you’d ended up spending practically the whole day inside. Since then, it was your rainy day activity.

“What’s wrong with your current bed frame?”

You shrugged, picking up your toast and taking a final bite. “It creaks too much. I think it’s just old, so I want something different.”

Harry tried not to think about why your bed creaked so much, and instead told you he’d come with.

Harry was pushing you around IKEA and frankly you were having the time of your life. Just to piss him off you’d gotten into the cart, folding up your body and leaning against the front of the cart, and he’d just rolled his eyes at you and called you a child before rolling the cart towards the entrance to the store.

You had made it through the bathroom section without much incident, but when you had reached the living rooms you had decided that you simply had to try out all of the couches, even though neither of you needed to buy one. Together you developed a rating scale—firmness of cushions, bounce level, and ability to lay down comfortably. A couple ranked high on all three scales, but none just blew you away, so you jointly decided you definitely didn’t need to invest in another couch for no reason.

In the kitchen department, you both oohed and ahhed over countertops and backsplashes, pointing out appliances you desperately wanted. You tried to convince Harry that you really needed new bar stools, but he wasn’t swayed. However, he did relent and allow you to buy some new spatulas and other kitchen utensils after you told him they were replacements for the current ones, which were two years old at least.

Finally, you reached the beds. Bed after bed laid out in front of you, just waiting for you to try them out and see which one was both sturdy and sleek. You beelined for the first one, sitting down on the mattress and looking up at Harry, who was leaning on his elbows on the handlebar of the cart and watching you.

“Come test it out with me,” you said, patting the bed next to you. “I need to see how the weight of two people feels on it.”

His eyebrows furrowed, but he left the cart and moved towards you. He was dressed in one of his favorite sweatshirt, a black one he’d gotten in Tokyo at a DJ Harvey and Keb Darge party, and a pair of blue jeans with a frayed hem, and white Vans with the pink and blue laces you’d given him for his birthday threaded through each one of the shoes, a beanie covering his curls and his black sunglasses tucked into the neck of the sweatshirt. You adored Harry’s clothes, frequently stealing them which he found aggravating and you loved doing for that very reason.

He settled on to the bed next to you, his knee knocking against yours as he settled back on his hands. “So? Thoughts?”

His eyes flickered over to you. “Seems sturdy enough, but I hate the headboard.”

You turned to look at the headboard, which was just one long piece of skinny blond wood. Upon investigation, you also hated it. “Agreed. Next one!” You scampered over to the next one, which had a wrought iron headboard in black and you quite liked the look of it. The rest of your furniture was black and your duvet was a light blue, so it would fit in perfectly. “What do you think of this one?”

Harry moved to sit next to you and shrugged. “Seems good.”

“The headboard up to par for you?”

“I like it. You?”

You nodded and then looked at him, deadpanning, “You could hook handcuffs through it.”

Harry choked on air, before bursting into laughter at your comment. “Is that a priority for you? The ability to handcuff someone to your headboard?”

“Honestly, yeah. Otherwise what good is it?”

He bit back a smile, and then turned to look at the other beds around you. “Well on that basis, we can cut out most of the beds here. Ones like these are the best, nothing that’s wood.”

“Know from personal experience, do you?” Harry blushed and you poked his side. “Didn’t know you were so kinky, Styles.”

“Right back at you,” he replied. “So what other tests are involved in the purchase of a bed?”

“Well,” you began, pushing yourself higher on the bed. “Mine creaks a ton, so I need to know how much this one does.”

He glanced between you and the bed, and then the number of people around. “What’s your plan? Jump on the bed or something?”

You shrugged. “Maybe. Got a better idea?”

“You could like, try and push it forward and back?”

“Go for it.”

Harry stood up and walked to the head of the bed, grabbing onto the frame and pulled it forward and back—or tried to. The headboard didn’t budge and you watched with a quirked smile. “It’s not moving,” he mumbled. “Maybe that’s good? Means it’s strong and all that?”

For being two 26-year-olds, you realized, the two of you still didn’t know much about furniture. “Probably. But I still think we should do the jump test.”

“I am not jumping on that bed with you.”

“Harry…”

“No, Y/N, we’re in the middle of a store!”

You huffed out a breath. “Fine.” Then, you turned over and got up on your hands and knees and pushed all of your weight into the mattress and moved backward and forth, trying to see if it would creak or sway as you moved. You could feel Harry’s eyes on your form but you paid him no mind, your focus on the task at hand.

Harry, meanwhile, swallowed thickly as he watched you, the sway of your body sending thoughts he really shouldn’t have been having through his head. Did you realize what you were doing? The position you were in and what it made him think of? Probably not.

“I think this one’s actually pretty good,” you informed him, turning over and lying down on the mattress. “Should I get the mattress too? I’ve had mine for like five years. What’s the lifespan on a mattress?”

“Dunno,” Harry answered, leaning his arm against the wrought iron headboard. “Can you afford both?”

You groaned and sat up. “Why on earth did you have to bring up money? I was having so much fun until you got all responsible on me.”

