#do not call me. do not call me. do not call me.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags. olderbf!gojo x female reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ not proof read !

satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.

you patiently stand there, waiting for that said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.

your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.

‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’

it’s infuriating to hear those words while you - his girlfriend - are standing close to them. you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.

satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway - graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.

he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply does not care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.

“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall. the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.

you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.

“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips. his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.

you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.

. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.

he understands why you’re feeling that way.

the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there was no need for that. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.

perhaps they need to be reminded once more.

satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he can see how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.

the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”

“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin. he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.

“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”

satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.

“whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward. you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.

it’s irksome. you know satoru doesn’t give them the attention they so desire - he never will - yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.

satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the other students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.

the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to— no matter what.

your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.

satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.

he wants to make it up to you, somehow.

once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.

satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.

that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.

“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving. he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.

“thank you.”

it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.

your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation— he wants you to communicate with him.

“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window. it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.

“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips. satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.

you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to your partner, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.

sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression - plagued with insecurity - tugs on his heartstrings.

“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs once more.

without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.

the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.

his want and need for you.

satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.

“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip. he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.

he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.

“haah— fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist. he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.

his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.

“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.

your lover hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back. “there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.

you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear. “sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.

the white-haired man shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.

satoru pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at— which is your car window.

“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”

your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.

your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .

you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.

your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;

“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”

[xmaveria]

I was part of the @swimonzine Volume 10 a shark charity zine. You may still purchase it here which I highly recommend it to shark fans and enthusiasts. I'm always excited to be part of zines like these and this was no different! I picked two Deep Ocean Sharks, The greater green lantern shark, and the lesser known Megamouth cousin of the Whale shark and Basking Shark

[webism]

pornstar!sukuna who has a niche for the dark and dangerous, he only accepts shoots that cater to his more… intense nature—ropes and chains and gags and rigs beyond the regular bedroom scenes.

pornstar!sukuna who works with many other actors and actresses. he's demeaned and degraded more people for a pay check than he can count, but his favourite is you. you’re not so easy to break, which he likes—plus, videos in which you bite back make double the profit.

pornstar!sukuna who is easy to agree when you call him one night asking for a favour. you were meant to do a camshow with another pornstar when he cancelled last minute—and you know people are excited for this one, if you don’t want to miss out on a paycheck you’d need to find a quick replacement.

pornstar!sukuna who is expecting a homemade bd/sm rig to greet him when he walks into your home that night.

pornstar!sukuna who isn’t expecting a bed with a pink duvet and matching fluffy pink handcuffs hanging from your headboard. it’s cute, he thinks—he can picture the scene, you laid out and fucked like a whore in pink. he’s eager, until you tell him the handcuffs aren’t for you, but for him.

pornstar!sukuna who is about ready to walk out, to tell you off for even assuming he’d do such things on camera, that he'd ruin his crafted image of this sadistic figurehead for a camshow of all things.

pornstar!sukuna who just can't say no and turn on his heels, not when you look up at him like that, your pretty eyes just too convincing. He's seen you fucked out and stupidly cockdrunk before, he knows what you look like when you submit wholly to him, and though it's a beautiful sight—one of his favourites—he can't deny that he's intrigued to know how you look through his eyes when they're glossed with desperate pleasure.

pornstar!sukuna, the notorious dominant, who loads up on thousands. of peoples screens handcuffed to a pink bed. Everything pink: the cuffs, the sheets, his mussed hair, the pretty blush that paints the bridge of his nose, the leaky tip of his cock as you stroke it, your nails painted pink to match.

pornstar!sukuna who growls when people start tipping each time he gets close to cumming. who looks so insanely out of place, big and imposing and so covered in tattoos that even his ridiculous length has been inked to an extent, all needy and growing all the more desperate as you keep denying him his orgasm. wrists chained to your wooden headboard, his muscles ache with the temptation of breaking free.

pornstar!sukuna who can't help but wonder if his life has been flipped on its head when you start praising him and he moans at your words alone. Who, for all his life has gotten off on inflicting the worst onto others, and can now feel the most powerful orgasm of his life cresting when those narcotic words spill from your lips. "doing so well for me, god you look good like this, sukuna."

pornstar!sukuna who can only hold on for so long before his taut-pulled patience snaps and burns on impact. so when he's watching himself through the display of your laptop, cock red and angry as it leaks in need at your denial of his orgasm again, he snaps.

pornstar!sukuna who breaks your handcuffs with one pull, and has you flipped over and taking his mean cock in less time than it takes you to process his movements. who is glad you were enjoying torturing him, because you're so wet that the stretch of his cock is only searingly painful and you're not pushed to tears... this time.

pornstar!sukuna who fucks you mindless for toying with him for so long. for airing out a side of him that is weak in the bones for you, and plastering it on the internet for anyone to see. he bullies his cock into you, mean and unrelenting—yet whispers the sweetest of nothings into your ear as he does so, low enough that your mic can't pick up on them—your ears only.

pornstar!sukuna who kisses you when he cums. his lip piercing cold against your lips, your legs shaking in desperate need for mercy as he paints your insides white.

pornstar!sukuna who laughs when you, in your cum-drunk haze, try to reach for your laptop to turn off the camshow.

pornstar!sukuna who promises your now-doubled viewer count that the stream won't end until you've come ten times on his cock—he's going to make an example out of you.

[toadtoru]

MOVIE NIGHT

pairing: suguru geto x fem! reader contents: smut, mutual masturbation, getting interrupted (not caught), cockwarming, pet names (pretty girl, my girl, baby), he calls you slut once wordcount: 1.7k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Your best friend, Suguru, who tries to convince you to let him fuck you while Shoko and Satoru are out getting snacks. You’re sitting on the other end of the couch, frowning at him, while Suguru merely smiles at you, urging you to come sit in his lap. 

He looks so fucking good it’s almost infuriating. Half of his hair up, the other falling down his shoulders, wearing just sweatpants and a black t-shirt. 

“Sugu, they’re gonna be back soon, we can’t,” you say, trying to send him a stern look. Suguru sighs and adjusts himself on the sofa, spreading his legs and allowing you to see the growing bulge in his sweats. He’s big already, and he’s not even fully erect. The sight makes your face grow hot, and Suguru knows you’re flustered but he just chuckles.

“C’mon, pretty,” he says, tilting his head to the side. “Come sit,”

You swallow nervously, but nevertheless, you crawl towards where he’s sitting on the sofa. Once you’re close enough, he grabs your forearms and pulls you into his lap, directly onto his length. He ignores your squeak of surprise as his hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your sides. 

You’re still pouting. Despite the fact that you came to him willingly, you can’t help but feel like you’ve been roped into this. Suguru hums in satisfaction, and a hand comes up to stroke your cheek. 

“There’s my girl,” he says, leaning in and kissing the corner of your lips. 

My girl. 

His words make heat pool in your belly, and you melt slightly, placing your hands on his shoulders. One of his hands squeeze your tit through your shirt, the other toys with the hem of your sleeping shorts. 

In Suguru’s opinion, you look like a perfect little gift for him. He’s been plotting this ever since you came down to the living room in that dangerously small pyjama, nipples poking through the fabric and shorts hugging your ass just right. He noticed Shoko and Satoru eyeing you as well. Satoru’s face grew positively flushed, and Shoko’s lips curled into a smile. Getting them to leave to get snacks wasn't very easy. 

But now you’re here. In his lap. Alone. 

And Suguru just wants to push those tiny shorts to the side and stretch you out on his cock till the only thing on your mind is his name. 

“We don’t have enough time,” you mumble, trying to keep up some resemblance of resistance. Suguru hums, eyes dropping down to your crotch as he begins to rub circles right over your clit. Your breath hitches, and your hands on his shoulders tighten their grip.

With his other hand he pulls up your shirt, watching your tits spill out. He cups one with his free hand, rolling his thumb over your nipple, while he leans down and sucks on the other.

“Suguru,”

The way you say his name is more of a moan than a warning. Your hips grind down on his thumb, chasing friction, and Suguru doesn’t even try to fight the smile making its way onto his face as he pulls back to watch your reactions. 

“We can be fast,” he says. You gasp when he pulls the crotch of your shorts to the side and runs his fingers through your folds. “You’ll be good for me, right?” he asks, and you nod, any coherent thoughts already turning blurry. 

“Say it,” Suguru says, and you pout when his fingers deftly avoid your clit, instead merely stroking you. 

“I’ll be good, Suguru. I promise,” you reply, and Suguru grins. His cock is hard and leaking in his boxers now, aching for attention. You eye the bulge and reach down to stroke him through his sweats. Suguru rewards you with a thumb on your clit, and begins rubbing methodic circles into the sensitive bud. You close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder as you grind into his touch. 

Suguru decides to add a finger, pushing in and feeling your walls constrict around him. You let out a shaky breath before slipping your hand into his boxers and freeing his cock. You eye his length and a small whine leaves you at the sight. Suguru is thick. So thick and so big that the thought of having him inside you makes your cunt gush around Suguru’s hand. His tip is red and flushed, and pearly drops of precum collect around his head. 

You hesitate for a second, and Suguru notices. He kisses the crown of your head before gripping your hair with his free hand and pulling your head back to look at him. You gasp, and Suguru chuckles before giving you a chaste kiss on your lips. 

“Spit on it,” he says, and you do immediately. Suguru hums, rewarding you with another finger, and your hips stutter against his hands. His fingers are so long and thick, able to stretch you out much better than your own. 

You wrap a hand around his length, pumping him and mixing precum with spit, making the action smoother. Suguru groans and throws his head back as you use both hands to stroke him off. His ministrations on your cunt momentarily stop, and you watch his face contort in bliss before beginning to move your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers. 

Suguru’s brows knit together at the sight. Do you even know how sinful you look? What your actions do to him? Your eyes are lidded, glazed over as you pout at him, your expression begging him to ruin you. Your hands on his cock are clumsy, uncoordinated, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way. You squeeze his base, and Suguru has to stop himself from coming early.

You’re practically sin incarnate. 

“Look at you,” his voice is a mix of lust and disbelief. His eyes fall to where your hips are swirling in circles on his fingers. “You were so hesitant a second ago. What were your words? We can’t, Sugu,” his tone is teasing.

“Now you’re fucking yourself on my fingers like a slut.”

You whine, and Suguru decides to add another finger for good measure. The stretch burns a little and sparks fly through your body, making your toes curl. At this point you’re far too fucked out to answer his mocking words. 

“I haven’t even put my cock inside you, and you’re already cockdrunk.”

“Shut up.” Your retort comes out weak. You’ll never admit it, but you love it when Suguru is mean to you. It makes slick pool in your panties every time, this time being no exception as your cunt gushes, coating Suguru’s hand and fingers. You’re close.

So close. 

Suguru knows too. His lips curl into a smile, and he thrusts into your hand, hoping to reach his orgasm at the same time as you. You pant and lean in to kiss him. 

“I want to come,” you murmur, your lips ghosting over his.

“Yeah, pretty girl. You wanna come just from my fingers? Make a mess?” 

You glare at him, though Suguru hardly feels threatened. Your hands stroke his cock more diligently before one comes down to fondle his balls, and you run your thumb over his sensitive tip with the other. Suguru’s hips stutter, and his thigh twitches. He can practically taste his orgasm, and he can tell you're tethering on the edge too by the way your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“We’re back!”

You hear the front door open and Satoru’s sing-song voice as he rambles excitedly about the candy he chose. You fly away from Suguru’s lap, immediately tugging his cock into his boxers again, before jumping off his fingers and settling beside him. You adjust your clothes, pulling down your top and putting a blanket over you. 

