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#can you tell her favorite color's green
crsentfairy · 4 months
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ex-military soldier turned plant-loving pacifist
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mothbug · 1 month
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Suzy design concept. love her forever
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader - 18+ MDNI brief suggestive content, Christmas vibes (these characters do not celebrate Christmas religiously) 🎄 There'll be much mistltoeing / It's the most wonderful time of the year - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge
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"She's lovely." Laswell comments, standing at his shoulder in the living room.
"She is." He answers, but doesn't bother to look at her, too transfixed on you, watching the way you smile and laugh, champagne flute in one hand, baby in the other. Blood rushes through his body as he stares at you, marveling at how bloody good you look with the baby on your hip, and even though he knows it's an archaic mentality, he can't help but dream about giving you another. Kate gives him a smirk that he just barely catches from the corner of his eye, and he cuts her an exasperated look. "Excuse me."
"By all means."
He makes his way to your side where you're chatting with Gaz's date, Lily, wine colored velvet dress draped across your body, snug and silky across your skin. Your hair is done, styled differently, arranged on top of your head instead of your usual or pulled into something looser, shiny gold cuff curled around the top of your ear. You’re stunning, and his mind turns over, trying to determine if it’s okay or appropriate to tell you for the third time tonight that he’s obsessed with you, that he wants to get you home and worship you, wants to rip your dress off and ruin it. He wonders if you’ll let him take you home early, if you’ll be quiet for him when he bends you over the bed, if you’ll come on his cock all breathy and sweet with his name on your lips.
Emmaline sits embraced in nook of your elbow, white and green dress complemented by tiny, shiny, black shoes, babbling away at anyone who will look at her. She lights up when he steps closer, trying to tip out of your grasp towards his, discontent rising in her crumpled little brow when she can't break free.
"Hi." You beam, his hand finding the small of your back, Emmaline wriggling around to face him, leaning back with a big smile, knocking her head into his side. You roll your eyes at Lily. "I've become chopped liver to my own baby."
"Alright, sweet pea. C'mere then." He settles her on top of his forearm, chubby fist knotting into the collar of his shirt. "Let's give mama a break, eh?" You smile, relieved, reaching up for a kiss, tip toes stretching until he leans to meet you, and when you pull away, you give Emmaline one on her cheek, bright baby giggles echoing through the room. "We're going to see what the team is up to." He bounces her, and your thumb strokes a soft circle into his waist.
"Okay."
"There she is!" Gaz calls, and Emmaline squirms in Simon's grasp, pressing her face into his neck, head tilted just slightly so she can still see the guys, cheeks dimpled. She watches Kyle cautiously, incredibly shy, and Simon whispers to comfort her.
"What's wrong, baby girl? You're alright. It's just Gaz." She mouths at his shirt, and he smooths a hand over the back of her head softly. "She's not usually so reserved, loves attention."
"Ye're scaring her." Johnny admonishes as huffs, breath rolling in a fog through the chilled air, but when Simon turns, Emmaline whips around, peering over his shoulder to stare at Gaz, expression delighted.
"I don't think she's scared, Soap. Looks smitten to me." Johnny clucks his tongue, half outraged, and Gaz just laughs, stroking her cheek as she coos soft sweet nonsense towards him, making Johnny scowl.
“’m supposed tae be her favorite.” He grumbles, and Price barks out a laugh, clapping him on his back.
“Gotta get your own for that, son.” He shakes his head, reaching a finger out to her fist, letting her grab onto him. She immediately starts to drag it towards his mouth, and Price lets her, chuckling softly under his breath. “Needs something for her teeth.”
"I think we've got something in her bag." Simon rubs her back, watching how her eyes light up when she spots Price's beard, tiny fingers mindlessly drifting towards his chin. "Mama's been giving you frozen pacifiers, huh?"
"Ye should try scotch, my maw used tae give me some, when ah was a bairn." Johnny tickles his fingers across her side and she shrieks into a giggle fit, nearly choking on laughter that has him glowing with pride. "Who's yer favorite uncle, Emmaline? Is it Uncle Soap?" Johnny whispers in his best baby voice, and Simon snorts.
"She can't have scotch, MacTavish. She's a baby, and-"
"Alright out here?" You're standing in the door, half in, half out, teetering precariously on the top step, and for the hundredth time tonight you take Simon's breath away, light from the kitchen shimmering behind you like a halo, framing you in a soft, warm yellow glow, his stomach clenching.
"We're alright." He promises, already making his way towards the doorway, taking the stairs until you're within arms reach, Emmaline clapping her hands together when she spots you. "You okay?" He keeps his voice low, yet still tender, trying not to give the guys too much ammo, and you smile, spectacular and sweet, enough to make him melt on the spot.
"Yeah, just wanted to check on you two." You brush a finger across Emma's cheek, mouth opening to say something else when Johnny's voice rings across the patio, cheeky and smug.
"LT, ye're standın' under mistletoe." He hadn't noticed the cluster of greenery tacked to the bricked arch just outside the door, but it's hard to miss now, and when you glance above your head and laugh, he shrugs his shoulders. "Well..."
"Well?" You raise an eyebrow. A challenge. An invitation. Enough of both for him, encouragement not needed in the first place, his lips finding yours easily, pulling you into the bulk of his body, wrapping an arm around your waist while still holding Emma against his chest in the other. She bridges the gap between you, both of his girls safe and sheltered in his arms, and he blocks out the sound of Gaz and Johnny's shouting and whooping, focusing on the taste of your tongue, smell of your skin, plush lips against his. It's everything, you're everything, you and Emmaline- his family, his to love, to care for, to protect, emotion welling up in his chest that has him pulling away and pressing his nose against the top of your head, mouth finding your temple, your cheek, his eyes closed and breaths measured.
"Merry Christmas." He whispers, still holding you tight, and you dip forward to press a kiss to Emmaline's scalp, your hand reaching for his jaw, thumb reverently stroking across the scar on his cheek.
"Merry Christmas Simon."
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hopelesslygaysstuff · 4 months
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pairing: Wanda x fem!reader
summary: Wanda edges you, and you take it all like a good girl.
content warnings: whew, there’s a lot. Cunnilingus, fingering, choking, collar and leash play, choking, edging, spreader bar, restraints, overstimulation, vibrator, strap-on, passing out
word count: 4.6k+
masterlist
A/N: This was requested by @mrsromanovaa ! You can find the original request here.
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡
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Soon, Darling
“On the bed, darling. You know how I like you.” 
Wanda’s voice is firm, her accent rolling over each syllable as you attempt to not shiver at the command. Without speaking, you nod once and move your shaky legs towards the massive bed in the center of the room. Approving green eyes watch your movement, even as her face remains unreadable. 
Taking a few calming breaths, you position yourself on top of the soft comforter. You’re thankful for its dark maroon color, sure that you must be dripping as you move onto your back. After all, Wanda hadn’t been subtle with her teasing glances and forward touches throughout your date night. She knew which buttons to press, what words to say, and which times to whisper directly in your ear as you shivered beneath her. 
Even thinking about the evening the two of you had shared brought a pleasant warm buzz to your chest, and you refused to acknowledge what that buzz could mean. Shaking yourself from your rapidly spiraling thoughts, you smiled gently at your girlfriend, pleased at the wink you received in return. Excitement filled you as she moved to kneel on the foot of the bed, her fingers grazing your ankles as her eyes began to glow scarlet. 
Oh yeah, your girlfriend had totally awesome powers. And, she wasn't shy about using them around you. Suck on that, Vision. 
Wanda twisted her fingers, an object slapped into the palm of her hand, and all thoughts of her ex boyfriend left your mind as you realized what she held. The two of you had talked in depth about different things to try in the bedroom, but seeing it in person was slightly terrifying. But, also incredibly arousing at the same thing. 
You refused to think about what that meant for your psyche. 
The spreader bar was placed between your spread ankles, Wanda’s knees just barely touching it as she began to run her hands over your calves, fingers light and teasing. Oh, you were definitely dripping now. 
Evidently, Wanda could either see the evidence right before her eyes, a smile creeping onto her face as you willingly spread your legs further for her, or she could smell it. That was one of her favorite phrases to say, and one that never failed to turn you on even more than you already were. 
“God, you smell divine. Is that all for me?” She’d ask, and you’d somehow find yourself giving her every part of you that you had to offer. Sometimes you wondered how the events of an evening had unfolded, your brain went a little bit too fuzzy sometimes, only remembering how you felt during the experience. Wanda would reassure you, telling you that subspace was normal and nothing to be afraid of, and of course, you believed her. 
“Darling?”
Ah, there you went again. Getting trapped in your own head. It wasn’t your fault that you got lost in a train of thought. Or, maybe it was. Actually, thinking about it, it was totally your fault because it was your own head, right? And-
“Focus, love.” Wanda’s voice cut through your inner monologue, halting your thoughts immediately. In the space of a millisecond, you felt your brain get squeezed through a tube, the bedroom becoming sharper as you seemed to re-enter your own body. Green eyes peered down at you, searching your own as Wanda’s fingers gently stroked your face. 
“Sorry, I,” You didn’t get the chance to speak, Wanda’s finger pressing gently against your lips, understanding in her eyes. 
“It’s alright darling, are you ready to continue?” Her voice was low, reminding you of the heat pooling in your gut. You felt another wave of arousal, and nodded quickly. 
“Yes.”
“Good girl.” Wanda smiled approvingly, and you were grateful for the single lamp that glowed warmly in the corner of the room. At least she wouldn’t be able to see most of the blush that spread across your cheeks. Then again, judging by her knowing gaze, she definitely knew what her words did to you. 
Moving slowly, as if not to scare you, Wanda moved her hands firmly up and down your calves. It seemed almost as if she was giving you a massage, but when she grasped one ankle firmly while bringing one end of the spreader bar towards it, you knew that you were in for a long night. 
“Too tight?” 
You shook your head, eyes wide as you experimentally flexed your ankle. The strap attached to you didn’t budge, and you could feel the tension of the metal rod as Wanda moved to attach the rest of the spreader bar to your other ankle. She gripped the middle of the metal, giving it an experimental tug. 
Your body jolted, hips moving closer towards your girlfriend as she pulled you closer by the spreader bar. Her smile was nothing short of wicked, and you shivered at the hungry look in her eyes as they roamed your helpless body. At least your hands were free. 
Wanda gave you a look, twisting her fingers once again as your wrists were wrapped in scarlet wisps and pulled tight against the headboard. You sighed, of course she was in your head, the tricky little witch. 
“Behave.” She commanded, and you resisted the temptation to roll your eyes, knowing that would only bring punishment. You really didn’t want that, not after the hours of teasing she’d put you through during dinner. 
“Please, Wanda.”
“That’s not my name.” Her eyes were hot, fixed on your body as you squirmed slightly beneath her watchful gaze. The tension rolling in your gut was becoming overwhelming, and your clit throbbed as you feebly thrusted your hips towards her. 
“Please…” You begged, taking a deep breath, calming your racing heartbeat. 
Raising a single eyebrow, Wanda tilted her head. Your heart jump started, racing once again at the movement. Her hands moved teasingly over your inner thighs, fingers mere centimeters away from your messy pussy.  She was teasing you, the promise of her fingers finally granting you the relief you so desperately needed sending you over the edge of embarrassment.  
“Mommy…” You knew it sounded pathetic, but you couldn’t really control how your voice sounded at the moment. 
Wanda was pleased, a low sounding hum reverberating through her chest as she thought about her next moves. You waited patiently, knowing that this was the moment that she would decide if she was going to tease you for the rest of the night, or give in and pleasure you until you begged her to stop. 
Both options sounded great to you, so you weren’t too worried about the outcome of her decision. 
Deciding to test the strength of the newest restraint, you tried to push your ankles together. Your legs didn’t move an inch, and you realized that you were well and truly fucked if Wanda decided to tease you. There was no escaping, no matter how hard you tried. 
Again, you really didn’t want to think about what that could possibly mean. 
“I think,” Wanda started, and your ears immediately perked up. “I think that I need a blindfold.”
After announcing that very helpful and definitely not-at-all frustrating announcement, Wanda got off the bed, smirking at you as she made her way into your shared walk-in closet. You sighed, throwing your head against the pillows as you tried to control your reaction to her words. You knew exactly which drawer she was rummaging around in, and thinking about the multitude of toys within it made you want to squeeze your thighs together. Anything to reduce the unbearable ache between your legs. 
Oh, wait. You couldn’t. Wanda had made sure of that with a high quality spreader bar. You moved your legs again, realizing the only thing you could do was bring your knees towards your chest. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t get your legs to fully close. 
Giving up, you steadfastly ignored the rush of arousal accompanied by juices flowing from your pussy at the knowledge that your legs were permanently open for your girlfriend. In all honesty, you wouldn’t have it any other way. More arousal leaked down your inner thighs, and you smirked at the thought of what Wanda would say when she found a puddle of your own arousal beneath you. 
“You know,” Wanda’s voice startled you, and your eyes greedily took in her naked form as she made her way towards you. You didn’t imagine the extra sway to her hips, and you licked your lips as she moved to kneel beside you on the bed. 
Cold hands caressed your face briefly before Wanda placed a strip of fabric securely over your eyes, tying the back of it tightly as you raised your head helpfully. She continued speaking, even as you felt her weight shifting around on the mattress. 
“I’ve been thinking,” She moved towards your ankles, settling herself between your legs. Her hands gripped the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, kneading the muscles. “I want to use my mouth tonight, my tongue feels restless.”
You groaned, the sound coming out as more of a moan as Wanda chuckled somewhere near your drenched pussy. The last time she’d used her mouth, you almost passed out from the sheer amount of pleasure she had brought you, your clit over sensitive for the rest of the evening. 
Before you could properly prepare yourself, her tongue was pressed against you. She moaned, the vibrations hitting you perfectly as you tried not to roll your hips. 
Wanda liked it when you were still, or at least attempting to be still. She’d spent weeks training you, edging you for each movement you made while she slowly traced your clit with a single finger. You knew better than to move your hips while she was pleasuring you. 
But holy fuck did it feel good. 
It was almost enough for you to forget yourself, and forget all the training that Wanda had drilled into you. But you refrained, wanting to be as good as possible for her. After all, bad girls didn’t get to cum. 
You wanted to cum. Very, very badly. 
Wanda began flicking her tongue against your clit, the deep ache within you rising like a wildfire. The flames of your orgasm licked at your skin, and you let out a long moan that was supposed to be a plea. You felt her chuckle against you, her fingers digging into your hips as she buried her face deeper against your swollen pussy. 
Certain that you would find bruises all over your hips the next morning, you experimentally shifted your weight. The steady pressure of Wanda’s tongue against your protruding clit stopped, and you choked down the complaint that threatened to escape you. 
“Why did you move, sweetheart?” Wanda’s eyes gazed imploringly at you, but you wouldn’t fall for it. Her tone was sugary sweet, but you sensed a trap. “Didn’t mommy teach you better?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You winced at how breathy you sounded. It was pathetic, but Wanda’s fingers relaxed slightly from their tight grip on your hips, so you continued. “I forgot myself, you just make me feel too good, mommy. You’re very talented with your tongue, please do it some more.”
You felt like it was a bit overboard, but Wanda seemed satisfied and you were willing to do almost anything to cum. Strong fingers twitched against you, and you stiffened as you realized that Wanda was still in your thoughts. 
‘Emphasis on the word almost.’
A small smirk worked its way onto Wanda’s face, even though you couldn’t see it, but you felt it against you as she began sloppily making out with your glistening pussy. Her tongue slipped roughly against your clit as your juices coated her chin. You were like a drug to her, your taste both invigorating and addicting at the same time. 
Wanda couldn’t get enough. She could stay between your thighs for hours, reading your body language with each new stroke of her tongue, the sounds of your sighs and whispered moans wrapping around her head and pulling her headfirst into the very essence of you. 
It took everything in her to pull away from you, the tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm too overwhelming to ignore. Besides, she wanted to play with you for a little while. Also, you were adorable when you panted and tried not to squirm, chasing the last few droplets of pleasure she could draw from you before pulling fully away. 
“Mommy, please…” Your voice was whiny, and it only took a millisecond before you realized your mistake. 
“Good girls don’t complain,” Wanda summoned something, a piece of fabric that you couldn’t quite make out. Her eyes bore into yours as she continued, “Mommy doesn’t want to hear that, and you know better. Haven’t I been good to you? Aren’t I making you feel good? Soon, darling.”
Before you could say anything, the fabric she was holding was stuffed into your open mouth. Letting out a soft grunt as you readjusted your jaw, you stifled a moan as the taste of Wanda’s arousal hit your tongue. 
Pulling off the beautiful form fitting dress she wore, Wanda smirked as you realized what piece of clothing she’d summoned. She felt a wave of possessiveness enter your mind as you eagerly sucked on her ruined panties, your thoughts swirling at the knowledge that you had made her this wet. 
Pulling your ankles up, Wanda slipped between the spreader bar and your body, letting the backs of your thighs rest atop her own as she kneeled before you. Her hand drifted, teasing fingers tracing your hip bone as she admired the glistening heat between your legs. 
Letting her gaze travel over your body, she admired every inch of your skin as she made her way towards your face. Wanda knew that she would never get tired of looking at you, her eyes eagerly taking in every curve and contour of your body, mapping out different paths as you flushed beneath her. 
Green eyes finally met yours, and you saw her smile. Her fingers brushed over your mound, grazing your clit and collecting some of the wetness pooling between your thighs. A single finger traced your slit, teasing you as she chuckled. 
“Did you want something?” 
You let out a huff of air through your nose, tilting your head as you stared at her. Taking a chance, you let your hips move slightly. It was just enough to wordlessly plead with her, begging her to soothe the ache between your legs. 
A single finger entered you in one thrust, burying itself knuckle deep in your pussy, and you nearly sobbed in relief. You let out a long moan, letting Wanda know just how pleased you were, and missed the smirk that flashed across her face. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back as she began to move at a steady pace, curling her finger every so often and grazing that spot inside you that sent bolts of pleasure coursing through you. 
It was just enough, the perfect pace to sate the hunger that had been slowly building within you. 
The thrusts increased, Wanda adding a second finger as she watched your face contort around the makeshift gag. The pleasure changed, becoming overwhelming as your orgasm attempted to rise. You knew by now that Wanda wasn’t going to let you cum just yet, and despaired at the thought of being brought to the edge again. 
“Mnnfh, plmh mmhmm.” Your attempt at words turned into a groan, and Wanda let out a low hum. Her other hand reached up, wrapping around your throat loosely as she curled her fingers inside of you. 
“Soon, darling.”
The pleasure just kept building, your clit throbbing as it begged for attention. If she would just touch it, anything would help you fall over the edge. It took everything in you to not roll your hips, any attempt at repositioning so Wanda’s hand would go where you wanted would be met with a complete absence of touch. 
Pleased at your self restraint, Wanda gave a few more deep thrusts before removing her fingers completely. Before you could whine, or even process her movement, she tore her panties from your parted lips, shoving her fingers onto your waiting tongue as she bent down. 
The taste of your own arousal hit you, mixing pleasantly with the aftertaste of Wanda’s juices. Then, you felt a tongue licking gently at your aching pussy, collecting as much of your arousal as it could. You felt her tease your clit, circling it softly, and lamented at the lack of pressure. 
Wanda worked you up again, her fingers slowly moving in and out of your mouth as your tongue swirled around them. It was an effective gag, small moans escaping you as her tongue steadily applied more pressure. Your orgasm reappeared, and you desperately wished that you could close your legs around Wanda’s head. Anything to keep her where you needed her most. 
Almost as if she was reading your mind (oh, wait), Wanda pulled away. Pleasure coursed through you, fading quickly as the stimulation ended, and you let out a whimper. 
“Color?” Wanda asked, her voice soft as her fingers twisted again. A vibrator floated into her grasp, your eyes tracking it as you uttered a muffled ‘green’. You recognized that toy, it was one of Wanda’s favorites. The settings were adjustable using a knob, so she could set it at any intensity she wanted. 
“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asked, pulling her fingers from you briefly to let you respond. You opened your mouth, the pleas about to spill out, when the vibrator was placed directly against your clit. 
Jolting, you breathed heavily, and Wanda just raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t even turned the toy on yet, but just the smallest amount of pressure against your throbbing clit was sending you headfirst into subspace. 
“Yes, please.” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded, the only thing in your fuzzy mind was the thought of finally falling over that edge. The one she’d kept you on for hours. The one that would rack your body with pleasure, the edge that only your girlfriend could help you fall over. 
The vibrator clicked on, and you felt your legs start to shake. Wanda’s hand held the toy firmly against your clit, her other gently rolling your nipple between her fingers. You recognized the setting as relatively low, but it still sent pleasure shooting through what seemed like every nerve in your body. 
“Would you like to try something, darling?” Wanda asked, and you struggled to try and respond. She continued, “We talked about it earlier this week, remember the package we ordered?”
Your eyes lit up in recognition, a feeble nod the only thing you could manage. You remembered the soft red collar and leash that you both had liked, but hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon. 
“Call it an early Christmas gift.” Wanda’s voice was soft, full of caring as she watched your reaction. 
“I want to try it,” You said, your voice as strong as you could make it. Wanda’s eyes lit up, crinkling at the edges as she smiled widely at you. Evidently, she thought that the perfect response was cranking up the vibrations against your clit. 
You shuddered beneath her, hands grasping uselessly at the magical restraints as the pleasure became overwhelming. You were mere seconds away from your orgasm, you could feel the beginning stages of it creeping up on you as your muscles went rigid. 
Wanda pulled away, and your clit protested by pulsing rapidly. She paid you no mind, letting you thrust your hips feebly as she summoned a few more items. They all moved to rest neatly on the bed, and Wanda held up the red collar. 
Her touch was almost reverent, stroking the soft leather and ensuring that it wouldn’t bite into your sensitive skin. Your eyes locked on it, watching as she brought it closer to your neck. Nodding your consent, you felt your heart race wildly as she fastened it securely. 
Two fingers curled around the leather, sticking themselves between the collar and your skin to ensure it wasn’t too tight. Tugging experimentally, Wanda’s eyes snapped to yours when you let out a moan. 
“That felt really good.” You breathed out, pupils blown as Wanda gave it another tug. This one was more forceful, and you felt your clit throb as more of your arousal leaked onto the mattress. 
The smile on Wanda’s face should have scared you, it was dark and wide. Ideas and fantasies swirled behind her green irises, but the only thing you felt was excitement. And extreme arousal, but what’s new?
Metal clinked, and you watched in anticipation as Wanda clipped the leash to the gold loop attached to the front of the collar. She wrapped the leash around her hand, once and then twice. 
“Fuck.” You almost didn’t realize that you had spoken, the word slipping out as Wanda gave the harshest tug yet. 
A scene of Wanda tugging the leash while fucking you from behind flashed behind your eyelids as you took some steadying breaths. You longed to feel the collar pressing against your throat, whenever Wanda would use her hand to choke you, it always made your orgasm much more powerful. It really heightened all of the sensations you felt, and you couldn’t wait to use the collar more often.  
“Would you like to try that, darling?” Wanda’s voice filtered through your thoughts, and you flushed as you remembered her presence in your mind. 
“Yes, please.” You sounded eager, your eyes bright as Wanda chuckled and twisted her fingers once again. 
After some maneuvering, you were on your front. Your hands were still securely attached to the headboard by unrelenting wisps of scarlet magic. Wanda urged you to your knees, the spreader bar making it impossible to close your legs. 
Something pressed against you from behind, and you immediately remembered the strap-on that Wanda had brought over. Either she had already lubed up, or you were soaked, because she slid the entire length of the toy into you in one stroke. 
A moan escaped you, muffled by the pillow you pressed your face into at the feeling of her strap fully inside you. It was everything you’d been waiting for, your walls clinging to the toy as she began snapping her hips. Fucking into you, Wanda experimentally tugged on the leash, and your head rose unwillingly from the pillow. 
“Oh,” She said, her voice raspy as she tugged again. A strangled whimper sounded out, a gush of wetness hitting her thighs as she easily slid in and out of your slick pussy. “I like this collar on you very much.”
“This was a great idea,” You agreed, all your senses heightened as she choked you from behind. 
With white knuckles, Wanda pulled on the leash as hard as she dared, not wanting to go too far during your first time using the collar. Using it as leverage, she angled her hips, thrusting deeper inside you, the toy hitting your g-spot perfectly. 
Your orgasm builds once more, pleasure spreading from your over-used pussy to the rest of your trembling body. Words left your mouth, but you couldn’t quite make out what you were saying. It was most likely broken pleas and moans, a desperate attempt at convincing Wanda to let you cum. 
You knew you wouldn’t be able to cum without her permission, or even without her helping fall over the edge. Sure, you’d tried masturbating, even though it was explicitly against her rules. However, you weren’t able to make yourself cum, not after your body had gotten used to Wanda’s touch. 
“Please, mommy. Please let me cum. I’ve… fuck. I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I? I really want to cum, I can’t take it anymore. Please, no more edging.” Your voice gave out quickly, moans replacing your words as Wanda seemed to fuck you harder. 
“Fuck,” Wanda grunted, tugging the leash again. “You have been good for me, darling. And because you begged so prettily for me, I’ll let you cum.”
Her next words were muttered right in your ear. “You can cum as many times as you want.” She placed a harsh kiss against your neck, most definitely leaving a bruise that would last for days. Then, she kneeled up straight, her hips snapping steadily as the strap forced every drop of pleasure out from your aching pussy. 
“Cum.”
Almost as if your body had been waiting for that command, your orgasm washed over you. It was unrepentant, waves of pleasure racking your body as you all but collapsed. Wanda’s firm hold on your leash kept you from suffocating yourself in the pillows, the sensation of being choked only heightening your orgasm. Everything felt more vivid, Wanda’s fingernails digging into your hip, her strap slamming into your gushing pussy, your nipples dragging along the silky fabric beneath you with each thrust. 
Wanda’s hold on the leash slackened, and you sucked in deep breaths as blood rushed to your head. Your orgasm kept dragging on, the constant stimulation from the strap-on triggering a second one. 
The hum of a vibrator sounded out, and you half whimpered and half moaned. Your clit throbbed, and you wanted to scream. Wanda placed the vibrator against it, the sensitive nub having emerged from its hood a long time ago. 
White stars filled your vision, your limbs turning to jelly as a third, powerful orgasm ripped through you. The waves of pleasure quickly turned painful, Wanda’s hips not slowing for a second as she twisted the knob higher on the vibrator. 
You came again. 
And again. 
Pain and pleasure melded together. The only thing you could sense was Wanda’s presence, everything else fading as she forced your body to cum again. Her hand tugging your leash, her collar wrapped tightly around your neck. Her skin, slapping against yours as she forced the strap deeper. 