“Hey, someone’s got to have some sense in our apartment.”

“And that someone is you?”

“You’re the one who wanted to jump on beds in the middle of IKEA on a Saturday, not me.”

You huffed out a sigh and pushed yourself off the bed, coming to standing. “Come on, let’s go look at desks.”

“So you’re getting this one?”

You nodded. “It’s the best one for the handcuffs, isn’t it?” He blushed and you walked ahead of him, letting him push the cart after you.

You spent the rest of Saturday deconstructing your old bed frame and building your new one with Harry’s help. It was definitely a two person job—screwing together the support pieces to the headboard and placing the slats properly, lifting your mattress onto your new bed. By the end of the whole process you were tired, hungry, and a bit cranky, but you had a new bed that you adored. Harry ordered you both pizza, and you opened a bottle of red wine once you’d finished your food, pouring you both a glass.

Harry was sitting on the couch, his sweatshirt long gone, in just his jeans and a black t-shirt stretched across his muscular upper body. In the year he’d lived with you, he’d gained a significant amount of muscle mass, transforming from the more ropey guy who moved in, into this man who looked like a fucking Greek God after a day in the sun. You carried over the wine, handing him his glass and setting the bottle on the table for refills that would definitely occur.

You picked up the remote, anticipating a night of re-watching each of your favorite trashy teen dramas from the early 2000s (yours was What a Girl Wants or the Lizzie McGuire Movie, depending on your mood) when Harry spoke.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” you answered, taking a sip of your wine and opening the Netflix app on your TV.

“It might be a bit too personal, so if you don’t want to answer, just don’t—“

“Harry, just spit it out,” you said, cutting him off.

“What’s the difference in sex between guys and girls?” His question was rushed, but you made out every word and it made you choke on your wine a bit.

You set down your wine glass and turned to fully face him. “Like…generally?”

The blush that crept across his cheeks was endearing, obviously regretting the question once it was out of his mouth. “I don’t know. Fuck, forget I asked—“

“It’s fine,” you told him. You considered his question, mulling over the experiences you’d had with both sexes and comparing the two. To be honest, you didn’t spend much time comparing them because they were different in so many ways. “The most glaring thing,” you began, “is that sex with women can just keep on going until one of you like…can’t anymore. There’s no waiting or anything like there is with guys. So it means that it’s really intense for like a long period of time.”

He was listening intently, fingers tight around his wine glass as you spoke. To be frank, you couldn’t really believe you were having this conversation with Harry of all people. “I guess it’s also different because you don’t have penetration with girls—at least, not in the same way. I’ve never used a strap-on with anyone, just like oral and hands, so it means those things are more intense, in my opinion. Also, girls are really fucking good at oral—not that guys aren’t—but it’s just so good.”

“What makes them better?”

“Not better,” you said, “just different. Softer, in my opinion—like their fingers and hands are softer. And they also can figure out what you need faster, or maybe that’s just the people I’ve been with. There’s definitely something to be said for being a woman and knowing what other women need.”

If it wasn’t for the wine in his hand, Harry might not have had the courage to have this conversation. It had been sitting in the back of his mind for ages, before he even found out you were bi, but now that he knew you were you were one of the few people he could talk to about something like this. You were also one of the few people he trusted to have this conversation with and it to not become too awkward. He felt more comfortable around you than he did with most other people, that was for sure. He considered what you had said, mulling the words over in his head. Softer. He understood that—he loved the softness of women when they touched him, their longer fingernails and the kitten licks they spread over his body.

“Why do you ask?” You tucked your legs up, hooking your arm around your knees as you took another sip of your wine.

He chewed on his lip for a minute, rubbing his finger across the exterior of his glass. “I was just curious, I guess. I didn’t know you were bi until you brought Emily back, so I just started thinking about it a bit. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you told him. “I guess I didn’t even realize you didn’t know, to be honest. I don’t really feel the need to constantly be coming out to people, if that makes sense. Especially if I trust that they won’t care either way.”

“It does.” He shifted forward, taking another sip of his wine and mirroring your position. “And I don’t care either way, just so you know.”

You gave him a smile. “I appreciate that.” You fiddled with the hem of your pajama shorts, the old ratty blue ones from Target you’d had since college, before asking the question floating around in your head. “Now that you’ve asked me a sexual question, it’s my turn.” His eyebrows jumped, but he nodded his okay. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to try?”

“Are you asking me about my kinks?” He asked, a playful grin on his face, and your eyes fluttered down in embarrassment. “To be honest, I haven’t really tried all that much—haven’t been in that many relationships where I feel comfortable trying stuff out, you know?”

“You’ve obviously tried handcuffs,” you quipped, and he blushed.

“I haven’t, actually. Just…thought about it, I guess.”

“Well,” you said, the wine emboldening you, “you’re always welcome to try it with my bed.”

He laughed, one of his full body ones that made you smile widely at him. “Are you saying I can just have sex in your bed without you there?”