Suguru blinks. He looks down at his now painful erection before adjusting himself, so it’s harder to tell. He silently thanks himself for wearing black sweats, hiding the wet patch from where you sat just moments ago. 

He looks up at you. You look dishevelled if anything, but you hide it well. His fingers are still covered in your slick, and he keeps eye contact with you as he brings them to his lips and sucks them clean. You gape and shift uncomfortably. He can tell you’re rubbing your thighs together, trying to soothe the ache that you’re no doubt feeling. 

Satoru walks into the living room, holding bags and more bags of sweets. Shoko strolls behind him. 

“I tried to stop him, but it was useless,” she says, motioning to the amount of candy in Satoru’s arms. You giggle, slightly more high-pitched than normal. 

“What movie are we watching?” Shoko asks, plopping down beside you. Satoru grabs the remote and starts talking about a movie he’s been wanting to watch. Suguru pulls at your blanket. You glare at him and Suguru pouts. 

“I’m cold,”

“Find your own blanket.”

“But you have one right there.” 

“There’s not enough for both of us!” You huff, and Suguru sighs, pretending to think. 

“Ah, I have a solution,” he says, promptly grabbing you and pulling you into his lap with your back against his chest. You squeal as Suguru wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you there, while the other adjusts the blanket to cover you. 

Neither Shoko nor Satoru bats an eye, instead arguing about the movie—Shoko thinks Satoru’s pick is stupid and Satoru thinks it’s perfect—leaving you at Suguru’s mercy. You can feel him throbbing against your ass as he pulls out his cock again and slips your pj to the side. You tense, but ease up when Suguru presses a kiss on your shoulder. 

“Relax,” he murmurs. “We’ll just sit like this,” he presses his cockhead against your cunt and pushes in slowly.

“You promised you’d be a good girl right?” You try to keep your face neutral, thankful that neither of your two friends is paying attention.

“Yeah,” you breathe, digging your nails into his arm around your waist. Soon, he’s buried to the hilt. You’re stuffed—stretched obscenely—pussy throbbing and leaking around his pulsing cock. 

Suguru kisses the crown of your head.

“There you go, baby,”

It takes everything in you to relax and rest your head on Suguru. Suguru wraps both arms around you, one slipping under your shirt to squeeze your tit before settling around your waist again. Satoru turns off the lights and starts the movie, all four pairs of eyes settling on the TV screen. 

You take a breath. It’s just two hours. Two hours sat on Suguru’s dizzyingly big cock. You can handle that.

Yeah.

For sure. 

thank you for reading!

🏷️ tags: @kisstoru @hiraethwrote @interconnectedmatrix @s-vila @gojouology

@kaskc @dearest-yeosang @sebastianlover

masterlist | dividers by me

[gil-estel]

ok as part of my job I have to make a lot of follow-up calls (not cold calls) to elder millennials/young gen-xers and it has me wondering

*edit: if a business/unknown number is calling/not a friend or relative

feel free to leave your age in the tags too

[pellucid-constellations]

If You Cared to Ask

Azriel hasn't been listening. You got hurt. Sometimes, an argument can't be boiled down to just one instance.

Part 2

“You never listen! I have tried over and over to get you to understand but it’s like you don’t even care.”

Azriel’s brow twitched in irritation, the only tell on his otherwise passive face. “That is not true. We have sat down and discussed this at length, y/n. I listen.” 

You laughed, an incredulous pressure weighing down your shoulders. “Okay, fine. You listen, but you never hear me, Azriel! I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall most of the time.” 

“I can reiterate every word you’ve ever said to me. I hear you and I listen to you.” 

Anger twisted through your gut at his nonchalance. You clenched and unclenched your fists and tried to ignore the heat slowly encroaching upon your ability to remain composed. Although, compared to Azriel, you were not even close to the picture of calm. 

“Tell me why it bothers me then,” you seethed through clenched teeth. “Reiterate it for me, Shadowsinger.” 

Azriel’s jaw shifted as he clasped his hands together in his lap, the faelight in the kitchen clashing harshly with the planes of his face. He leaned back in his chair and let out a tortured sigh that almost sent you reeling. 

“You seem to believe,” Azriel began, his voice a low drawl. “That I am blatantly avoiding you—that I am choosing to serve my high lord in place of spending time with you. Both of which, I am not doing. I simply have a duty to this court, y/n. You know that.” 

“Oh, fuck you, Azriel,” you rolled your eyes. “Making this about duty and honor. Making me seem like I’m the crazy one for being angry when you promised me—” 

“You know there is little I can do about promises,” Azriel snapped, a hint of anger finally showing through in the darkness of his eyes. “You knew when we were mated that I have responsibilities that go beyond our relationship.” 

You pushed back from your seat at the table and set to pacing in the kitchen, fighting the urge to tug at the roots of your hair. “Yes, obviously, Azriel, but this was so important to me. I needed you there and this isn’t the first time I’ve been abandoned without even a word.” 

“Abandoned,” Azriel scoffed. “I would hardly call not showing up to your clinic at the camps one day abandoning you. Rhys needed me to—” 

“I needed you!” you shouted, your hands pressed to the countertops and your gaze frantic as you stared at Azriel’s unmoving figure. “I needed you, Azriel. I had every eye on me in that camp and when Devlon’s men had me yanked from the clinic for what I was doing I needed you to—” 

“He did what?” 

“Oh, don’t act like you care now.” You waved off the staunch posture he had adopted and rolled your eyes for a second time at the piercing hatred that had taken over his expression. “Don’t you dare act like you have the right.” 

“You are my mate, y/n. If anyone put their hands on you—” 

“Well, they did. Bruised up my arms and everything. But you were so busy with your duty to your high lord that you couldn’t give a shit until after I was thrown into the mud surrounded by the women I was supposed to be helping up there.” 

Azriel’s hands turned white as he clenched them in his lap. His lashes fluttered and his brow furrowed and he looked utterly lost at the situation—unable to formulate any kind of response to what could be considered his failure. 

“I thought you were simply setting up the back rooms. I didn’t know you were starting the practice or speaking to the camp,” he croaked, eyes downcast and searching the floor. 

“Except I told you I was. I told you two weeks ago and then again right before I left.” 

“I—I can’t remember you saying that.” 

“Of course you can’t. Because if it isn’t Rhys giving you orders or Cassian leading training you’re absent. You stand right in front of me and you’re not even here.”

Azriel finally looked up from the ground and met your eyes with the same torture his sigh made you privy to earlier. But this time it was rooted in something else—this time, he seemed to finally grasp the weight behind your words. 

But you were utterly sick of trying to get him to this point. “I’m so sorry, my love,” he expressed, pain in the furrow of his brow. “I hadn’t realized—with Rhys just returning to Velaris I’ve been so caught up in—” 

“I’m sorry too,” you cut him off. 

Azriel froze. “What?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the dread begin to rise. You knew you were going to hate this part, but you hadn’t expected Azriel to apologize. He hadn’t apologized for anything in months. You’d been alone in this relationship and he chose the day you’d packed your bags to show remorse.

“I can’t do this, Azriel. Not right now.” 

“Can’t do what?” 

The silence in the kitchen was oppressive. Azriel had leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and you were on the other side of the kitchen counter, protected by a barrier you knew you should have put up weeks ago. Your eyes never left his. 

“I can’t do this with you.” 

Azriel breathed in sharply, his eyes widening. “No,” he stressed, heaving up from the chair. “No, y/n, don’t—what do you mean you can’t do this? Explain it to me.” 

Your mate attempted to round the counter and reach for you, but you weren’t going to accept the affection…not when you had been begging for it for months. Not when he was only ready to give it to you now.

You backpeddled until you reached the hall. Azriel didn’t follow, afraid you would take off. 

“I’ve been telling you this was a problem for months now. I thought it was just an adjustment period—I knew that having Rhys back would change things at first and I was okay with that. Your brother returned from hell and you needed to be there to support him. To support your family. 

“But I’m your family, too. And you forgot that. I can’t—I can’t be relying on someone like that right now. I’m doing too much at the camps for you to… forget about me so easily. I can’t keep building you up in my mind just to be disappointed and hurt.” 

Azriel's jaw quivered. 

“Emotionally and physically. I would’ve asked someone else to come to the clinic with me yesterday, but I chose you. And you forgot about me.” 

Azirel looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach, his shoulders caving in with his anguished breath out. You pressed your lips together as you watched him, all of your anger morphing into a twisted sort of guilt that didn’t sit right in your gut. 

“Please,” Azriel whispered. His hands shook at his side. “Please, I’m so sorry, my love. I never wanted—Please, don’t leave me.” 

“You don’t get to have both, Azriel.” Your voice was as weak as his. “You don’t get to have me and treat me like I’m something you deal with on the side. I matter more than— 

Azriel shook his head and broke through your words. “You matter more than anything. I’ve been a fool. I know I’m an ass. Please, let me fix this, my love. Please don’t leave.” 

You clenched your fists so hard your nails embedded into your palms. 

“I need time to be alone.” 

Azriel was quick to nod. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll leave and—” 

“No, I need… more time than that. I have some things packed. I’ll be back, but… I need to leave. I can’t think clearly around you.” 

A choked cry left Azriel’s throat and the sound burned at your waterline. “Where?” 

You only shook your head. 

“Tell me where. Please. How am I supposed to know you’re safe?” 

“How were you supposed to know before?” 

Part 2

[likeumeanit9497]

i know you know | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after a night at a party, matt hears his best friend sleeping with someone. the memory of it overtakes him all the next day, and he can't get it off his mind. but what happens when it turns out that she wanted him to hear all along?

warnings: SMUT (holy fuck this is smutty); established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); unprotected p in v (don't do this); absolutely filthy talk; voyeurism vibes; switch!matt; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: guys i fear i might have just written my new fave one shot. i warned y'all that i only have matt ideas rn, but this one is SO GOOD i had to post immediately. i normally don't go feral for my own writing but this one made me get up and do a few laps around the house tbh. i hope y'all like it as much as i liked writing it LOVE U LOVE U LOVE U MUAH

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Matt?” You called his name as you began climbing up his front steps. “Hey, I’m doing laundry.” His voice rang through the house, and as you entered the empty kitchen you saw his back in the hallway as he folded a pair of jeans and placed them on the neat pile of clean laundry stacked on top of the washing machine. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment half in greeting and half to help ease the pounding in your heavy head.

“Last night almost killed me. How are you feeling?” You asked him, lifting your head off of his shoulder so that he could face you. His eyes were tired, his hair was a mess, but there was a slight glint of curiosity in his eyes that caught you off guard. After staring at you for a moment too long, he replied. “I feel alright. Slept most of the day though.” You released a soft laugh.

Last night, you and Matt went to a big party for one of your mutual friends. What was supposed to be an early night — both of you agreeing to show face for an hour and then head home — turned into one filled with dancing, too much tequila, and a night spent on the couch of the host for you both. Once you were both sober in the morning, Matt drove you home and you both tended to your own hangovers for the rest of the day. Now it was Sunday evening, and you two decided to spend it watching a movie and eating shitty food.

“Same here,” You replied, “I literally rolled out of bed 30 minutes ago. You’re lucky I even had enough energy to drive over here.” You leaned against the running dryer, and watched as one of Matt’s eyebrows arched as he continued folding clothes. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He replied, a smile threatening to creep over his mouth. Noticing the knowing tone in his voice, you grew confused.

What you didn’t know, was that Matt knew that it wasn’t just the two of you who had spent the night on that sectional couch. He had noticed you spending a lot of time with Carrington, a good friend of the host. He watched the two of you throughout the night — he saw you touch him any chance you got; saw you dance on him once you got really drunk; and most definitely saw you press your lips to his at the end of the night. So, late last night as he tried his best to sleep, when he heard the creek of the stairs and felt the dip in the couch, he knew that Carrington had laid down with you. That was confirmed when he heard the soft whispers that you two shared before the sound of wet kisses filled the dark room. A moment later, he laid as still as he could as he felt the couch begin to move in a rhythm that could only mean one thing.