Her voice, sounding out. Her words, not registering as you came again. Her hand, twisting your face towards her as your vision started to darken. Her eyebrows, threaded together. 
Her eyes, that lovely shade of green, forever ingrained in your mind. 
And then, nothing.
—-
“Darling, I need you to wake up. Please.” 
A cool hand was stroking your cheek, shaking as it wiped away tears that you hadn’t realized you’d shed. Warm breath hit your lips as Wanda sighed in relief, your eyes fluttering open. 
Everything was blurry, but your lips still turned upwards. Smiling goofily up at Wanda, you attempted to move. Your limbs felt like lead, your muscles sore as you twisted a strand of her auburn hair between your fingers. 
“I was so worried,” Wanda began, but you shushed her. 
“Don’t,” Your voice was hoarse, and you cleared your throat. “I enjoyed every second of that, Wanda. I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
Wanda’s voice wobbled, her eyes concerned as she moved to lay down next to you. You threw your leg over her hip somewhat clumsily, still feeling as though your limbs were deadweight. Tucking your face into the crook of her neck, you inhaled deeply, letting her vanilla scent wash over you. 
“I’m absolutely positive,” You reassured her, already feeling your eyes closing again. “Now let’s just cuddle for a bit, and then you can order us food while I get the shower ready in, um, about an hour.”
And with that, you promptly fell asleep. 
Wanda smiled, stroking your hair as you curled around her. Honestly, how did she get so lucky? She thought about the ring sitting hidden in her office desk drawer, and felt a wave of love overtake her as you pulled her closer in your sleep. 
She just had to wait until after the holidays. Soon, you would be her wife. Wanda couldn’t wait for that day to come. 
Soon.
—-
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Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine 
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ellemj · 5 months
Text
Half-Tongue Rule: 12 Days of Smut #1
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: A little Asgardian liquor and a whole lot of tension leads to a teeny tiny bit of smut between you and a certain jealous super soldier.
Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, teasing, public teasing, jealous!Bucky, slight DUBCON if you consider it so, alcohol consumption, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 9k (I'm very sorry)
A/N: Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for both catching my mistakes in writing and helping with warnings. She's the reason I don't give in to my daily urge to delete my whole blog lmao. Also, I apologize for this being an hour later than planned. It has been a day. This is just a lil baby smut but I think each day of this event will get filthier and filthier as I get closer to my favorite storylines.
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         You hate parties. You hate the amount of alcohol that people seem to need to consume just to enjoy each other’s company. You hate the way you feel obligated to stay for a certain length of time just to appease the host. You especially hate the way parties make it hard to even hear your own thoughts. Or maybe you just hate Tony Stark’s parties, specifically. His parties are classy, yet overly loud and hard to break away from when you’re ready to leave. However, you still accepted the Christmas party invitation that Pepper so kindly emailed you three weeks ago. It would’ve been too difficult to come up with a fake excuse for missing it when half of you live in the same building.
         So, that’s what led you here, taking the elevator up to the top floor of Stark Tower, standing with your back pressed against the cold metal wall as you listen to the chatter of the various SHIELD employees who piled into the elevator with you. The only familiar faces on the ride up are Sharon and Wanda. The three of you arrived together, but you know as soon as the elevator lets you out into the party, they’ll both disappear into the crowd to be social butterflies. Your dress is so thin that the cool temperature of the elevator wall sends a chill down your spine, making you regret having left your winter coat downstairs like everyone else.
         The sound of music playing through the speakers just a little way higher in the elevator shaft reaches your ears and you take a deep breath. You remind yourself that parties are supposed to be fun and that you put all of this effort into looking hot as fuck, you need to find a way to enjoy the night. You tell yourself to be free and have a little fun, not to hide away in a corner refusing to have even one drink, and not to rush out of here before it’s been at least an hour.
         When the elevator slows to a halt and starts filing out to join the lively, festive gathering ahead, your legs refuse to carry you forward. The lower half of your body hasn’t quite gotten the whole be free and have a little fun memo yet. Wanda shoots you a disapproving look paired with a small frown and shakes her head before reaching out and wrapping an arm around your waist. She pulls you along with her and suddenly, you’re immersed in Christmas music and Christmas cheer.
         “Don’t be a buzzkill. Have a few drinks for once and loosen up, you’re can be the life of the party when you’re a little drunk.” Wanda commands, ushering you a few steps further away from the elevator. You’re about to remind her that she’s only ever seen you drunk once, and that it’s been over a year since then, but as soon as her eyes land on Vision across the room, she’s gone. You find yourself standing alone in your little burgundy dress. You take a moment to let your eyes roam over the crowd, noticing how almost everyone is in black or navy. You see a couple of women in forest green dresses, and even one in a dress that’s as white as snow, but no one else is wearing the same color as you. Damn. That’ll make it a little harder to blend in in the corner.
         You let out a soft sigh before pushing your loosely curled hair back over your shoulder and turning to the left to head to the small bar. One drink. You can have one drink and pretend like you’re enjoying this before you make your great escape. Though the expansive room is quite crowded with people, the bar itself isn’t so bad. The bartender is quick to pass you your glass of whiskey neat as he shoots you a kind smile. You’re only one sip in when you notice the bartender’s eyes look past you, over your shoulder, at someone else. You await the inevitable approach of whoever it is that’s behind you as you savor the slight burn of the whiskey trickling down your throat.
         “You showed.” Sam’s voice rings out from behind you. He steps up to the bar and rests his elbows on it, standing a little to your left. You turn to face him and find him grinning from ear to ear. His infectious smile has always made you feel a little more at ease, and so you find yourself relaxing the tiniest bit in his presence. You lift the glass to your lips and take a second sip. Sam studies you while he waits for a beer, taking in your deep burgundy dress and your quiet demeanor. He knows parties aren’t your thing, but he also knows you can be more fun than just about anyone he’s ever met when you have a little bit of alcohol coursing through your veins. It’s not that you need to drink to be a fun person, but you keep yourself so reined in, so on task most of the time, that you forget to live. When you drink, you let yourself relax a little and your guard goes down just enough for you to have a good time without overthinking it. “Whiskey neat?” Sam asks, eyeing your drink of choice. You nod your head and drag your fingertip around the rim of your glass, glancing down at the amber-colored liquid.
         “I wanted to look mysterious and brooding. Holding a glass of whiskey makes a girl look mysterious and brooding, right?” You ask jokingly, giving Sam a small smile. He chuckles and stands up straight as the bartender presses a bottle of beer into his hand. He turns to fully face you now but his gaze continues to span across the room until it lands on a certain super soldier. Bucky stands tall beside one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, dressed in a well-fitted pair of black dress pants with an even better-fitted black button up adorning his torso. You take in the unusual sight of his vibranium arm on display. You’ve never seen him with his sleeves rolled up like this before. He looks a bit like a successful CEO of some company that earns him a few million dollars a year, especially with those gold accents in the crevices of his arm. You can’t seem to tear your gaze away from the man who you’ve been strategically avoiding at all costs.
         “If you want to look mysterious and brooding, you should talk to the cyborg over there. He has that look down pat.” Sam says with a laugh. He won’t say it to either of you out loud, but Sam thinks you and Bucky are so similar that you could’ve been cut from the same cloth. He knows people say that opposites attract, but he has to wonder if that’s always the case. To anyone else, it would seem like you and Bucky hate each other, even though you work together so seamlessly in the field. Sam has witnessed an odd sort of vibe between the two of you multiple times before, something that walks a very thin line between hatred and sexual tension. Neither of you have ever given Sam enough solid evidence that it’s anything besides a mutual dislike, but he can tell. He may not know just how right he is about the two of you, but he knows something is there.
As if Bucky could feel your eyes on him, he turns his head ever-so-slightly and meets your gaze. His blue eyes are always so piercing, seeing right through you and making you feel on edge for absolutely no reason. The moment he looked at you was the moment you should’ve put your drink down and switched to water for the rest of the evening. But when Thor arrived a few moments later, bearing the gift of Asgardian liquor, you decided to drink your demons away for one night.
---
         “What’s going on over there?” Sam’s question catches the attention of the small crowd of Avengers that are gathered around one end of the bar, as he points across the bar where you and Thor seem to be engaged in a more-than-friendly conversation. Sharon smiles deviously and Bucky’s jaw clenches, already hating where this is going.
         “Thor’s trying to close the deal with her. He gave her a little Asgardian liquor, and I think it’s going to pay off for him.” She explains, lifting her colorful drink to her lips and taking a long sip. Bucky watches you closely for a moment, picking up on the fact that you’re definitely past tipsy. Thor is seated on a barstool and you stand in front of him, laughing at something he’s just said as he smiles down at you. Bucky’s jaw clenches again when he sees you playfully rest a hand on Thor’s knee. Bucky would like to think that your hand is there for balance, but he knows that’s not what this is. Not at all. He scoffs and finishes off his own glass of whiskey.
         “It’s not going to pay off for him.” Bucky mumbles, trying to ignore the unfamiliar feeling that’s rising up in his chest. Jealousy. You wouldn’t go for a guy who’s shamelessly flirting with you after liquoring you up, just to get you into bed. You thrive off of banter, off of arguing with someone to the point of wanting to shut them up with your body. Bucky isn’t positive, but he’s fairly sure that he knows this about you. He picks up on the way you come alive when the two of you end up in a heated argument after a mission goes awry, he picks up on the way your frustration in the field brings about a different kind of tension between the two of you on the trips back to the compound. You aren’t the type to fall head over heels for a few compliments and a pretty face, even if the guy is a god. Thor would be too easy for you. And if Bucky has learned anything about you after butting heads with you for the past two months, it’s that you like a challenge more than anything.
         “It looks like it is.” Sam claims, pointing a finger in your direction now. Bucky looks again and sees Thor leaning in close to you, whispering something in your ear that makes your cheeks a little more pink. He catches himself squeezing his whiskey glass so hard that it might’ve shattered if he hadn’t released it onto the bar. Thor rises from the barstool, towering over you by at least a foot, shoots you a suggestive look, and then walks past you. Everyone watches as he heads straight for the elevator, making a quick exit from the party, everyone except Bucky. He’s focused on you as you turn your whole body to see Thor walk away. It’s clear that he’s daring you to follow him out, to run off somewhere for a late-night rendezvous, anyone can see that. Sam and Sharon have seemingly lost interest in the situation at hand and they quickly dive into their own conversation. Bucky continues watching you closely, his eyes narrowed and zoned in on you, as you finish off your drink and set your glass down on the bar. When you finally look back up, you look straight at him. As soon as your eyes meet his, he notices the way every muscle in your body tenses. Fuck it.
         His walk is confident, nearly cocky, and you can tell he’s seething. You watch him so carefully as he makes his way through the crowded room, noticing how everyone parts as soon as they see him coming. He’s clearly sporting a bit of a mood and no one here would dare be on the receiving end of that. As Bucky approaches you, his eyes bore into yours, with no trace of a smile or kind greeting to be found behind his blue eyes. You swallow hard, getting ready for one of his signature scoffs or briefly worded insults.
         “Bucky—” You start, ready to diffuse whatever argument your sometimes-field partner is about to begin with you. He doesn’t even slow down as he nearly barrels into you, his vibranium hand wrapping around your wrist, forcing you away from the bar. He turns you around roughly and pushes you in front of him, straight through a corner door that he’s throwing open with his right hand. Suddenly, you’re immersed in even dimmer lights as he closes the door behind him, effectively shutting the two of you off from the rest of the party. His grip on your wrist loosens and you can smell the soft tinge of the same whiskey you’ve been drinking tonight on his lips. The music is muffled in here and it helps you get ahold of your thoughts before you turn to face the little shit that dragged you in here against your will. When you turn around, Bucky stands still in front of the door, his vibranium hand uncharacteristically unobscured by any sort of glove. It gleams in the low light and distracts you for a brief second, before you look up at him.
         “What the hell, Bucky?” Your voice is raspy from the burn of the whiskey and Asgardian liquor. It feels a bit like you swallowed rocks, but the buzz it all gave you is worth it. As annoyed as you should be with Bucky right now for manhandling you like he’s anything but your occasional partner in the field, you can’t help but think about how fucking hot he looks tonight. His dark pants show off just how muscular his legs are, specifically his thighs. They also show off just how well-endowed he is in a different department, but you try hard not to think about that. Bucky catches you looking him up and down, unfortunately, as you’re not the slyest when you’ve been drinking liquor that works against even a super soldier’s metabolism.
         “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” His tone is patronizing, but his words send an all-too-familiar heat rushing between your legs. You instinctively listen to him, shifting your eyes up to meet his. His command felt almost lustful to you but his gaze is harsh. Maybe you just felt like it was lustful because you wanted it to be. You do tend to get a little horny when you’ve been drinking, and with the Asgardian buzz, everything starts to seem a little porny. You swallow, closing your mouth and waiting for the man to say anything else. He takes his time choosing his words, as he lets his eyes rake over your body just like your eyes raked over his a moment ago. He didn’t get a good enough look at your dress when you were all the way across the bar, but now he’s decided that he fucking hates it.
         “Bucky?” You prompt, tilting your head to the side, trying to get him to look in your eyes again. When he finally does, his gaze remains cold and harsh.
         “You showed up at a party just to get drunk and go home with Thor?” He questions, his tone both accusing and condescending. You scoff, taking a step backward and crossing your arms over your chest. This small action lifts your breasts and you notice Bucky’s eyes briefly lower to steal a glance. God. He wishes he’d found a darker closet to force you into.
         “Fuck you for that.” You spit back at him, narrowing your eyes and shooting daggers in his direction. He laughs lowly and watches as you wobble a bit on your heels, the buzz from the liquor developing into more of a state of drunkenness as your body struggles to metabolize it.
         “You would fuck me. You’d fuck anyone after drinking what he gave you.” Bucky tosses out the insult with ease, a cocky smirk painted on his face. You run your hands through your hair, wondering when the room started tilting to one side.
         “I wouldn’t fuck you, but anyone else maybe. What are we doing in here, James?” You ask, looking around the small, empty supply closet that you seem to be in. You take one step back and lean against the wall behind you for a little support. Bucky chuckles at the sight of you, making such an effort to fight off his insults and maintain your balance at the same time. He’s never really been around you when you’ve been drinking, and he finds it unbelievably amusing.
         “Are you lying to yourself or just to me?” His voice is lower now, a little quieter and a lot more charged with something. You want to say it’s charged with lust, but again, the porny haze might just be from your own point of view. However, Bucky is feeling that porny haze in the air as well. Hell, Bucky’s the one creating it. You push his question to the back of your mind, focusing on what you want to know. If he would just hurry up and tell you why he forced you into a damn supply closet, you could walk out of here and head downstairs to find Thor and start having some real fun.
         “Let’s try this one last time, what are we doing in here?” You repeat, pushing yourself away from the wall and stepping closer to him? You’re only a foot apart from each other now, and you can see him much better from this distance in the low lighting.
         “I’m keeping you from making a stupid decision.”
         “No, you’re kind of cockblocking, if you even know what that is.” You retort, rolling your eyes and turning to the left as you reach for the door handle. Bucky quickly reaches out with his flesh hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and forcing your arm away from the door. He doesn’t let go of your wrist this time.
         “You’re not sleeping with him.” He says firmly. You look down at where he’s gripping your wrist before looking back up at him, narrowing your eyes once more.
         “Why the hell do you think you get a vote?”
         “I’m not voting, I’m vetoing it. You’re drunk.”
         “I don’t need you to protect me, Barnes. Contrary to popular belief, I can take care of my damn self.” You snatch your hand away from him, thinking he’ll release his grip when you do, but he only tightens it and uses the leverage to pull you against him. Your chest crashes against his and you can feel his breath fan across your face. He smells like whiskey and light cologne, and his body heat emanates through his thin button-up shirt. A few less-than-holy thoughts speed through your mind. For a second, you worry he might be able to read your partially drunken thoughts with his intense stare. Bucky’s jaw clenches and he fights the urge to shove you against the wall and fuck you right here.
         “Then go home and take care of yourself instead of letting that jackass do it for you.”
         Did Bucky really just tell you to go home and get yourself off? You’re ninety-percent sure that that’s what he just alluded to. Okay, eighty-five percent sure since you’re not quite all there due to the obscene amount of alcohol you’ve consumed over the past hour. You feel a wave of heat spreading through your entire body, lighting your skin on fire. The point where Bucky’s hand is clasped around your wrist is especially on fire. You inhale a shaky breath, calming yourself down and trying to command your body to cooperate with you and cool down. Bucky smirks as he watches your attempt to gather yourself.
         “I got all dressed up and drunk for sex, Barnes. I’m not letting my effort go to waste.” Bucky’s eyes are saying so many things at once, but you can’t figure out a damn word of it in your current state. All you can think about is him pressing you up against the wall right now. Maybe he’d be a little pliant since he’s also downed a good amount of whiskey tonight, and since he clearly suddenly thinks that he has a say in your sex life. You feel your drunken confidence, your alter ego, coming out to play. You smile now, pressing your lips together and softening your gaze as you drink in the sight of his steely gaze and unreadable expression. “If I can’t have sex with Thor, are you going to tell me who I can have sex with tonight?” Your words take him by surprise and he recoils, dropping your wrist and stepping back. You feel powerful now, making him step away with only your words.
                  “You really should just go home, sleep it off.” He says, trying once again to steer you in a safe direction. It’s not so much that he’s trying to steer you in a safe direction, but more that he’s trying to keep himself from having a reason to pick a fight with Thor. He doesn’t want his hands on you. He’s not letting it happen.
         “I am so fucking tired of you always trying to protect me. What happened to the introverted ass who lived across the hall and skulked around the tower? He was way more bearable.”
         “You like me way more now.” He states, narrowing his eyes at you. You shake your head quickly.
         “You’re still an ass, but now you’re all confident and you know you’re hot and it’s unbearable.” You feel the regret as soon as the words leave your lips. You didn’t mean to say the part about him being hot. 
“You think I’m hot?” He asks. He’s intrigued now, that cocky smirk once again gracing his face. You shrug your shoulders, reaching for the door again. He lets you grab the handle this time but he places a strong, firm hand against the door, at the height of your face, stopping you from opening it. He steps in close, his chest nearly brushing against your right arm and side as he leans down to your ear. “Answer the question.” A chill races down your spine, forcing you to close your eyes and draw in a deep, calming breath. Why is he being so damn authoritative all of a sudden?
         “I’m drunk.”
         “Which just means that you have no filter. So, answer the question.” He keeps his hand firmly planted against the door and you know he won’t let you out of here until he gets his answer.
         “Yes.” You answer as nonchalantly as possible, turning your head to him. You’re a mere inch apart now, his lips hovering so teasingly in front of yours and his eyes staring into your soul.
         “You’re not leaving with him.” He states. His tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip and narrowly missing yours. You can’t stop yourself from looking at his lips, especially his bottom lip that’s now moistened right in front of you.
         “You can’t tell me what to do.” You slur your words, pushing your hands against his chest and forcing him back a couple of small steps. You march yourself out of the closet now, leaving him behind, but your mind still seems to be stuck on the image of his lips. You should’ve just kissed him. Who could have blamed you if you did kiss him? Asgardian liquor gives everything such a sexual energy for some reason.
         Bucky can’t stop himself from keeping a watchful eye on you for the rest of the party. After you got away from him, you headed off to dance and drink even more with Sharon. As long as you don’t sneak off to wherever Thor went, he really doesn’t give a shit what you do. Or maybe he does. He isn’t quite sure why he suddenly gives a shit. Why were you so set on having sex with someone tonight? And why did it seem like you didn’t even care who it was going to be? That doesn’t seem like you at all, having a meaningless one-night stand with whoever happens to be up for one.
         Bucky’s mind keeps mulling over the fact that you practically called him hot. Well, you said yes when he asked if you thought he was hot.  Maybe you’re more bold and honest when you’re drunk. Or maybe you’re just a liar when you’re drunk. Either way, Bucky can’t get it out of his head.
         “Yo, cyborg, you in there?” Sam waves his arm in the air, drawing Bucky’s attention out of his thoughts and back to the present conversation.
         “What?”
         “Which one of us is going to offer the girls a ride home? They’re both way too drunk to drive.” Sam asks. Bucky scoffs. Like you’ll accept a ride from either one of them with how independent you try to be and how especially stubborn you’re already being tonight. Sam distracted Bucky just for a moment, so he didn’t notice you and Sharon heading over to join the group in the sitting area of the lavish room.
         As they round the side of the couch, Sharon takes the only space on the couch between Sam and Clint, leaving you to stand beside the couch, steadying yourself on the arm of it.
         “We were just talking about you two.” Sam says to you both with a grin, glancing at Sharon first and then up at you. Bucky notices you trying a little too hard to remain in a steady and upright position, but he knows if he stands up and offers you his chair, you’ll absolutely refuse to take it.
         “Are you going back to the tower tonight, Y/n?” Clint wonders aloud, focusing his eyes on you. Bucky can tell that Clint also notices your unusual difficulty with balance, but he doesn’t seem very concerned. Clint’s seen her drunk before, so he’s actually used to this side of you. You laugh and shake your head, your curls softer and looser than when Bucky first saw you a little while ago.
         “No way, I’m staying with Sharon tonight.” You answer. You looks down at her feet for a brief second and Bucky can tell it’s because your heels are hurting your feet, but you’re not the kind of girl to take your shoes off and walk around barefoot in public.
         “Come on, you can’t both be on your own this drunk.” Clint argues, looking to Bucky and Sam for support. Sam catches his drift and takes on a slightly more serious expression before looking up at you. You shake your head once again, rolling your eyes before turning your head and narrowing them at Bucky.
         “I wouldn’t even be going home with Sharon if Sergeant Barnes over here hadn’t made me miss my chance with someone.” You say coldly, your eyes once again shooting daggers at Bucky. Sam and Clint turn their attention to Bucky now, and Sharon lets out a hearty laugh.
         “Yeah, I heard you vetoed her potential one-night stand.” Sharon’s voice is full of amusement.
         “I did you a favor.” Bucky scoffs, returning your hard stare with one of his own. You saunter over to him now, maintaining your balance well enough to seat your pretty little ass on the arm of the chair he’s in. You cross your legs at the knee, causing your already short dress to ride even further up your thighs. Bucky’s vibranium hand that rests on the arm of the chair is only inches behind your ass. He forces himself to look past you, at Sam, who is clearly very entertained by this whole situation.
         “Sam, is cockblocking ever a favor?” You ask, seeking validation for your little tantrum over Bucky stopping you from leaving with Thor. Sam shakes his head, looking up at you with a joking frown.
         “Never. Friends don’t stop friends from getting theirs.” Sam answers, shooting Bucky another look. He’s implying to Bucky that you and him must not simply be friends if he stopped you from sleeping with Thor tonight. You clap your hands together once before pushing yourself off of his chair and taking two steps toward the couch, you turn yourself effortlessly and take a seat on Sam’s right knee, which doesn’t even seem to faze him. Bucky watches as Sam places a hand on your back to keep you steadied there. His jaw clenches and his vibranium hand coils into a fist.
         “See, Bucky, you’ll have to make it up to me.” Your tone can only be described as flirty and suggestive, but only Sam and Bucky seem to pick up on it. Sam raises an eyebrow at the seething super soldier, awaiting his response. He cocks his head to the side, thinking of a way to play this smart.
         “Next time Fury pits us against each other in training…” Bucky starts, leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees before continuing. “I’ll let you win.”
         “No thanks, I kicked your ass last time. I don’t need you to let me win.” You narrow your eyes at him once again, before turning to Sam, Sharon, and Clint. “Sam remembers that, right Sam?” Sam nods vigorously, a smile creeping across his face as the memory plays through his head.
         “I would’ve loved to have seen it.” Sharon pipes up, leaning against Sam’s shoulder now. Damn, he’s looking like he’s such a ladies’ man tonight. Bucky considers taking a picture for him so the memory lasts. Wanda and Vision join the group, Wanda perching herself on the armrest next to Clint’s side of the couch and Vision standing beside her, keeping a hand on her back. “Oh, I have the best idea.” Sharon suddenly sounds like a child, and she’s clearly about to say something ridiculously stupid. “We should play truth or dare.”
---
                  “If we’re doing this, we’re doing this the fair way.” Sam asserts. Clint quickly took his leave before the game was agreed upon, claiming that it was already way past his bedtime and he had to check in with his wife and kids over the phone before they all fall asleep. Wanda and Vision filled his vacant spot on the couch.
You feel the effects of the alcohol that you consumed earlier slowly making its way through your system and losing its potency as it’s metabolized. You still feel a good bit of drunkenness from the Asgardian liquor, and you really wonder how long that will take to clear your system. “We alternate between truth and dare, spinning the bottle to pick who takes the turn.” Sam places an empty beer bottle on the coffee table before us all, his hand briefly leaving your back when he leans forward to do so. As he rests back against the couch again, his hand finds its way to your middle back again. Sitting on his knee like this is starting to make it feel like your ass is falling asleep, and if your ass is falling asleep then your legs won’t be far behind.
         “Truth.” Sharon calls out for the first turn, reaching out to spin the bottle and get the game going. You stand up from Sam’s knee and switch to sitting on the floor on your knees. Your dress is sitting dangerously high on your thighs now. You glance around the circle at everyone. Sam, Sharon, Wanda, Vision, and Torres, who joined when Clint left, all keep their eyes trained on the spinning bottle. Bucky, however, is looking right at you. He probably wishes you would’ve gone home and taken care of yourself like he told you to earlier. What a jackass. The bottle slows to a stop, the lip of it pointing at Wanda. “Wanda!” Sharon yells out, excited by her first victim. “Does Vision have a dick?” The question sends the group into an uproar, but Wanda only laughs.
         “Yes.” She answers, keeping it short and simple.
         “Are follow-up questions allowed?” Sharon quickly asks, turning to look at Sam.
         “Only if the bottle lands on that person again and it’s a turn for truth.” He clarifies. Sharon scoffs, rolling her eyes.
         “That’s no fun at all.” She complains. You watch as Wanda leans into Vision’s ear and whispers something, something that makes him smile and nuzzle against her cheek ever so slightly. God, they’re sickeningly adorable. Wanda breaks away from him for a moment to spin the bottle, calling out dare as it begins to spin. Of course, it lands on you.
         “Wanda, we’re friends.” You remind her. You doubt she would make you do anything too crazy, knowing her, but if she’s been drinking and isn’t her normal self tonight, she might be a little adventurous. Mischief gleams behind her eyes and you know you’re in trouble. This game is starting to feel a bit sobering.
         “I dare you to sit on Bucky’s lap for the rest of the game.”
         “Wanda!” You yell out, an annoyed tone to your voice and a glare painted across your face. “That has to be against the rules. What if he doesn’t want to participate?” You try to talk your way out of it, looking to Sam now since he seems to be in charge of the rules here. He thinks for a second, looking at you and then up at Bucky. Bucky’s expression is stoic, as unreadable as ever as he stares back at Sam.