You grimaced. “Actually on second thought, please don’t do that.”

“Only with you present, I promise.” The words were out of his mouth before he had even processed them, the unabashed flirtation so sexual and clear. It made your eyes widen and stop midway through the sip of wine you were about to take. He didn’t even know what to say after that—did he apologize? He couldn’t read your face, couldn’t see if you were okay with his words or made you uncomfortable.

But then you saved him, giving him a small and flirtatious smile, one he’d only seen you give others, never him. The one where your eyes had a fire to the edges, a slight curve to your pink lips, your tongue dart out to wet them. “H, are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

The nickname you had for him fell differently in this moment, the sexual context sending blood straight to his pants. “What if I was?”

The conversation had taken a rapid turn and it had your skin warming, your brain abuzz. What if he was? You had to admit, you’d always found Harry attractive, from that first moment you met him in a coffee shop after he responded to your Craigslist ad. You had always told yourself it was just normal attraction, the same attraction you had to that boy you’d known your entire life and knew was attractive but never actually considered anything more with. It was platonic. You lived with the guy, for Pete’s sake—you witnessed his messy room and how he struggled to cook fish properly and when he had vomited after a night out with his friends. You’d seen him at his worst and at his best, but so had he.

Living with Harry had brought you close in a way you didn’t expect—you didn’t necessarily share everything with him, but he knew you in a way few others did. He could read you well, know how your day was by the way you entered the apartment. You liked the same type of movies, you had routines, you shared about your families over pasta dinners and a bottle of wine when the power was out and you had nowhere else to be. More than anything, you felt safe with him, comfortable, valued. He had always gone out of his way to make sure you felt comfortable with living with him and you thought he was honestly the best roommate you had ever had. You were endlessly grateful he responded to the ad and you’d ended up living with him.

But sex with him? Would it change everything? Probably. Would it change it for the worst, though? You weren’t sure. “Would it change anything?” You asked hesitantly.

He paused, the tension between you thick in your small living room, the soft light from the lamp in the corner basking you both in a warm yellow glow. “Not unless we wanted it to.”

You swallowed thickly. “Then I wouldn’t say no,” you said, voice soft.

Harry’s eyes were boring a hole in yours, his breaths shallow and frequent, panting as you both stared at each other, trying to figure out if what you thought was going to happen would actually occur. “Are you sure?” He asked, leaning slightly towards you.

You lowered your legs so that your knees weren’t up to your chest, and pushed your body closer to his in answer. He reached out and hesitantly brought his hand up to your cheek, his palm warm against your skin, finding your gaze before leaning in to close the distance between you.

The second his lips brushed yours you wondered why you hadn’t done this earlier. With his hand cupping your cheek, he pulled you in closer, his free arm wrapping around your lower back and tugging you into his body. He tasted like pizza and red wine and you thought that you probably did too. Your hands reached up to grip the back of his neck, holding him closer to you and shifting towards him. It felt electric, kissing him, and you were falling into it faster than you could think, craving more and more from him, desperate for his touch and the way he prodded open your lips and touched your tongue with his own.

He was grabbing at your hips, squeezing your skin through your pajamas shorts and the oversized band t-shirt you wore, the pads of his fingers digging into you and his rings heavy against your clothes. Fuck it you decided, and pushed back on his shoulders a bit, unwinding your legs, and swinging them onto either side of his hips, settling firmly into his lap. He looked surprised at your movement, but not mad, especially whenever you adjusted and brushed over his hard-on.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips when you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as you kissed him. Pushing up the hem of your shirt, his fingers danced across your back, sliding up your bare skin. You never wore a bra at home, something he’d long ago gotten used to, but to have you pressed to his front, your nipples peaking out, and feeling your bare back under his hand was a completely different experience.

You tugged on the ends of his hair and he groaned into your mouth, a smile spreading across your lips that were between his. With your teeth you tugged on his bottom lip, pulling it away from his mouth and watching as his eyes fell to your mouth, his chest rising and falling as you let go of his lip and sat an inch away from him. Then, he was surging forward again, holding your head in one of his hands and pulling your mouth back to his, chasing you.

Everything about the moment felt good—from the way his hands felt on you to the smell of his cologne and the shower gel you both used, the shared laundry detergent on his clothes. His lips on yours, the prod of his tongue against yours, the way the sounds that left him rang in your ears. Your chest was crushed against his, knees tight against his hips, pushing him back into the pillow behind his head so that you were both horizontal on the couch, your body hovering over his.

The two of you lingered in that position, letting the swivel of your hips over his pelvis draw moans from you both, soft and breathy sounds that filled your living room. Harry’s hands ran under your shirt and then back down to your hips to guide you, a path he repeated over and over again and you weren’t complaining. You loved the feeling of his hands on your body. You were resting fully on his chest, your nipples hard under your shirt as you ground yourself against him, your forearms resting on the pillow behind his head for leverage.