Although you and Matt had the type of strong friendship where you both felt comfortable telling the other about your sex lives, never before had either of you been so close in proximity to the act itself. Although he was facing the opposite direction, Matt knew that your feet were only centimetres from his head, and the thought of invading your privacy like this, albeit unintentional, made his cheeks flush red. Even in his belligerent state, Matt had been shocked, and he considered making the fact that he was still awake known. Until he heard it.

Your soft moans floated like music in his mind, and they were unlike anything he had heard before. They were angelic, breathless; as if the air was being pushed out of your lungs involuntarily to create the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. The heat that he felt in his cheeks immediately began travelling down his body, right to his growing member. And then, the unmistakable wet sounds of your arousal — surely dripping from you not more than two feet away from his ear — caused his head to spin. The two sounds radiating from you created the perfect harmony, and they made his cock press excruciatingly against his stomach; desperate for some relief.

The movement of the couch — and with it, your moans and wetness — increased in speed. As it did, your soft voice, so familiar and divine, whispered into the quiet room, “I’m gonna cum!” Matt pressed his pelvis into the couch, doing his best to relieve some of the pressure he felt in the tip of his cock. As your moans got louder, his heart pounded faster. Suddenly, as you reached your orgasm and began riding the waves, he felt one of your feet lightly graze his bare back. Goosebumps immediately rose on his skin, and the slight contact in combination with everything he heard was so intense that he thought he was going to cum all over himself.

But just then, the room grew painfully silent once again. After some time, the indistinguishable whispering returned, then the sound of one quick kiss, and finally, the creaking sound of the stairs. You two were alone once again, and in the silence Matt began to question whether or not he had dreamt it all. That was, until he heard your soft voice whisper his name. Immediately, he felt his body react, but stayed as still as possible so that you would think he was asleep. He seemed to do a good enough job, as after not getting a response, you slowly got off the bed and walked to the bathroom.

Once he heard the door click shut, his eyes shot open. The air was filled with the addictive smell of sex, and his cock had grown so hard that it was throbbing. Tentatively, he ran his hand along his shaft still in his boxers and had to stifle a guttural moan from the brief contact. No, he couldn’t do this here. Not when you were in the next room able to walk back through the door at any moment. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep. He would just have to try to get to sleep, and deal with his spiralling brain tomorrow.

Well, now it was tomorrow, and he had spent the entire day thinking about it. When he had woken up to your smiling face asking for a ride home, he had felt riddled with guilt; as if he had taken advantage of you. The guilt was only exemplified when, once he was alone, he had spent every minute thinking about it; his dick growing hard every time he heard your moans in the back of his mind. Even as he slept the day away, he had dreams about it and had even woken himself up by grinding his hips against his mattress. It had been driving him crazy, and now you were standing in front of him, seemingly oblivious to everything that had been running through his mind, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Hello? Earth to Matt?” Your voice pulled him out of his train of thought, and immediately his cheeks flushed when he realized that he had been completely zoned out for god knows how long. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He mumbled, folding the shirt he had in his hands. “You’ve deadass folded and re-folded that shirt like five times. Are you okay?” You asked, concern etched across your face. Gulping, Matt nodded his head. “Shit really? Must be the brain fog.” He forced out a laugh that sounded painful to his own ears, but it seemed to be convincing enough for you, as you once again relaxed against the dryer.

Matt’s focus went back to the pile of clothes in front of him, and as he began organizing the pile of socks, he heard what he had been reimagining over and over again in his mind. That now achingly familiar soft moan of yours. His whole body jolted in shock, the sound much more vivid than it had been in his memory. Slowly, his eyes were pulled from the laundry to your face, and he found your eyes shut in ecstasy as you leaned against the running dryer. His jaw almost dropped at the sight, and his cock, already having been on high alert all day, immediately responded.

“This feels so good.” You whispered, just as you had the night before, and Matt had to brace himself against the washing machine to stay upright. Your eyes were still closed, a small smile crept onto your full lips, and in that moment it all became too much for him. His cock was pulsing in rhythm with his rapid heartbeat, and as you released another small moan and bit your bottom lip, he began to wonder if maybe — just maybe — you had wanted him to hear you last night.

His hunch grew stronger and stronger as he continued to take in your expression with your back pressed against the dryer, and he felt the shame strip off of him as your hooded eyes finally opened slowly. They landed on his dilated eyes and slowly trailed down to the impressive bulge in his pants. Looking back up at his flushed face, you couldn’t help but smile shamelessly. Because he had been right.

It hadn’t been planned, of course, but once Carrington pushed himself into you, the thought of Matt being just on the other side of the couch filled you with a new and unfamiliar level of arousal. So as you moaned, you hoped that he would hear it. The thought of him listening caused you to grow more wet than you ever had before, and it didn’t take long for you to finish. As you came, you purposefully brushed your foot against him; trying to let him know that it was him you were thinking about as you unraveled.

You hadn’t been sure that he heard you, after all when you whispered his name he hadn’t answered, but the way he had been acting since you arrived at his house today — zoning out, avoiding eye contact, and seeming extremely flustered — you know that he knows. And knowing the effect it had on him, you want him to do something about it.

Matt watched as you put both hands on the dryer before hoisting yourself up to sit on it. With the dryer running, the vibration that came from it shot right to your core, and subconsciously your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Matt watched, completely stunned, as you pleasured yourself on top of the dryer. He was in such a state of shock that he wasn’t even sure if this was real life. You rolled your hips once, twice, against the machine, and then suddenly your eyes were on him again. The pleasure you were experiencing was etched into your face — your full lips a dark shade of red, dark eyebrows knit together, pink cheeks flushed — and it drove him crazy. But it wasn’t until your lips turned up in a small smile and you grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you, that he was finally able to move.

“You heard me last night, didn’t you.” You finally regarded the elephant in the room, and watched as his eyes bulged slightly in surprise at your knowing gaze. Very slightly, he nodded his head; his eyes were planted on your lips. “Should we talk about it?” You asked, dragging your fingertips up and down his torso slowly; feeling his stomach tense each time you reached below his belly button. Still hypnotized by your lips, Matt placed his hands on each side of your face before shaking his head no.

Without hesitation, he engulfed your mouth with his own. They moved with a quivering desperation that can’t be sufficiently described with words. His hands ran through your hair, pulling you as close to him as he could. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, gasping at the feeling of his rock hard member pressing against your aching core. It seemed to affect him too, because as soon as they made contact a small grunt fell from his lips and landed on yours.

Matt’s hands eventually moved from your hair and snaked down to your waist, where he quickly pulled your loose-fitting sundress up and exposed your bare tits. You watched as he took a moment to admire their fullness before bringing his mouth to one. He nibbled and sucked on your sensitive nipple, shooting rays of pleasure down your spine. As he moved his mouth to your second tit, he gripped harshly onto your hips. With his grasp, he expertly titled your pelvis in such a way where your cunt was pressed directly against the dryer; causing moans to spill from your mouth from the vibration.

As he helped you roll your hips against the warm metal, he struggled to keep his composure as he heard you moan for himfor the first time. Just like last night, they were soft and breathy, as if you didn’t even notice them falling from your lips. But his ears caught every single one, and they drove him crazier each time. Looking down to where your body connected with the machine, his vision grew blurry as he noticed the fluid that had accumulated on top of the dryer; the same fluid that he had heard last night. “Mmm, so wet already?” He managed to purr in your ear, causing you to shudder in pleasure.

You nodded, letting your head fall back as the pleasure intensified by his words. “F-for you Matt— fuck! — all f-for you.” At your words, Matt stopped all of his movements, afraid that he would fall apart in seconds if you kept speaking like that. Looking up at your disoriented face, he noticed that the loss of friction was making you antsy. You hooked a small finger in his chain and pulled his lips to yours; kissing him deeply as his tongue swiped against your teeth begging for entrance. You pulled away, needing more than a kiss, and watched in awe as Matt read your mind and dropped to his knees in front of you. He brought his hands up to your hips where he grabbed onto the sides of your thong, slowly sliding it down your legs.

You watched, chest heaving, as he tossed your discarded thong into his pile of laundry that still needed to be washed without letting his eyes leave your dripping core. His eyes on you like this was exactly what you imagined as you thought of him last night, and the neediness in his blue eyes threw you into an erotic frenzy. He grabbed both of your legs and, after stroking them thoughtlessly for a few seconds, placed them on both of his shoulders. Eyes flittering between your core and your face, he spoke, “Need a taste.” His voice was gruff with arousal, and you responded by lacing your hands through his hair and pushing his beautiful face in between your legs.

As soon as his tongue ran up your slit to collect your arousal, he lost any hint of sanity that he still had. You were so sweet against his tastebuds, and so soft against his lips, it took everything out of him to not cream his pants. Instead, he effortlessly found your aching clit and began sucking and kissing the sensitive bundle of nerves. Already stimulated by the dryer, you felt yourself melt under the pressure of his tongue. He couldn’t stop himself from moaning against you, causing the vibration to echo through your entire body. You mindlessly began grinding yourself against his face, chasing a high so intense that nothing else seemed to matter.

Matt relished in the feeling of suffocating by you, and used his hands to spread you apart. He pulled away for a brief moment to take a look at you stretched open for him, and the sight of your dripping hole — begging, without words, to be filled — made him want to pull his cock out and slam it into you immediately. But no, he was going to savour this. So instead, he spit onto your cunt and began tongue fucking your hole. As he eagerly drank up all your juices, his tongue moving in and out of you quickly, you lost the ability to stifle your moans.

Even though he knew you were getting too loud — after all, Nick and Chris were somewhere in the house — Matt couldn’t get himself to shut you up. The sounds that fell from your lips were like music to his ears, and he wanted to listen to them forever. Besides, how could he tell you that you were being too loud when he was making all sorts of erotic noises with his mouth against your cunt?

Your head fell back against the dryer, it wouldn’t be long until you came. The build up was so intense, so good, that you almost didn’t want it to end. Plus, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Matt’s poor cock, suffocating in his pants. As you imagined it, veiny and dark red at the tip, your mouth began to water. After coming back from the washroom and getting back on the couch last night, you glanced at Matt’s still frame and wondered if — even subconsciously, if he hadbeen sleeping — his body had reacted to what had happened. Your suspicion was furthered the next morning. When you went to wake him up to ask if he could drive you home, the blanket had slipped off of his lower body and exposed the imprint of his hardened cock; and your mouth watered. Since then, you had fantasized about taking all of him in your mouth as an apology for not helping him out that morning.

These thoughts raced through your bleary mind, and the pressure continued to increase in your lower stomach at Matt’s relentless tongue in between your legs. You wanted to cum, badly, but even more than that you wanted to get a taste of him. Just the thought of his warm cock in your throat caused your back to arch and a moan to slip from your lips, so in a frenzy you grabbed his jaw and pulled his mouth from your core. Cool air quickly replaced his warm tongue, and you cringed at the loss of contact. Matt looked up at you, his eyes hooded in contentment and his lips and chin coated with your arousal. “What’s wrong?” He asked, taking in your expression.

Without saying anything, you turned your body so that you were now facing the wall behind the dryer. Carefully, you lowered your torso so that you were now laying against the machine, legs bent and facing away from Matt; your view now being his frame upside down. Confused, Matt took a few steps back so that he could look at your face. You lock eyes with him, and he chuckles softly. “What are you doing?” His voice is still deeper than usual, and your view of his bulge makes it clear that he is in desperate need of you. “Want you to fuck my throat.” You replied simply, watching as his eyes darken in arousal while his eyebrows knit together in relief.