         “I’ll allow it.” Sam decides, smirking at Bucky. You groan, pushing yourself up from the floor but refusing to make eye contact with Bucky. You move a few steps toward him and sit on his knee, just like you sat on Sam’s earlier.
         “Oh, no. That’s not his lap.” Wanda points out, waving her hand at you, gesturing for you to move in closer to his body.
         “Fuck you, Wanda.” You say evenly, before fully sitting on Bucky’s lap as he straightens up in the chair a bit. You’re basically sitting right on his crotch, and slightly to his left so his vibranium arm is sitting on the armrest behind your back. You feel him take a deep breath and his exhale fans across your right arm. You avoid turning to look at him. The more you think about it, you’re still really annoyed that he felt like he could tell you not to sleep with someone tonight. You’re even more annoyed with yourself for listening. You should have just kept your original plan and left with Thor. You offer Wanda one last glare, making her laugh and lean closer into Vision. She mouths the words get over it before drawing a heart in the air with her fingers, her way of apologizing to you and saying it isn’t that serious. You know it’s not that serious but you also know what she’s doing. She thinks if you’d just hook up with him once, Bucky and you would get rid of whatever tension is between you and you could be regular partners in the field, as casual and unproblematic as when you work with Clint or Sam. But this isn’t some movie where the two main characters fuck their feelings away and stay friends in the end, hell, there aren’t even any feelings to fuck away here. You’re still barely even friends. You just work together.
         You lean forward in Bucky’s lap, away from his body, and spin the bottle, calling out truth before leaning back again. You lean a little too far back, your balance still not perfect due to the alcohol coursing through your veins. The exposed skin of your back in your low-cut dress brushes against his left chest and vibranium arm and his cold metal hand quickly slips behind you, resting on the skin of your back and steadying you. He clearly doesn’t want you sitting any closer than you have to for this dare. Once you’re steady, you expect him to put his hand back on the armrest of the chair, but he doesn’t. He keeps it firmly planted on your back, his vibranium fingers reflecting your body heat and warming up ever-so-slightly. You find the touch comforting and you feel yourself relaxing a little bit. This definitely beats sitting on the floor.
         “Sharon!” Sam hollers, tapping her knee that’s closest to him on the couch and then clapping his hands excitedly. “This is going to be good. What do you want to know about her, Y/n?” The bottle points straight at her, and she seems more than ready for whatever you might ask. You think for a moment, with everyone’s attention focused on you, expecting you to come up with something good.
         “Was Steve a good kisser?” Bucky lets out a quiet, low chuckle at your question. You can tell he’s trying to seem like he’s not overly enjoying this game, but you know he’s getting at least a little kick out of it. His hand is still on your back and you don’t think he plans to move it anytime soon. You focus on it a little too much, noticing the way his pinky finger rests lightly just an inch above your ass.
         “Yeah, he knew what he was doing, that’s for sure. You never would’ve known he hadn’t had any real practice in the last few decades.” She admits. She’s not even trying to hide her smile as the memory of Steve comes to the forefront of her mind. “You know how sometimes guys either do too much with their tongue, or not enough?” You and Wanda both nod, while the four men in the group look on at you, obviously intrigued by the topic. “He did exactly enough.”
         “Wow, who taught him the half-tongue rule?” Wanda questions jokingly.
         “The half-tongue rule?” Torres sounds genuinely curious. He can be so adorable sometimes, so clueless for someone so unbelievably smart.
         “For a good makeout session, you should never put more than half of your tongue in the other person’s mouth.” Sharon explains. Torres nods as she explains, as if he’s absorbing the information and storing it for later use. “Okay, this one is going to be good.” Sharon announces, her eyes darting around the group for her next victim as she sends the bottle into a rotation. You get distracted for a moment when Bucky’s vibranium thumb rubs a small circle against your lower back, so softly that you question if it’s even happening.
         “White Wolf…” Sharon tsks. A look that you can only describe as evil takes over her features and she grins as she stares Bucky down. You didn’t notice that the bottle landed on him at first. He continues rubbing those small circles with his thumb and you’re really wondering what the hell he’s doing, but you don’t want to draw attention to it. “I dare you to demonstrate the half-tongue rule with your partner there.” Sharon points right at me. You swallow hard and shake your head, but you can feel Bucky’s lack of any reaction behind you. He doesn’t so much as take a deep breath or shift in his seat at the threat of the dare.
         “Wait, what are the stakes if they don’t?” Vision asks, looking around the group for an answer.
         “You have to answer three truths in a row, hard ones.” Sharon decides, looking to Sam for approval and he nods quickly. You see him shoot Bucky a look, you can’t tell what it is but it’s insinuating something. He knows Bucky would refuse to answer three hard questions about himself, so it’s way less likely that he’ll refuse a dare.
         “And what if the person the dare involves refuses to participate?” Wanda asks, smiling at you with fake sweetness. You see what she’s doing and you’re mentally kicking her for it. She wants to know what punishment you’ll face if you refuse to let Bucky complete this dare with you.
         “Same thing, I guess.” Sam answers quickly. You don’t have a problem with answering truths, but with the direction Sharon and Wanda have been taking this game, it might be a dangerous thing to get yourself into. Who knows what they would ask at this point?
         “So? Are you guys going to demonstrate the half-tongue rule or can we ask you both three questions?” Sharon prompts, her eyes flitting between you both. You finally turn and look at Bucky, but as your ass moves against his lap slightly, he presses his vibranium hand flat against your lower back, attempting to still you. He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours to see what your answer will be.
         “Come on, we’ve all seen you kiss on undercover ops before, it’s just like that.” Wanda chimes in, trying to get the group what they want. You tune her out, waiting for Bucky to speak up and say he won’t do it, that this is childish and silly and you’re all adults. You know you’re in trouble when he cocks his head to the right and his lips curl into that smirk that you’ve grown so used to seeing on him.
         “Why aren’t you backing down from this?” You ask quietly so only he can hear you. Everyone is staring at you, anticipating either a kiss or a white flag of surrender.
         “Why aren’t you?” He licks his bottom lip and for the second time tonight, you think about how much you want that lip pressed between your own. Fuck Thor for giving you that drink.
         You honestly couldn’t say who started it. You couldn’t say how long it lasted. But when you leaned into him and his left hand found it’s place on your hip while his right snaked up to your hair and pulled your face against his, you were lost in the moment. His lips moved against yours like it was a dance, something spontaneous and straight out of a movie, your heads tilting in opposite directions to give each other exactly enough leverage and access. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, waiting for you to part your lips and grant access. You hesitated, just for a second, but he noticed it and tugged on your hair, making you open your mouth just slightly, just enough for him to slip his tongue in and caress your own. Fuck, he tasted so good, like whiskey and lust and everything you wore this dress for tonight. Your entire body feels like it’s sparking with electricity everywhere that he’s touching you, where your ass is against his lap, where his hand is on your hip, where his hand is tangled in your hair. You sit now, still in the position you just kissed in, but with only your foreheads pressed together, your mouths inhaling and exhaling within an inch each other. He's probably breathing heavy from the effort and lack of air but you’re breathing heavy from the fucking horny tailspin he’s just sent your body into. It’s taking everything in you not to ask him for more.
         “Holy shit, that was porn.” Torres says, sounding both impressed and surprised.
         “How do two people who barely get along kiss each other like that?” Sam demands to know, and you can feel his stare boring into the back of your head.
         “You remember what we all do for a living, right Sam?” You ask, pulling away from Bucky’s embrace and turning back around to face the rest of the group. You get more comfortable now, leaning against Bucky as he stretches his arms out on both of the armrests and sinks into the chair a bit. You’re both more at ease now, as if the kiss melted away some of the tension. The group raves over the kiss, and what they think was chemistry, rather than simply two experienced operatives who happen to be good kissers being forced into a situation together. Bucky, ready for the moment to be over with, grabs your left hip with his vibranium hand to hold you steady as he leans forward and spins the bottle. The shift in position reveals something, or more makes you feel something. His hard cock pressing against your right thigh. You turn your head to look down at him as he’s leaning back in the chair again and he makes eye contact with you, his smirk from earlier gone and his expression once again one of indifference. God, he’s really fucking good at acting like nothing fazes him.
         “Sam, tell us about your last date.” Bucky says, his eyes still locked on yours. He must’ve seen the bottle spin to a stop in his peripheral vision. As Sam reluctantly begins to tell his tale, capturing everyone’s attention but yours and Bucky’s, you turn to the group once more and lean against Bucky again.
         “Something in your pocket?” You question jokingly under your breath, still feeling his boner present underneath you.
         “Stop talking.” He responds just as quietly, his tone sending a chill through your body. Why is it so fucking hot when he talks to you like that? It should infuriate you, the way he warns you and acts so demanding and in charge. Instead, all you can think about is him talking to you like that in bed. You swear, after tonight, you’ll never touch Asgardian liquor again.
         The game continued on for another half an hour before the party began dwindling down until only about twenty or so guests were left. You still sit comfortably on Bucky’s lap, his dick as hard as it was when you kissed earlier, and yourself no less inebriated than you were then.
         You shift on his lap, a little worried that you might be putting his left leg to sleep. Suddenly, you feel his hands on both of your hips, gripping you tightly and stilling you instantly. The room is still fairly dark and noisy with the music and drunken conversations that are being held all around, so you doubt anyone will notice his sudden shift in position.
         “Don’t move.” He groans lowly in your ear, leaning forward so his chest presses firmly against your back. You stiffen against him, your eyes closing for a second as his voice and touch once again send your senses into overdrive. The game ended five minutes ago, so you should really get off of his lap now. Your phone, which currently sits on the coffee table in front of you vibrates and as Bucky sits back in the chair again, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You know he heard your phone vibrate, so hopefully he doesn’t mind you leaning forward to grab it.
Sharon: Are you staying with me tonight or going back to the tower?
         “You’re staying in the tower.” Bucky says, clearly reading the message over your shoulder. You push yourself out of his lap now, turning around to face him as he adjusts his suit pants and sits up a little straighter to hide the situation going on in his pants.
         “That’s the second time tonight that you’ve tried to make decisions for me.” You point out, staring down at him. Really, who does he think he is? He’s always seemed overly confident to you, but trying to tell you who you can’t sleep with and now where you’re spending your night? He’s crossing lines left and right. You watch him carefully from a short distance as his gaze follows Sam and Sharon, who are saying goodbye to a few friends near the elevator. Sam offered to drive Sharon home, since she definitely can’t be trusted to get herself there safely.
         “You listened to me the first time.” Bucky says confidently, shifting his gaze back to you now, but keeping a serious expression on his face rather than the playful, cocky one that you know so well on him.
         “Did I? Because I remember you telling me to go home and take care of myself, and I haven’t done that.” You glance down at your phone to text Sharon back while you wait for whatever smart ass reply Bucky is going to spew out next. You’re just about to text her and say that you’d love to have a sleepover when you hear Bucky’s low, sure-of-himself laugh. You look at him once more, your thumbs hovering over your phone screen. The way he looks in that chair, with that fucking smirk slowly taking over his features, makes you rethink what you were about to say to Sharon.
         “Yet.”
---
         Everything smells like him. And why wouldn’t it? You’re in his room, lying on his bed, with him standing just a few feet from the foot of the bed, his eyes roaming over every inch of your body. You still have your dress on but you feel naked in front of him like this.
         “Are you getting shy on me now?” Bucky taunts, mischief gleaming behind his eyes as he takes in your timid expression and flushed cheeks. Sam chose to drive Sharon all the way back to her apartment across town, while Bucky quickly stepped up to give you a ride back to the tower. Somehow, along the way, the truth or dare game continued until you ended up accepting a dare to do exactly what Bucky said, to go home and take care of yourself. However, the dare came with a new stipulation: you had to take care of yourself while he watched.
         “Yeah, I’m shy.” You respond sarcastically, pushing yourself off of his bed and trekking across the room to stand immediately in front of him. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he hopes the stance hides the racing of his heart from you. The stance most definitely doesn’t hide the raging boner straining against the front of his dress pants though. There probably isn’t a pair of pants in the world that could hide something so prominent. You stand close to Bucky, breathing in his intoxicating scent for a moment before closing your eyes and letting a serene smile cross your lips.
         Bucky stands frozen when you begin slipping the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The muscle along the side of his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth together when you reach back and easily unzip your dress. And when you finally let the small piece of burgundy fabric fall the the floor? Hell, he’s done for.
         You open your eyes once you’re fully exposed to him, peering up at him with the most innocent look you can muster.
         “Fuck this.” Bucky grumbles, losing every ounce of self-control he was harnessing as his hands grasp the sides of your face and he kisses you with so much desperation that you feel something awaken inside you. He uses the same move from earlier, tugging on the hair at the nape of your neck to get you to part your lips enough for him to taste your mouth. Fuck, you taste like his favorite whiskey. Your body moves on auto-pilot as Bucky walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. With a less-than-gentle shove, Bucky sends you falling onto his bed. His hungry eyes travel all over your skin, over the perfect peaks of your breasts, the smooth skin along your abdomen that leads him straight down to what he needs most right now. Your cunt.
         The way he’s looking at you can only be described in one way: animalistic. You’re sure he’s going to be back on top of you within seconds, but no, this fucking man sinks to his knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. He effortlessly lifts your legs over his shoulders, and then leans into you, kissing your clit so softly that you whimper.  With all of the tension between the two of you tonight, you wouldn’t have expected him to be so gentle.
         “You taste so fucking good.” Bucky groans against your folds, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all the way down until he reaches your entrance. That’s when he stops being so gentle. That’s when he steals a glance at you, taking in the way your chest heaves with arousal and the way your hands are already gripping his bedsheets. That’s when he can’t stop himself from plunging two thick fingers into you and curling them, letting his fingertips drag against the walls of your pussy.
         “Bucky!” You cry out, your back arching off the bed and thighs shaking over his shoulders.
         “You could’ve taken care of yourself.” He reminds you, setting a relentless pace with his hand. He fucks those two fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Every move he makes ignites your nerve endings more and more, until your nervous system is nearing a damn firework show. “You could’ve laid here and gotten yourself off for me.”
         The moans and curses falling from your lips are nothing short of sinful, and every sound sends another rush of blood straight to Bucky’s already-hard cock.
         “You’re so fucking stubborn. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to end up in my bed tonight.” His voice is dripping with lust and you can almost hear the smirk that’s surely painted across his face as you come undone at his hands.
         “Bucky…” You can’t say a damn thing except for his name. Even as he finger fucks you straight through your orgasm, and starts slowing down his movements, you can’t form a single word in your mind.
         “Look at you.” Bucky coos, sliding his fingers out of your pussy one last time. You’re lying there so still with your eyes still scrunched closed. You completely miss the way Bucky closes his own eyes as his sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. He knows he should’ve held you to the dare and made you get yourself off. He never should’ve tasted you. He never should’ve felt how tight and wet your pussy is for him.
Now that he knows how sweet you taste, how nicely your pussy would fit around his cock, how fucking perfect you sound when you’re cumming for him, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to let you leave his room. 
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coeurify · 5 months
Note
repost the period vampire ellie fic!
middle of the night,, vamp!ellie
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a/n: this is a repost from early this year so excuse any change in writing style!
warnings: vampire!ellie. period sex. oral!r receiving fingering!r receiving. sort of a dreamy, less modern vibe. if u aren’t into it.. just don’t read it.
˚✦ .  .    ˚ .  . ✦ ˚  . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
Some times--Most times, you only saw her at night. When darkness enveloped the small town you called home, when the stars rocked the sleepy eyed humans to sleep and the moon hummed the lullaby that quieted the crickets outside, she came.
Only then did you ever hear the distinct creaking of the splitting wood on your window panes being pressed up. Only then did the white of your sheer curtains move with more than the wind, the grip of the air nothing compared to the long hand that often wrapped around the fabric and pushed it open. When the moon was the only light filtering into your room, you saw the green of her eyes.
Tonight was no different, despite one little issue. Often, the woman who visited you under the cover of midnight would arrive to your eyes closed in sleep. She would press a hand to your warm cheek before waking you, greeted by your sleepy excitement each time.
This time, you had not been able to sleep. A heat had taken over your body, tight in your stomach with a pain you would compare to that of claws gnawing at your insides. Sweat beaded between your brows with every swift turn under your uncomfortable sheets, lip tugged between your frustrated teeth to stop any whines of discomfort. That had been what your favorite visitor heard as her shaking palms found the wood of your window. Your pained grunts floated through her buzzing ears as she quietly made her way into your room, auburn hair messy behind her ears as her figure became visible, head tilted as she looked across the room to your heated body.
“El,” you whined, wiping your forehead with a hand, not at all concerned about her chosen point of entry. “Go away.”
Ellie’s gaze softened, a scoff sounding from behind your squeezed shut eyes. “Go away?” she mused, her voice much closer now.
The split second your eyes had been closed, Ellie had somehow silently made it to your bedside. You don't question it, you never do.
When a girl like Ellie sports small fangs and a taste for blood, her speed is the last thing you think to question.
“I don't feel well, don’t want you here.” you add, mouth pulled into pout as you look up at the freckled face of Ellie.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, bunny? Instead of shooing me away,” Ellie requests, sitting on the edge of your bed. Her cold hand finds your sweaty arm, sighing. “You’re burning up.”
Your neck tickles with heat as Ellie questions your current state, and you fall wordless. Somehow, it was more embarrassing to admit to your vampire visitor that you were starting your period than to simply tell her to leave. Obviously however, Ellie was not taking the second option as a valid answer.
“I started my period, nothing is helpin’ the cramps,” you explain softly, pressing your hand into the sheets of your bed to try and sit, to maybe find some sort of relief to the growing tension in your stomach. But the other set of hands is faster.
“Lay down,” Ellie insists, glancing down at you. You can almost see the cogs of her brain turning behind the evergreen in her eyes, a sort of fogginess settling over the color.
“Let me help you,” she eventually says.
“What? I told you nothi-”
Ellie presses her lips together to hush you, one wandering hand finding the dip of your hip, blunt nail tracing the goosebump coated flesh there. Sometimes she liked being so cold, simply because she enjoyed seeing how you reacted to it. If she was damned for what she was, she may as well use some of it to her advantage.
“What are you doing?” You couldn't help the shiver that followed her movements.
Suddenly your mouth feels dry, tongue unable to wet the plump fat of your lip. The scratching in your throat finds no comfort when you swallow, only further irritating your vocal chords. A choked noise finds the heavy bedroom air as fingers tug at your cotton shorts.
“Helping you,” Ellie repeats, her own mouth much more wet than yours. Even in the dim light of the moon you can see the glistening dew on her parted lips. Usually the look she currently wears is saved only for when her pearly teeth find the sensitive and already scarred skin of your neck. Not for.. this.
Your hands immediately slap to your heated cheeks. “Oh my god Ellie, no fucking way.”
The vampire, who had now moved below you on the bed, hums in disagreement to your little show of kicking feet, a hand too strong to be that of a human halting all movements.
“We always have fun when I come over,” The freckles of her face disappear as she glances down, fully pulling down your shorts.
“Not when I’m on my period,” you hiss quietly, the words feeling cracked and embarrassed as they leave your mouth. You could deny the growing arousal in your belly simply by how *mortified* you felt. Even with the churning feeling of deeply settled embarrassment, you make no further moves to stop Ellie. Not as the shorts fall to the floor with a dull thump.
“It’ll help,” Ellie soothes, the near frigid temperature of her hand calming the heat that rises on the skin of your legs. “Haven’t you heard things like this help with cramps?”
The words that are spoken almost teasingly fall upon deaf ears as her wet lips press right above your knee. “Please,” the auburn haired girl whispers, sounding a lot more breathy than before. “Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel better. ”
Ellie had a tendency to become a little less cold, figuratively at least, when she found her body nestled between your own. The unwavering voice you had grown oh so accustomed to always slid into a more mushy sounding version whenever it got intimate. Today, it seemed even worse. The words dripped with the sweet sounds of neediness, a sound that tasted sweet on your tongue, which swiped nervously over your dry lips.
“El..” Another kiss pressed further up the flesh of your warm thigh broke any following denial. “Fuck..” your chin wobbles, almost too embarrassed to actually say your following words, “Yea. Please help.”
You were sure if you believed something was watching down on you from the sky, it was with horror. Some people may call what Ellie was doing sinful. The angels in the clouds would shrilly gasp as fingers wrapped around your panties and tugged them and everything else from your bottom half, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes. Her shirt came next, the simple white cloth acted as something to watch as it pulled off of her chest, likely to avoid any mess. Some may call the sight of her dipping down again, green eyes looking up at your quivering lip, sinful. Maybe it was, surely the mewl you made when her lips found the heated flesh of your inner thigh was. But if you had to describe it, that wasn't the word you would use. You may even swear it was heavenly.
“Relax,” Ellie drawled, spreading your thighs further apart, despite the slight tremble to them. “I’ve got you, don't worry,” her voice soothed you enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed. The embarrassment simmered low in your belly, even more so when you could feel the arousal that dripped from you, which your vampire visitor had no problem pointing out. “So wet for me,” she groaned, lips still refusing to find home anywhere other than your thighs. Teeth sharper than your own nipped at the skin there, bucking your hips up. “You want this, don’t you?”
It was an obvious request for another confirmation of what was to come, but your chest felt too tight to reply, no air finding your lungs the moment her breath hovered over your pulsing core. “Tell me you want it,” she requests again, voice dipping into a softer territory again, searching for your approval. Her resolve was cracking however, jaw clicking as she tried her best not to dive straight into where she craved to be.
“I do,” you whine, eyes still closed as you answered, words met with the quick and overwhelming feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your wet center. You couldn’t think too hard about the fact she was doing this right now, not when the sharp gasp had come from two mouths instead of one, a quick call of, “Fuck,” from only you this time followed. Ellie had no words, not as her tongue made another long stripe up your pussy, going much slower than you liked. It led one small roll of your hips down into her, a sign for what you searched for.
It resulted in a hand gripping your hip, pressing you further down into the mattress, ceasing any attempt to control the movements. Her mouth pressed further into you, licking at the same excruciatingly slow pace, seemingly taking her time to enjoy the taste she found between your thighs. “El,” you gasp, eyes fluttering open to glance down at her. However her eyes were closed, another press further into you came, her nose bumping your clit as she licked into you. The rush it brings is almost enough to completely paint over the lingering cramping in your stomach.
The dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure seeps into your bones, making you feel too heavy to do much else than move a hand to find Eliie’s hair, fingers tangling between the auburn strands. You tried again to guide her movements, but she was much stronger than you, paying little mind to the shaky hand that tugged at her locks.
“Taste so fuckin..” she sucked in a breath, unable to keep from dipping back into your folds, humming. “So fuckin’ good,” she finishes, words reverberating against your throbbing core. It had you trying to squirm, held down by the stone light weight of Ellie’s grip. The deeper she licked, the more you fought against her. Your body ached the do something.. anything to find comfort in the overwhelming feeling of her still slow pace. The fingers in her hair tugged again, finding a low groan in response.
The air of the room had already been heavy on your feverish skin, but now it was nearing a state of unbearably humid. Every time Ellie’s tongue made a particularly aimed movement you felt another round of fire straight in the mess that was your clenching core. It all felt so heightened, so much better. The sticky feeling on your skin did not slow either of you down, and you had little care for the sweat beading on your flesh. Not when your favorite girl’s lips were doing such mind numbing things to you.
Had you told your past self, even that of just an hour ago, that you would have allowed it to happen.. They would have laughed in your heated face. The past version of you would have sworn up and down, prayed up to the mysterious sky, that this would never happen. But now- now you have no room for denial or regret. Your mind was becoming too cloudy to house thoughts of shame, questions of if this was right. Because it felt right. The slick sound of Ellie’s mouth against you sounded right, as did your little huffs and puffs that you couldn't hide. The cramps had subsided in tandem with the tightening band in you. But you needed more, and you were gone past a point of being embarrassed to ask for it.
“I need..” you try to speak, but Ellie’s lips wrapping around your clit is the cause of the death of the forming words. A jolt of your hips is one finally strong enough to rupture the heavy hold of the vampire’s hand. Your lame attempt at a command did not go unheard by Ellie, who for the first time since this began, pulled herself away from your cunt. Her eyes darted up, looking to meet your own. But you were far too focused on something else. Her lips were glassy with your wetness, which she licked without a second thought. But the usual clear sheen that you had been no stranger to seeing on her face was more of a rosy color, a stark reminder of the reason this had begun in the first place. The slight tint of red smeared onto her chin, across the corners of her mouth, and it was oh so addicting to see. You felt no lingering shame, no shiver of disgust. Instead it made you feel even more desperate to have her against you again, but first you had to listen to her speaking. “Need what, babe?”
The urge to simply shove her face right back into your cunt flipped through the pages of scenarios in your head, but the moonlight that painted the side of your lover’s face, illuminating the red paintbrush stroke of you, had you a little too separate to risk such a bratty action.
“I need more, El. Need to cum,” you manage to whine, one light push of her head to prove your point. Ellie dipped her head down again, pressing small kisses to your sticky inner thighs. “Just love taking my time with you,” she muttered, a few more pecks planted on you were a search for forgiveness, one you graciously accepted with a loud moan when the lips finally found your clit again.
Ellie seemed to take your beg to heart, the hand that held your hip slowly dipping between your thighs. Her searching fingers met just below her chin, one long digit sliding over your slit, teasing the weeping hole with a slight press. The air feels like it has been punched from your lungs when the finger sinks into you, just as evil as her mouth as it curls into you the exact moment her lips suck a little harder. You were sure she was looking to torture you with how slowly the finger pumped in and out, working and exploring around your walls that gripped around her so tightly.
You had always heard the mythical vampire was sadistic. Ellie had never been much of that, but with ever slow movement into your aching cunt, you began to believe the whispers. Your head turned lightly to stare at the open window, the stars that dipped in the night sky were surely spotlighting your body splayed out on the bed, the auburn haired vampire between your thighs was quite the show for all the celestial beings up in the night air, every single being held its breath and watched on, you were sure of it. You didn't blame the stars, or the moon, or whatever else may have their attention focused on this tantalizing sight. If you could, you would float right out of your body to watch on yourself.
Surely you looked a mess, chest heaving with the heat of the air, with the heat of Ellie. Your limbs shook just lightly, your fingers knotted your companions hair, the messy pile of clothes on the floor, the red that painted her cheeks. Surely it would make your cheek turn bashfully if you could see it. Maybe this was sinful. The little dip into your rushing thoughts is ended with the raspy tone of Ellie’s voice.