When his hips bucked up into yours, you couldn’t help but rasp his name, a “Harry,” falling from your lips with ease. You trailed your lips down his neck in response, pushing at the neck of his shirt to find the spot at the base of his neck where you sucked harshly. His fingers pressed tighter on your hips and you smiled against his skin. “Like that?” You asked, licking over the mark you’d made.

“Yeah,” he said, rolling your hips over his. You could feel how hard he was through your pajama shorts and his jeans and you were curious. Living with him you’d seen him in just his briefs and the occasional swimsuit when he was heading to the pool with friends, but you’d never seen him fully nude. However, you had a pretty good idea of his size and you couldn’t say you weren’t eager.

Slowly, you inched your hand down his chest, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt, loving the noises that spilled from his mouth at the feeling. When your hand reached his jeans, though, he pulled at your wrist, ripping you away. “What?”

“I wanna do you,” he said. “You were talking earlier about oral and now I’m curious where I fall on the scale.”

He was going to kill you, wasn’t he? “Okay,” you told him, pressing your palm into his torso. “Where do you want to be?”

“Bed,” he replied, nudging at your nose. “Let’s see how much that new bed creaks.”

You pushed up off of him, and he followed you to your bed with his hands on your hips, tugging you back into his chest mid-way through the way to kiss you again, pulling a gasp from your throat when he surprised you. When you pushed open your door, for the first time there was no point in closing it behind you because the only other person who could have seen what was happening was already in the room with you. Harry’s body mirrored yours as you stepped backwards towards your bed, following you as you fell onto the duvet that you had placed there only a matter of hours earlier.

You wanted his skin, to see him and feel him in this way, and so you pushed at the hem of his shirt, the word, “Off,” sticking in your throat when he pulled it up and off of his body, tossing it to the side without consequence. Bare skin stretched in front of you, covered in swirlings of black ink that you had seen before, but never like this. Never when it was yours to see, to touch, to feel. So you took full advantage, sliding your palms up his chest as he leaned back down.

“Your turn,” he mumbled, sucking on your nipple through your shirt, your back arching towards his mouth in a silent beg for more. Fingers pressed into the sliver of your stomach that was exposed, and you raised your arms as if to tell he could push it off, which he did, creeping the fabric up your body and leaving kisses in the wake of the hem. Once it was over your head, he licked over your bare nipple and your a wet mewl left your lips.

“H,” you rasped, tugging on the locks of his hair, the strands threading between your fingers.

His head bounced up, the forest green of his irises barely visible, his pupils blown out with desire. “What?”

You opened your legs wider, and Harry smiled devilishly at you, giving your cleavage on final pull with his lips before creeping down your body. You didn’t stop him when he went to tug off your shorts, nor did you stop him when he laid between your legs, or when he licked and sucked and pulled at your inner thighs, making your chest shudder with desperation.

Nor did you stop him when his tongue touched your clit, licking a straight line up from your slit to your bud. Instead, you gasped his name, a curse mixed in falling from your lips, and tugged his head closer to you. He’d collected saliva on his tongue without you realizing it and the wetness of it was running all over your hot skin, a distinct slurping noise filling the air that only made it hotter. You picked up your head and watched in rapture as he licked into you, his curls falling into his face as he moved between your legs.

He alternated between sucking on your clit and swiping at your slit, nudging his tongue into you just to drive you crazy. Which he succeeded in doing, based on how your hips picked up when he did it, chasing the pressure he left in his wake. He was turning you into a mess, a mess only for him, desire and your orgasm falling through you faster than usual. For some reason he had been concerned about how good he was, but now he was between your legs and you didn’t know how you had gone twenty-six years without him. How you had lived with him for a year and never felt him like this, seen him like this—his head tilting up and the sight of your juices on coating his lips and chin, his tongue darting out to taste them.

“So?” He asked, pressing into your plush thighs, his rings leaving an indentation in their wake. “Where do I fit on the scale?”

“You haven’t made me come,” you responded, voice rough, breath catching in your lungs as you tried to inhale properly.

A wicked smile flashed onto his face, and then he brushed his tongue in a circle around your clit, your fingers tightening in his hair. “I’m not done yet.” Then he was back between your legs, drawing mewls and moans from you like it was his job, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the mattress, back arching as you tried to grind down on his face. You could feel your walls tightening around nothing and you needed something there, a little bit more.

“Your fingers,” you said, picking up your head to look at him. “I need your fingers.”

Harry glanced up at you, before he answered your plea with his touch, not his words. Not being a man for warning, the tips of his forefinger and middle finger brushed at your entrance just once before pushing inside of you, a deep and unrelenting moan flowing from you with ease. “Yeah? That feel good?”

You could tell he liked praise and so you tightened your hold on his hair and muttered a Yes, bringing his lips back to your center as he drove his fingers inside of you at a brutal pace. The sound of his fingers and your wetness echoed in your ears, but the louder sound was Harry’s grunts and moans and curses below you whenever he brought his head up for air. Somehow, he seemed to be enjoying this as much as you, which definitely gave him some bonus points in your book.