Without hesitation, Matt begins frantically removing his grey sweatpants. His cock has been achingly hard since last night with little to no relief, and your words shot straight to it. The filthy talk falling from your lips was still so foreign to him, but that unfamiliarity was addicting. He pulled his boxers down and finally freed his cock from its restraint, and even the feeling of it slapping his stomach on release was enough to make him shudder in pleasure.

As soon as your eyes fell to his exposed cock, your mouth watered. It was so perfect, so plump, you couldn’t wait to wrap your lips around it. As he took a step forward, you impatiently opened your mouth wide; not wanting to wait another second. Luckily, the feeling was mutual, and after tapping your mouth with his cock twice, he slides just the tip in. Already, the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him causes him to see stars, and he doesn’t even move for a few moments as you swirl your tongue around his tip. You find the bead of pre-cum dripping from his slit, and lap it up indulgently.

You want more of him, so in a desperate act you begin trying to bob your head while upside down in order to travel down his shaft. Your desperation gets to Matt, and, recognizing that you want more of him, he begins thrusting his hips slowly into your mouth. Even with only half of him in your mouth, you can feel his tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, and all it does is make you want more. You wrap your lips as tightly as you can around his girth, and the hushed groans that fall from his lips tell you that he’s enjoying himself.

You begin to grow frustrated, not content with the fact that you haven’t had all of him in your mouth yet. So you reach up and grab firmly on his hips, opening your throat to allow his entire length access as you pushed him forward. Matt hissed, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock sinking deeper into your throat, and that was when he lost all control.

Matt grabbed onto the sides of your neck to brace himself before finally driving his cock all the way down your throat. He started slow, sliding it all the way down, holding it in place for a moment, and then pulling it nearly all the way out before doing it all over again; but once he realized that not only could you take all of him, but that you also enjoyed it, he started picking up the pace. He watched your throat as he fucked it, and noticed that he could actually see his cock going all the way down it; causing his vision to go blurry. “Fuck, baby.” He moaned out, his voice shaky as he struggled to not lose himself.

You were in heaven, the feeling of his cock filling your throat caused your body to flood with heat, and you couldn’t stop your hand from finding your clit and rubbing it in rhythm with Matt’s thrusts. Noticing your hand, Matt quickly swatted it away before replacing it with his own; the softness of your wet cunt enough to cause his cock to twitch; threatening to shoot his seed down your throat. But he didn’t want to cum; not until he felt all of you.

In the blink of an eye, he pulled his dripping cock out of your throat; causing you to gasp for air. Before you had the chance to question anything, he grabbed you under your arms and pulled you off of the dryer before slamming you against the wall in the hallway. The wind was knocked out of you, but Matt didn’t give you a minute to recover before lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist; keeping you pressed to the wall. His mouth found yours again, and the taste of you on his explorative tongue was enticing. With his mouth still on yours, the tip of Matt’s cock practically finds your opening itself, and it was so hard he didn’t even have to stabilize it with his hand before it slipped into you; stretching your walls and filling you up completely.

As soon as he bottomed out, he released a deep, guttural moan that echoed in your ears. Fighting a moan of your own, you grabbed the back of his neck. “Shh!” You whispered, looking into his eyes through droopy eyelashes. He snapped his cock into you. “You didn’t seem too concerned with staying quiet last night.” Matt’s words were strained as he tried to control his thrusts. Still looking at him in the eyes, a sinister smile crosses your face at him actually wanting to talk about last night for the first time.

He picked up on the reasoning behind your smile, and he snapped his hips again; causing you to yelp. “So you did want me to hear, hmm?” His head moved to the crook of your neck, and his lips against your ear caused goosebumps to raise on your skin. As he thrusted into you, all you could do was nod. “Do you know — ah fuck — do you know how bad my cock has been aching for you all day?” His words caused the pressure in your stomach to triple, and the thought of him being desperate to be inside of you caused your back to arch against the wall.

“M-made me feel like a creep all day, and for what? Hmm?” Matt grabbed your jaw and made you face him. He continued driving himself into you as he stared lustfully at your face. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip and you opened your mouth; letting his thumb fall in before wrapping your lips around it and sucking innocently. “Fuck baby,” He grumbled, watching your lips as your tongue swirled around his thumb. “Tell me.” His eyes were pleading with you, and you knew he was close, but he wasn’t gonna cum until you told him the truth. “W-wanted you to k-know what it’s l-like — fucking me. Wanted y-your cock h-hard for me.” You managed to tell him the truth. “Jesus Christ.” Matt moaned out in response, grabbing the base of your hair before slamming his cock in and out of you faster than he had before. Each time his cock hit your g-spot, your head slammed against the wall behind you; adding a new intensity to the fast-approaching orgasm you were feeling.

“Shit, gonna cum. Where do you want me?” His voice was ragged, as was his pace, and the desperation laced throughout the sloppiness drew you even closer to the edge. “As deep as you can get Matty.” You whispered in his ear just before you were overtaken by your own orgasm. As he continued to thrust into you, you felt your walls convulse around his girth. Your legs wrapped even tighter around his waist, toes curling as the waves of your orgasm crashed around you.

As you were still in the middle of cumming all over him, Matt suddenly snapped his cock hard and deep into you; spilling his seed deep in your guts, just like you asked, as a deep ragged moan fell from his mouth. Your hungry cunt milked his dick dry, and the intensity of filling you up with the nut that had been debilitating him all day was like no other orgasm he had ever experienced.

You could feel his cock twitch repeatedly as he filled your insides with his hot white cum, and his soft moans of pure relief in your ear were as continuous as your own as you both fell into a deep trance. As you both came down from your highs, Matt held you against the wall; brushing his fingertips softly against the skin on your upper thigh. You had never had sex so satisfying, so deliciously exhausting, and you were in such a haze that you could have easily fallen asleep right there, pressed against the wall.

But after a few moments, Matt carefully slid his shaft out of you and helped you to your feet. He took a moment to admire you, fixing your hair and pulling down your dress, before leading you to his washroom. “You’re a little psycho, you know that right?” He asked jokingly as he started the shower. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection; evidence of Matt’s touch all over you. You smiled at him as he helped you take off your dress. “I’m sorry.” You replied, to which he rolled his eyes. “No you’re not. But do me a favour, next time you want me to fuck you, just tell me, alright?”

Your stomach did an excited flip from his unexpected words, and you walked into the shower on shaky legs. Turning around to face him standing by the washroom door, you found him staring indulgently at your naked frame. You put your hands on your hips and huffed dramatically. “Okay, get in here. I want you to fuck me.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[frownyalfred]

here friend, I'll help you: when you realize the characterization isn't to your liking, go ahead and do me a favor -- scroll up to the top right of your screen and hit that big red X button. there, problem solved.

also don't bookmark it. I'm so freaking tired of having this conversation.

[kosher-salt]

Just saw a post that was basically "Hey off of the internet people usually aren't so crazy antisemitic and most of my day to day interactions as a visible Jew are normal, everything is gonna be ok" and I'm making a new post to not derail, but...

I'm super glad, obviously, that this is the case for many of you. But I do think we should be ringing the alarm bells. Because while you enjoy your grocery trips and post office in relative peace (as you ought to), here is a VERY incomplete list of things I have dealt with in the last 11 months.

-assaulted on my way to class, followed, spit on repeatedly (magen David necklace)

-professor took me outside of class and told me I needed to denounce my Judaism (I mentioned in passing my dad's family in an anthropology class)

-same professor refused to accept my final paper for reasons that did not match up with paper, email full of dogwhistles

-same professor told everyone to attend the protests and "teach those zionists to know their place" she is a Black Latina young professor. Yep.

-another professor straight up refused to accept any assignments that mentioned Jewishness (they were assignments about our families). Gave a student who submitted nothing except a picture of a Palestinian flag full marks. Failed me. I am an all As student, btw. Forced to drop.

-the chair of the anthropology department threw my complaints wabout said professors away without due process. His social media is full of blood libel.

-had to miss my finals as I could not physically get to them due to the protests

-followed and harassed in stores

-synagogue was vandalized multiple times

-called a kike while things were thrown at me

-protestors stood outside of my apartment patio with final solution signs

-new apartment, away from campus: friends of roommates harassed me constantly, to the point I could not use common spaces. Roommates told me that's his right because it's his "political view." He didn't even live there.

-new roommate moved in, less than 48 hours before she attempts to stab me, after learning I eat kosher style. "...kosher? kosher?! FUCK YOU" stab stab, etc. Bitch that was my good knife.

-the other roommates tell me to gtfo of the home I'm renting, keeping my rent ("you people can afford to lose money") and destroy a good portion of my belongings while cursing to me random nonsense about Israel. The police took 25 minutes to get there. We live in the middle of the city.

-fun fact: I had never mentioned my political stance to these people and it's not on my face-out social media (very bare bones profiles)

-been disbelieved by everyone I told this to including the police, my school, the leasing company, and my now ex best friend of 7 years

-cursed at in a store when I asked if there was a kosher section

-told nobody likes Jews because we bring down the vibe and have a victim complex. My knuckles are healing just fine after that, btw, thank you for asking! She is not.

I don't know how to request the 7th off from my school without basically incriminating myself with a threat of violence. There is no world where I just sit there when a classmate says "happy October 7th."

Hope this helps.

[gangplanksorenji]

Magnitude

Pairing: LE SSERAFIM’s Chaewon x Male Reader ft. ITZY’s Yeji

Word Count: 13,912

A/N: Hallo again Orenjideul! I don't know what or who possessed me to write this yet here we are. Thanks to @kooyabooya for betareading and the insights! Enjoy reading and hope you like this one! god this is the longest i've ever written i would need some nice hibernative lobotomy right after.

A sequel to Pulchritude

---------------------

---------------------

“Wait, this feels good—what’s happening?”

You’re in this lucid state, feeling everything is written to your own fate—you have the pen, writing your own story onto your own book yet this one feels different, and it’s more than this reality.

You break into this trance, cracking the code and guess what, the culprit was just a meter away, and down to your southern peripherals.

A faint blur distracts you from your drowsy state, far from regaining the peak state of your senses as you involuntarily call her name and hear her little chuckle. You wouldn’t expect waking up to such a delightful sight and moreover, making yourself closer to the edge.

“Hope you didn’t mind this—sorry for waking you up…” Yeji’s gaze shoots a primal instinct up in your spine, an instinct somewhat close to arousal as you quickly regain your senses to assess the situation that’s been happening.

“Hah—you’re clearly in need, Yeji.” Your voice feels raspy that usual and it’s no surprise. She smiles while still maintaining her eye contact, knowing that there’s no world she wouldn’t agree with. 

You’re in a vulnerable state, laying down as she audaciously coursed its way towards your nether region and it was clear what her need is. You could only succumb onto the pleasure she brings in every flick, twist and inevitable kiss. Her mouth never fails to amaze you and with such overwhelming factors with her expertise, it didn’t become long before your hands found the ginger blur and surprisingly, she stopped you from a leverage that just made everything fall down into utter deprivation.

It is the best of both worlds: shooting up gratification up your spine and inability to handle the situation better through a defenseless state, her body poised to assert control over you.

“No—not now—” Yeji’s hands were fast enough to stop you, and you could only utter a symphony of moans, mouth slightly agape as she continued her prowess. “—relax and let me do the work for you.”

Those words latched with lust and it illuminates on those very eyes of hers. You know this will be a long day full of secrets and surprises and for sure, it will be.

---

It’s probably the addiction that settles within her, unable to make herself deprived from the taste of you and you just succumb to her control, feeling every nerve in you invigorated with her pleasurable maw.