“Relax, bunny. Gotta relax for me,” Ellie cooed against you, a few more languid presses into your cunt causing you to finally loosen around her, coupled by the continuing ministrations from her mouth on your clit. Soone another finger joins the mix, the large fingers stretching you just right. She reaches spots that have you remembering the stars you had just seen behind the black of your squeezed shut eyes, a pathetic cry falling from your lips. This reaction only encourages her to continue, the pace of her suckles and thrusts into you speed up. It's harsher everytime she plunges into you, your hips moving lightly with the pure force.
“That’s my girl, there you go,” she compliments after a long moan, the words causing another clench around her fingers. You let out another string of incoherent whines and moans, grinding down into her messy face and fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you cursed yourself and Ellie for the certainly ruined bedspread under your ass, but it seems like the much smaller issue when you had *this* to focus on. You were nearing your peak, and it was no secret. Your grinds against Ellie became sloppy, ununiformed and more needy than before. No words could form on your tongue, only whimpers and unintelligible begs.
The vampire never lets up, curling her fingers, your walls clenching. her teeth grazed against your clit lightly enough to have you trembling, whining softly. She knows your body as well as you do, every small sign you were reaching the final moments before your world would explode. She knew what moves of her fingers would have your legs shaking, knew where to press, how hard to go. She was no stranger to making you cum, and she definitely was on the mission to make it happen now. Her free hand grips your thigh, pushing you even more impossibly open for her, fingers pressing into you harshly enough to draw another cry. She readjusts slightly, sinking even deeper into your folds. “C’mon,” Ellie whispers, the word slightly broken, shaky and pleading. Pleading as if she needed you to come as much as you did.
Maybe she did, because the moment your back arched, a near pornographic moan filling the heavy air, spilling out of the window and swirling against the peeping eyes of the stars and moon, she moaned with you. Her fingers still within you as you gushed around her, her lips still pressed to your clit. But as your thighs shook, she slid the fingers out and replaced them with her tongue again. The pink muscle flattened against your slit again like it had earlier, this time with no attempt at going slow.
If anything, she was ravenous. Every drop your pulsing center gifted her, she sucked down like she needed it, ignoring your desperate whines of overstimulation. You attempted lamely to press her head away with the hand still tangled in her scalp, but it was no use. The pleasure of her tongue was much too overwhelming to fight.
After a moment that felt like hours, she pulled away. Her tongue licked over her lips again, collecting the rosy colored cum from where it smudged there. Her eyes stayed on your own blinking irises as her fingers raised to her already messy lips. They were coated with the same mixture of red and clear shining wetness, and she sunk them into her mouth with a moan. The debautchary that took place in front of your eyes should have your stomach queasy, should have your legs closing and pressing far away from Ellie.
But of course it doesn't, instead you watch on with morbid curiosity, watching her tongue curl around her fingers, sucking the last bits of you, leaving a glistening layer of her own spit behind. She found no shame in this situation, no shame in drinking down evey single thing you would give her, so why should you?
“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes transfixed on the fingers as they fall from her lips and down to her lap, her eyes back on your own. She makes a move to crawl over you, arms locking you in from either side.
“Just got a taste of you bunny,” she mumbles, nudging her head into the crook of your neck.
Her lips pressed there, and this time you could feel her fangs under the plump fat of her lip. “Gonna let me have more?” she questioned.
Of course you would, of course you did. As you tilted your neck for her, the curtain to the side of you blew in the wind, and you closed your eyes.
“Yes.”
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vampqueen77 · 14 days
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Authors note: This is my first time writing anything, so please be nice! ❣️
Summary: The boys find out you have been talking poorly about yourself.
Ot8x reader 🫠
TW: sexual content (MDNI), afab reader, established relationship, insecurities, use of the color system, choking, use of pet names (babygirl, princess, baby, bunny, kitten, angel, sunshine, good girl, I think that's it), daddy kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, reader gets thighs slapped.
Let me know if I missed anything!
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It had been a normal day. Hanging out with the boys in the living room, just chatting and joking. Chan had been fairly quiet all evening. He was reminiscing about a conversation he had with his sister, Hannah. You had spent the evening shopping and going to lunch with Hannah as she was visiting from Australia.
According to Hannah, you had been back to your self-deprecating jokes. It concerned her how you viewed yourself and she relayed those concerns to her brother. Chan had become quite annoyed. This was an ongoing battle between you and the boys. They thought they had made it clear how much they loved you and how beautiful they found you. It's no secret to the boys that you have self esteem issues. You all had discussed on multiple occasions that if you were having self doubt that you would be honest and open with them. But you hadn’t.
“Baby? Can you come here?” Chan calls you. You walk over, settling between his spread legs as he places his hands on your hips. He looks up at you. "You know we love you right?"
"Yes?" You say laughing.
“And you know we think you're beautiful?" Chan asks.
Your smile softens and you nod your head. Chan smiles, "I don't know if I believe that." There's a short pause before he continues.
"A little bird told me you've been talking poorly about yourself. I thought we talked about this, did we not?"
"Yes." You answer, shyly. By now the other boys are heavily invested in your conversation, growing just as frustrated as Chan.
"We had an agreement babygirl. What did I say would happen if I found you talking about yourself like that?" Chan asks, his voice carrying a darker tone. You gulp nervously. "I would be punished," you whisper.
Chan sighs sadly. "Turn around," he orders. You do as you're told, turning to face the row of mirrors across from the couch.
"Take a seat baby." Chan says, wanting you to sit in his lap. Again you don't protest. Chans slowing snakes one hand around your throat, just holding you in place and forcing you to look at your reflection. His other hand takes up residence on your waist.
"Here's what we're going to do," Chan whispers in your ear, tilting your head to face the mirrors. "You're not going to look away from yourself. You're going to tell us each thing that makes you insecure and we're going to show you how you're wrong, do you understand?" Chan asks.
You know there is no point in fighting them, so you shyly nod your head. "I need words, babygirl. What's your color?" Chan asks you, staring sternly at your reflection. Somehow, you muster the ability to speak again. "Yes, I'm green."
Chan smiles fondly and gently kisses the side of your head. "Good girl. Go ahead baby." You take a moment to gather your thoughts, you knew better than to lie as that would just make things worse. You try to gather the courage to tell them the truth.
“My eyes, they’re too big for my face. It makes me look weird," you say shyly. Felix is quick to object from his place on your left. “No, baby. I love your eyes. The way they shine when you laugh brings me so much joy. It's my favorite.” He leaves a gentle kiss on your cheek.
You take a moment to process what Felix had said, turning to look him in the eye. The raw emotion in his statement flusters you for a moment. His eyes hold so much love when he looks at you.
“Good job, baby. Keep going.” Chan says, turning your head back towards the mirror.
You sigh, taking a minute to compose yourself before continuing. “My stomach. It’s just not very… attractive.” Jisung gasped loudly from his place on the floor in front of you. “Who told you that?!? I love your cute little belly! I love to lay my head on it when we cuddle.” He says, crawling and kneeling at your feet. “It's perfect.” Jisung continues as he leans up to lead a series of kisses down your chest and abdomen.
It feels so good. You close your eyes and lean your head back on Chan’s shoulder, whimpering.
There's a sharp slap on your thigh. You quickly open your eyes, focusing back on your reflection. Chan is staring back at you intensely as he soothes the sting. “Eyes on me, princess.” Nodding, you continue.
“M-my thighs. I think they’re too big.” You say quickly, taking your lip between your teeth. It was Seungmin’s turn to pipe in. “Your thigh are fucking heaven.” He says, gliding his hand across your right thigh. “The way they hold my marks so well…” Suddenly, Seungmin lands a harsh slap on your thigh, appreciating how the skin turns such a pretty shade of red. “Fucking perfect.” He reiterates.
You’re a whimpering mess, and they know it. They love it. The effect they have on you is obvious, as is your effect on them. Jeongin is desperate to get his hands on you. To show you just how perfect you really are. He joins Jisung on the floor in front of you, gently tracing your calf.
“Anything else, babygirl?” Chan whispers in your ear. You take a deep breath, unaware of the storm you were about to start.
“I don’t really believe that I please you well enough.”
The room goes quiet. Chan takes a deep breath before snaking his hand around your throat. You’re breath hitches. “Y/N. That is the craziest and most disrespectful thing you’ve said.” Chan says through gritted teeth. “Do you really think we would lie to you?” Chan continued, very clearly agitated. You quickly shake your head only for Chan to tighten his grip.
“I want words princess.” He whispers harshly.
“No!” You quickly answer. Chan just lets out another long sigh.
“Let me show you, baby” Chan says as his hand snakes down under your skirt, pushing your now very damp panties to the side to play your clit. You whimper and writhe, “Shh, let daddy play.” Chan says seductively. You attempt to cover yourself, but they simply couldn’t allow that.
“Let's take this off sunshine.” Felix says as he assists in removing your shirt. Seungmin sounds from your right with a satisfied hum. “Mmmm, no bra? It's like you were waiting for this.”
It isn’t long before Felix is holding your left thigh open with one hand while the other hand pins yours to the couch, Seungmin, mirroring the same position on your right. Both leaned over, taking a nipple their mouths.
You let out an embarrassing loud moan, bucking your hips to gain more friction. Before long, Jisung and Jeongin are taking over for Chan, sliding your skirt and panties down your legs in one fluid motion, working you towards your high. Jisung is quick to bury his face in your sopping heat, moaning out at your taste. He is sure to leave room for Jeongin to work. Jeongin watches your face as he slides two long fingers inside you. “So tight, baby.” Jeongin says, taking his lip between his teeth.
It isn’t long before they work up to a punishing rhythm. They assist by spreading you wider with their hands on your calves, massaging occasionally. Jisung's spare hand snakes down to pump his now erect cock as he whines into your pussy.
Chan's free hand moves to slightly grope the breast Seungmin is working on. The hand on your throat slightly tightens again. Minho approaches from your left. One hand massages the breast Felix is working on. He rests his other hand on Felix's head, petting softly, making Felix let you a deep moan.
Changbin takes a seat next to Seungmin and assists in massaging your right calf as Jisung gets lost in pleasure. He takes turns with Chan and Minho, whispering soft praises; calling you a good girl, telling you how well you're doing for them, how pretty and perfect you are.
All insecurities are forgotten. The only thing going you are able to focus on is the mind-numbing, euphoric pleasure coursing through your body. You can feel your high quickly approaching. You're so close to reaching that peak.
Hyunjin approaches from your right, taking his place behind you. One hand resting in his pocket, and the other grabs your chin, tilting your head back. Looking deeply into your eyes. "Hello there, angel." Hyunjin says, leaning closer. You let out a soft moan. Hyunjin chuckles, "Do you want something? Or are you too fucked out to use your words like daddy told you to?"
You look pleading into his eyes. "K-Kisses p-please", you manage to get out. He lets out a chuckle. He loved hearing you beg, but he wanted to reward you. Hyunjin wastes no time giving you exactly what you wanted. His lips smash on to yours. You immediately part your lips for him and he takes full advantage as he snakes his tongue into your mouth, making you moan lewdly. You break free from Hyunjin’s kiss as you start whimpering.
“P-p-please! Please can I cum?” You beg. Hearing a dark chuckle, you know it's Chan.
“Have you learned your lesson baby? Do you realize how perfect you are for us? How much we love and adore you?” Chan asks, sucking at the sweet spot behind your ear.
“Yes! Yes, please. Please.” You moan out, barely holding your orgasm back.
“Go ahead, baby. Cum for us.” Chan grunts out.
That was all the permission you needed. Seconds later you cum hard with a scream Your juices squirt out of you, soaking the boys at your feet (though they don’t mind one bit). Jeongin and Jisung kept going, working you through your high.
“Fuck bunny, you’re so good to us.” Changbin says. Hyunjin sounds from behind you, “So perfect.” There is a short pause and only your panting can be heard.
Minho leans in near your ear, “but we aren’t done with you yet, kitten.”
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norrizzandpia · 2 months
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okay i need an lando x reader now after p3 in qatar where he is finally happy again and the reader is the first who is there for him after the race.
Me when i have requests dating back all the way to last September! 😟
Look How Amazing You Are (LN4)
Summary: After Lando’s disastrous qualifying in Qatar and redeeming podium just hours later, Y/n is there to remind Lando of where his worth truly lies.
Warnings: references to q*t*r qual*fy*ng l*ndo (i sobbed for him that weekend), language, references to lando beating himself up (verbally not physically lol), talks of a marriage proposal
“AND IN COMES LANDO NORRIS! THE MAN STARTING AT P10 ONLY TO FINISH THIS RACE IN P3, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL RACE FOR NORRIS!” The man screamed into the microphone as Lando zipped by in his favorite papaya car.
Y/n, tears in her eyes, flashed back to the night before as she stared at the TV in the McLaren Garage, her boyfriend finishing better than he had anticipated. He had cried in her arms as they sat on the hotel bed as she tried to remind him of all the accomplishments he had made so far in the 2023 season. He had argued with her, telling her none of that meant shit if he continued to screw up as he did in qualifying and she had countered back, fighting against the verbal abuse he was putting himself through.
To say the least, she was scared for this race. She knew if he finished poorly, he would’ve been destroyed. It was concerning slightly when she genuinely took a look at how much Lando put his self-worth into racing, knowing one wrong move and he was so incredibly heartbroken. She hated to see him get angry with himself over something so minuscule in the grand scheme of things. So, as she watched him rise above everything he had gone through the day before and finish on a podium, she was on the verge of crying.
Jon pushed through the people in the garage, making his way to Y/n and smiling widely at her, giddy over the boy’s achievement.
“Come on, Y/n! You can see him when he pulls up at the podium if we leave right now!” He grabbed her hand, dragging her out to the outside and down the pitlane to reach the big podium.
“Jon! I never go to the gates!” She laughed as he continued pulling her throughout the masses.
All he did was look back at her with a dismissive glance, “He’s going to want you to be there after everything that’s happened this weekend!”
They reached the mass of papaya colored engineers and Jon pulled her throughout them, pushing them and apologizing, before shoving her in the front and center of the group. Just as he got his phone out, hitting record on his camera and knowing he was about to capture something that would have fangirls swooning, Lando began slipping out of the seat in his car.
A flash of green helmet invaded her vision as Lando began sprinting toward the group, his visor up and eyes wrinkled with a smile hiding beneath the protective gear.
“I DID IT, Y/N!” He screamed over all the whooping and hollering, falling into her arms as he giggled with joy.
She smiled back just as excited for him, “YOU DID, LAN! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!”
Hands and arms from the engineers surrounded them, patting Lando’s back and congratulating him on his finish. Jon stood next to the couple, still recording and elated for Lando.
When the boy pulled back, his eyes bore into his girlfriend’s as she grabbed ahold of his helmet and said, “Before you go up there, can you please repeat after me?”
He cocked his head, nodding nonetheless.
She shook his head lightly, “You are amazing and no bad qualifying defines how amazing you are.”
She could see the blush that riddled his cheeks as he continued to nod at her.
“That’s not repeating!” She exclaimed, looking at him sternly but both knowing how much of her love was held in the moment.
“I’m amazing and no qualifying defines how amazing I am.” He said begrudgingly, still smiling at her from behind his green helmet.
She grabbed ahold of their interlocked hands and kissed the back of his, “Thank you. I love you so much.”
He hugged her once more, “I love you too. Thank you.”
Jon ended the video just as Lando skipped off to the podium, leaning towards Y/n and showing her his phone.
“Aww, Jon, can you send that to me?” She asked, hearing Lando’s voice played back as he repeated her words back to her.
He nodded, “Already done.”
“Thank you.” Lando whispered into the quietness of the night as Y/n laid on his chest, her hair sprawled out on the pillow on the side she was supposed to be one. Although, Lando had pulled her into him the moment they hit the mattress, telling her she would not be sleeping on her side of the bed at all that night.
Y/n turned her head, her chin propped against his chest so she could look at him, “For what?”
He stared at the ceiling, “For being there for me through it all. I was a mess last night and you still sat with me, tried to talk me out of everything I was feeling. Then, today you celebrated the podium with me, reminding me of how wrong my words were last night. I just-” He peered down at her, “I love you so much and I’m so grateful to have you.”
She smiled, “Lan, you’re so sweet. I love you too and I’ll always be here for you, no matter what it’s for.”
He nodded, “I know. Doesn’t mean I still can’t tell you how rare it is to have what I have, which is you.”
The darkness of the room masked her red cheeks, “Well, that’s very nice of you.”
She rested her head back down, hearing his heart beat faster than usual, “Why’s your heart going crazy?”
He laughed, “I think because I just realized I’m ready to start planning a proposal.”
Her mouth fell open and she sat up, “For marriage?!”
He got up, sitting next to her and nodding, “Yes, is that too soon for you?”
“No,” She said without hesitation.
“Good,” He gave, lying back down and pulling her with him.
His heart still beat quite quickly as she listened to it, and her body filled with warmth. Maybe that was because Lando was just warm or the fact that he just told her they would be getting engaged soon, she didn’t know. A mix of both, she thought.
“You’re about to make so many young girls mad.” Y/n joked, eyeing her left ring finger and imaging a band around it.
Lando just chuckled and shook his head, “As long as I make you happy, I think I’m good. Happy wife, happy life, and all that.”
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loudstan · 1 year
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Perfect Little Toy
Summary: Mark was looking forward to meeting his mate, but he was not expecting to find her in a sex shop.
Pairing: Werewolf! Mark x Witch! Female reader
Warnings: smut, some angst, magic potions used during sex I guess? also this is way longer than my other fics sorry
 Mark should have known better. But when Haechan asked him to go shopping with him, never in a million years did he think they would end up in a sex shop.
“Dude, I don’t wanna go in there,” he hissed, trying to break free from Haechan’s unrelenting grip on his arm.  Haechan pulled harder, whining vociferously. “S-stop! People are watching,” Mark whispered urgently, trying to hide his face from the curious bystanders.
“What’s the big deal?”Haechan rolled his eyes.
“You could have ordered stuff like this online!” Mark sighed, reluctantly letting himself be dragged into the eye-catching store. “It’s weird to come here together.”
“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Haechan shrugged, walking to the nearest shelf and inspecting the x-rated shaped toys on display. “We are bros, aren’t we? Remember when you wanted to get a fortune telling reading but didn’t want to go alone? Who went with you?”
“Okay, first of all, you can’t possibly compare fortune telling to vibrators,” Mark argued, slapping Haechan’s hand away when it playfully brought a pink dildo uncomfortably close to Mark’s face. “Secondly, you literally found your mate in that shop, so you should be thanking me.”
“Well, maybe you’ll find your mate in here,” Haechan said.
“Very funny,” Mark deadpanned, offended at the mere suggestion of meeting his destined partner in such a lewd place. “Oh, shit I made eye contact with an employee, fuck he’s coming this way-”
“Hi, welcome to Pandora’s Box. My name is Jeonghan,” said a young man with dark hair and a bored expression as he pointed at the name tag on his shirt. “How can I help you today? Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”
“Hey,man!” Haechan greeted. “You see, my girl and I have a lot of sex-”
“Sure you do,” Jeonghan’s plain voice replied. If only he got paid extra for every time he heard that. 
“But she’s human and I’m a werewolf. I’m afraid I’m too big down there for her, you know?” Haechan continued with an arrogant smirk, pointing at his crotch just for extra clarification, Mark cringing behind him.
“Right,”said Jeonghan, clearly unimpressed. Again, if he got paid for each guy who said they were too big. “If you want to train her for your size, then we have some bigger models over here,” he offered, walking the two customers to a shelf with exotic looking silicone dicks. He shoved a massive  neon green dildo into Haechan’s hands.“This one was molded after a head alpha. It comes with a remote to simulate a knot,” he said as he pressed a button on the remote and  the phallic toy started growing in the werewolf's hands, who was in obvious shock. This was Jeonghan’s favorite part of his job: humbling men who thought they were the shit, when it goes without saying that there’s always a bigger dildo that can do a better job. “It glows in the dark,” he added, biting back a smile.
“Cool,”Haechan breathed out, trying not to show how much they had hurt his ego and ignoring Mark’s snort. “Uh–I’m not sure about the… the color, yeah,” There was no way he was buying a toy bigger than him. “Do you maybe have, uh–...something else? Maybe a potion or something that makes it less painful for her?” He added before that Jeonghan guy tried to show him another colossal toy.
 Jeonghan put the toy back on the shelf and lifted his eyebrows as he seemed to think about it for a second. “I guess a potion would work, yeah…This way, please,” he instructed, taking a very embarrassed Haechan and a now amused Mark to a different section of the shop, hidden behind some dark curtains. “Hey, Y/N! Do you have anything to make werewolf penetration more enjoyable for humans?” he asked loudly as they entered a small room decorated with tons of colorful potion jars and  illuminated by candles. 
 At first Mark choked at the employee’s vulgar words and coughed awkwardly. Then a sweet and fresh scent invaded his nostrils, making him freeze. He let out a shaky breath and inhaled once again, letting the summer-like scent fill his lungs and his brain go fuzzy, his eyes trying to focus on the source of such heavenly stimulation. There you were, the most beautiful woman Mark had ever laid eyes on, wearing an employee uniform and your hair tied up neatly not to get in the way of your job. You had stopped mixing a bubbly lilac potion in a cauldron to listen to Jeonghan and help him solve Haechan’s problem. And god, your voice was so melodic, Mark had no idea what you were talking about but he could listen to you forever.
“So this would make her produce as much slick as an omega in heat?” Haechan was fascinated, staring at an expensive looking potion in an elegant jar. 
“Well, not automatically,” you replied. “It will depend on how aroused she is. If you can’t  turn her on, it won’t help you.”
“So you’re telling me,” Haechan insisted, overconfidently. “That she’ll have no way to hide how turned on she is?” he was already thinking of how cute his girlfriend would look when she’s all wet and embarrassed. 
“Yes,” you replied dryly at the same time Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the cocky customer. 
 Mark, on the other hand, was in his own little world and couldn’t stop staring at your lips. Unconsciously, he found himself wondering if you would need to use that potion to make him fit or if he could make it work by taking things slow. Maybe if he ate you out real good and opened you up with his fingers it wouldn’t hurt that much. Mark didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to make you feel good, take care of you.
“Holy shit,” he gasped when it finally hit him. This was it. He had found his mate. In a fucking sex shop.
Haechan gave him an inquisitive look, but he quickly dismissed his friend’s reaction as him being impressed by the potion. 
“Anything else you need?” Jeonghan asked, making Haechan turn his attention to him once again. 
“Mm…Handcuffs?” Haechan asked after a few seconds of hesitation. 
“How original,” Jeonghan muttered, before indicating for Haechan to follow him back outside. Mark didn’t budge when his friend walked past him. It was like his feet were glued to the floor as he stared at you going back to mixing the suspicious-looking potion while humming to a sweet melody. His eyes landed on your name tag and he found himself saying your name out loud before he could stop it. You quickly looked up, surprised that the customer was still there.
“Yes?” you asked politely. “Can I help you with anything else?”
Oh shit, he had to think of something before you thought he was a creep. He licked his lips nervously before he came up with a question that sounded convincing enough. “I j-just uh… are y-you the owner?”
“Jeonghan and I both co-own this place,” you replied and gave him a smile. “Why?”
“N-no, because, like, you look very y-young so I w-was a bit…surprised, so…so I asked?” The way he ended as if he was asking a question was kind of cute if you were being honest and you couldn’t help but laugh. 
 Mark let out a giggle too, dazed at the fact that he had made you laugh. Oh, how he wanted to make you laugh everyday for the rest of his life. 
“We came up with this idea when we were in freshman year, so we had plenty of time to save money and plan everything,” you explained patiently. Somehow, this stranger made you feel at ease, like you didn’t need to be careful with him, or at least not the way you were with most men. “By the time we graduated we were ready to open the store. It’s like our baby.”
Mark felt a pang of jealousy at the fact that there was a man who was close enough to you to plan such a big project together. “That’s cool, uh– s-so are you two, like, a thing? A c-couple?”
 The sound of your laughter made Mark’s heart skip a beat and he smiled dreamily, almost forgetting what he had asked in the first place.
“No way!” you continued laughing at the ridiculous idea, Mark’s relieved sigh going unnoticed. “We’ve been friends since forever. Just a little advice; never make business plans with a romantic partner, kid.”
“I-I’m 23,” Mark laughed nervously, using the back of his hand to dry up some sweat beads accumulated on his forehead. Your sweet scent was so suffocating it was getting harder to breathe, but he couldn’t care less. 
“Oops, my bad! Not a kid,” you said. “You look so young, though! I’m jealous,” you complimented him, not wanting to admit that he also looked gorgeous. “What’s your name?”
“M-mark,” he stuttered. Cute.
“Nice to meet you, Mark,” you extended your hand for him to shake it, smiling more brightly at the way he giggled like an infatuated high-school girl. Everything seemed to be funny to him and it was endearing. He took your hand into his delicately and allowed you to shake it in a friendly manner when your heart started pounding ridiculously fast and you felt the room move around you. Mark’s hard squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality and you saw his body visibly wobbling as he closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “Mark?” you called his name worriedly, but he only whispered your name weakly before he collapsed on the floor with a thud.
“M-mark?” you breathed out, still trying to calm down your own fluttering heart. You knelt down next to his unconscious body and only then you noticed he was covered in sweat. “Shit. Hey, Mark!” you insisted, giving his face a gentle slap with hopes of waking him up. No response. You tried to stand up to go get help, but for some reason you had no strength in your legs. “Jeonghan!” you screamed as loud as you could. Few seconds later, Jeonghan burst into the potions room, his face incredibly pale and eyes wide open, this being the first time he had heard you scream like that. He looked from your terrified face to the motionless man on the floor, trying to assess damage. Immediately after came Haechan, carrying a basket full of different products, which he almost dropped when he saw the state his pack brother was in. 
“What happened?!” Jeonghan asked, kneeling down and wrapping an arm over your shoulders protectively. 
“I d-don’t know! I just shook his hand,” you said.
 Haechan, who had been checking Mark’s pulse, moved his hand from his wrist to his forehead, confirming that he was burning up. “So he became like this right after you touched him?” he asked, staring at you intently, his tone indicating that he knew something you didn’t. 
“I guess? I…I really didn’t do anything to him, I swear!” your voice shook, thinking you were being accused of harming such a nice guy. You tried to stand up but, again, your weak legs pulled you back to the floor and you let out a frustrated groan as Jeonghan helped you reach a chair. 
“Are you okay?” your friend asked you anxiously, stabilizing you on the chair.
“I’m fine!” you sighed. “I’m probably just nervous. I’m not used to people fainting in front of me- Why haven’t you called an ambulance yet?!” you urged him.
“No need,” Haechan interrupted you before Jeonghan could pull his phone out of his pocket. “This is just his rut. It was due a couple of days, but I guess it came early,” he explained, his eyes shining too excitedly for someone whose friend was unconscious on the floor. He chuckled under his breath like the whole situation was amusing. “He’s fine. He just needs to get home and rest.I’ll ask someone to pick us up,” he added, quickly typing on his phone.