“Gonna come for me, Y/N?” His words were rough and deep, a lower octave to his voice you hadn’t heard before, and it made you desperate for him. Your hips pushed down against his hand, craving more inside of you, and that was when the cold metal of his rings brushed your entrance. The coldness against the warmth of your skin felt heavenly and you mewled at the touch, Harry chuckling lightly from where he laid.

You could feel your belly tightening, the tell tale sign of an orgasm quickly approaching, but you needed just barely more from him. You didn’t know what it was, but you needed more. So you asked, a “More, please,” leaving your mouth in a chant.

He was unfazed, doubling his pace inside of you and suckling on your clit repeatedly before letting his lips fall to your entrance, slipping around the taught skin with his tongue to add to the sensation. It had your back arching and you knew you were mere seconds away. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you called into the room, your grip on his hair lethal as he licked you into your orgasm.

It crashed into you and he fucked you through it with his fingers, sucking and pulling on your bud as you rode his fingers, back arched and a series of curses circling around you. “Beautiful,” you barely heard him mumble into your skin, the low rumble of his voice sending vibrations through you.

Once you’d regained your breath he was crawling up the length of your body, kisses littered across your bare skin. “Fuck,” you said, a chuckle leaving you as you were reacquainted with the sight of his face hovering above you.

“So?” He asked, hands coming to rest on either side of your head. “What’s my rating?”

You tugged at his neck and dropped his body to yours, his lips meeting yours in a cruel fire. You rolled your hips up and wrapped your legs around his waist, shoving him to the side that he rotated, falling to his back and you above him. “You know exactly how good you are,” you told him, licking and pulling at his neck. “You arrogant asshole.”

A laugh rumbled in his chest, his hands coming to sit on your waist as you brushed back and forth on his jeans. “I distinctly remember you asking me not to stop, so I’m going to go with a high rating? Perhaps the best of all the men who have come before me?”

You knew his ego was big enough that you didn’t need to inflate it, but for some reason you did anyways. “You’d be right about that,” you told him, shoving his legs apart so you could sit between them and popping the button on his jeans. “Now, can I fuck you?”

Harry laughed one of his full body laughs, his head raising off the bed at your words. “Yeah, go ahead, sweetheart,” he said once he’d calmed, a smile stretched across his face at the sight of you between his knees.

With a roll of your eyes, you tugged on the denim, pulling it down his legs. “Do you ever wear underwear?” You asked him, pushing the material off the bed and gazing at his erect pink cock resting on his belly.

“Why?”

“Just trying to figure out how you manage to walk around with that thing and no underwear.”

“Oi!” He said, a frown fixing onto his lips at your laughter. “It’s not a thing, it’s my dick and it’s about to be fucking you, so no mean words, hmm?”

When your fingers wrapped around him all of his laughter and complaints were gone with a string of curse words, his hips bucking up at your touch. You pumped him a few times, nosing at his thigh just to rile him up a bit more. He was warm and heavy in your grip. For the most part, you found dicks the same as all body parts, but Harry’s was beautiful in a way few were. It made you even wetter than he had left you and gathered saliva on your tongue, and when you pushed on the tip delicately with your thumbpad and heard him groan, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer.

You pushed up off of the bed and he whined at your absence, but you ignored him. You had a mission. Rifling through your bedside table, you finally landed on the item you were searching for—the handcuffs you’d purchased a few months ago and had been waiting to try out.

Harry’s eyes widened at the clink of the metal and watched as you swung them on your finger, a coy smile on your face. “Remember these?” You asked, moving to the headboard where you threaded through the wrought iron. “Didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?”

“No,” he said, gulping and raising his wrists to you, pliant as ever.

“Good,” you answered, a kiss to each of his wrists before securing them in the handcuffs, tugging on the chain to make sure it would hold. “Now then.” You re-positioned yourself over his hips, one knee on either side, and trailed your fingers down his chest. “You look so pretty laid out for me like this.”

Harry’s mind was spinning as he gazed up at you. He’d never felt quite like this—so powerless, but so desperate for someone. You’d turned him to mush with just a few touches and he wanted you in a way he had needed few. The handcuffs weren’t what did it, either, it was the way you touched him, the quirk of your smile and your laughter, how you had bucked into his face, how your fingers touched his skin. He didn’t realize until he was underneath you how long he had been waiting to be there at your mercy, willing to take any shred you’d give him.

“You okay?” You asked, voice soft as you touched his cheek.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “I’m okay.”

You leaned down and kissed his chest, before snatching the condom you’d laid out on the duvet. Rolling it down his length he hissed at the touch, but you tried to be gentle, knowing that the handcuffs were probably a lot. Then, you rose up onto your knees, positioning yourself over him, and raised his cock, brushing the tip against your entrance. Your eyes found his as you lowered onto him, a groan leaving both of your chests as you took him.

“Holy shit,” he said as your hips met him, his length fully inside of you. “Shit, Y/N.”