She takes it all and it earns a moan coming out of you, Yeji gleefully taking it as a signal to even elevate the experience and god, she doesn’t disappoint. She glides her mouth all throughout your length, glistening it with her spit and slobbering over it like it’s her last meal. There’s something about the way her pace compliments her techniques—not too fast, not too slow and focusing on how you derive pleasure, not hers.

You’d never get tired of this.

“God—fuck, that’s great Yeji…” You moan and she takes it as a compliment, dancing her tongue all over that insatiable muscle, never withdrawing and ultimately pleasing. 

You run your hands throughout her ginger hair, opting for leverage for her immaculate display of talent as she pulls up another trick that makes you weak—fondling those balls dying for a release.

She releases, and drives her attention onto those, suckling each one as she strokes your cock, making it hardly stiff and it throbs with the cool air the room permeates. You uncontrollably elicit streams of groans and pleas, calling out her name as the pleasure is stimulating you up to your limit and thankfully, you’re able to cope and fight.

“I’d need to start off the day with one hell of a breakfast.” You heard it loud and clear, and she’s not going to play, making up for the sluggishness she's shown earlier, taking you hard and fast and that was your breaking point.

You can’t even acknowledge everything she probably said as your sensitivity increases, feeling her simple touch could break you at any given moment. Her rapidly bobbing picture falls a little blur to you, just totally focused on succumbing onto the pleasure and you fall down deeper into the abyss, her in full control.

She looks at you, seeing your eyes closed, mouth able to just repeatedly groan makes her smile evidently even with your length fully plunged inside her tight throat. Her hands work like magic, around your spit-sheathed length, putting you up in a spell where you’ll ascend in no time and you can’t fathom how she’s great at everything like this—it’s heavenly sinful and rightfully wrong, because you could just feel her mouth parting away from your head and you don’t want it to end like that.

You surely hit the jackpot meeting a girl like Yeji, perfect in every inch and ultimately talented in various ways, mostly regarding the intimate scope of things but you could just assume there’s more to know about this girl. 

She gives you another chaste kiss, making you shudder in response as she utters a proposition you can’t properly decide, and it’s not helpful with the way her hands glide with such a moderate pace and the constant fondling of those balls that’s needing to be drained.

“I have options for you—thinking really opportunistically here, y’know?” Yeji’s elbows rested onto the mattress, laying onto her stomach as she didn’t stop her strokes, eyes gazed onto yours as she demanded an answer. “Would you want me to finish you, right down my throat or… ride you until you spill everything inside me—your choice.”

You’d die for a woman like her riding you like it’s her last, feeling that weight on her slam against you as she does all the work but you can’t miss out of that heavenly mouth of hers—she possibly have sucked you for god knows how long but it’s your drug that you can’t get enough.

Even with a clouded mind, the verdict was clearly decided without any hesitation.

Partly missing out of her expected tarnation with her walls clenching around you for like the third time, you utters words that seals the deal. “Your mouth, Yeji—can’t get enough of it.”

It was crystal clear and she didn’t waste time parting her lips against your swollen head again, clearly hungry for your taste as she enthusiastically thrusted herself with a pace unparalleled than before, full on the throttle. Her hands rests onto your thighs, a leverage for a greater velocity she’s evidently consistent of, not turning back as she knows how you’re getting closer to the promised land.

“Such t-talent you have there, Yeji—fuck!” And it was predominantly factual, your compliments simply fueling her for more as she works both her hands to stimulate whatever she can—those aching balls, ticklish touches and her tongue dancing around was a great element of utter gratification.

You melt under her touch, completely indulged to the pleasure as her eyes widen, feeling your persistent throbs a sign of your nearing orgasm and she doubles her efforts, hollowing her cheeks to emit a vacuum that elevates the pressure, driving you onto the edge with pace. With her commendable performance breaking your reservoir loose, you call out her name and this time, it’s different and it’s primal call for your utter need.

“Yeji—Yeji, I can’t t-take it any longer…” She knows this and she utilizes your exasperated state in bliss, not even responding to your words as she plunges her mouth deeper, nose flushed onto your abdomen as you groan beautifully. The signal was a carnal call of delight, releasing every spurt down her walls as she gags repeatedly because of it, fighting the urge to withdraw but was unsuccessful in the end. She chokes a little, coughing a little of your cum before her fingers catch it, not wasting a single drop and tasting it with a face so sullied it makes it even harder.

Her idyllic visage showing her ultimate work being a complete mess wins it all, and her day has never been better and it’s just the start of it.

“Thanks for the ‘breakfast’ you gave me—its taste never fails…” Of course it never does, fingers licking signifying utter satisfaction on Yeji’s end.

You know she swallowed it all, like the good girl that she has been all throughout the time you’ve met her. She continued cleaning you off, tongue swirling in every centimeter aiming to tidy the mess she made as her constant slurps derives the sultriest moans in you. The sensitivity is on the roof as her touch is kryptonite and with your softening cock, she knows her business is now over and let the both of you appreciate each other’s beauty for another time.

“You’re crazy at that, Yeji.”

Yeji chuckles, smiling sincerely enough to make you in awe as her crescent-like eyes accentuates her striking and beautiful face. “I just can’t help it—I already missed the taste of your cock.”

You shake your head and laughed a little, her words making you feel butterflies as the feeling are mutual, but you needed to really start the day in an acceptable fashion and can’t stay all day fucking each other’s brains out. 

“You know what, Yeji? Let’s actually get some real breakfast.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” She stands up, and away from the bed as you follow, raising your shorts up as the both of you get yourselves ready for another day, sun greeting you out as it shines once you open the window.

You never thought this would be such a riled-up start, yet you won’t complain if it’s the Hwang Yeji that greets you, the first thing your eyes would see.

---

It was surely such an exhilarating way to kick off your day, commencing her with the sloppiest morning blowjob (maybe minus the morning, it’s actually the sloppiest she’s ever been, and even your whole life) and a delectable breakfast, and it’s worth remembering as she earned her place. Hence the invigorating and promising fragments of an experience meet the inevitable obstacles, your own endeavors and your mind going in circles around it and it’s time to kill the cat for that curiosity, as they say.

You just end up on her balcony, frantically uncomfortable about the fact that she’s still not texting you—you’d say you overthink too much, but it’s a natural state of mind when it comes to being cognizant.

“Come on, come on—pick up the damn phone…” You let out breaths of impatience, tapping your foot as the constant ringing of the phone in your ear puts you in an anxious situation.

You can’t possibly wait for more hours until it’s the afternoon or whenever the sun sets because of anticipation and desperation. You walk around in circles around Yeji’s balcony as the constant ringing still lingers onto your eardrums and eventually, it ends up not in your favor.

“Why won’t she just answer my goddamn call—”

“Hey!” Yeji gleefully calls you behind the sliding door, slightly ajar as she seems worried with your agitated demeanor. “You should probably just give up on who you’re calling to—it’s been like seven minutes?”

“Yeji, this one is important.” Your voice is stern and composed but it wouldn’t break her thoughts of interrupting you.

“More important than me?” You heard her loud and clear, merely a meter away from her and that tone just exudes the spell you can’t quite fight: submission and breaking your temptation.

As much as it hurts to say that both sides are as important as it is, your soft side tends to prevail, sugarcoating a response that wouldn’t hurt her. “Both are, Yeji but like, now is not the ti—”

She closes the door gently, then inches closer towards you with a reassuring stare and caresses onto your shoulder “Come on—don’t stress yourself that much…” She then motioned herself onto your back as your eyes followed her movements, gazed fixated onto hers as her mouth inches near to your earlobe, whispering words of abstaining yourself to further tension. “Because you know what can happen if you are overdoing yourself too much and it won’t be great for you.”

She has a valid point and you’re in this state of recollection with her words of wisdom. Her slight massages on your back with her hands eases up the built-up pressure you’ve had since minutes ago and with a quick conclusion, you know she is right. “Yeah, hah… you’re right—I’m just—I just want to know what’s up with her.”

“Her?” Yeji’s seductiveness quickly fades from a piqued expression, curious about who you are calling and who she is. “Who’s her? Is it your girlfriend? Oh fuck—I’m sor—”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine.” You stop Yeji with your reassuring tone, gesturing to calm her down and there’s nothing to worry about. Such a roller coaster of events unshackled within seconds and with the tables being turned, you can’t help but feel to let off a little chuckle, and it’s even ignited with Yeji’s furrowed eyebrows and worried face of hers. “It’s really hard to explain, y’know? But just don’t worry that much about her, okay?”

“Yeah, okay… Also—” She nods before that, then Yeji’s countenance shifted onto an evident curiosity, feeling that her nerves are connecting the dots too well. “Was she the girl I saw you with at the bar yesterday?”

You almost forgot that you would totally steal glances with her at that time, luckily all being unnoticed by Chaewon (if she even cared if you caught glances with her coquette nature yesterday). You’re impressed with her adaptability to assume things that’s almost right, and there’s nothing to lie about with the given skill of hers.

“Yeah, she’s her. It’s nothing much though—we’re literally just friends.” It's a double-edged lie that you’d live with anyday, mostly on these times without a favorable conclusion to enclose onto a selected status. Like you said, her role in your life is pretty complicated in ways you can’t even explain and you won’t make yourself a burden to dissect every detail to Yeji.

Even if you had the chance, you won’t really bother to.

You dismissed the current topic and just continued to admire her pulchritude. Your stare could melt her as she smiles with a genuine lace of joy, then kissing the nape of your neck as she opens up about an experience. “Yeah, okay—I’m sorry though ‘cause like, you’re too hot to the point that I can’t resist you.”

Looking over your shoulder, her siren eyes probably does wonders over you and with that stare, you just can’t help but do the same. “The feelings are mutual, Yeji.”

You then face her and cupped her cheeks, initiating a torrid kiss that was fueling your desires over her, and they won once again. She quickly reciprocates and deepened the kiss, feeling such entanglement that yearns for need and gives out such pleasure. Your hands involuntarily seeks its way onto her waist, and her hands onto the back of your head, feeling the tension growing before pulling out of her embrace, breaking the trance which earns a definite whine escaping her lips. 

“Why’d you pull out?”

“Sorry, Yeji—” As much as it hurts to stop, you would want to as there are more endeavors important than this, and you’ll hope she understands it. “—I’ll meet someone this afternoon and I gotta go home and get myself ready.”

Yeji lets out a sigh, her hot breath brushing on your nostrils as she meets you eyes one more time, glowing with sincerity and understanding about the possible situation. “I don’t need to bother you for more time then…” 

You smile, relieved she won’t bear much of a nuisance to make you expound your reasonings. “Sorry again, Yeji—I’ll call you whenever all of this is over.”

Yeji paints a sly smile, the latter sending her limbics into delight and anticipation, knowing that you’ll be connected with hers as soon as you can. “Yeah, sure—just don’t stress that much, hm?”

It’s perplexing with such a thoughtful development over the span of hours since you met her, maybe of the reasons rewarding enough to be cherished or the intimate inkling deepening within the second. You fix your jacket, nodding reassuringly as you waved goodbye and mouthing the words See you soon before you close the sliding door.

As you were leaving her room and out of her place, you can’t help but think of what you’ve done with her yesterday and earlier this morning. With an emotion unparalleled from ever before, you let out little laughs and words of still and evident bewilderment. 

“She’s insatiable, it’s crazy.”

---

Thankfully, there wasn’t anything distracting you while driving your way home, not even the fact of a mental battle on keeping both hands on the wheel, eyes on the road while a slobbering mess is between your legs (this was supposed to happen and this was just a delusional imaginative outcome, but to your defense, you weren’t ready for such a risk costing more than what you could fathom).