 In less than 20 minutes, an old fashioned vehicle pulled up by the store, a man hurriedly getting off the car and making his way to the entrance, stopping midtrack once he opened the door and found himself surrounded by adult toys. 
“Yeah, yeah, this is a sex shop. People have sex, surprise!” Haechan said sarcastically, gesturing to the newcomer to come in. 
“How’s he?” the intimidatingly tall man asked, after clearing his throat and taking long strides towards where you were. Thankfully, the store was almost empty when the whole incident had taken place, so Jeonghan had quickly kicked the remaining customers out and closed the store, helping Haechan move Mark to a more comfortable place while you got some wet towels to reduce his fever. Now Mark was lying on an improvised bed made of blankets and clothes, almost looking like he was taking a peaceful nap. 
“He’s fine, Johnny,” Haechan chuckled. “Our little Mark is just a bit overwhelmed.”
Johnny turned to you and Jeonghan and thanked you for taking care of his brother, before kneeling next to Mark and Haechan. “I didn’t know his rut was due today,” he muttered.
“Because it wasn’t,” Haechan simply said, giving Johnny a playful look. 
 Johnny stared back at him and raised his eyebrows. “Then what-” he trailed off when he saw Haechan tilting his head furtively towards you, the movement barely perceptible but enough to make Johnny look at you out of the corner of his eyes. Thankfully you were busy talking to Jeonghan, who did catch Johnny staring before the tall werewolf quickly turned his back towards him and tried to move Mark carefully. “Which one,” Johnny whispered only for Haechan to hear, to which Haechan mouthed ‘the girl,’ eliciting an impressed grin from Johnny. “Okay, Markie, let’s get you out of here,” Johnny’s voice was back to normal volume, lifting Mark off the ground and carrying him on his shoulder, Mark’s weak groan being the only sign that he was alive. Haechan followed after him, carrying bags of new toys with him and thanking you again for everything before exiting the shop and getting in the car. 
 Once you and Jeonghan were left alone in the store, you let out a heavy sigh. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeonghan asked.
“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, stretching your body now that your legs seemed to function properly. “This town has more werewolves than I thought,” you suddenly said. 
“I´ve heard about those guys. It’s a big pack that moved here a couple of years ago, and for some reason the number of members keeps increasing,” Jeonghan huffed as he moved towards the counter to close the cash register. “I also heard some of them are imprinting on humans,” he added slowly, looking at you attentively. 
“Imprinting,” you repeated unconvinced such a thing was ever real. “Do you really believe in that whole soulmate thing wolves have going on?”
Jeonghan hummed and seemed to focus on his task of counting bills. “How would I know? I’m not one of them,” he finally said. “It could be real.”
“It’s an ancient tradition. Someone probably came up with it to keep them from having sex with whoever they want,” you spitted.
“They can still have sex with whoever they want,” for some reason Jeonghan was defending werewolves’ outdated way of thinking. “But they are more likely to settle down once they find someone who is very important to them.”
“That's called commitment,” you fired back. “Which is not the same as being forced to like someone through imprinting.”
“They are also gifted,” Jeonghan continued matter of factly, with a hint of annoyance in his voice, like he didn’t like admitting to it. “Down there. Massive dicks.”
“Jeonghan, we literally sell toys that could satisfy me better than a traditionalist guy with attachment issues who thinks having a big dick makes him special,” you deadpanned. 
“Okay!” Jeonghan sighed and raised his arms defensively. “No need to be so defensive.”
“I’m not-,” you stopped yourself because you were in fact being defensive. Why did you care? Was it really because you hated old-fashioned ways of thinking? Was there something else bothering you? To be fair, you had been unnecessarily mean; you didn’t think any of the werewolves you just met were traditionalist assholes with attachment issues. Mark especially seemed like such a kind and chill guy. The type of guy you would have asked out on a date if he hadn’t passed out in front of you. Maybe that’s what bothered you: was Mark the type of werewolf who followed traditions to the extent he wouldn’t even give you a chance in order to prioritize his supposed mate? “Sorry, you’re right. It has nothing to do with me anyways.”
When Mark woke up, his head was throbbing and your lovely scent felt like a distant memory. His muscles ached when he sat up and he winced at the way his shirt stuck to his sweaty body. As he took the messy shirt off he heard a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” he croaked, after taking a proper look at his surroundings and recognising his own room. The door opened slowly and the youngest member of the pack slid into his room, carrying a glass of water and a little medication bottle. Mark could already tell what type of medication it was.
“They told me to give you these,” Jisung offered him the suppressants and waited until Mark had successfully opened the jar and taken a pill into his hands before offering the glass of water.
“Thanks,” Mark muttered before swallowing the pill and gulping down the content of the glass. 
“Do you need anything else?” The younger asked sympathetically.
“No,” Mark assured him, already having gone through his rut so many times he just knew there wasn’t much he could do about it besides fucking it out of his system, by himself or with somebody else. “I just have to wait for the suppressants to kick in and I’ll feel a bit better.”
“Do suppressants really help?” Jisung asked curiously. He had only had a rut once and he spent it with his mate, so he didn’t have to suffer as much as his older brothers. 
“They make the whole thing bearable,” Mark answered, cracking his neck and sighing tiredly. “But it’s still a pain in the ass,” he admitted.
“Is he awake?” Haechan’s voice called from the door. “You got me worried when I saw you unconscious on the floor, man. I calmed down because I understood what was happening, but you probably scared the shit out of the people who worked at the store. That poor girl didn’t know what to do,” he chuckled, inviting himself into the room and sitting on Mark’s bed. 
“Fuck,” Mark groaned at the reminder of such embarrasing first impression and he flopped into the bed. “Y/N…”
“Who is Y/N?” Jisung asked.
“That, little Jisung, would be Mark’s mate,” Haechan revealed and then looked at Mark for confirmation. “Am I right?” 
 Mark whined and covered his face with his palms, but he nodded. 
“And you met her thanks to who…?” Haechan continued, looking from Jisung to Mark , adding a dramatic pause. “Me! I was the one who took you to that sex shop!”
“S-sex shop?!” Jisung choked on his saliva and stared at Mark in shock as if he was waiting for him to tell him it was one of Haechan’s jokes. 
“That’s right,” Haechan laughed and then he gasped as he seemed to remember something. “Hold on, I got you something,” he suddenly said, standing up and leaving the room shortly,and coming back with a pair of handcuffs which he gave to Jisung. “Here. These are for the next time your mate tries to run away.”
Jisung’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared at the pink, fluffy handcuffs in his palms. “S-shut up!” He stuttered as aggressively as he could in spite of his voice cracking. “Noona’s not going anywhere,” he muttered to himself.
“Fine,” Haechan rolled his eyes and extended his hand. “Give them back if you don’t want them.”
“N-no,” Jisung said quickly and hid the gift behind his back. “You gave them to me.”
“Can you have this conversation somewhere else?!” Mark suddenly groaned. Haechan’s voice was making his headache worse and he really wanted some peace before his rut hit completely. And he definitely wanted to be alone when touched himself to the thought of you. 
The next few days were a blur. Mark lost count of how many times he cummed in his hand, on the bedsheets and finally in a fleshlight that Haechan sneaked into his room as a gift at some point. At first,  ready to reject whatever ridiculous toy he was bringing, he yelled at Haechan to get out and threw a shoe at him, which Haechan avoided just in time by leaving and closing the door behind him. But then Mark caught your scent. It was very faint, but he would recognise it anywhere. Dizzy, he got up, and crawled towards the fleshlight Haechan had left by the door. He inspected it , never before being so mesmerized by a toy, and bringing it close to his face to inhale your scent deeply. “Y/N…”
“I knew you would like it,” Haechan chuckled from the other side of the door, startling Mark. “It’s a small human size.I went to the store and made sure Y/N was the one selling it to me. I asked her to open the product and test it in front of me…,” he teased. “She stuffed her fingers inside of it to demonstrate how flexible the material is.”
Mark groaned and slid his tongue into the toy hungrily, trembling as he got to taste a bit of you before your scent faded away. 
“She asked about you.I told her you were fine and that you were sorry for scaring her. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her the fleshlight was for you,” Haechan continued, oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the door. “That Jeonghan guy is totally onto me though; he wouldn’t stop glaring at me like I’m the  biggest perv-,” she trailed off as he suddenly heard wet, slippery sounds, indicating that Mark had wasted no time in using his new gift. “Gross! Wait until I’m gone!” Haechan yelled and ran off. Mark was too gone to care, fucking into the toy with intent and imagining it was you. 
No matter how insufferable Haechan was, this would really help him get through his rut more easily. He should thank him later.Later. Now he really couldn’t think with anything but his cock. He let his animal instinct take over and he forgot about everything and everyone except you, and by the time he gained some self control and clarity back, he found the sticky fleshlight completely destroyed in his hands.He panted heavily as he grabbed some tissues to clean himself before he stood up and put some clothes on for the first time in days. As soon as he opened the door he was met with a bag hanging off the handle containing a bottle of water and some energy bars, which he quickly devoured before heading to take a shower. 
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jeno asked him as soon as he entered the living room where some of the younger members of the pack were hanging out. 
“I’m good,” Mark sighed. “This one was kind of intense, though…”
“We heard,” Jeno said, quickly correcting himself when Renjun nudged him and gave him a pointed look. “I mean, we can imagine.”
“The first rut after meeting your mate is hell if you don’t spend it together,” Jaemin butted in. 
“To be fair, your mate was particularly difficult,” Jeno told Jaemin. “She denied you for months.”
“Which I’m sure won’t be the case for Mark,” Jaemin assured Mark, who was squirming anxiously on his seat. “You already know her name and where to find her, and from what we heard she’s single.”
“Wha-how do you guys know that?”
“Haechan said he couldn’t smell anybody else’s scent on her, besides the guy who works with her,” Renjun clarified. “Just go see her when you feel better-”
 Renjun’s voice was overpowered by loud whines and complaints coming from the main door, where Haechan and Yangyang were making their entrance.
“I didn’t know!” Yangyang sighed tiredly, like he had been forced to repeat the same thing many times. 
“Well now you know, you little traitor,” Haechan hissed, pulling Yangyang’s arm and carrying him to the living room, where everyone stared at them wide-eyed. “Oh, look! Mark is here! Why don’t you tell him who you were planning on letting suck your dick?”
“Look, Mark,” Yangyang gulped, looking anywhere except Mark’s confused face, which was quickly morphing into one of apprehension. “I didn’t mean to- I just-...I was walking back from campus and I saw that new sex shop downtown and there was this hot-” he interrupted himself and looked at Haechan, who was raising his eyebrows at him, encouraging him to go on. “-a woman. I-I saw a woman who was hanging a sign outside the store, something about needing a volunteer to try a new potion. So I asked what it was about, and she said-...” he paused again and breathed in, knowing there was no nice way to say it. “She said it was something that would like, uh- turn off her gag reflex when doing oral, and that she needed a guy whose size was above average and when I asked how she was gonna test it, she said that-...that she tried all her potions herself…So like, she would be the one d-doing the…the sucking,” he trailed off, his voice going quiet as he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him.
“...You didn’t,” Renjun was the only one to speak. “...did you?”
“Ugh, I…,” Yangyang groaned. “I’m a man, okay? Why would I say no to a pretty girl sucking me off and giving me cash for it?!” 
“MARK’S MATE GAVE YOU A BLOWJOB?!” Jeno exclaimed incredulously. 
“NO!” Yangyang quickly shut him up and looked for Mark’s lifeless eyes before denying it again. “No. Nothing happened. I had an interview with her and a guy who works there. They measured my cock, asked for a sexual health check-up and told me to come back tomorrow with the results. I called Haechan to ask him about a good clinic to get tested and he practically jumped down my throat,” he explained nervously. “I…I really didn’t know.”
Everyone stayed silent, looking at Mark who was scarily quiet, clenching his jaw and looking at his own hands folded on his lap. “So? Are you going tomorrow?” he asked cautiously.
Yangyang shook his head quickly, but it was Haechan who  spoke. “He isn’t. But you should.”
“Me?!” Mark bawled out. 
“Do you want her sucking somebody else off?!” Haechan spit back. “If it’s not Yangyang, there will be another dude out there who’s willing to do it.”
“Haechan’s got a point there,” Jaemin agreed. “She’s gonna test that potion anyways, and you were lucky that the one finding out about it was one of our pack. She won’t be looking for somebody else because she’s expecting Yangyang to show up tomorrow. This is your chance.”
“But she’s expecting him, not me,” Mark said bitterly. 
“Not at all! She didn’t seem particularly interested in me. She just thought I was hygienic enough, I guess,” Yangyang laughed awkwardly. “It was kind of intimidating how professional she was about it, to be honest.”
“This is the plan,” Haechan asserted, like he had been waiting the entire time to show how much of a mastermind he was. “Yangyang’s gonna call tomorrow before his appointment and let them know that he had an accident or something,” he quickly explained, ignoring Yangyang’s whine of how bad he was at lying. “And then he’ll say that he sent someone to replace him and BOOM! You show up with your STD test results and your monster cock and she falls in love.”
“Then he would have to go get tested right now,” Renjun said, entertaining Haechan’s plan.
“No need!” Haechan laughed like he was revealing the biggest plot twist. “Because last week, I forced Mark to go with me to get my annual check up and he ended up getting tested since he was already there. Who saved the day again? ME!”
“Problem solved, then,” Jaemin beamed, like it was actually that easy.
 Mark nodded slowly and then, when he actually processed what he was agreeing to, he shook his head violently. “No, no way. I can’t do it.”
“What?!” Jeno asked. “Man, you have to!”
“I- I just can’t,” Mark stuttered.
“What, is she ugly?” Jeno asked incredulously. 
“No,” both Mark and Yangyang answered immediately. Mark narrowed his eyes and glared at Yangyang who didn’t seem to think he said anything wrong. “What? She really isn’t,” he tried to defend himself.
Mark sighed. “I literally just met her. I haven’t even asked her out. How am I supposed to-...do that?,” he admitted.
“I understand this may not be your ideal version of a fated meeting,” Renjun spoke in a calming manner. “But if you want to take things slowly, you must know that she will be testing all these…sex potions with somebody else. Are you okay with that?”
Mark shook his head and clenched his fists, biting his lip. Hell, no.  He could never be okay with anybody else touching you now that he met you. But that was exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t man up and showed up to get a platonic blowjob from his mate who didn’t know was his mate and would suck him off for science/magic purposes only. 
 And so, Mark found himself standing outside your store the next evening, wearing an expensive hoodie (to keep it casual, but not broke), gray sweatpants that, according to Haechan, accentuated the goods, brand new boxers and holding a neat folder with his check-up results printed in his hands.He took a deep breath in and stepped towards the door, before stopping himself again but this time the door opened from the inside,and  he was greeted with Jeonghan’s impassive face. 
“Are you gonna come in or not? It stresses me out to see you having whatever internal battle this is in front of my store,” Jeonghan said.
“No-I mean, yes! I was just about-...uh, my brother asked me to- well, he like, sent me to-...,” Mark struggled to get to the point and ended up just giving Jeonghan the folder he was holding. Jeonghan grabbed the folder with a puzzled look, which quickly became one of amusement as he opened it and understood what he had in his hands. 
“You’re Yangyang’s replacement?” he asked, his tone slightly playful.
“Uh, yes…if that’s okay,” Mark said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. What if he wasn’t what they were looking for?
“Well, you’re clean and you seem to have a decent size,” Jeonghan pointed out, looking at Mark’s crotch shamelessly. “I’ll just need to ask you a few questions to make sure we’re good to go. You’re also allowed to ask us anything and back down if you feel it’s too much for you,” he explained, making space for Mark to enter the shop and then hanging a sign indicating that they were closed. He then guided Mark to the room where he had first met you before he had any time to prepare himself. “Hey, Y/N, look who’s back!”
You were not expecting to see Mark at all after what had happened last time. First of all, he had literally fainted in your store, which you thought was enough to make him not want to go back there ever. Secondly, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would casually go to a sex shop. But there he was, standing in front of you and stuttering something about wanting to volunteer for potion testing. As he was speaking, you found yourself looking down and vividly staring at his dick print, salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. When you looked back up, your eyes met Jeonghan’s knowing ones and you knew he had caught you red handed. Okay you had a tiny crush on this Mark guy, but what you were about to do was strictly professional. 
“Are you sure you’re okay doing this? Didn’t you go into rut recently?” you asked, indicating for him to sit down in the chair across yours, as Jeonghan took a sit next to you, going over some papers and taking notes. 
“I’m fine. Also…I’m sorry for last time,” Mark rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It must have been shocking.”
“Don’t apologize for that. I-...” you quickly corrected yourself. “We are glad you’re okay. If you want to do this we need to ask you a few questions first, is that okay?”
When Mark nodded, Jeonghan shot the first question. “Are you a virgin?”
“N-no,” Mark stuttered. “I’ve…I’ve had sex.”
“When was the last time you had sexual relationships?” you asked, trying not to make it noticeable that what you actually wanted to know was if he was seeing someone.
“Uh maybe 5 months ago? Or more, I’m not too sure, sorry.”
“No girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” Jeonghan asked, even though that was not one of the questions on the list.
“No, I’m single,” Mark stated more confidently, his eyes darting towards you nervously. 
“Would you be willing to participate in future testing for our products?” you asked, again trying not to show how much you wanted him to say yes.
“Yes,” Mark said firmly, this time staring right into your eyes. He wanted you to call him and only him for whatever you wanted to test. You blushed a little, but quickly hid your face behind some papers you pretended to be reading.
“Did you like the fleshlight?” Jeonghan asked as quickly as Mark answered the previous question, again, not following the script.
“Yes,” Mark answered honestly, caught off guard, and blushing furiously when he properly understood  what he had just admitted. Shit. Fuck. Okay, Mark, keep it cool, nothing wrong with using a fleshlight. Just move on to the next question. “But I split it open, s-sorry,” fuck why would you tell them that, Mark?!
“Oh?” Jeonghan was having the time of his life. “How come? Our toys are very resistant.”
“The toy was g-great! Amazing quality, very soft,” Mark cringed at his own words, because he had no idea how to rate a sex toy and it showed. “It’s just that ruts are… rough,” he said for a lack of a better word to describe how wild things got when his wolf consumed him.
 You gulped and cleared your throat while Jeonghan let out an impressed whistle and took some notes. “I guess we need to make them even more resistant, then,” you said. “Anyways, Jeonghan is going to measure you now so I’ll step out for a minute and come back when you’re ready, okay?”
When Mark agreed, you left the room and went straight to the restroom to wash your face and calm yourself down. Did he really break the toy with his dick? Fuck, he was going to destroy your throat. But then, he was the perfect candidate to test the potion; if you could deep throat him, it meant your creation had been successful. You took a deep breath in and drank the anti-gagging potion before you made your way to the potions room, waiting for your sign to go in. Then Jeonghan came out and wiggled his eyebrows at you, chuckling.
“I’ll bring you some honey and lemon tea for your throat tomorrow,” he said, winking at you and walking towards the counter to count today’s cash. “He’s all yours.”
You rolled your eyes and walked in. “Mark? are you ready?”
 Mark was standing, adjusting the hem of his sweatpants around his hips, giving you a teaser of his defined abdomen and hipbones. He blushed, and nodded. “So… how should we do this?”
“Just take a seat and let me do the rest,” you instructed, quickly kneeling in front of the chair he was now sitting in.
“Y/N,” he suddenly called your name, and his hand stopped yours from pulling the elastic of his pants down.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, your heart dropping at the thought of being rejected. “Did you change your mind?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I was just wondering… Why are you trying the potion yourself? Couldn’t you have found somebody willing to test their gag reflex?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” you muttered, distracting by the way his thumb was drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “But I find it hard to trust other people when it comes to feedback. This is my product so I want to make sure it works. Plus, I happen to have a strong gag reflex; everything makes me choke,” you shrugged, without noticing the way Mark’s breath stuttered. “So if someone can tell if this potion works, it’s me.”
Mark nodded and exhaled. “Is this the very first time you drink this potion?”
“No. I’ve tested it with inanimate objects, like some of the dildos we sell,” you said and Mark hoped you hadn’t noticed the way his dick twitched at the mental image of your pretty lips sucking on a toy. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna vomit all over you,” you chuckled, trying to ease the tension. You wanted Mark to relax, to feel safe with you. “Any more questions?”
 Oh, there was so much that Mark wanted to ask you, like what was your favorite color or if you liked flowers, but he knew it was not the right time, so he just shook his head and released your hand, letting you pull down the waistband carefully. Once you lowered his sweatpants slightly, you looked up at him, looking for any sign of discomfort, but besides the intense blushing that covered his face and ears, he seemed fine, so you took it further by pulling his boxers down enough to release his cock and you gasped out loud. Now you could understand how he managed to destroy the fleshlight.
When you stared at his dick for way too long,Mark got the wrong idea. “You d-don’t have to-“ he tried to say but he ended up hissing when you took him in your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s perfect,” you murmured before remembering you had to keep it professional. “For testing, I mean.”
“O-okay, okay g-glad to hear-ooh!” Mark definitely shouldn’t be trying to have a conversation right now. You had barely touched him and he was already half hard. He should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t even think when you were in your knees between his legs and stroking his cock like that.
 On your side, you knew you didn’t need to be jerking him off. The deal was just to put it in your mouth and see if it could reach your throat without gagging you, but it was like you had no control over your actions right now. Just like last time you had seen Mark, your heart was fluttering and you felt lightheaded and all you wanted was for him to feel good.
 Carefully, you flicked the head of his cock with your tongue, causing his back to arch and his hips to chase your mouth. “S-sorry,” he quickly apologized, already panting. 
“It’s fine,” you purred, your tone a bit too seductive to be professional. Fuck what was Mark doing to you? You were basically drooling as you trailed your tongue from the base to the tip. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”
“Fuck,” Mark moaned, throwing his head back and clenching his fist on his sides, not quite knowing what to do with himself. “Y-yes,” he consented.
 You didn’t waste more time, guiding the head of his cock into your mouth and sucking softly, and delighting on the hushed curses that left Mark’s mouth. You worried the problem wouldn’t be your gag reflex; you had underestimated his girth, which was making it difficult to even fit him between your lips. You worked on relaxing your jaw and took a bit more of his cock in, trying your best not to let your teeth scratch him.
“Shit…Y/N,”  Mark sobbed, trembling under you, when his tip met your throat and you successfully swallowed around him.  One of his hands grabbing the hem of his hoodie and lifting it enough to expose his tense lower abdomen. You looked up through your eyelashes, enamored by the way his brows furrowed in pleasure and his chest rose and fell. Before you could think about what you were doing, your hands traveled up, caressing his waist and stomach, which contracted under your hands. Your head bobbed up and down slowly, still trying to remind yourself to be careful of his size in spite of his soft moans driving you crazy.
“Mark,” you call for him, swirling your tongue around the tip teasingly. “Mark,” you repeat when he doesn’t reply, eyes unfocused and mouth agape as he panted. He acknowledged you with a soft ‘hmm?’ and you spoke again. “I need you to fuck my mouth now,” you spoke casually, like you were talking about the weather and Mark could have died right there.
“Wha-,” he stuttered, trying not to panic. “W-what?!”
“I need to check if the potion is still effective when things get rough,” you blushed, hoping not to sound too desperate. In your defense, it was for the sake of the experiment, but a part of you really wanted Mark to fuck your mouth. “You don’t want to?” you whispered, suddenly considering that maybe he wasn’t into you and was only doing this for the money. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying himself as much as you thought. And that shouldn’t bothering you, but it was.
“It’s not that,” he sighed, trying to ignore how hard he was and how badly he did want to face-fuck you. “I’m-...I’m stronger than I look, Y/N. I would ruin you.”
“That’s the point,” you simply said, again trying to help him relax, but also god, did you want it. Mark groaned and clenched his eyes closed, a bead of precum sliding down the head of his cock to your hand that was jerking him off slowly. “So, no?” you asked one last time. Mark bit his lip and avoided your eyes, and you felt officially rejected. “That’s fine, I won’t force you,” you accepted your defeat, trying not to be too bitter about it, slowly letting go of his dick and getting ready to stand up and leave with some dignity. “Please tell Yangyang to come whenever he has time-”
 Now, that seemed to do it for Mark. Before you could stand up or finish speaking, he tangled his hand in your hair and pushed your head down onto him roughly. A guttural moan left his lips and you whined in surprise and looked up to him; his eyes had turned red and his jaw was clenched. Without a word he pulled your hair a little and thrusted his hips up sharply, causing you to let out a muffled cry. 
“Like this?” he panted, placing both his hands on your head and moving you up and down his length fast, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. “Is this what you w-wanted?” he growled, not even hiding how irritated he was at the thought of you sucking off his pack brother. The way your jaw stretched for him was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t deny this side of Mark was turning you on. You found yourself wondering if this was the way he treated that poor fleshlight. You also wondered if he had, at least for a second, thought of you during his rut. You moaned around him and his eyes rolled back. “Fuuuuck.”
 He quickly brought his eyes back to look at you, like he didn’t want to miss a single detail and thrusted his hips up into your mouth at the same time he guided your head up and down his cock, his moans becoming louder and more desperate, completely forgetting that Jeonghan could probably hear everything from the other room. You looked so pretty, and he hoped you knew that, so he said it.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he said, one of his hands caressing your cheek, while his other hand kept your head in place to take his slower but more forceful thrusts and swallow the salty precum that for some reason tasted addictive to you. You looked up to him, surprised at the sudden gentle words. You knew for a fact there was no way you looked pretty when you were a drooling mess, with sloppy hair and a dick down your throat, but his mouth hanging open in pleasure, forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and the way he looked at you with those intense red eyes filled with lust and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on somehow made you feel like the prettiest girl on earth. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks and swallow around his length and Mark finally lost it, letting out a loud moan that sounded like your name mixed with profanities as hot and thick liquid invaded your tastebuds. Mark kept your head right there while he rode the aftershocks of his orgasm, making sure you swallowed every drop and caressing your hair and praising you until he lost all strength and let his body relax on the chair, releasing the hold he had on you. You let go of his cock with a soft ‘pop’, pulled his pants and boxers back up and rested your head on his thigh, trying to catch your breath and clenching your thighs to get some relief, incredibly aroused. 
“W-was that okay?” Mark asked after a while, hoping you didn’t hate him.
“Yeah…” you replied dreamingly, feeling lightheaded. “Perfect.”
“Y/N,” Mark breathed out, caressing your hair and looking at you lovingly. “Can I…Would you let me make you feel good too?”