You rocked back and forth on him, your fingernails digging into his chest at the feeling of him fitting so snugly inside of you. “Feels so good,” you mumbled, your words long gone from making sense. It always happened—you lost the ability to think about what you were saying, words becoming a string of consciousness. “So deep, H.”

“Yeah?” You could hear the handcuffs rattling against your headboard as you moved over him, but the bed wasn’t creaking yet, just shifting back and forth. His hips raised up to yours, pushing him deeper inside of you somehow and it made you both moan, deep and unrestrained.

Not having to censor your sounds was a completely different experience and you loved it. Your eyes flickered up to where his wrists were clasped in the handcuffs, his nails digging into his palms, the cross tattoo on his thumb shining in the light of your bedroom. “How do they feel?” You asked, bouncing up and down on him.

He couldn’t answer at first, mind swimming from the tight metal on his wrists and the way you held him inside of you so snugly. His whole body was warm, from his sweat and your touch and just the overwhelming desire rolling through him. “Like them,” he finally got out, because he did. Something about the restraints made it more intense, the fact that he couldn’t touch you, the fact that you were just fucking him like you wanted to. It was making his orgasm rush towards him, a twitching throughout his body he was barely staving off.

“They’re hot,” you said, using your knees you speed up your tempo, needing him faster inside of you. “Like seeing you all tied up.”

Usually you didn’t feel this comfortable this quickly with someone you were hooking up with, but with Harry you knew he would never judge him. You trusted him fully and here, in this room, was no different. “I’m close,” he rasped when you swiveled your hips, brushing him against your g-spot and whining out his name.

“Yeah?” Your fingernails crept down his torso leaving long red marks in their wake. “Wanna see you come, H,” you mumbled, splaying your palms out on his abdomen, which was taut from the pleasure he was trying to hold off.

“Fuck,” he yelled when you clenched down on him, his hips bouncing up immediately, slamming against yours. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” then he was coming, the combination of the cold metal on his wrists leaving him at your mercy and the tightness you held around him combining to send him toppling over the edge.

You bent over, your torso resting on his and fucked yourself on him as best you could, not wanting to overwhelm him but also chasing your own release. The sound of your name on his tongue, a raw and unhinged moan ripping through him from his own sensitivity. “Close,” you said, kissing across his collarbone and blowing softly on the mark you’d left earlier.

The sight of his eyes screwed shut and the panting of his breath, the way his chest heaved as he tried to calm down, mixed with him begging for you to find your release left you squirming above him, body rattling with your orgasm. You clenched down on him as you came and he grunted at the feeling, but you couldn’t stop it, a call of his name leaving your mouth.

It left you worn-out and desperate for cuddles, so you reached up, unfastening the handcuffs and releasing his wrists. His hands found your skin immediately, hooking them around your back and pulling you flush. You lifted up off of him so that he could pull the condom off and you whimpered at the loss. “Tired,” you mumbled into his chest.

“S’okay,” he replied, kissing the top of your forehead. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shutting your eyes against his skin. “How was that?”

He let out a breath, taut and tight in the room. “Fucking insane,” he answered, and you giggled next to him as he pinched your ass lightly. “You’ve been hiding that from me for all this time, huh?”

“Guess so.”

He chuckled, nudging your forehead with his chin. “Think you might want to do that again sometime?”

You picked up your head, opening your eyes to look at him. “Sure I didn’t scare you off with the handcuffs?”

“Fuck no,” he replied in a rush. “Blew my mind.”

“Then yeah,” you told him. “As long as it’s my turn next.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up, and then a grin spread across his face. “Your turn, eh?”

His red-tinged wrists wrapped around you and smothered you in kisses, your hands batting at his body in a fit of laughter, but he didn’t quit. Instead, he pulled you close, a final press of his lips to your cheek, and you settled in against his body, knowing he’d be there in the morning.

He was your roommate, after all—where else did he have to be?

thank you for reading!!!! please go check out the other writers in the bificathon here, reblog this fic, and come chat with me in my inbox about this fic if you liked it. xoxo love you all!

[lavendersb]

Provider

Din Djarin x reader

Summary: Din wants to give you the universe. Making you see stars seems like a good place to start.

Warnings: Smut, this is str8 up sin, fingering, soft!dom Din, service!dom Din, overstimulation, so much praise, i wrote this at 3am so if this is hardly literate im so sorry :)

@maybege​ i have you to blame for encouraging my sinful behaviour 

Din doesn’t know how he survived before you.

Of coursed he coped, he hadn’t become the best bounty hunter in the parsec without a certain level of diligence. His structured Mandalorian upbringing had taught him the importance of being capable and organized, of always being one step ahead.

But the child had brought with him its own unique set of challenges. Din could deal with the bounty hunters and imperial forces, they where nothing new to him. The joys of parenthood however had taken some getting used to.

He was an angel most of the time. Din could spend hours with the little womp rat and not encounter the slightest hitch, but when the fancy struck him, the child could turn into a little terror of angry gargles and twitching ears. The fact that he could also throw items around the crest with his strange magic powers didn’t make these tantrums any easier for Din to handle.