Preparing yourself for what’s bound to come, you take some time to reflect on what you’ve been into—a mess worth indulging in, barely able to clean it up since the second it was ruined. As you were spraying that strong-scented perfume up the collar of your polo, your attention was diverted onto the buzz of your phone which to no surprise, is her.

kim_chaewon at 1:57 - “Meet me at the hotel where I told you to go and say the room number I told you to go, under my name, to the concierge. 4 PM, sharp and don’t you dare be late.”

Glad you have enough time for preparation but deep inside, you’re a bit conflicted on why she would send such vague details and tell them late. Well, it’s maybe of the twists and games she loves to play against you, and you won’t be surprised if she does call you and say something stupid—

“Ah shit—” Chaewon is calling you, and you knew this was going to be part of a well-written plan of hers. You know how things can boil down into the toxic pit of selfishness and need, and you can’t quite escape her leash because of you being the puppet under her string and it’s incredibly unhealthy—you want her, no, you fucking like her and her attitude wouldn’t stop you from proving her why you’re worth something more than what she’s used to see.

“You better stop calling on times like that—you know I’m still on my beauty slumber, tch.” Chaewon’s irk laced within her voice through the phone is evident and it was nothing less than expected. You gulp nervously as she lets her temper out within the phone and knowing it’s becoming too annoying, you wouldn’t sip your mouth and let her be as commanding as she is.

“Chaewon, I just wanted to ask you about it!” You raise your voice, fed up as Chaewon falls silent. You count to three, then swallow, feeling the instant regret with what you’ve done. “God, I’m sorry but you can’t keep me hanging on a thread like that.”

“What are you even trying to prove? I’ve already texted you about it, didn’t I?” It is true, but you’re trying to point out things that will probably develop her uphill and knowing her skull is as hard as titanium, your words aren’t able to penetrate through her brain to register and listen. 

You can’t fathom why you liked her in the first place, feelings probably mutual as it was deemed to be such a wicked relationship that’s even confusing. She wasn’t yours, yet but it’s only a matter of time before a verdict comes up, marking Chaewon as your territory and yours only. The roads you’re tackling stresses you out, considering how you grew something with Yeji and how divergent these are, making you suffer yet your mind yearns for both of them, can’t quite compute and let go of the other.

You are the problem, but they’re a drug you can’t quite stop to take.

You fall silent and Chaewon asserts her dominative approach with your lack of response. “See? You should trust me sometimes; I wouldn’t fail you as much as you don’t fail me. See ya’ later, I’ll even make myself appear prettier than what you think…” 

The latter is true—even if she doesn’t say so, her beauty is off the charts, alluring at its best—and somewhat, the former should be reconsidered for a while. Even with an unreadable mind that Chaewon possesses, it’s natural to be skeptical with her ways of controlling you (somewhat) but sometimes, you have to think optimistically and trust her. You’re just gaslighting yourself into thinking that she’s maybe right in every way, even if it means to dive you into a risk.

You faintly say your goodbyes as she hangs up immediately, letting out a breath as you’re punishing yourself for such a minimal act of regret. “Well, I shouldn’t have done that but this should be fine…”

As you should, it’s not a big deal on her end possibly and she’s not that kind of an immature, selfish woman that would take your little outbursts like something as a threat.

---

The staggering heights of the buildings around made such a metropolitan experience complete, and it’s even elevated with the luxurious ambiance the hotel exudes as you went inside it, the lobby doing wonders to enthrall its guests. 

You wouldn’t really waste time being in awe with the glamorous chandelier or the exquisite art the tiles have because you have a goal in mind: meet her at the designated time, not a second off or sooner. 

You roll off your sleeve, fixing yourself by a little as you advance towards the front desk, approaching the concierge as he meets you with a smile in which you subtly appreciate.

“Hello, excuse me—yeah. Room 018, for Ms. Kim Chae-won?”

His eyes widened, even enthusiastic as he was more eager to help you as soon as he heard the number of the room. “Oh yes sir, a presidential suite? I’ll just check the room again for further security and… may I get your name?”

You then say your name as you wait patiently, the concierge tapping onto the screen multiple times after he informs you that you’re now able to access the room. 

“And you’re set, sir! Here’s the card and that will be on the 40th floor.”You then thank him as he gestures a bow, uttering the words Enjoy, sir as you take the elevator hurriedly, tapping the buttons and getting in it as soon as they open.

You’re not going to sugarcoat it—you’re nervous. Feeling it onto an extent underlying anticipation more than the deterioration of confidence. It was a natural instinct when discovering new heights, and you reassure yourself with that given fact within the second you’re a floor higher. It was quick, less than a minute since there wasn’t a stop and you could only sigh as the elevator dings and opens.

You traverse down the corridor as the signs help in which way the rooms are. Left then right, walk a couple of steps and there meets the lair of the vixen—the room where anything could possibly happen, every achievable outcome that could possibly come into life.

You knock at the door, signaling your presence as you unlock the door with the card the concierge gave you, and there she is, at the other end, in all black of an outfit, facing opposite from you as the dark bob accentuates elegance and sophistication, before spinning her chair and welcoming you. 

Chaewon looks at the time on her phone, raising an eyebrow as she leisurely nodded. “Not too bad for you, hm? Take a seat, please.”

You then walked your way inside, aiming to sit on the couch as soon as she glared with a subtle gesture of her head, uttering something, “No, sit here—beside me.” Her index finger points onto the tall stool at the center table besides hers and you advance towards it, then facing her, your eyes scanning every inch of her impeccable features.

This kind of wardrobe is new to your eyes, and it’s a sight to see a refreshing set of fashion that was clearly unfamiliar at most times—you’d say she’ll almost let a skin on her exposed whenever she dresses up and will almost make herself look hotter than hell. You’re always vocal when complimenting her and you wouldn’t impede such flowery words from spilling out of your mouth. “God, Chaewon, this fit looks great on you—it truly is.”

She smiles with your words, you eyes telling the truth as she stares at them and of course, this is the best way to start the day with her. “Of course I do—” She proceeds to make a move, standing up, drawing herself closer to you as her eyes dart towards your chest and onto your eyes, letting you know how much she appreciates you being here even though it’s barely vocalized. “You look great too, honestly.” 

Chaewon’s close—dangerously close, inches away as you drown onto those alluring eyes of hers, getting lost into the dark abyss it holds and your next move wasn’t surprising to say the least: your hands making its way towards the hem of her blazer, and onto her slender, tight waist as her hands stop you, lips parted as she shook her head lightly, enough to bring you the message. “Well, that’s reserved for later—”

“How so? We’re already here—”

She interrupts you with an audible shh, smirking enticingly as her disposition is clearly ambiguous, and you can’t quite tell where she’ll indulge you. “You’re still up to my test—we’re still not done and you’ll have your reward when you’ve proven yourself.”

“Prove myself? Aren’t those enough of a statement?” You’re in little disbelief, shaking your head as you feel your efforts yesterday weren't enough and she knows it. 

Speaking of that, you should probably ask her about what you’ve done yesterday, assuming she might have eyes on you secretly that you weren’t aware of. You’re probably deluded to think about how she could do that to you but yet again, Chaewon’s that kind of girl.

Possibly set aside these thoughts and snap yourself into reality with her words. “I’ll just say it again—we’re still not done, am I right?”

You sigh, embracing defeat as her point is valid and true, and you won’t break the rules nor a promise between both parties. “You’re right, Chaewon, okay?”

“Of course I am.” Hubristically speaking, she knows she is right, even if you admit her confidence was doing the talking. She then distances herself from you, seating on her stool, picking some grapes for her plate as she munches on them, then inviting you to join her. “Help yourself here; grapes, juices, water or some biscuits—anything that can treat your hunger.”

You’re in little disbelief and hypocrisy, unsure on what she’s implying “What? I’m not that hungr—”

“Hey—” Chaewon shows a discontented demeanor, knowing lying through your teeth wouldn’t help you nor defend anything. “—if your stomach ain’t yearning, screaming for it to be fed then I wouldn’t say that otherwise.”

She draws the plate of grapes towards you with her hands, raising an eyebrow, signaling you to get some and help yourself. You wouldn't say another no because she knows you’ll be lying again, so you picked a couple and tossed one in your mouth, feeling the sour and sugary essence of the fruit revitalizing you, little by little.

“You’ll need energy for later—” Chaewon says, as she takes a sip from her glass full of some blueberry juice, looking at you with a seductive intent. “—and this—this will be a long day, for both of us.”

You’re clearly in the mood to set up a fire between the both of you, imagining the possible futures within both your accords—mostly Chaewon’s, but you won’t be bothered by that. “For now, you gotta help me shop for a—”

“Wait, Chaewon—” With all the introductory endeavors set for the both of you, you interrupt her with simple words that have been ringing in your brain since yesterday. “—may I ask you a question?”

Chaewon scoffs a breath, eyes interested with what you’re going to ask her. “Go on.”

“According to the text yesterday, how did you know?” It was straightforward, a little vague but she got what you’re asking her. It’s flummoxing knowing how she can act like a prophet but in reality, it wasn’t, and you’d like to know the reason behind such an act.

“Ahh—that?” She sips again, exhaling a fresh, fruity breath as her tone is more vibrant but still laced with her usual elegance. “Well, it’s a simple trick up my sleeve and I know you wouldn’t find suspicion through it.”

You scrunch your eyebrows by a little, a little confused on what she’s implying but you thought of a concept. “Did you just wait for me outside? What does this me—”

“Well, here’s the thing: I pretend to leave the bar and you didn't even notice if my figure was behind the door as soon as your eyes darted for someone. I watched from a distance, disguising myself against the flickering lights the stage provides and the dimness of the surroundings—” Chaewon leans into you, closer as your lips are inches against your ear. “—and I watched the both of you.” And then after that voice of her tickling you slightly, sending shivers down your spine, she leans onto her stool, but not enough for her to fall—just balanced. 

“That’s all? Could never know you can be such a voyeur—”

“Not really and yes, I like watching people go all out while I just sit there and let them unveil their true nature. Well—” Chaewon clears her throat, fixing her blazer and she isn’t done, her doe eyes hypnotizing you, making you listen under her dulcet voice. “—I saw the way you talked to her, those subtle glances and fun between your words was enough to make a conclusion—you passed the test. As soon as the both of you got up to your seats, went up to the balcony with god knowing what you'll do to her—oh…” She gets up again from her seat, facing you closer with her head slightly raised and there her breath tingling against your lips, brushing against your nose. “I know exactly what you would be up to. I wouldn’t waste my precious time watching you even from afar and let yourself be redeemed with what you can do.”

Your eyes are just fixated towards her, earning a little gulp from your throat due to her intimidating demeanor. “You’ve impressed me ever so slightly… And let me ask a question in return.”

Still inches away from her, you would just embrace what she’ll ask as you’re not in any authority to decline what her lips may escape. “What is it?”

“Did you fuck her?”

A question enough to stun you, reek fear within your skin as you can’t decipher her—it’s your kryptonite: her nuanced emotions unable to make your wonders be applied in certain situations. Was this still part of a test? Did she read your brain easily to come up with an assumption too right? It is an aligned possibility, these questions will be answered by her, and it’s for you to embrace it.

“Fuck… her? Why would you think I f—”

“I asked you a question—” Chaewon sips another desirable amount of that liquid, before smashing the glass a little too hard on the marbled table that made you feel a little nervous. “—didn’t I?”