“Huh?” you croaked, looking up at him. Mark inhaled deeply and sighed, focusing his eyes on your crotch and then you remembered that wolves had an enhanced sense of smell.He could surely smell how wet you were. How embarrassing. “Oh, no! Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up too quickly and almost falling because your legs were not ready for that. Mark immediately stood up and caught you in his arms, pulling your body and face dangerously close to his. “I- it’s…,” you tried to speak, but it was hard when Mark was close enough to kiss you. “You don’t h-have to, r-really,”
“I want to,” Mark whispered like he was hypnotized, licking his lips and staring at yours hungrily. “Please let me…” 
 Oh, he was trouble. You wanted to say yes to anything he asked from you. But your prideful side reminded you that you had had to basically beg him to fuck your mouth. It wasn’t like he actually wanted you. “No need,” you finally said, pushing him away gently and turning around to search for his payment. You came back to him and offered him an envelope with cash. “Thank you for your help. It looks like the potion works perfectly,” you said politely, becoming your professional persona again, much to Mark’s disappointment. 
He looked from the envelope to your face, until he remembered that, according to you, what had just happened was all business. The fact that you would go on thinking that he would just let anyone suck him off for money made him feel physically ill, but then, he is the one who showed up for the job. He looked away and nodded, before taking the envelope and stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, without sparing it a glance. “No problem,” he muttered, dragging his feet towards the exit, but he stopped himself after a couple of steps, addressing you. “Hey, Y/N! Uh… do you, like, maybe- I was wondering if you,” just ask for her number,dude. Why can’t you do it?! “Is there any other potion you need to try?” he asked instead. Mark, you fucking loser.
“Uh…” you pondered for a few seconds. You would love to see him again, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. But he did say he would be willing to participate in future testing during the interview. “There’s something I’m working on these days,” you admitted shyly, shifting around because of the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs. 
“Call me,” Mark said quickly. “Whenever you want to try a new product, call me first,” he added, pointing at the folder where Jeonghan had written all his information, including his phone number. “I’ll t-try them out… with you.”
“O-okay,” you knew you were blushing and you couldn’t even hide the small smile on your lips. Again, you tried not to let it get to your head; for all you knew he could just be desperate for more cash. “We’ll let you know.”
��As soon as Mark got home, he was met with uncountable indiscreet questions. The entire house, and maybe the neighborhood knew he had been out there getting a blowjob.
“Did she fall for you?” Haechan asked, coming from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne ready to be opened. 
“Not even close,” Mark grunted. 
“What?!” he lowered the bottle, disappointed.”What happened?!” 
“She gave me the best orgasm of my life and then gave me money,making it very clear it had been for the sake of her business,” Mark muttered, plopping on the couch as his brothers surrounded him with curious eyes. “Didn’t even let me return the favor…”
“So this is it?” Chenle butted in. “You’re giving up?”
“No, I… I told her I was willing to volunteer to test other products and she said she would let me know if something came up.”
Some of the guys gave each other skeptical looks, communicating with their eyes that they thought you wouldn’t call Mark.
“No. You’re going to that store every damn day if you have to,” Haechan said stubbornly.
“Just because it worked for you, it doesn’t mean it will work for everyone,” Mark sighed, remembering how Haechan had showed up in their mate’s store everyday for months to win her over. “A guy going to a sex shop everyday? She’ll think I’m a perv.”
“Persistence is key,” Haechan insisted, but Mark wasn’t listening anymore. He stood up and left to lock himself in his room, leaning against the door. He took the cash envelope out of his pocket and threw it somewhere on the floor, letting out a frustrated groan. He should have asked for your number like a normal man interested in a woman. Why did he have to be such a coward? He probably wouldn’t hear from you again.
…But he did. After a couple of weeks of him watching the store from afar (while Haechan straight up went to the store and bought whatever just to make sure you weren’t testing any potions with somebody else), one morning he got a call from an unknown number.
“Hello?” he murmured lethargically, still half asleep.
“Hello? Is this, uh…Mark Lee?” your voice asked on the other side of the line.
“Y/N, shit-,” he sat up immediately as soon as he recognised your voice. “Sorry, I was- Y-yes, this is M-mark.”
“Hi, Mark, this is Y/N ,from Pandora’s Box,” you introduced yourself even though you had clearly heard him say your name. “We were wondering if you were still interested in helping us test our products,” you recited just like you had practiced a thousand times before making the call.
“Yes, please!” Mark answered way too quickly. “I mean, I would love to- I… sure, I can help.”
“Would you be available Saturday night?”
“Y-yeah, Saturday sounds great,” honestly, he would have showed up in his pajamas right now if you had asked him to.
“Great! I’ll text you the address. Save my number!” you said quickly and hung up before he could question if it all had been a dream. You put the phone down and glared at Jeonghan. “Happy now?” you asked him sarcastically and he laughed.
“Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” he asked back. He had been teasing you ever since the last time Mark had visited the store. Being your best friend meant he could immediately tell when you liked someone and you really really liked Mark. So Jeonghan, being the good friend he was, had been pestering you day and night to call Mark directly instead of recruiting new volunteers to test your potion. 
Still on his bed, Mark was having a thousand different thoughts a second. You’d said you would send him an address. So you wouldn’t meet at the store? And you also told him to save your number… so the phone you used to call him had to be yours, right? Oh god, was this like a date? Just then, a notification of a message from the same number popped up, informing him of the address he had to go to the next day. Nothing more, and nothing less. He bit his lip nervously. Why did you have to keep treating everything like a job? Would it kill you to send an emoji? But he told himself this was no time to be pessimistic. You had called him, and that was a good start.
 And here he was now, on a Saturday night, ringing the bell of an apartment and trying to control his anxiety. 
“Mark?” He was met with your flustered face when you opened the door, wearing an oversized shirt that had him wondering if you were completely bare under it. “You’re early!” you said, pulling the hem of the shirt lower to cover you better. “S-sorry, come in! I’ll just get changed quickly.”
“You don’t have to!” Mark said way too fast, having a hard time to stop looking at your thighs. “I m-mean, you can if you want to, but I…I don’t mind… like, at all.”
You blushed and stared at Mark, not knowing how to reply to that, because he was obviously checking you out.
“I mean, this is your house,” Mark stated. It wasn’t a question; your scent was everywhere. “You get to wear whatever you want, right?” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t making it that obvious that he didn’t want you to cover up. “Why are we meeting here, by the way?”
“I thought some privacy would be nice,” you said, remembering how Jeonghan made fun of you because of how loud Mark had been last time. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“Not all all.”
“Cool,” you sighed. “I just need to add a couple of ingredients and the potion will be ready. Make yourself at home,” you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding not to change clothes, partly because your current outfit was comfortable, but mostly because you secretly enjoyed Mark’s eyes on your body.
Instead of finding a seat and killing time on his phone, Mark followed you, hoping you didn’t mind some company. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you do your thing, trying to come up with something to say to start a conversation.
“How’s your throat?” he finally asked, watching you almost drop the spoon you were holding. 
“Fine,” you gave him a short answer. He didn’t need to know you could barely speak for a couple of days after you deepthroated him.
“Good to hear,” he whispered, watching you with doting eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed. Maybe it was because your aroma was surrounding him, but he found himself feeling more relaxed and open to speak without filtering his words.
“You didn’t hurt me,” you assured him, not daring to look at him and focusing on your potion instead. “You were…really good.”
“Yeah?” he purred, feeling lightheaded by the domestic view of you wearing nothing but an oversized shirt in the kitchen, wishing he could see this everyday of his life.
“Y-yeah,” you gulped,feeling his eyes boring into you. “Okay, uh-I’m gonna need a drop of your blood,” you changed the topic quickly.
“Sure,” Mark didn’t even question it. You could have all of him. He walked towards you and let you grab his hand, using a needle to prick his index finger as fast and unpainfully as you could, letting a single drop of his blood pour into the cauldron. Immediately after, you did the same to your own finger, letting your blood mix with his in the potion. “What does this potion do?” Mark asked.
You gave him a surprised look. “Didn’t I tell you on the phone?”
Mark shook his head, chuckling. You remembered how you were so nervous you hung up on him as soon as he agreed to help.
“And you still came? Without even knowing-” you gasped when Mark took your hand into his and slid your injured finger into his mouth, softly sucking on it.
“Does it hurt?” he asked gently, giving it little licks,  completely forgetting the conversation you were having just now.
“N-no,” you sighed, confused and nervous at the loving way Mark had been behaving ever since he entered your place. Maybe he was just being nice and you were imagining things. “Anyways, about the potion,” you raised your voice in panic, removing your hand from his and going back to mixing the potion. “It will make you feel what your partner feels. This way, people can know if what they are doing is enjoyable and no one needs to fake their orgasms.”
“Have you?”
“Have I what?” you asked, now pouring the bright pink potion in two different glasses and offering one to him.
“Faked an orgasm?”
“Of course. Not like men care enough to check,” you said, hearing Mark tsk next to you. “So, after we drink this potion, I would need you to touch yourself,” you swallowed nervously, hoping not to scare Mark away with your straightforwardness. “ Nothing too wild, just something that feels good to you and we’ll see if I feel it too… if you are still up for it?”
Mark raised an eyebrow and straight up drank the potion, not leaving a single drop behind. He wouldn’t even dream of letting you try that out with somebody else. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head towards your glass. You hesitated for a moment before drinking the potion too.
“S-so, you can use the bathroom and uh-...do whatever you need t-to do,” you stuttered nervously, showing him where the bathroom was and letting him have some privacy. You assumed he would probably need to watch some porn on his phone or something, but you had no idea your scent already had him on edge. As soon as you sat down on the sofa, you felt a tingling sensation on your neck, which traveled to your shoulders and then your arms. And then it clicked; you were feeling his fingers. He was gently caressing his own body like he would to a lover and you could feel it on yourself. You gasped when the invisible fingers ran down your chest and grazed your nipples softly before toying with them. Oh fuck, the potion really worked.
Mark never took his sweet time like this when touching himself, but just thinking that he was indirectly touching you made him want to seize the opportunity. He closed his eyes and let his hands move like they were exploring your body. He teased himself by running his hands up and down his abdomen several times, always stopping at the waistband before sneaking only the tip of his fingers in, imagining you begging him to get to it.
In the other room, you were mentally begging for him. His faint touches had you trembling and wanting to touch yourself. You didn’t, because you knew he would feel it if you were pleasuring yourself and it would be embarrassing, but god you wanted to. Thankfully, Mark seemed to have mercy on himself-on you- and slid his hand past his boxers, fully palming himself and letting out a moan that echoed past the bathroom walls. You bit your lip to suppress the moan that almost escaped you, quickly crossing your legs at the sudden stimulation, arching your back when you felt slow circles being drawn on your clit. Shit, he was teasing the head of his cock, going from slow big circles to tiny fast ones that had you squirming on your seat. That’s when it hit you that he wasn’t doing this to himself, but to you. This fucker was doing it intentionally. 
 Mark started stroking his cock furiously, knowing it would take you by surprise and smirking victoriously when he heard a whine coming from the living room. He was so thankful for his enhanced hearing right now, because he could hear every little gasp you let out like you were right in front of him. When he felt himself close to his climax he stopped moving his hand and chuckled at the way you whimpered. He pulled his pants back up and exited the bathroom to find you in the living room.
“Did it work?” he asked innocently, trying not to laugh at your frustrated, blushing face. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again and nodded. He eyed you up and licked his lips, before sitting on the couch in front of you. “Shouldn’t we test if it works both ways?”
“W-what?” you croaked, breathing heavily. 
“Don’t you need to know if I feel what your body feels too?” he asked, scanning your body carefully.
Even in your aroused state, you knew he was making sense. Plus, you were so close and desperate to cum you didn’t care if it was embarrassing anymore. But you also wanted to get back at him for teasing you. So you obliged, sliding one of your hands under your shirt right there in front of him. His breath hitched and his eyes widened when he saw what you were doing.He was a bit disappointed when he saw that you were in fact wearing a pair of shorts under your shirt, but he wasn’t going to complain when he had you groping your tits in front of him. He sighed shakily at the way you floundered your breasts, occasionally teasing your nipples.
“Can you feel it?” you asked.
Mark licked his lips and shifted on his seat. If he admitted he felt it, would it be over?Would you give him money and kick him out again? He had to make it last. “I-...I’m not too sure. My nipples are not very sensitive so m-maybe…you could touch somewhere else?” he asked hopefully, letting his eyes fixate on your crotch. 
“You’re not sensitive there?” you teased, sliding your hands down your stomach to your shorts. “But you were touching them so much earlier…”
“Did you like it?” he asked hopefully, his body leaning forward and falling on his knees on the floor, slowly crawling towards you and breathing heavily..
“This isn’t about my pleasure,” you sighed, your words contradicting how wet you were when your fingers made contact with your pussy.
“Why not?” Mark asked, on his knees in front of you, looking at your fingers move up and down under the fabric of your shorts.He swallowed back a moan at the way your teasing touch felt on his own body thanks to the potion. “Why can’t it be?”
“I just w-want the best for my b-business,” you said stubbornly between moans, getting closer to your orgasm when a pair of strong hands stopped yours from moving and you gasped. “M-mark?” 
“Then we should test this shit right, don’t you think?” Mark asked through gritted teeth, his eyes displaying the same red color you saw when he fucked your throat weeks ago. 
“T-test it right?” you repeated dumbly, as he took your hand out of your shorts.
“Do you normally just meet up with sexual partners, watch each other touch themselves and call it a day?” Mark asked you nonchalantly. 
“N-no, but…”
“Isn’t the entire point of this to feel if our partner likes what we do to them?” he clarified, gently placing his hands on each of your knees.
 You froze at his words. Was he suggesting you touched each other? You already liked him way too much for what would be a normal crush. You knew you would fall for him badly if you two went any further.
“Let me,” Mark pleaded, moving his palms up and down your thighs and applying more pressure on a spot on your inner thigh he literally felt you liked better. 
Would it really be that bad to give in? To enjoy yourself a little? To allow yourself to feel something for him?
“Okay…” you finally said and Mark didn’t waste a single second more, pulling your tiny shorts off and groaning at the sight of your wet panties sticking to your pussy. He licked you languidly through the thin fabric and moaned loudly at both the way you tasted and his own body receiving the pleasure he was giving you. 
“O-oh my god,” he whined leaning back in, this time more aggressively, moving his head up and down and lapping and sucking brutally.
“F-fuck,” you moaned, trying to close your legs around Mark’s head, who didn’t seem to care at all. He hummed and slid his hands up your thighs to your ass, grabbing your buttcheeks and pushing you against him harder, which made you tremble and throw your head back. “Mark, oh god, M-mark I’m-...I’m gonna-”
Mark knew. He felt how close you had been to coming so many times in the last half an hour. He himself was close too, so he used one of his hands to stroke himself in sync with his tongue, bringing both of you to such a powerful orgasm you couldn’t even moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body tensed. Your legs fell off Mark’s shoulders as he continued licking you obsessively. 
“Mark,” you moaned, trying to push his head away weakly. “I’m s-sensitive, Mark.”
Again, he knew. He was trembling himself at the overstimulation, but he didn’t want it to end. “Please,” he whined when you managed to put some distance between you. “Just a little bit more, please,” he begged desperately tugging at your panties which ended up tearing apart in his hands. You gasped and he looked at the ruined material he was holding in his hands. He seemed as confused as you were. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he muttered. You remembered how he had told you that he was stronger than he looked, how he had broken one of your best selling toys and now he had destroyed a pair of panties without even trying. Fuck, the things he could do to you. 
You loved it.
You loved him.
Wait, what? You knew your crush on him was weird, because of how your body reacted to your first encounter, how your mind would go to him 24/7 and how you really wanted him to…bite you?? You looked at him, on his knees, staring back at you cautiously; almost like he could tell what you were thinking, like he felt what you felt not only physically…but emotionally. The potion had worked so well, you could feel everything the other felt. The lust, love, possessiveness, the need he had to mate you, you felt it all. 
He had imprinted on you.
“Y/N…” he could sense it; you were terrified. He reached for your hand, but you quickly stood up, pulling your shirt down and walking away from him with wobbly legs, ignoring your ripped panties sliding down your legs. “Y/N, come on…” he called, standing up and going after you, stopping when you turned back to him, offering him an envelope with his payment. 
“Thank you for your help,” you said robotically, looking at the door instead of him, indicating it was his time to leave. 
Mark glared darkly at the damn envelope in your hands. There you went again, being intimate with him, making him feel like his heart could burst out of happiness and then throwing cash at him like he was a hooker. Why did you have to make it feel so dirty? He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to let you go, but maybe he shouldn’t push it too hard. Maybe you needed some space and you could talk later.
“Keep the money,” he sighed, walking uncomfortably towards the door due to the stickiness in his pants. “See you.”
“You won’t,” you spitted, flinching when he turned around quickly and glared at you. “We w-won’t be calling you for future testing.”
Mark tightened his jaw and stared at you for what felt like an entire minute before he decided he was done being the nice guy. Fuck it. If this was the last time he would see you, he wanted to at least know what your fucking problem was. 
“Why not?” he asked, walking towards you and feeling the anxiety build up in your body while you took some steps back. “Didn’t I satisfy you?”
You looked away. You knew it wasn’t fair to treat him like he was part of a transaction, but you didn’t think you were ready for what a wolf imprinted on you meant.
“We came at the same time, didn’t we? We felt everything the other person felt-we still do,” he continued, chuckling when he felt the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Didn’t I prove my worth as a test subject? Aren’t I the perfect little toy you wanted?”
His words were playful, but you felt the pain and anger behind them.
“You’re not a toy,” you said as firmly as you could.
“Then don’t treat me like one,” Mark growled. 
“When did I ever-”
“You keep shoving money into my pocket and kicking me out as soon as you’re done with me-”
“That was the deal!” you yelled exasperatedly.
“Screw the deal!” he raised his voice too. “ I can literally feel how much you want me. How much you want me to stay. So why are you making me leave? How long are you going to play with my feelings?” he paused, taking a deep breath in and trying to tune into your emotions, trying his best to understand you. “Are you-...afraid of me?” The way your level of anxiety skyrocketed gave him the answer he needed. “Why? B-because I’m a werewolf? Because of my strength?” he asked sadly.
“No, that’s…that’s not a problem for me,” you admitted shyly. Not wanting to say you were into that.
“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked.
“You imprinted on me,” you confronted him.
“...Yes,” he calmly confessed.
“These…feelings,” you tried to explain, pointing at your body vaguely. “All these things you’re feeling right now, and that now I can feel too… do you- do you feel them all the t-time?”
“Yeah, especially when I think about you,” he sighed. “...which is pretty much all the time.”
“H-how-” you breathed with difficulty. “How do you c-control them? They are so…intense.”
“I don’t,” Mark simply said. “I tried to tone them down at first, but I just made it harder for myself. I accept them and let them control me once in a while.”
“L-let them control you?!” you repeated incredulously. 
“Ah, so this is what this is about,” Mark threw his head back and let out a breathy laugh. “You have control issues.”
 You scoffed, walking angrily towards the kitchen. Not that you had anything to do there, you just wanted to get away.
“Am I wrong?” he challenged, chasing after you. “You’re annoyed because you can’t control the way you feel for me,” he cornered you against the kitchen counter, making you face his red eyes. “And you can’t control me.”
 You visibly shivered at that. “Mark…” 
“I came here because I wanted you. I ate you out because I’ve wanted to taste you since I first saw you. I love feeling this way about you and I have no intention of controlling it,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you, leaving almost no space between you.
 You breathed heavily. His feelings were too intense for your body to take. “Then who’s g-going to be in control?” you asked nervously.
He chuckled. “None of us,” he replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just let go,” he purred against your lips. “Allow yourself to feel it. Feel me.”
So you did. You crashed your lips against his and brought his body into yours desperately, tugging at his hair and moaning wantonly. He cursed under his breath and shoved his tongue into your mouth, tasting every bit of you he could. You pulled away to breath, which was still hard with how tense you were. “Relax,” Mark murmured, kissing down your neck and nipping at your collarbones. “Feel everything. I got you, pretty girl.”
 You inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling all tension leave your body while Mark’s mouth and hands worshiped your body. A warm sensation filled you and a shiver ran down your spine when you allowed yourself to lose control. “F-fuck, oh my god, Mark-” you moaned out loud when he took your shirt off and attached himself to your tits, licking them obscenely. There was nothing soft and gentle about the way you both were behaving, with your fingers pulling his hair and him humping you desperately, like you both couldn’t wait any longer. The fact that you could feel anything the other could, made it a thousand times more intense. 
“F-fuck I’m gonna cum like this,” Mark whined, rutting his clothed cock against your bare pussy faster, burying his head between your breasts and holding your body tightly against his. The constant friction on your clit had you gasping for air and you soon felt yourself cumming, staining his pants and shaking at the second orgasm you two had shared that night. 
Before you had any time to recover, Mark lifted you off the ground and sat you on the kitchen counter, taking his shirt off and stepping out of his pants and boxers carelessly. He positioned himself between your legs and pressed his naked body against yours, bringing your lips to his for another passionate kiss, and allowing his hands to touch every corner of you. 
Unconsciously you found yourself pressing your hips into his, moaning at the wet sounds that could be heard whenever his cock moved against your wet pussy. He was panting heavily into the messy kiss, physically shaking because of how much he wanted to be inside of you.
“Put it in, god, please, put it in,” you begged him.
“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, giving you one last kiss before lining up his cock with your entrance and wincing when he could barely slide the tip in. “Y/N, y-you can’t take it-”
“I can, please-please Mark I...,” you slurred your words, grabbing his hips and trying to force him deeper into you. “I c-can.”
“You’re in pain, Y/N,” Mark hissed. The effects of the potion had faded away, but he wasn’t an idiot. He only needed to look at his size and then at yours.
“But, Mark,” you whined, kissing a spot on his neck that had him moaning out loud. “I really want it.”
He took a moment to think.He wanted it too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. 
“J-just go slowly, hmm?” you suggested as an alternative to stopping completely. 
Mark nodded. Slow, yeah. He could do that. “D-don’t move,” he warned you, sliding just a tiny bit more of his huge dick into your tight wet hole and groaning when your walls contracted around him. Okay, maybe he couldn’t do it. “Y/N, don’t do that…”
 He looked up to your face and saw that it was pointless to give you any orders right now. Your unfocused eyes and the way you bit your lip created an erotic sight that he would never be able to forget. “Fuck, Y/N” he pushed into you some more while looking at your blissful face and laughed in disbelief. “You’re fucking loving this, aren’t you?” he asked. When you only nodded dumbly, he inhaled sharply and kissed you hungrily, snapping his hips into yours harshly and holding your spasming body against his.
“Shit, d-did you just come?!” Mark asked incredulously, delivering kisses on the corner of your lips and all over your face while you sobbed. “You’re f-fucking insane, did you k-know that?” he spoke as he started fucking you fast and rough from the get go. “So pretty and s-sensitive, just for me.”
“S-so big,” you cried out.
“Yeah?” he cooed, changing the way he was fucking you to slow but deep. “Too big for my pretty girl?” god, he just loved how your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands reached blindly for something to hold onto, dropping a few kitchen supplies into the floor. “But you said you c-could take it, didn’t you?” he asked, thrusting into you particularly hard and making you scream.
“I gah-I c-can, I can,” you insisted, tears running down your face, which Mark quickly wiped off before he kissed you. “F-uh, faster-” you whined in between kisses.
“Faster?” Mark’s crimson eyes gleamed mischievously, and his hips snapped into yours fast twice, teasing you. “Is this no good?” he asked, resuming his slow pace at sliding in and out of you. You shook your head and tried to bring him closer with your legs around his waist. “Don’t you want to feel every.inch.of.me?” he hissed, accentuated each of the last words with sharp thrusts into your pussy.
You murmured something that Mark couldn’t quite understand, so he stopped his movements to let you catch your breath. “What was that?” he asked you, caressing your cheek. “Tell me, pretty girl.”
“B-bite me…” you croaked weakly.
 Mark’s cock twitched inside of you and it took all of his self control not to come right in that moment. 
“Don’t play with me, Y/N…” he warned you.
You shook your head, moving your hips against his and pulling his hair to bring him dangerously close to your neck. He gasped, salivating at the chance he was being given.
“Bite me, Mark…” you repeated and shuddered when he snarled against your skin and sank his teeth into your neck. You mewled and threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders. “O-oh god, Mark, M-mark fuck-ah!” 
 Without detaching his mouth from your neck, Mark went back to fucking you, this time fast and animalistically like you had asked him to, the pace so fierce that your moans were coming out as staccatos. 
“Uh-uh-aah-ah fuck-fuck, Ma-ark!” you sobbed, sure he was gonna break you, but loving every second of it. 
Mark could not stop as his cock started growing inside of you. “Y/N, Y/N shiiit gonna-...gonna k-knot you fuh- fuck, s-so pretty,” he panted against your neck, giving it gentle kisses as an apology for what he was about to do. “Oh, fuck- ooooh yeah, y-yeah-” he gasped and plunged into you viciously fast, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head and drooling all over your neck  as his abdomen contracted and spurts of cum spilled into you, knot securing it all inside your tight pussy. “Y/N-...Y/N, fuck,” he groaned as you scratched his back, leaving angry red marks all over him.
“Holy shit,” he breathed out once his fluttering heart calmed down enough for him to speak. “My pretty girl,” he purred, pecking your neck and then looking for your lips to kiss you lovingly. “All mine.”
“Yours,” you murmured against his lips, allowing him to kiss you again and again. "And you're mine."
“Does that mean you won’t try your potions on other men?” he asked you, half joking, half serious. 
“Why would I need to? You’re my perfect little toy, after all,” you teased him back, making him groan at the way you used his own words against him. “I’m joking.You’re not a toy,” you clarified, kissing him sweetly and looking into his eyes. “But you’re perfect.”
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ferrstappen · 1 year
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aren't we supposed to surprise you? l Charles Leclerc blurb
pairing: dad!Charles Leclerc x female reader.
you can find more of my version of dad Charles' here <3
summary: you somehow manage to overshadow Charles and Jo's gift.
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Charles was an anxious man. Even more so since Josephine was born two years ago.
Yes, people laughed at him but he didn't care, he was going to sprint towards his daughter every time she took a wrong step and fell down, or his system would shut down whenever her lower lip trembled. Charles could communicate with his daughter through her eyes, they told him everything he needed to know in the meantime before she learned how to properly express herself.
They were an unstoppable duo, everybody knew that, but Charles was aware the reason both him and Jo could feel at ease and safe was you, and maybe he didn't remind you enough of that.
His mother and younger brother accompanied him to the various shops around Monaco, Pascale having to fight Charles to let her carry the stroll on the street, Arthur shaking his head at Charles' antics, playfully pitying his niece.
"I am going to make sure to take her to the worst tattoo parlors and pubs when she's older and then I'm showing you the images so you can die of a heart attack," Arthur teased his brother, earning a glare from Charles while being chastised by his mother, but the youngest Leclerc saw a smile on his mom's face.