That’s when you had arrived. Offering your services as caretaker and claiming to be a half -decent mechanic as well, Din had hired you almost instantly. The child was almost as taken with you as he was, and from that moment on, Din never looked back.

He learns quickly that you had been very modest about your skills. Not only where you capable of handling whatever the child threw your way, you could also help with just about any problem the crest came up with. Din also learns that you’re not bad in a fight, and on the odd occasion he invites you out on a hunt with him. You work together like a well-oiled machine, united by a common goal of protecting the child. Protecting each other.

Perhaps it was your caring and capable nature that drew Din closer to you than he ever expected he would. Regardless of what it had been, Din has never felt as happy as when he comes home to see the love of his life waiting for him with his strange little son.

This is where his mind has wondered as he trudges through the swampy mud back to his ship. The bounty was on planet thankfully, so Din never had to worry about bringing the quarry near to his safe haven. The safe haven in question, the metallic body of the razor crest, peeks out at him through the trees and Din’s feet just can’t move fast enough.

Din lowers the ramp, and as he reaches the warmly lit interior of the hull he can’t help but pause a moment in shock.

The hull when Din had left it was a state. On the previous planet you had returned to the crest just as a team of Jawas had started to tear it apart. Thankfully Din had managed to scare them off before they could cause any real damage, but a fair few interior wall panels had already been unscrewed and tossed aside. This morning Din had left the hull in that same state. Now it was as if there had never been any damage at all.

But there, in the centre of the hull is the thing that makes Din’s heart clench beneath the beskar. You’ve set a small metal container on the ground, filled it with some warm water which gently steams, and placed the little green child inside for a bath. He watches where you kneel beside the tub, grinning at the child as he holds one of your fingers in one tiny hand, and splashes the water with the other.

“Hi,” you say through a slight laugh, snapping Din out of his reverent staring “we’re almost done here”

Din walks forward, coming to stand beside you and bending to press his forehead to yours softly.

“Did you fix the ship?” he asks softly, though he knows the answer.

“Yes,” you confirm, pulling away from him reluctantly. The child, now wholly interested in the return of his father, reaches out to Din and begins to babble uncontrollably.

“We’ve had a busy day, haven’t we? But you’ve been such a good helper,” You say to the child, and Din watches you fish the wriggling child out of his bath and wrap him up in a soft towel. He notes that the task of fixing the crest must have taken almost all of the day, and having to keep the child entertained at the same time wouldn’t have made it easy for you.

“Mesh’la, have you eaten today?”

Din takes your silence as an answer and his happiness falters just a little. Of course you would prioritise your task and the child before yourself. Sometimes he wonders how you would survive without him.

“I wanted to wait” you reassure him weakly “enjoy my break when the work is done”

“I’ll take him from here, you should rest” Din says, leaving no room for argument.

He takes the child from you, now dressed in a freshly cleaned robe (another task you’ve completed that he wants to thank you for). Din sees a moment of doubt pass over your face as you try to argue with him, but the feeling of tiredness creeping into your bones wins you over. With an acknowledging smile, you kiss the child on the head and disappear towards the nearest bunk.

Din takes care of the last few jobs of the day, content in the knowledge that his love is resting nearby. He makes the jump to hyperspace first, cradling the child in his arms. The little bundle is still warm from the bath, and Din watches his big glossy eyes blink slowly at him, trying to savour the last moment seeing his Buir’s shiny helmet before he falls asleep.

Once the child is safely asleep in his cot, Din goes to fish through his bag, producing one of the fresh bread rolls and a selection of berry’s he bought before he returned. He plates them with the last of the soup that’s left, and once he’s finished his own portion and secured his helmet back in place, he calls out to you to join him.

Woozy and half asleep, Din watches fondly as you float towards the little kitchen set-up. The sleep in your eyes is replaced with excitement as you catch a glimpse of the fresh food on the table.

“Din,” you breathe “you shouldn’t have”

“It’s the least I can do for everything you’ve done today”

Din watches as you happily devour the food. He listens intently as you tell him all of the things you and the child got up to that day. How long it took to fix the panels, how the two of you played out in the muddy swamp for a while before you brought the child in for a well needed bath. This domesticity is something so new to him, but you make it feel easy. Just like you made it easy for him to fall in love with you. He would give you the galaxy, Din thinks, if only he knew where to start.

When the food is finished, Din clears the plates away but there’s a feeling deep down in his soul that he can do more for you. There’s still something else he can provide. As he sees you walk away towards the refresher, he knows he must act fast.

Din crowds you against the wall, pressing you against the panels you’ve just diligently fixed. A hand that rests at the back of your head prevents you from hurting your skull, and Din lets his fingers wind through the strands beneath them. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at his visor, surprised by his sudden movements and hopeful, Din can tell, that he might be about to pull unspeakable pleasures from you.

“Have I taken care of you? He asks quietly.