Yes. Chaewon asked a question and all you need to do is answer it, plain and simple. You can’t dodge the mere thought of detouring the topic or even at least acting oblivious—the little shivers on your bottom lip says otherwise, and the defensiveness of your tone doesn't help with your persuasion. “But h-how are you even sur—”

“Okay, you don’t need to tell me anything anymore and don’t worry—” Chaewon’s hands caresses your waist, feeling a little tingle up onto your groin as her touch enables you into a reassuring plane, fending off the stress out of your body as the latter words falls right onto your ears. “—I won’t even be mad if you did it because I know you did and god, she’s pretty and sexy. Sometimes, you gotta be studied, y’know?”

Chaewon is steps ahead of you, as lying was too obvious to be kept shackled. You’re still unsure, feeling a little tick in your brain saying that she’s maybe just playing games with you and her emotions aren’t as sincere as you thought it would be as soon as she said those words.

“You’re not mad? Or anything?”

Chaewon sighs, a stoic expression paints her face as you find her deceiving and confusing. “So you admit that you fucked her, hm?”

“I didn’t say that I—” Chaewon’s fed up with your lies and she had to do something if she wanted to make a word for herself. Shutting you up with her hand, your eyes widen as you try to writhe, but you know that’s putting a nail to your coffin, and just being immobilized is the way to brush this off. Her disappointed and infuriated stare towards you earns another struggling gulp from you, which she took it down as a sign of asserting her dominance. 

“Another lie, I’ll make you see who the fuck I am.” It was churlish and candid, and you just nod in response, fearful that another volcano may spew out its anger. She smirks in total control, as she releases her hand onto your mouth and impressively, she returns onto her intimidatingly stoic and sophisticated demeanor, then continuing what you interrupted earlier. “Shall we explore and shop, hm? I’ll even treat you if you want…”

Of course, all you can do is nod and utter, “How could I resist that?” in which she likes and it’s genuine with her smile.

She’s right in every way—this day would be long for the both of you and you’re ready for what's about to come.

---

Expensive bags, new shoes, fashionable clothes, exquisite dinners and kilometer-long walks around the malls could never go wrong and all so right. It was a time well-spent between the both of you as it’s been a while since you’ve had some wholesome moments with her, even just in the slightest bits of it. 

This was just the tip of the iceberg because she has more in store for you, and a great way to end the night is in another place where it concludes down into madness, and it’s just the best of both worlds. 

“Really? In another club, Chaewon? We’ve been onto something like this yesterday…” You’re a bit disappointed it will all end up on this note, probably walking out with a drunk-dazed state and the absolute predicament: you having to carry Chaewon out because of such a drunken state you can’t tell.

Let’s just hope this thing of hers never meets that fate.

“Hey! It’s pretty great here honestly—I heard their snacks are top-tier, so I wanted to try it and let me tell you, yesterday was a bar, not that.” Chaewon corrects you and persuades you with all her might and you, a puppet, can merely do anything to reject her advances and honestly, she’s maybe up to something you can’t quite tell. 

“Same thing, Chaewon—”

“Hey it’s not! Also—” Chaewon tiptoes a little, brushing her lips oh-so close onto your earlobes as her breath whispers, “—I wanted to try something, in correlation to my final verdict.”

Well, if this is what it takes to prove yourself, then maybe you just need to embrace it.just need to ride with her highs.

“Let’s get in—I already reserved a seat for us both.” You then follow Chaewon, showing an actual identification card to the bouncer and traversing towards the dim hallway where the fun begins, and it’s already lingering within your eardrums with the ebullient sounds of such music. 

You anticipate with what she has in store, in full trust under her own accord as here it goes, an adventure of a lifetime.

---

You wouldn’t say an adventure, moreso, a memory but this one is audacious, risky and adventurous. Chaewon’s advancements towards elevating an experience is merely a branch in boredom, but rather, a connection towards amusement—her brain somewhat makes up such exhilarating events to be experienced, most likely in ways unorthodox to others.

The common noise didn’t get your sense preoccupied, taking onto the mouthwatering cheese-flavored nachos, crushing two pieces of it and licking your fingers due to its flavorful taste, then averting your eyes towards Chaewon as she calls your name. “What is it this time?”

“Enjoying the food, hm?”

“You know, Chaewon?” You fix your seat as the boisterous music distracts you slightly, a little bothered but that doesn’t faze the fact that she’s heard things right. “You’re right as I think about it—the food here is delicious. You seem to be enjoying your drink a lot, huh?”

Chaewon chuckles a little as she covers her mouth, flipping her hair as her features astound you, elegant even with her subtle actions. “Of course, a tangy and sweet cocktail could always go right—no doubts.” She then takes a hurried sip, the concoction hitting just right as she feels refreshed and satisfied. As the both of you are comfortable eating, a thought in your brain ignites, a shard from the earlier remarks that was left unattended until this very second.

“You said you wanted to try something, right, Chaewon?”

Her pupils dilate, lips slightly parted as she places down the glass down the table, and piques her total attention. “Oh well, about that…” She places down her purse on the table, crossing her legs as she shifts onto her smug behavior, confidence seeping out in every breath she exhales. “We gotta take this somewhere else—somewhere no one can see us.”

Those words alone were a fragment of utter lust and anticipation and you can’t miss that out. Her aphrodisiac tone was enough to invite, moreso her gestures that concluded the start of an act. 

You smile, a slight one laced with expectations defying heights. “Lead the way then and I’ll show you something too.”

You’ll let her but you’d like to finish anything first so you’ll have enough energy left in the tank, if it goes the other way you’ll expect.

---

It’s probably the climax of the music that was faint on both your ears, the room sequestering the background noise enough to avert your attention towards her. You take a moment to scrutinize her features, every inch a candy to your own liking.

Your hands finally ran onto her waist, caressing it a little as you eye on her with such admiration. “This outfit is just too good for you, Chaewon.”

Chaewon chuckles, and the both of you meet eyes as she replies with your piece of a broken eulogy. “You’ve said it for like ten times—you really liked it, huh?”

You shook your head, letting her know there’s more for her to be aware of. “No, Chaewon—I fucking loved it—everything—I won’t shut up about this.”

“But you can make me.” Her breath shudders once you hold your other hand onto the hem of her pants, feeling the curve of her butt inviting you to fondle it deeper but you resist, just how she wanted for now. 

“I’ve always wanted to say this for a long time now and for your final test…” Your eyes scintillate in lust and excitement, feeling her words will line up to the thoughts you’re thinking. “Break me.”

Break her. 

Seven letters, two words, numerous implications that can underlie an ambiguous approach that could always defy expectations. Here’s the thoughts you managed to come up with: either she wants you to break her in half (metaphorically) with your cock or break her usual classy, sophisticated demeanor.

Both can be applied, and it’s up to your own accord since you know you’re in control right now, Chaewon slowly submitting to you.

And it wasn’t even a second before she couldn't resist herself—you’d just feel her swollen lips meeting yours, entangling into such fervor no one can match. The taste of her lips is succulent and you're addicted to it—the apple-flavored does wonders, but it’s mostly the fact about the delightful chemicals messing up with your brain, optimistic and yearning for more.

Her arms rest on your shoulders, as yours caresses her waist, feeling every inch of her porcelain skin and how smooth it is everytime you caress it. It was a little platonic at first, but when you reciprocated deeply, you know there’s more than that and she knows it.

It hurts, but she needs to pull out to catch her breath and to clear her headspace because this wasn’t part of her plan—it was evident she got carried away, her actions tell those otherwise.

“Why the fuck do you always kiss me so good?”

You laugh, an evident hubris on your face that she found slightly annoying but there’s nothing she can do. “Maybe I just can’t help it that I’m kissing the Kim Chaewon. ”

A name worth remembering, and you absolutely will as she’s a remarkable and paramount part of your life now. 

“Shut up—can’t fucking wait to feel you inside me—” She’s impatient, vocally frustrated as you’re not fulfilling her desires. You always know how she always gets what she wants, having authority to make everyone her puppet but this time, the tables will be turned in your favor and you’d be smiling standing on your own ivory tower. “—what are you waiting for?”

“Patience, Chaewon—patience…”

“The hell do you mean patience—ow!” A harsh spank brings sting onto her, enough for her to feel and for anyone to hear but it’s muffled thanks to the clothing of her pants that you’re dying to undress. “Look at you—spanking me hard now, huh?”

“Yes.” You’re imperative and stern, gaining authority over her slowly as she’s starting to snap herself to reality. “And I wouldn’t hesitate to do so because I know you like this.”

You know she does, even loving it as it starts with her biting her lower lip with such a slap was enough for a conclusion.

“God, I always liked this, y’know?”

“Getting handled in a restroom?” 

“Not exactly that—” She inches closer towards you again, looking from left to right as her actions draws attention for you to be all ears. “—it’s mostly the fun of a risk—risking to be caught while I get pounded into oblivion.”

You sigh, a sinister smile curling your lips as this fetish of hers is somewhat amusing, to say the least. “You wouldn’t mind getting caught? Let the world know how much of a slut you can be?”

Here’s the thing: you’re trying to prove a point here, risking a reputation for the people who don't know you is somewhat important in a way, knowing how privacy can still be important so you’re skeptical of the repercussions of her own lustful nature.

“Don’t worry—” She tilts her head slightly, flashing a genuine countenance which reassures you slightly even with your venomous words that unleashed your other corrupted side. “—all of these fall down into a clandestine ending—just the both of us, nobody else, just us.”

Well, you’re pliant under her spell and you’d like to make her taste with your own medicine yet with all of these, you’re easily persuaded by her. There’s no other way to start such a spectacular act with her words of a green light. “At least getting your cock wet would do such a wonderful thing, won’t it?”

You hitch a breath, agreeing on what she’s about to show as you trust her expertise. “Of course, now do your wonders, Chaewon.”

She pauses, raising an eyebrow as she is probably hesitant with your profounded commanding nature. Of course she’s not used to this, but you’ll love to make a blissful introduction that lets you know that you’re deserving. 

“At least undress yourself for m—ow, ahh, what was that?” It wasn’t a spank this time, rather an aggressive grab onto her wrists, which caught her off-guard. She didn’t retaliate nor glare at you and it was surprising, since her expressions were far from what you expected: showing a faux class, eyes glistening in lust and fading of her so-called sophisticated demeanor. 

“You do it, Chaewon, but not here…” You point to the vacant bathroom stall for further privacy, and as much as she doesn’t care about it, you wouldn’t agree to her terms and had no choice but to follow your own accord.

She looks onto her shoulder, smirking as she knows where this can end. “Want it tight and confined, huh?”

“Hah—of course—” It's probably your guilty pleasure, a thing that should be addressed more often with her as it has its own advantage in favor of you, and you’ll enlighten her about it. “—so it won’t be much of an effort to handle you.”

Chaewon’s apparent shock at your shift of attitude impresses her, and she can’t wait to see what you can show her. “Oho—then let's get started.”

---

It’s rightfully confined, still enough for the both of you to move and her dexterous hands never fails you, undressing the clothing hastily and onto the cold floor. As her hands traverse its way onto your boxers, she asks for a favor in which you find bold considering the given circumstances. “Please hold my purse—”

“No.”

“No?”

“No—you find a way.” She looks up, annoyed with your own authority and the tone that’s laced with it—like you said, you'll get her used to her own doing, her own medicine. She reaches down to the floor to place her purse, only for her wrist to get caught up at the last second, informing her own what she should follow. “You’ll warm up my cock while holding that, is it clear?”

She rolls her eyes, finally grasping the situation as you get up off her nerves yet you didn’t care, not when she wanted that beast inside you for god knows how long. “Fine, whatever you want—yes…”

With only a single defense ready to be worn out, you fix your posture and prepare yourself for the inevitable. The tent only grew larger as she caresses it with care, dainty fingers tracing the outline as you voice out your frustration immediately. “Fucking undress me, Chaewon.”