Arthur winked at his niece and she giggled. Lorenzo had no chance of ever being the favorite uncle.
They entered different shops, not wanting to go for the typical jewelry and overly expensive designer clothing and accessories. No, Charles wanted to give you something you'd truly appreciate, something for you to relax and show yourself some love and distraction. Now it was turn for Arthur to carry Josephine while teasing his brother for being a simp.
A couple of books he thought you'd enjoy, different colored bath bombs, luxurious soaps and candles were some of the goods you were going to receive for Mother's Day.
Dad and baby Leclerc arrived got home greeted by the smell of coffee and some kind of pastry. It smelled like Charles' dream life; his life.
You smiled at Charles and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking Josephine from his arms, your daughter babbling about papa and maman.
It was past midnight, Josephine sound asleep on her room after both you and Charles read her a short book in Italian, trying to accustom her to the language, all while you marveled at how Charles did the different voices and intonations.
Now it was just you and him in bed, his naked chest against your own skin, while his familiar hand found its place on your thigh, drawing shapeless figures, enjoying the peace of having you with him.
"I have to tell you something," You made sure to not make eye contact with Charles, hiding your face against his neck.
Charles chuckled with your reaction, "What is it and why are you hiding, bebé?" He tried to get you to face him.
"I know this wasn't planned or anything," you began talking but know Charles felt tears on his chest, it got him worried and helped you sit on the bed while assuring you whatever it was, you'd be able to find a solution.
"Babe, I'm two months pregnant," you announced and Charles placed his hand on his mouth in astonishment.
"No, in Bahrein?" Charles blurted out and a smile appeared on your face, of course that would be his first reaction as his brain processed the news.
You didn't know what you were expecting, maybe it was a problem because Josephine was still too young, maybe Charles didn't want another baby, you never really discussed it after Jo was born, but even in the dark his glossy green eyes were shining as his hand found its known place on your neck, his thumb softly caressing your cheek before lovingly kissing you.
those one of a kind kisses, the ones that were special and held so many emotions. neither of you could hide the smile appearing, only smiling at each other, Charles still caressing your cheek.
but suddenly he dropped his hand to your thigh, an unreadable expression on his face.
"But it's mother day and you're surprising me? No, I have this whole thing planned!" Charles protested and this made your eyes tear up, now it was your time to find his lips.
God, maybe it was time for a boy to mimic his dad.
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Sunscreen & Statistics (S.R.)
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Summary: Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and washing it off after).  Request: Spencer lecturing Reader on the statistics of wearing sunscreen, but his mind going blank when reader needs him to help put it on. A/N: This is my (first) entry to my Summer Sunshine Challenge! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Spencer POV, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, heavy petting, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex, coworker relationship, so many statistics (showers, skin cancer, sunscreen, sex), schizophrenia mention, Reader wears a bikini Word Count: 5.6k
MASTERLIST
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It was a beautiful day—the kind that artists had attempted to capture through many mediums. The summer sun was relentless, stretching its rays across every inch of the region. Even the shade hardly seemed spared, with bits of bright light slipping between green rustling leaves.
This seemingly idyllic set of circumstances offered the BAU a wonderful excuse to stay behind on the sunnier coast. Everyone was quick to buy new bathing suits and Rossi had already begrudgingly extended an invitation for everyone to stay at his favorite luxury hotel (on his dime, of course, or none of us would’ve made it).
The celebrations were already in full swing, and everyone was blissfully happy. It was, after all, the perfect day to hang out by the pool. So, they did. Each and every one…
Except for me. I stayed inside.
I wasn’t trying to ruin the fun. I had my reasons. Some were more reasonable than others.
Others were scary and slightly embarrassing. They wore a smile so bright it would rival the sun and managed to make me turn red even quicker than the star could. The kind of reason that turned me to nothing but a blubbering mess of a man.
I should’ve known better than to try to avoid her, though. Because that reason, that very important and tempting enchantress of a reason, always seemed to find me at the most inopportune time.
“Are you still hiding in here?”
I nearly jumped through my skin at the sound.
“No!”
I turned to find her staring back with an entertained, albeit disbelieving stare.
“Sort of. Maybe,” I felt compelled to continue.
When she still didn’t believe me—for obvious reasons—I finally conceded, “Yes.”
To my joy and eternal shame, she laughed like it had been an intentional joke.
“Well, I got banished back inside because I forgot sunscreen, so I’m trying to figure out where JJ left her bag,” she sighed.
Thankfully, that had been something I could help with. Despite everyone’s enthusiasm when they’d tossed the bags into the center of the suite lobby, I had managed to determine who owned which brightly colored pattern.
From my seat in the center, I reached over to pull JJ’s bag from the fray.
As soon as (y/n) spotted the motion, she was quick to exclaim, “My hero!”
Immediately, I felt the blood rush to my face.
I suppose there were worse places it could have gone.
“How did you forget sunscreen?” I asked.
“I hate the way it feels, so I almost never wear it unless forced,” she shrugged. Then, she turned to me, pointing the bottle like a weapon as she explained, “Plus, it always feels like they’re trying to trick me with all the numbers. I don’t know what SPF is. They could just be lying to me.”
“Well, the good news is that even a weak sunscreen is helpful,” I tried to reassure her. “Regular daily use of at least 15 SPF can reduce your risk of squamous cell carcinoma and melanoma by up to 50%.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. I can tell you more about this product specifically, if you want.”
When I held out my hand, she was quick to hand me the bottle. I was, in turn, very happy to have an excuse to look at something other than her before all the blood left my brain.
“Okay, so, this one is an interesting formula. It offers a decent coverage and—,” I started, but my voice died just as soon as I looked up.
Because there she was, pulling her top over her head to reveal the barely-there bikini beneath it.
I knew I only had a few seconds to shamelessly ogle her before she would find out, and I greedily accepted the sight of soft curves that all consisted of and led to her.
My eyes traversed her body the way I wished my hands could until I was left practically trembling.
The blood wasn’t in my face anymore. It wasn’t even anywhere near my brain. To the point I’d barely even noticed she’d already taken her pants off until her voice snapped me back to reality.
“And what?” she said.
“What?”
“… You stopped talking.”
“I did?”
She reached forward and grabbed the bottle from my hand. If she’d noticed the way I had been looking at her, she didn’t say anything about it. She just sort of… smiled.
“Are you alright, Doctor?” she asked.
“Yes,” I lied.
I might’ve been able to answer honestly if it hadn’t been for the way she dumped the contents of the bottle into her hand and began lathering it over her legs.
“A-Anyways,” I tried to continue. With a wavering voice and wandering eyes, I rambled, “to maximize protection you should really use about an ounce of sunscreen with an SPF of 30. Anything over 30 is, well, like you suggested, sort of a scam.”
All the while, there she was, smoothing over slick skin that smelled like summer.
“An ounce, huh?” she hummed as her hands traveled between pillowy thighs to coat skin the sun could rarely reach. “Feels like you could make it a drinking game with enough motivation.”
“Drinking alcohol actually dramatically increases your risk of sunburn, so you should definitely wear more sunscreen if you’re drinking,” I muttered absently while my eyes stayed firmly fixed between her thighs long after her hands had abandoned the area.
“Noted,” she said, the end of the word tinged with a little bit of amusement.
I looked up at her to try to understand what had excited her, or perhaps annoyed her.
Or at least, I tried to look at her face. My eyes made a few involuntarily stops along the way. Once they settled safely back on her smile, however, she was quick to get my blood pumping in a different way.
“So, will you help me?” she asked.
“With what?”
She scoffed, then laughed.
“… the sunscreen? Duh.”
Despite my best efforts to make any sense of the request, I was, once again, a hopeless, lovesick idiot.
“W-What?” I babbled, “You… You want me to put it on? You?”
“I can ask JJ if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“No!” I blurted out with both hands raised in opposition or surrender.
Didn’t seem to matter which.
I tried to explain it away, but my attempts to bolster my good character seemed even less convincing than the sudden outburst.
“N-No, no it’s fine. I-It’s… why would that make me… uncomfortable? I’m fine. I can do it.”
“Wow. Convincing,” she teased.
And that is what it was. There was no anger in her tone; not even a hint of resentment. She laughed, and I did, too.
“Okay, I admit that wasn’t very convincing. But seriously, I can do it. Promise.”
She spoke through her teeth when she muttered, “Whatever you say.”
When she tossed me the bottle back, we were both surprised to find that I’d caught it.
My hands, still shaky, were quick to close the gap between our bodies. The sunscreen felt nearly frigid compared to our skin, but she didn’t seem to mind.
In fact, she rewarded the sensation with a dreamy sigh and a slight arching of her back.
That motion, however small, felt like fire to an already ruined man. I tried to stay focused on more innocent areas. I worked my hands over knotted muscles in her shoulder and tried to free her of those burdens, too. With each swipe of my thumbs, she would let out the most delicious rumble that made me want to do it again.
Each time that I pulled away to add more, I came back a few inches lower until my fingers nearly slipped beneath the top of her bikini bottoms.
At that moment, with her arched lower back pressed against my palms and my fingers brushing against the little fabric between us, she shivered. Silently, I watched as the goosebumps covered her skin like a sheet.
Reaching forward to grab hold of the couch in front of her, she arched her back once more. The movement seemed intentional, closing a couple inches of the distance between us until there was almost nothing.
With more speed than I’d intended, I stepped back and nearly fell.
“O-Okay, I-I think that’s it!” I said with a squeak.
To my dismay, she stayed exactly where she was for a long moment. In fact, she deepened the stretch and fell forward with a sigh before she whined, “Shame.”
I tried to calm my fast beating heart while simultaneously trying to run from the thoughts that continued to chase me the longer she stayed bent over. My hands were still buzzing from the contact, and I felt almost lightheaded from the strength of the unrelenting erection still struggling against compression shorts underneath my pants.
(I had been right that I would need them if she was going to be there.)
And there she was, finally standing and stretching her arms over her head. They dropped back down and I couldn’t stop myself from admiring the effect of physics on her chest.
“It felt nice to be touched like that,” she sighed.
I couldn’t respond to that without making a complete fool of myself, so I tried to distance myself from the moment, instead.
“You’re actually supposed to wait 30 minutes after application to go into the sun, but, y-you can probably just sit in the shade and wait.”
“Did you already apply yours?”
“I’m not taking off my clothes so I could do it myself,” I explained.
I should’ve known better than to doubt her ability to get whatever she wanted—which, at the moment seemed to be my catastrophic defeat.
“Well, that’s not fair,” she whined, “I want to return the favor!”
“I-I mean… I’ll probably have to reapply it to my face soon, but I doubt you want to—.”
“Awe! Fun!” she cried before I could finish the thought, “Gimme!”
“Oh… um, okay.”
I handed her the bottle and whatever I still had of my heart. With expert fingers, she spread the chilly contents over my cheeks. We were both smiling, the expressions growing wider and more genuine as she started to play with pliable skin.
I involuntarily joined in on her laughter. Her hands and eyes were so warm, I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle in her palms.
The moment ended far too quickly. I missed her immediately, but she made sure that my smile didn’t fade.
“There. You’re only sort of pasty now,” she sighed contentedly before adding, “Mostly red, actually.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” I grumbled back. The sarcastic tilt to the sound wasn’t lost on her.
I realized in that awkward, somehow lonely quiet that I loved her more than I’d thought.
I almost wanted to tell her. I’d even opened my mouth, ready to spill the contents of my soul and hope for the best.
I never got a chance, though. Because before I’d uttered a single syllable, she jumped with her own realization.
“Oh, I forgot the most important part!”
“What?”
She turned away from me and dove her attention into the pile of bags without further explanation. I watched as she dug through clothing and whatever else she’d stuffed into her tote until she stood triumphantly with a closed fist.
“What?” I asked again.
She held up a single finger in reply.
I followed her instruction, waiting patiently as I watched her uncap a small tube of chapstick and use it to thoroughly coat her lips. Once again, I was left to shamelessly stare at a beautiful woman as she dutifully cared for herself in a way I’d wished I could.
Swallowing the lump in my throat that carried heartfelt confessions, I spoke again.
“What am I waiting for, exactly?” I teased.
Her eyes narrowed with what seemed to be a playful warning.
“Sunscreen application,” she explained flatly, “Duh.”
I paused. My head cocked to the side and my face twisted as I struggled to find any explanation for why she’d needed me for this part.
“Wha—?”
Then, just when I’d started to speak, it hit me all at once.
And by that, I mean she kissed me.
With both hands cupping already-reddened cheeks, she pulled me forward until I could taste flavored lip balm and her.
Her lips opened, sliding against mine with an undeniable affection that made my whole body tense. I tried to hold her, but it all happened so quickly that by the time I raised my hands to her arms, she was almost gone.
“There!” she said happily, “Now we’re ready.”
For what? I wanted to ask.
But before I could make myself speak, she was already gone.
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I spent the next several hours outside.
The rest of the team seemed both surprised and not surprised about my decision to join them. After all, everyone knew I didn’t particularly enjoy pools or any body of water, and, despite my Vegas origins, the sun and I didn’t quite get along.
But they also knew I liked her.
It had never been more obvious than it was that day, when I emerged from the safety of darkness with freshly kissed lips and an expression filled with utter confusion.
(Y/n) was quick to greet me in her usual manner. She said nothing about the kiss.
Part of me had even started to wonder if I’d hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe the doctors had all been wrong, and I was already waist-deep in psychosis that manifested purely through happy memories of her.
It would be an odd presentation, sure, but at the time it somehow felt more likely than her returning my affections. But as soon as I started to convince myself, she would flash me a glance that set my already overheated body on fire. Even as she peered up at me from the edge, I could still see her smile under the water.
She wore that same look in her eye she always did when we were alone. It was a slightly unnerving but mostly flattering feeling. It felt like being wanted by a beautiful woman.
I’m definitely losing it.
That was the only reasonable conclusion to reach. Because when she emerged from the pool, I could’ve sworn she paused before to make sure I was watching.
Of course, I was watching. I made sure that my flawless memory captured damn near every droplet as it caressed her curves. I stared, practically worshipped the sight of her lips parted with a relieved exhale that I could see leave her chest.
The blood was gone again. I was doomed.
“You’re still hiding, huh?”
I was too afraid to answer until she took the seat closest to me.
“No, not hiding, just… staying safe,” I explained through my typical awkward smile.
I pointed up to the umbrella above me, but she didn’t look. Her eyes stayed glued to me.
“It’s probably time for me to reapply, huh?” she laughed.
I liked the way it sounded, so, I laughed, too.
“Yeah, to be honest, you really should’ve done it a couple hours ago, but I didn’t want you to think I was… a wet blanket or a pervert.”
She snorted at the suggestion. Her eyes squinted, playful as always and carrying some meaning that evaded me.
“It’s very interesting that those were the two options that came to your mind,” she said.
I panicked.
“I don’t know, it’s weird, isn’t it? Me insisting you should let me touch you?” I rushed, “I’m not crazy, right? It’s… weird! It’s…!”
She sighed.
At first, I mistook the sound for annoyance. But when I looked into her eyes, I knew that wasn’t right.
Because she looked… like she had been caught in a dream. A melancholy fantasy of something she felt was just beyond her reach.
She was looking at me, I realized, exactly the same way I looked at her.
 “You’re not crazy, Spencer,” she said with a smile, “Just a little oblivious.”
My lips twitched as I fought a smirk that came through, anyway.
“I can accept that.”
She seemed pleased, as if I’d given the right answer.
“Well, the good news is I’m done with the sun for the day,” she announced.
Her eyes finally left me as she once again stretched her arms over her head and left me to ogle her like an idiot. Then, when I was thoroughly distracted, she glanced around like she was checking to see if anyone could hear her.
“They don’t seem to be calming down, so…” she said, much quieter now, “any statistics on what I should do with sunscreen when I’m finished with it?”
“No statistics, per se, but you definitely should wash it off. It can be pretty irritating for skin,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Not to mention the salts and chemicals from the pool.”
“I see,” she laughed.
Then, when she realized that I was, in fact, a hopeless, perverted fool with no blood in his brain, she made her intentions much clearer.
“Will you help me with that?”
Not clear enough for me, though.
“What?” I asked.
“With the sunscreen,” she answered simply.
“Uh—.”
Even that eloquent thought couldn’t make it through a parched, tightening throat. With each passing second and every syllable uttered, my voice got higher and even more unstable.
“I’m sorry, are you—what—w-what are you asking me?”
That’s when she took my hand, bursting with laughter as she dragged me from me seat with the most terrifying, alluring, and magical answer.
“Come on, pretty boy.”
I followed her without question but many concerns—the largest of which was the fear that she was actually leading me to my demise by humiliation.
Those worries grew tenfold when she yanked me over the threshold into her private room.
I stumbled forward and practically fell into her arms. But she was waiting for me, seemingly anticipating the clumsiness. Her hands were still soft, still soothing on boiling skin as she guided my lips to hers for the second time that day.
That time, I was prepared.
My hands covered her sun-kissed cheeks and pulled her even closer than she’d done to me before.
She tasted like salt and sugar from summer fresh fruit. I gave her every breath that I had, panting hopelessly against her lips each time that we broke apart.
Her hands were gentle when they found mine. I was reluctant to leave her until I realized that she was simply repositioning them to less innocent areas.
Still, I hesitated to go any further. I let my hands rest softly against her hips while I struggled to express my relief.
“Thank god,” I laughed, “I was sort of worried you were going to beat me up for staring at you all day.”
Her eyes locked onto mine with a hunger that seemed almost insatiable.
“No, I like it when you look at me like that,” she stated so simply it hurt. “In fact, I think I want to thank you.”
Before I could ask her how she intended to that, she made her intentions very clear by grabbing my dick through the fabric of my pants.
“So, tell me… any statistics on why we shouldn’t have sex in the shower?” she asked.
I don’t know how she’d expected me to think clearly. It actually seemed like she was purposefully trying to make it harder for me to form any words at all.
“It’s actually—,” I started just to stop when she started stroking the full length of me with devilish fingers.
“It’s actually really dangerous to try to have sex in the shower,” I tried again.
That time, she began applying a cascading pressure through playful fingertips. I spoke faster, trying to finish any thought before I truly lost my mind.
“There is a—fuck—a 44% chance of injury,” I forced out.
Her hand stopped. She cocked her head to the side with a brilliant smile and asked, “Is that right?”
I was almost relieved. Almost.
“Yeah, and…”
Then she started taking off my pants.
“A-and it can be quite uncomfortable for a woman without additional lubrication,” I said while shaking my head.
Even my subconscious knew I was speaking against my own self-interest, that I could’ve just accepted her question as rhetorical. I could’ve just shut up and go along with whatever she wanted because I would always be happy so long as she was happy.
She dropped down as she pulled my pants to the ground and revealed a second set of bottoms. I couldn’t be sure of it, but she seemed vindicated when she realized how hard my body was struggling against the compression shorts.
“The movies make it look so fun, don’t they?” she hummed as she stood back up. “I guess it is pretty dangerous. And inconvenient.”
“Yeah, but also, I sort of wish I hadn’t said any of that,” I responded immediately, “Let’s do it anyway.”
Thankfully, she found my eagerness charming and not pathetic (or perhaps those were the same to her). Her fingers sneaked past the band of the compression shorts, but she didn’t make the move to remove them yet.
Instead, she used her free hand to lead mine straight to the knot holding her bikini bottoms together.
My fingers twitched. She leaned closer, her cheek pressed against mine and her breath hot on my ear as she said the most beautiful words.
“We can shower after, then.”
“Thank you god,” I cried.
Practiced fingers untangled the knots within seconds, and I fought the urge to stare at her newly exposed skin by kissing her instead.
Her skin, still wet, was chilled enough from the cooler air that she barely reacted when I backed her against the ceramic countertop in the bathroom.
She leaned back, groaning with relief when I finally undid the knots of her top.
Again, I shamelessly admired the wonderful world of physics as it was displayed before me. With each breath, her chest lifted and came closer to my own.
Seemingly sharing the same thoughts, she reached forward and practically tugged my shirt off of me.
As soon as I could, I held her naked body as close to me as I could. My hands covered her lower back and drifted further down her hips, seeking every inch of cold skin that remained.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I whispered. I couldn’t see most of her, but the memory from mere seconds ago was as vivid as it would ever be. “Words don’t exist that would ever do it justice.”
She pulled back, still toying with the tops of my shorts with that insatiable look in her eyes.
“I’d say take a picture, but I think your memory might rival a camera,” she giggled.
“I’ll never forget this,” I promised her, “I’ll never forget you.”
But there were so many other ways I’d yet to see her. So, after carefully loving each inch of her hips, I turned my attention to the burning heat between her thighs. 
At the same time my finger slid through slick folds, my lips found hers once more.
“I wanna make you feel good,” I slurred.
Her lips parted in a broken gasp as I tried to do just that. I inched eager fingers between tight muscles and didn’t even bother fighting the urge to moan into her mouth.
She swallowed that desire and returned her own with a growing enthusiasm. My fingers grew faster, sloppier in their gentle beckoning for her to fall apart.
“That’s it. Good girl,” I reassured her when her breathy moans became pitchy. “Oh, you deserve to feel so good, sweetheart.”
That spark in her eyes had turned into a wildfire further stoked by my praise. I leaned into it; I became more confident in my loving her. Her walls were tense and insistent, seeking something more than what my hand could give them.
I withdrew them despite her immediate protests. She recanted any complaint as soon as I moved drenched fingers to the small pearl at her center.
Her moans became shameless, and I accepted them as an imminent victory. She rocked her hips against my hand, riding it to find her elusive end.
All the while, her eyes were locked onto mine. She refused to look away, forced us both to acknowledge that I was the one who brought her here. To the edge of the abyss, to the ultimate euphoria.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” I said through a smirk, “Come for me.”
She followed the direction with the utmost enthusiasm. She fell forward, favoring me to the cold countertop. I caught her but continued my relentless efforts to please her.
I kept going, kept cherishing her until she whimpered from my touch. Then I held her. I pet her damp hair and laid a gentle kiss atop the crown of her head.
“Good girl,” I assured her.
But I wasn’t finished yet.
“Now turn around.”
She perked up the second she’d heard the order. Although she’d barely caught her breath, she turned on shaky legs without question.
My hands found her hips just like they had before. Except this time, there were no bikini bottoms. There was only pillowy flesh and the strong muscles of her backside pressed firmly against my dick.
Barely moving away from her, I finally freed myself from the confines of compression shorts. I groaned with relief and noticed how the sound made her back arch further.
When I lined myself up at her entrance, she rewarded the action with a dreamy sigh.
It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to see the look on her face, to hear the desperation in her voice before I gave her what I’d fantasized of from the moment I met her.
My hand knotted in her hair. I pulled her back from her comfortable position braced against the countertop. I held her up so that I could whisper in her ear the same as she’d done to me earlier.
“This is what you wanted, right?” I asked, as if her whimpers hadn’t been answer enough.
“Yes,” she moaned, “please.”
The sound of debauchery on her tongue sent shockwaves through me. My cock twitched involuntarily, bumping against satin skin now dripping with desire.
I barely resisted the urge to slam into her with full force. Instead, I stayed there, with just the tip of me inside of her as I groaned.
“Oh, I’d give you the whole world if you asked me like that.”
“This’ll do for now,” she giggled.
Her hips began to sway as she rocked on her toes. She chased even just a half inch more of me and rewarded me with beautiful sounds when I finally started to sink into her.
“That’s it…” I sighed.
Her confidence was quickly shaken, though, as my pursuit continued. Not even half of my dick was inside her when I felt her start to tremble.
“You can take it,” I assured her.
She responded by tightening her muscles even further, resisting the gentle stretch of her body as it accommodated my own.
“That’s my girl,” I groaned. The blinding heat of her demanded my full attention to the point that I was barely coherent as I slurred, “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”
But all it took was one word to unravel my best efforts.
“Spencer,” she whimpered.
Any hesitance I had vanished without a trace. I thrust my hips forward to the hilt with so much force that she scrambled to stay on her feet. Manicured nails struggled to find a grip the ceramic before my next motion.
I took my time pulling back, and I watched her struggle with the fullness that was our bodies come together. I reveled in the sight of her heaving chest and clouded eyes.
That time, I didn’t fight the urge to slam into her. I even pulled her back as I did it, bringing our bodies together over and over again with a blissful type of violence.
With each thrust, I watched her reaction in the mirror. I made sure that my mind captured each second of her pleasure. Each time her jaw dropped open with whines and praise in the shape of my name.
“Please, Spencer,” she keened with a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter.
I hadn’t been sure what she was asking for, so I continued to love her the same as I always had.
But she only became more frustrated, sobbing with pleasure the next time my hips crashed into hers.
“Harder,” she cried out.
And I tried. I tried to follow her instruction, to grant her the release that could only be found in the fullest expression of years of repressed passion.
The problem wasn’t my unwillingness to give my everything to her. Rather, it was the siren’s call of resistant, relentlessly desperate muscles.
“You’re so fucking tight,” I ground through clenched jaw. 
Then, with a small and wavering voice, she insisted, “I can take it.”
Every atom of my being burned with a suffocating desire. It felt nearly feral; fully free to show her just how badly my body ached to be with her.
She began slamming back against me with a similar fervor and I almost made myself stop.
“Fuck, I’m so close, but I don’t want it to end,” I begged her.
But that beautiful, evasive, brilliant star of a woman just giggled. I could practically feel myself leaving bruises in the shape of my fingertips and she couldn’t have been happier.
Through the mirror, she looked at me and reminded me of the full, unrelenting power of the sun.
“Don’t worry,” she purred, “we can do it again later.”
That was all it took. With just a look, she practically brought me to my knees.
“Fuck!” I choked as I slammed into her with my full force. We both nearly collapsed against the counter, but I managed to pull her hips down harder against me just as I found my release.
The blissful heat of her grew to new heights as I filled her. Each wave of pleasure caused her to shiver with sheets of goosebumps.
I watched through half-lidded, lust-clouded vision as she accepted every inch and every drop of my desire with a euphoric smile.
“Sorry,” I said while trying to catch my breath. Even when I managed to capture some breath, it escaped me with a laugh as I explained, “I… I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“Don’t apologize,” she slurred.
I might’ve thought she was just being merciful if she hadn’t immediately followed, “That was fun.”
It was so obviously sincere, but I was so ridiculously stupid that I had to be sure, anyway.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she laughed.
The sound was even more beautiful when I could feel the vibrations from within. I groaned from the thought of how it might feel for her lips to be wrapped around my cock. It twitched inside her, and she responded with a small whimper.
My hips bucked one more time, forcing me to the hilt before I withdrew in one quick motion.
I stood there for a moment, holding her hips steady as I watched the evidence of what we’d just done drip down her thighs.