“Y-yes”

“No,” Din chastises “I haven’t. Not yet. Tell me what you need”

Your lips flutter as the words Din seeks dance around your mouth. He encourages your response by fisting your hair a little harder, not to be cruel, but to ease you into his instruction.

“You, Din” he finally hears you gasp “I need you”

Pride swells in him at your words, and he moves the hand in your hair to wrap around the small of your back and fasten on your waist, pulling you close to him whilst he presses you to the wall.

“Then you’ll have me”

Din uses his free hand to pull at the obstructing fabric that keeps him from the apex of your thighs. Softly, but without preamble his hand dips to your heat and makes a gentle swipe through your folds, groaning when he finds it warm and soft and so very wet already.

His fingers find your clit and with tiny, firm little circles he plays with it to his hearts content. Din feels you tremble and sag against him, enjoying how accepting you become to his touch.

“My sweet girl,” Din breathes, and it’s said so reverently it makes you tremble and mewl just that bit more.

“My sweet girl, you’ve worked so hard today” The movements against your clit slow and you whine in complaint. Din chuckles and shushes you “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whine desperately, moving to grip the arm that reaches between your legs, hoping to encourage it to move again.

Din smiles beneath his helmet, satisfied with your compliance as he returns to your clit with vigour, plucking from you tiny gasps that draw his hungry eyes to the way your pretty chest rises and falls.

“Then cum mesh’la. Come so I can fuck your pretty cunt with my fingers”

And oh how that filthy promise pushes you off the edge. He feels you stiffen in his arms and pulls you closer to him until you feel crushed by his solid presence. You can hardly register it though, too lost in the waves of pleasure that don’t seem to ease at all. Din doesn’t stop playing with your clit until your pretty moans turn to gasps and pleas to stop.

He doesn’t remove his hand from you, simply sliding his fingers down to trace that little fluttering hole he loves so dearly. He watches your face the whole time, enjoying how slack it goes when the first finger makes a teasing press against you.

“Pretty girl you take such good care of us, but you neglect yourself” he teasingly scolds, pressing into you a little further with his finger and watching you keen at his tone.

“Would you like to be taken care of? Is that what you need?”

“Yes, Din, yes” you nod frantically, squirming in his firm grasp.

He squeezes your hip in warning, before sliding his finger deep inside you. Both of you groan at the feeling of your soft heat welcoming his finger. He starts to pump into you, his pace direct and precise, hitting against that soft spongy spot with each push. Din wanted to give you the galaxy, making you see stars seemed like a good place to start.

“I knew from the first minute I saw you that you’d be so warm and soft everywhere” Din says as you cry out for him “and I was right, wasn’t I mesh’la? Your cunt might be the warmest, softest thing in the whole galaxy”

As he adds another finger, Din swears he’s never felt more whole then when he’s breaking you apart like this. Letting you be tender and vulnerable. You break apart for him so well he muses.

“Won’t you cum for me?” he says, and stars you’ve never wanted to come so bad in all your life. Not just because you think you might explode at the way his fingers are aiming for that spot that makes you cry out in pleasure, but also because you want- no need him to know how much you love him. How grateful you are that he treats you so well.

When you do cum its electric. You reach for Din’s pauldron for support, gripping the metal as you rock against his hand. He feels you soak his palm and groans, shamelessly grinding himself against whatever part if you he can.

He doesn’t pull his fingers from you, instead he massages your walls gently watching you twitch when he rubs that special place inside you. He waits until you meet his eye through the visor, expectantly waiting for him to withdraw his fingers.

Instead he presses his thumb back against your thoroughly abused clit and holds you tighter as you give a startled jolt against him.

“Din,” you whine, and he smirks at how wrecked and helpless you sound “I can’t-“

“You can” he insists, picking up the pace of the fingers inside you “You’ll cum again because I’m telling you to. Because I’m taking care of you, right?”

You can barely nod in response, your body to busy trying to cope with the overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. Din gazes at your face, taken by the way your brows pinch and fat tears fill your waterline and weigh down your eyelashes. 

The sight of you has him desperate, and he removes the hand from around your waist, using his torso to pin you to the wall so you don’t collapse. He tugs the cowl away from his neck to expose the tanned skin of his neck. You don’t need his instruction to know what to do next, and with what little energy left in your body, you lean forward to press messy, fluttering kisses to the skin over his pulse.

Din grunts, truly blissed out by the feeling of you on him doubles his assault on your sensitive heat. He barely hears your gasping warning before he feels you come utterly undone against him. Your cunt squeezes his fingers so tightly, and he makes sure to tell you that, though he’s not sure you can hear him. Your face is still pressed against his neck, breathing against him, and he swears he feels a wet tear drop against his skin.

“I love you, sweet girl” he says, pulling his fingers from you softly.

The hum that comes from your heavy, satisfied, and sleepy body tells him he’s done his job well. He lets himself feel proud. Upstairs, his child sleeps soundly in his crib. Well protected and well loved. Here, in his arms, lays his love. Soon she’ll be asleep in their shared bed, and Din will find himself wondering how he was blessed with such a wonderful and loving partner.