My stomach was filled with butterflies doing flips and there was no accounting for the blood that still hadn’t made its way back to my brain.
(Y/n) was patient as ever with a pitiful man.
“Come on, pretty boy,” she chuckled as she took my hand, “help me get clean.”
Despite my best efforts, there were significantly less attempts to get clean in the shower than I’d expected. It was only thanks to her self-preservation that we didn’t end up having sex in the shower, although we came pretty close.
I could never tire of kissing her, but I realized I could love her just as much with lather as I could with my lips. My worship shifted as I dutifully cared for her the way I’d always wished I could.
When it was over, I didn’t give up. I followed her into her bed and she made no attempt to stop me.
In fact, she moved closer to me until my arm could reach around her waist and her head rested on my chest.
“Any other statistics you want to share?” she mumbled, now sleepy from the sun and… other activities.
“Always,” I answered. “Like, did you know, I have now joined the 54% of people who have slept with a coworker?”
“Fascinating. Was it worth it?” she chuckled, having already known my answer.
“Yes,” I told her, anyway. But the way I always did when it came to sharing statistics, I couldn’t stop myself. “Although, there is a smaller subset of that group that’s even more interesting.”
She gasped, quickly pressing her fingers to my lips to stop me from ruining her moment.
“Let me guess—at least half of them fucked in the office,” she said.
And in that quiet, private moment, the only thing more beautiful than her hopeful smile was the fact she’d gotten it right.
“You are, without a doubt, the most attractive woman I’ve ever met in my life,” I confessed.
She gave her wholehearted admission that she felt the same in the best way she could.
With a cheeky smile and the utmost sincerity, she asked, “What are the odds of that?”
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(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
Looking for another mutual pining summer-themed fic? Check out my 11.2k oneshot Lost Time, where Reader and Spencer spend their mandatory leave taking the Spring Break Spencer never got to have. 
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Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug , @poo-tay-toot , @bookobsessedfreak
Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme , @pepperthealien
Thanks for reading!
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 11 months
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Our daddies uses to joke about the two of us | Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader
Summary: Your fathers' jokes turned to reality
Word count: 0.5k
I have not written for obx in a long time, but I was listening to Taylor Swift - as I very often do - and got this idea when hearing Mary's song
p.s. I'm back to writing for obx!! Sent requests!!
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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You were seven and Rafe was nine when you met him.
Unlike him, your family didn’t live on the island. You had a summer house. Every July, your parents would pack and drive to Kildare to spend summer there. It was nice being close to the beach, but you didn’t have many friends.
Your fathers were golf partners at the country club and decided your families would celebrate 4th of July together at the Cameron estate. The house was massive and they had a pool and a large backyard to run around.
Sarah was introduced to you first, but she liked the color pink and turtles and you preferred lime green and stingrays. Therefore she couldn’t be your friend. Rafe liked lime green, but not stingrays…and you could live with that.
That summer, Rafe became your entire world.
You would go to the Cameron house and play pirates or swim in their pool. Your swimming skills weren’t the best, but Rafe was a great swimmer and promised he would never let you drown. Rose would bring you iced tea and animal crackers, and Rafe always let you have the tiger shaped ones.
At the end of summer, the country club had a season closure event and the loud noises of the fireworks were scaring you. You wanted to go to your mom for comfort, but you couldn’t see her. Instead, Rafe took your hand in his and distracted you by telling you about the frog Sarah caught and brought inside the house and a screaming Rose.
A year later, pink had become your favorite color, but you still spent your summer with Rafe. He didn’t want to play pirates anymore, but it was okay. 
When you turned nine, you dared him to kiss you under the backyard tree and ran when he tried because kissing was yucky. 
The fifth summer, Rafe had grown a few inches and was now towering over you. He kept saying he would beat you up because he was bigger than you, but he never did. He would never physically hurt you.
The following year, two boys started coming over to Rafe’s house. Kelce and Topper. They were always talking about girls — more specifically the brunette lifeguard at the beach. It made you uncomfortable, so you painted your nails with Sarah. 
A few years went by and you turned sixteen. Suddenly you weren't that little girl Rafe used to see. Your body had gone through puberty in the past year and on pool afternoons, Rafe had to force himself to stop looking at the way you filled your bikini and focus on the beach ball Topper was throwing at his head. 
You fathers used to joke about the two of you growing up and falling in love, but the joke was no longer one when you got caught kissing at midsummer. Rafe had another girl for date, but it was you he wanted to hold hands and dance with in that way-too-warm-for-summer tux. 
Goodbyes were extra difficult when August came to an end.
The breeze of the beach at night blew as you rested your head on his shoulder. Your friends were closer to the fire, drinking beer and celebrating the last day of summer. 
‘’I don't want you to leave,’’ Rafe said, watching as the water washed over the sand and swished. 
‘’Me either.’’ Your heart was heavy, knowing when morning come you'll get on the ferry and head home. ‘’I love you to the moon and Saturn, Rafe Cameron.’’
OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker  @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage  @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc  @pedrosprincess  @mikaelsonsstuff  @skyesthebomb  @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom  @popeheywardssecretgf
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly
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mondothebombo · 6 months
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✨Small Canon Things in Ninjago That Aren’t Necessarily Important to the Plot, but Important to Me Pt 2✨
(in honor of the first post reaching 2.5k notes)
1. the reason the ninja can’t summon their elemental dragons anymore is bc they’re too traumatized
2. Kai takes laxatives
3. Lloyd felt responsible for Nya’s sacrifice
4. Morro took a shot while he was in Lloyd’s body
5. Cole’s favorite color is orange
6. Chamille, the master of form, is a “bad girl” post s4
7. the ninja were literal children when they waltzed into Chen’s tournament and proceeded to beat all the adult EMs in the competition
8. prior to seabound, Nya resented her parents for not being there in her childhood, her mother more so than her father (✨mommy issues✨)
9. Nya is hyper-independent as a result of her childhood; while Kai is more openly accepting to his parents because he has a better memory of them
10. Wu was close enough with Lilly that he could remember whether or not she wore a necklace
11. Cliff Gordon was a “womanizer”
12. Lloyd didn’t naturally hit puberty until s8
13. Cole and Jay are best friends
14. whether or not you see Pixane as a bf/gf situation in canon, they are canonically soulmates
15. Jay has not yet received his inheritance letter
16. at least up until the Merge, Zane’s statue is still in downtown Ninjago City
17. ninjago citizens are fully aware their only protection are six super-powered teens/young adults
18. the ninja are still famous, public figures
19. Jay is the only ninja who hasn’t died (yet)
20. despite being a terrible actor, Lloyd is always sent on the undercover missions
21. the ninja are on first name basis with each others parents
22. Cole’s favorite genre of music is soft rock
23. Zane has selective memory
24. after Nya’s sacrifice, each ninja depicted a different stage of grief (Zane-Denial, Kai-Anger, Lloyd-Depression, Jay-Bargaining, and Cole-Acceptance)
25. Cole never actually had feelings for Nya, he was just flattered by the attention and petty about Jay being mad at him
26. elements react based on the master’s emotions
27. Jay is so emotionally dependent on being around other people that he loses his mind when he’s alone for too long
28. Lloyd had a chat with god and wasn’t impressed
29. Cole’s snoring can be heard throughout the monastery
30. Nya is not a morning person
31. Kai and Skylor have been in a situationship since s4
32. Lloyd being the grandson of god is not common knowledge
33. the group of civilians that were on the bounty when Cole fell are probably the only ones who truly realize the danger the ninja put themselves in on the regular to protect the city, and how close they are with each other
34. Wu didn’t want to tell the ninja about the green ninja prophecy because he was afraid of having a repeat of Morro
35. since s8 at the very least, the ninja all shared a room on the bounty until the monastery was rebuilt
36. Jay’s confidence in his own abilities fully depends on what others believe he’s capable of
37. several villains have called the ninja out on being “just a bunch of kids,” and then proceeded to get their shit rocked by said kids
38. the overlord can gloat to Lloyd all he wants to in crystallized, but fact of the matter is Lloyd defeated him when he was like twelve
39. Kai and Nya raised and took care of each other, it wasn’t just Kai doing all of the work
40. Kai is two years older than Nya
41. Zane’s biggest fear is losing his humanity
42. Lloyd’s biggest fear is becoming his father
43. Nya’s biggest fear is losing her individuality
44. Cole’s biggest fear is letting his family down
45. we the audience are the only ones who see the characters as legos; they’re real people in-universe
46. Kai likes spicy food
47. while elemental masters are immune to their elements to some extent, their elements can also be shown to hurt them in some circumstances
and as always, feel free to add on!!
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scarletlizzard · 2 months
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Can't get emo!Wanda out of my head today.
How she would treat you so differently than everyone else, especially behind closed doors. She would laugh at all your ridiculous jokes and blush like crazy. She would love spending time with you in your room because it smells like you and it comforts her.
The two of you would stay up so late watching her favorite sitcoms over and over, just cuddling and holding hands. You love to play with the rings she wears on her fingers, and each day you would pick a different one to call your favorite.
When no one is around she teaches you to cook her favorite Sokovian dishes in the kitchen, telling you all the secrets in the recipes and blushing so hard when you tell her how amazing it tastes and that she's an amazing cook.
She would be the best listener ever. Wanda loves to just listen to your voice, obsessed with the sound of it. You think she's just watching you as you talk, until a week later she brings up a small detail from the conversation you had.
Wanda totally paints your nails for you.
You sit in your bed, back to the headboard. She sits in your lap, with her skirt bunched up on her thighs as her hand grabs yours. You watch her tongue sit between her teeth as she concentrates.
"Would you stop moving so much?" She jokes, and if you didn't know her so well, you wouldn't have understood what she said because around you she speaks so comfortably her accent flows, coming out thick.
"How am I supposed to sit still when the prettiest girl in the world is sitting in my lap?" You say with a serious expression. Wanda blushes, and you just might die because of it.
"Hold still," she says softer, with a laugh escaping her lips. Her green eyes flicking up to you for only a second. You don't miss the small smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth.
You're silent only for a moment as she dips the brush into the polish again.
"You're so cute when you blush," you chuckle and watch as her cheeks get darker. Her grip on your hand gets tighter as she puts on another coat of polish.
"You're so annoying," Wanda groans and rolls her eyes, but you can see the smile growing wider on her lips.
She would paint your nails whatever color you wanted, but would leave your ring finger empty. That fingernail she would paint the color she wore on her own nails. Wanda would paint hers the same way, making sure to match.
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irndad · 1 year
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double vision in a rose blush -s.r.
a/n: first fic in like a year and my first spencer fic! please let me know what you think!
summary: she is the best part of his days, his life, these days, really. the only problem is she never touches him. s/o to @bitesizedgremlin for writing the most adorable touch starved spence fic that got me 🥰
wc: 1.6k
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He loves looking at her. 
It feels hedonistic, like drinking a too-expensive wine. Looking at her brings a warmth that spreads all throughout him, like threaded gold embedded in her movements. It’s a lovely kind of ache, how she can bring the most open, the most raw parts of him to the surface. She is captivating, the way she laughs, the way she moves, the slightest intonation of affection she offers him in her tone. 
Tonight, she sits across from him at the team’s favorite bar. She’s wearing a deep emerald green top, the kind of thing that makes her look like something out of a dream. 
It’s not like it shows how much he likes her. He hopes it doesn’t. 
Sure, people tease them. She’s a consultant with their teams, one with a desk right next to his one. He initially thought he’d hate the company, but even on their first meeting, she was relentlessly kind. She had sat next to him, wearing a beautiful periwinkle sweater, and somehow he was talking for far too long about how the original blue pigments were sometimes made from toxic materials and how much modern effort it took to make a sweater that color.
He’d felt a familiar humiliation, the knowledge that a beautiful woman had sat down next to him and offered him kindness, and he’d met her with his own personal brand of anti-charisma.
But she hadn’t interrupted him. In fact, she granted him maybe the most welcoming, kind smile that he’s ever seen in his life.
And she’d asked more about the pigment. 
Spencer- he’d never known the kind of affection she offers so freely. It almost reminds him of Penelope- how open she is, how kind. Objectively, he knows she likes him at least a little bit. He’s a profiler, and he can tell at least that much. 
The hitch is, he’s the only one she doesn’t touch. 
Morgan gets shoulder brushes. Penelope hugs, and he even remembers her once giving Rossi a warm squeeze of her hand. But not him. Even now, she sits across from him after having held Morgan in a long hug of greeting. 
He looks up at her, her pretty fingers wrapped around the stem of a wine glass. She moves with such grace, no matter what the action. The way she tops her head back, how a lovely grin spreads across her face. He’d give anything not to be her exception. To be one of the people she touches. 
“What you thinking there, wonder kid?” She says, and somehow her voice carries across the crowded bar. He thinks he could pick her voice out anywhere.
“Nothing really,” he says back. He never likes the way his voice sounds around her. He wants to be confident, smooth, like Morgan. She leaves him too weak for it. “How are you feeling?”
“I am wondrous, Spencer.” She’s leaning into his space. Her tone is just a little shaky, influenced by the alcohol. He’s near enough to smell the lily-scented perfume she wears, and it’s everything in him not to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He’d gotten it for her for Christmas. 
He remembers her reaction to it, unwrapping the bow and wrapping he’d sent an hour trying to make perfect. It was one of the few times she touched him, however brief- a squeeze of his hand and that earnestly grateful look- the image kept him warm all year. She’d worn it to work more often than not. It brought him a shameful sense of satisfaction. 
She carries me with her. She has a piece of me with her wherever she goes. 
I want to be touched by you, he thinks, I want to be the one doing the touching. What is it about him? He knows his limbs are a little spindle-y, and he’s not exactly experienced in most forms of physical expression. But he could be, if he was given the chance. If it was with her. It’s not something he could say, though.
“You look lovely,” he says, unprompted. “I love that shirt on you.”
She flushes, and almost, almost, touches his knee in thanks. He preens at the praise, even though it’s not verbal. She’s just so beautiful. It’s always been about more than beauty for him, the mind behind the doe eyes and sweet smile. 
Still, it’s hard to deny how much of an effect she has on him- how she can glance at him with that honey sweet look, how the red on her lips has him wondering what it would taste like. If there could ever be anything better. Without thinking, he grabs one of her hands; it looks just so pretty in his own. He runs his thumb over her knuckles. It’s like electricity, passing through them. 
There has to be something he’s done. There has to be, if she touches everyone but him. He always notices, but tonight, with liquor and courage in his chest, he wants to ask. If he knows, if there’s something- maybe he can fix it. Maybe then she’ll put her pretty hands on him just like this. Touch him in any way she wants.
It wouldn’t be close to what he wants. But it would be something. 
“Hey,” his voice comes out uneven and shaky, but his eyes are locked on hers, “I-I’m sorry if I’ve done something.”
Her face blooms into an adorably confused expression. 
“I-,” His stutter jumps out but he’s still holding her hand, and it’s so soft and his stomach just won’t stop that flipping feeling and he just cannot let go, “I know you like to touch people. I don’t know if I-I’ve done something, but you- you never touch me.”
Suddenly, the bar feels a good bit quieter, and her eyes feel like they can see right through him. Her hands are the only thing tethering him here. 
“I don’t touch you?”
“Touch is actually one of the most well-regarded indicators of closeness and geniality in personal relationship.” 
“Spencer-“
“It stands to reason that if you touch everyone but me, there should be a reason and it’s like something that I would have done to offend you.”
“Hey-“
“I just want you to like me.”
Her face, the most beautiful face he’d ever seen- softens into a delicate expression of fondness. 
“Spence,” and god, doesn’t that sound lovely, “I thought you didn’t like touching.”
He pouts without thinking, and all thoughts leave his mind when her other hand reaches out to hold his face, her fingers on the junction of his chin and neck, stroking the side of his cheek.
The truth of it is he thinks of her hands on him in every way. Pictures hands laced together, her graceful fingers running through his hair as they lay on his couch. 
He’s imagined kissing her way too many times.
“Not with you. You’re different.”
He’s too honest. But it’s overwhelming. Her hand in his, the other brushing delicately over his face. He leans into it, a little too eager, but the sensation of it is just too much not to. 
“Remember the second day of me being with the team? You told Garcia she’s the only one allowed to touch you?”
“I think so?”
“Well, I like to repeat your boundaries.”
“I like you to touch me.”
She tips her head back, laughing, and she looks ethereal, the kind of smile gracing her face that’d have you believe everything you’ve every worried about in your god-forsaken life was worth it to witness this. 
“I’d like to touch you too, Reid.”
“You can call me Spencer,” he says, realizing how close they are. Lilies. He’s overplaying his hand. He’s a friend at work, he wants to remind himself. He’s the guy who bought her perfume and hands her files and gets her coffee and that does not mean the same thing as a partner. He’s not even the kind of person someone like her would want.
It’s just hard to remember that. 
“Spencer,” she says, more tender than anyone else had ever been with him., “I could be reading this wrong, but-“
It’s actually a small distance, kissing her. If she’d been more than a few inches from his face then he wouldn’t have done it. But she was so close, and she smiles into him, open and warm and his arms are around her waist, hers cradling his face, and it’s more touch than he knows what to do with, far less than anything he’d be willing to give up. 
It lasts a languid second and then ends too soon, her gorgeous eyes meeting his own, her basically in his lap. He knows that this is basically a bar-kiss between two coworkers, and that it is unlikely to be anything but that, but he kind of needs it to not be. Needs it to be more. 
“I don’t-I don’t know if you wanted to do that or if you want me to stop, but I really, really like you, and I know we work together and you might not like me back, I mean, probably not, right? But-“
“Spencer.” Her soft fingers are still brushing against his face, and he can’t help but be grateful for it. “I’m free tomorrow night.”
He’s not usually good at deciphering social cues that don’t relate to serial killers, but this one- it seems intentional. Her hands move from his cheek (and he winces, visibly) before wrapping both arms around his neck. It’s awfully romantic to be anything else. 
“Do you want to be my plans?” 
“Yes.”
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sapphire-writes · 6 months
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Long Day (modern!Aemond x Reader)
summary: Balancing life has been increasingly stressful. Aemond helps you relax.
warnings: mostly fluff! kissing, grinding, teasing
word count: 1.8k
note: we're at the point in the semester where some fluff is desperately needed. quick little fluffy story, hope you enjoy!
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When you enter your dimly lit apartment, classical music is playing from the record player Helaena gifted you for your birthday last year. You’re arriving home much later than usual as seems to be the theme for the past couple of weeks. It nearly broke your heart to text Aemond again earlier, telling him you had to stay late at work.
Aemond is seated in his usual spot on the couch, a book in front of him, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—your favorite pair of his; the round ones with the brown frames. A cream-colored cable-knit sweater covers his torso, a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lower half. 
Vhagar sits in the space between his legs, curled up and purring softly. She’s always most content around Aemond, though she’s grown accustomed to your presence since you moved in together. She lazily opens a green eye, and Aemond turns his head at the sound of the door closing. He smiles at you, before returning to his book.
“Hello, love,” he softly greets, turning a page.
“Hey,” you answer with a sigh, unable to hide the exhaustion from the day. 
Aemond looks up from his book again, closing it with one hand. He knows you so well, if your voice is even a little off he catches it. You hang up your raincoat and place your shoes on the neighboring rack. It’s been raining nonstop for the past week; the weather matches your mood.
“What’s happened?”
“Nothing,” you tell him, walking toward the living room. You deposit your bag on the armchair before sitting next to him on the couch, “Just a long day, that’s all.”
Aemond hums, placing his hands under Vhagar who meows unhappily as he gently places her on the floor. She shakes, tall puffing in annoyance and glares at you, knowing you must be the reason for her disturbance. She trots away, her tummy pouch swinging as she disappears down the hall. 
“C’mere,” Aemond beckons and you scoot closer, leaning into him. 
He places an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer as you tuck your knees under you up on the couch. Leaning into his chest you breathe in the scent of his cologne. You can’t help but feel tears well in your eyes as his hand strokes a path down your arm and you unconsciously snuggle closer to him, sniffling slightly.
“What happened?” Aemond asks again, his voice soft and low. 
“Nothing,” you insist, “I mean, nothing happened I’m just…stressed that’s all.”
Aemond is quiet for a moment, continuing his smooth strokes on your arm. You can hear the steady beat of his heart through the sweater he wears, the sound comforting. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.
“Not really,” you admit.
“Okay,” he agrees.
You stay beside him for a few moments in comfortable silence before he speaks again. 
“Tell you what,” he murmurs, “How about you unwind, take a nice shower, and get all comfortable and I’ll make you something to eat.”
You glance up at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.
“Grilled cheese?” you ask hopefully.
“With soup?” he asks, and you eagerly nod causing him to chuckle, “Coming right up.”
Reluctantly you pull yourself away from him, but the promise of a home-cooked comfort meal is enough encouragement to get unready. You take your time in the shower, Vhagar sitting outside the glass doors and licking the condensation that forms from the steam. Showing yourself some love you use every single product you own; scrubbing, lathering, and deep conditioning yourself into a state of euphoria. 
You wrap your fluffiest towel around yourself and take the extra time to dry your hair before throwing it into a claw clip. Scooping Vhagar with you, you walk down the hall to your bedroom, depositing her on the bed. She used to resist when you tried to carry her, but now she’s as limp as a ragdoll and brushes herself against you in appreciation before curling up between the pillows. 
Aemond’s shirts are the comfiest to wear, they engulf you like nothing else. It’s a bit chilly tonight, and you instead choose a large sweater of his. You tease him about it, calling it his ‘old man sweater’ due to the pattern. That, paired with your favorite silk sleep shorts, and you’re in a much better mood. Heading back toward the kitchen, your stomach rumbles at the scent of chicken soup. 
Aemond stands at the stove, mixing his concoction. He’s lit a few candles and turned on the fairy lights that hang around the ceiling giving your apartment a warm glow.
“Sit,” he orders, giving you a small smirk.
Happily you pad over to the couch, throwing the blanket over your bare legs. Aemond is over not a minute later, placing two steaming bowls of chicken noodle soup on the coffee table, and then returning with two grilled cheeses. Eagerly scooting forward, you grab the sandwich and take a bite. You barely suppress a moan, along with your eyes rolling back in your head. 
“Seven hells,” you mutter, taking another bite; the cheese pulling into long strings of gooey perfection.
Aemond chuckles, “Is it good?”
“I’m in love with you,” you tell him, sighing contentedly.
“You know, if that was the first time hearing you say that, I’d be insulted,” he teases.
“Why?” you ask, “Wasn’t it your chef skills that won me over in the first place?”
“You’re very funny,” he says, smirking slightly.
You sit with Aemond, feet thrown across his lap as you eat dinner together. Aemond chooses one of your favorite films to put on in the background as you chat about his day and enjoy your soup. Aemond finishes first, he always eats rather quickly and begins massaging your calves trying to release some of the remaining tension in your limbs.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” he says, broaching the topic once more as his hand slides down to your foot. 
You let out a small groan of appreciation as his fingers move lower to dig into the arch of your foot. 
“It was just a lot today,” you admit, “I just feel like I’m burning out. It’s just a lot to balance with everything going on…”
“I know love, you’re almost there,” Aemond encourages, “It won’t be like this much longer, and you’re doing such a good job.”
His praise warms you like a fire, the sincere look in his blue eyes making your heart sing.
You pull your legs from his grip and shuffle forward, bringing your lips to his, kissing him sweetly before burying your face against him as you did earlier. He pulls you close, arm wrapped around you and tracing lazy circles on your thigh underneath the blanket. You rest against him, listening to his heartbeat as the movie drones on. Soon, lulled by the sound of his heart, your eyelids become heavy and you slip into sleep. 
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It feels like you’ve been sleeping a long time. When you open your eyes you’re still in the living room, the clock displays the time is 2 a.m. Aemond sits, awake still, trapped underneath you. He’d settled for his Kindle this time and held it in one hand, turning the page with the tap of his finger. 
“Aemond,” you murmur, voice thick with sleep as you push yourself into a seated position, “You should’ve woken me.”
“It’s alright,” he insists, placing his kindle down on the table beside him, “How’d you sleep?”
“Very well,” you admit, sitting back on your haunches, “Gods. It’s late.”
Aemond hums in agreement, watching you stretch your arms above your head, revealing a sliver of your stomach. He reaches out, unable to help himself, placing a hand on your hip. You drop your arms, smiling at him lovingly. 
“Do you feel better?” he asks.
“Mhmm,” you answer, scooting closer, “I happen to have the best boyfriend.”
“Oh, do you?” he asks, tugging you closer by your thigh. 
You spread your legs, letting him drag you across his lap until you’re straddling his waist. Leaning forward, you nuzzle against his neck, placing soft kisses along his throat as you wrap your arms around him. Aemond releases a soft groan, his hands palming the swell of your ass and you wiggle against him, getting as close as possible. 
One of his hands snakes underneath your sweater, his large palm pressing into the small of your back. A shiver rolls down your spine and you swivel your hips against him.
“Baby…” he murmurs, turning his face toward you and placing a kiss on your cheek.
“What?” you murmur, nipping the pale skin of his throat. Aemond’s hand runs up and down your back, the other gripping your thigh. You can feel him growing harder beneath you; the increasing pressure between your legs growing with every shift of your hips against his.
“I should put you to bed,” he groans as you press your lips against the cool metal of his chain, “Fuck issa rina dōna (my sweet girl).”     
You smile, dragging your lips to meet his in a slow, sensual kiss. Once Aemond starts slipping into High Valyrian, you know you’ve got him where you want him. His lips are soft and warm against your own as you continue to kiss him at an unhurried pace, simply enjoying being close to him. 
You sigh as his lips move down, tracing the curve of your jaw and finding a home below your ear, kissing the sensitive spot there as you drag your nails across his scalp.
“Tell me what you need, gevie,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.
 “Need you, Aem,�� you tell him, “Please, just need you.”
“Shhh I know, I know,” he gently coos, “I’ll take care of you issa jorrāelagon (my love).”  
You and Aemond stay up much longer than anticipated, finally retiring to your shared bedroom as the first beams of sunlight begin to trickle through your windows. When you wake you’re snuggled against Aemond, the blankets cradling you both in a warm cocoon. 
“I’ve called out for you,” Aemond tells you as you’re pressed against his chest, “You’re going to spend the whole day in bed.”
“Aemond,” you giggle, “I can’t possibly be that lazy-”
“Oh yes you can,” he insists, arms tightening around you, “I’ve called out as well. So you’ve nothing to worry about.” He places a kiss on your head before hovering on top of you. 
“Now,” he says, head dipping to kiss your collarbone, “Let’s quiet that beautiful brain of yours, shall we?”
“Oh?” you breathe as he continues to kiss up your neck, “And how do you plan to do that?”
Aemond hums against you, and you can feel his grin.
“Well, we’ve got all day to find out, haven’t we?”
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