It’s probably the first she’s been treated like this and this wouldn’t be the last—you’ll let her know how you work your expertise, wonders in the highest of ceilings. 

She complies, nodding as her hands yanks your boxers off and god, the sight—it’s possibly imprinted in her brain even though the mental image of your length is deeply buried within the depths of her mind. 

You moan, the swollen head meeting the cool air permeating in every corner as her hands made your breath shudder in response. “Now suck it.”

You have the vaguest of clues to open up a reliable reasoning—how is she this obedient under your accord when her touch falls you weak on your knees? It’s contradictory and it’s wonderful, a sight worth remembering as your spell falls effective at her end, parting her lips onto your leaking head that would matter at any given moment.

It’s agonizing, torturous and whatever-the-fuck of an abundance of euphemisms you can come up with and it’s gratifying, up your deepest nerves. Her tongue darts and swirls around the mushroom tip, earning moans that you won’t bother shackling and with a given encouragement, she dives deeper as her pace is more evident. She’s talented and gifted, like what she always said between a sexual tension and she doesn’t lie—her lips enough can make a statement, what more about the set of lips—

That’s stored for later but for now, you need to savor the moment until it lasts.

A talented mouth paired with a dancing tongue is almost lethal, making you unable to think straight as she’s way ahead of your league—possibly in a good way, and you’d like to adapt with her skillful oral intermission. 

Yeji and Chaewon could rival each other in terms of technique and pacing, and clearly, Chaewon’s sets of skills was far from the rest and it doesn’t help that she’s taking you deeper, spit covering all over your length as she pulls out, feeling the hint of repugnance that she most likely despises.

“God—fuck, it’s so messy—” Her hurried slurps marks her apparent modesty even in the engagement of such a sinful act and you didn’t care about it—as selfish as you sound, the pleasure your experience should come out in priority. “—you’re ruining my lipstick mar—gwah!”

It wasn’t a struggle fulfilling your desires, not when she’s talking as your cockhead rests between the muscle of her tongue—she gags a little with your profound harshness as she’s evidently caught off-guard with it. She glares and you don't care (again), not when she ups the ante, pace driven with unbridled lust and little-to-no care about the mess she makes.

“What a fucking mouth you have, Chae—” Grunts, moans and subsequent groans leaves your lips as the pace was just right, swirling her tongue as she thrusts herself deeper. The inevitable drool seeping out of her mouth and it dripping onto her pants is the cherry on top—her mouth is just heavenly and perfectly soiled, just how you liked it.

This wasn’t part of the show, on how messy she is—no, this was a pleasurable accident, clearly written thanks to your own accord. She locked her eyes on you, hollowing her cheeks, bobbing frantically and god, the sight is immaculately sinful as every second that passes feels surreal. 

Possibly, you’re thinking selfishly right now and unable to register some sort of concern and why would you be? This is what she wanted anyways, and you won’t stop her until she’s an indistinguishable, sullied mess of a woman between your legs.

She grips your thigh harshly with her right hand, a leverage as she impale her throat with more of you throbbing length. She’s hungry and slobbering over it and the sight was enough for you to meet an unparalleled demise which you would love to happen in the latter stages. Her technique sets up the standard of a spectacular blowjob and you would reckon she’s the best of them all—she could totally rival Yeji, and your judgment couldn’t be reliable since it’s too biased with her mouth hugging your cock tightly.

She takes you in, whole, nose buried onto your abdomen as gags are apparent and to her own experience, she managed to tame it as she displayed her talent once more. Tears flow down her cheek with her own actions, ruining the makeup she probably spent an hour on but it didn’t matter because it’s gradually turning you on.

“God—f-fuck, that’s just great there, Chaewon.” Her patterns of pleasuring you are somewhat predictable and audacious, clearly deprived of your taste as she alternates from taking you all in and her oral expertise.

All great things must come to an inevitable end, despite how successful it became and you can feel it within you.

Chaewon releases her mouth out of your succulent cock, panting as her face is flushed red, the vicinity of her mouth a seeping mess that compliments her pretty visage. “Fuck—I can’t get enough of your cock, y’know that?” Of course it’s rhetorical as she repeatedly slurps on your shaft, standing up to the words she spilled. 

As much as it hurts to put an end to this show of hers, it would be a great decision as you’re dying to live up to the main climax of events that would be surely worth both of your time.

Well, you guess she likes to dance while she party, but this would be the last dance for the day, for now.

“Chaewon…” You call out her name, falling deaf on her ears as the music of her slurps and slobbering outpowers it. You’d like to make her hear the message loud and coherently, clearing your throat and raising your voice. “Chaewon!”

Her pace gradually slows down, hindered with your voice as she pulls out and meets eyes with you again, back to her unbothered demeanor even though it’s all sullied with her spit and her makeup due to the tears she made. “Dying to fuck me, hm?”

“Get up.” Not even acknowledging her question, you’re straightforward with it, your words enough to build up an answer because she made you feel this way. “Hands against the wall, bend over and don't do anything stupid.”

She’s ready to comply even though there’s doubt permeating all over her—she hates being commanded yet this is her guilty pleasure and you’re glad being on the front row of such a rare find. Rhapsodies of anticipation glisten on her eyes as soon as you meet them into a distant contact, and you just know how much she’s liking this. You detest the confined spaces, the limited movement impossible to experiment on things but this an exhilarating challenge and you can’t wait to start it.

“That should be my line—ow!” Her voluptuous butt gets another spank in which she deeply appreciates despite her glare towards you as she looks back, onto her shoulder. You drool with a magnificent sight of her backside accentuated thanks to the tight, black pants she wore, caressing each side of each which earned a moan coming out of Chaewon’s mouth.

“Strip it out, p-please.” She’s pleading now, desperate for your touch and clearly breaking that class that’s in her. There’s no class in such a sinful circumstance, and Chaewon knows it well, not giving any fuck is she got to be the messiest she’s ever been.

You tease her, darting your fingers slowly to the edge of her ass, tugging the clothing that made her elicit a small whimper, and then teasing your index finger near her nether region. The heat it emanates makes your cock throb, imagining how spoiled she’s been under her garments.

She’s utterly frustrated, gritting her teeth and losing her patience by the second. “What the fuck are you doing—ow!”

“I’m in control here, Chaewon—” You lean on her after another spank, letting her know that all she needs to do is obey as she’s powerless against your own control. “—and I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

Her breath quivers, a sigh right after as she’s enlightened enough to shut herself from complaints for the time being. “Okay, j-just fucking strip me please—god, please—ow!”

Another one, striking her twice as hard within your own volition—a choice to punish her repeated protests. She whimpers with your roughness, feeding pleasure through the pain and as much as you don’t want to agree with her, you need to have a sight of those delectable ass and thighs of hers that’s been dying to be touched by you (possibly).

Finding the zipper of her pants, she yelps with your cold touch meeting her skin and as much as she wants to help you, she rests her hands completely onto the wall because there’s nothing that she can do but to embrace the unstoppable force. 

You could only think of the numerous complains she has on her mind right now, and you’re going to fuck it out of her—you live up to a promise, marking your words.

Finally, you peel the clothing off, smoothly undressing it and down to her ankles as you mentally drool over the meal that’s served in front of you. 

Your fingers course its way onto her radiating heat, earning an inviting moan as she’s too easy to read now. “Fucking wet, huh? I knew you’d always be like this around me.”

Chaewon struggles a little due to the pleasure streaming down within her but manages to articulate words with even the hint of elegance and vulgarity. “Who wouldn’t be this fucking wet if it weren’t for that big dick of yours, hm?”

You feed your ego—she’s right, factual as it's evident whenever she sees your promised treasure being savored by her.

You peel off that black-laced thong of hers as the sight of something unexpected surprises you: you could see a black-colored buttplug buried into her ass, the crystalized tip just hanging out nicely and this sight just made everything worse for the better.

You push down onto it, slightly earning a guttural moan from her as the amalgamation of pain and pleasure mix harmoniously, derived and taken wholeheartedly. “Feeling kinky, huh, Chaewon?”

“You k-know me—ahh, fuck, that’s great!” You continue teasing her with the plug, and the other doing an exquisite job between her folds which just puts her in a position of no-return. Clearly there’s no return in her current state: desperate, horny and weak, something that no one could ever take a sight of except you—maybe, only you can make her shift into this kind of façade and it’s outstanding.

“Just put it in, please—ow! Hmph…” Her body fully recoils with your strike, feeling more of that pain because of her exposed white, pristine skin that you’ll love to spoil. 

You would warn her but you know that she knows that she’s making these pleas and a disturbance to your authority intentionally to draw more spanks that just makes her folds wetter, and you can feel it with its constant squelches. 

You can’t tease her long enough because of your growing deprivation and frustration on your side, so with a single hindrance towards a climactic turn, you open your lips to mutter a consent. “You ready, Chaewon?”

“Of course I’m fucking ready for you—ahh—ah, god, oh!” The green light was said sooner, and you waste no time with the given opportunity. Albeit, this wasn’t more of an opportunity, but rather a necessity as this was planned beforehand and there’s no surprise with that.

No surprises but you just had it earlier—what a woman you are Kim Chaewon.

You plunge it deeper, almost up to the hilt as you draw back and slam again, the sounds resonate around the stall which nobody would probably care about. You grip her hips, stabilizing control as you continue your pace. “Chae—this pussy is something else.”

She moans in response, unable to think coherently yet she manages to still come up on an articulate response. “It shouldn’t be surprising a-anymore—you always love the way my walls hug around that big cock of yours.”

It’s mesmerizing to say the least—her words feel like a switch in you, flicking and activating something when the time comes and you love every second of it. You continue your pace, ramping up as time ticks and so is your harshness. You tend to alternate between spanks and thrusts, making her clench tightly around you and wince in pain, biting her lower lip to fight the sudden surge of emotions.

Her repeated cries and encouragement go well together to cook up a fuel that’s raging you to display your fullest potential—each thrust makes her yelp and moan uncontrollably, concerned with the fact that someone may come in and suspect such an activity inside the restroom. 

That didn’t stop you though, hammering her tight cunt like it’s your last and slapping those cheeks to ignite her masochistic side—you love the sight of a reddish mark imprinted on her skin, signifying your rapid harshness that will mark until the end of the day.

“Fuck me just like that—just—fucking—that, oh, oh!”

“Have I proven myself enough, Chaewon?” You need that answer out of her, let her know how worthy you are and how she can find nobody like you and possibly, you probably need to rail her harder than usual with a flabbergasting response. 

“You haven’t make me cum yet—it’s n-not even close yet—”

“Then why are you leaking like a faucet right now? Care to explain?” She can’t grasp the fact that she’s head over heels on you right now, and her denial is soon going to punish her for the time being, but for now, barrage of spanks will do, resulting in a rosy-pink hue imprinted on her porcelain skin that favors up to her own liking.

She continued to moan with your repetitive thrusts, aiming to fuck that egotistic and hypocrisy out of her and let her mind think of you and you only—maybe it’s working, ever so slightly with the constant submission she’s indulging in. You grasp her hips hard enough to probably bruise her, gripping on it in every thrust you do as she orchestrates such a symphony of moans that fuels you to go further.

You’re remarkable with your performance, she knows it and with her defenses crumbling down one by one, she would voice how much she loves this.

“Your—cock, fuck! So good!”

It wasn’t surprising, to say the least. She’s borderline screaming at this point as you hammer your length in her, up to hilt. The blazer probably doesn’t help with your concurrent thrusts, an annoying bit to your end and knowing how much better the sight is with most of her skin exposed, you pull her and command her to undress it and off on the floor, if she doesn't care.

“But w-why? This blazer is expe—”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” You slap those red cheeks of hers, earning a whimper and a slight writhe on her end, whining about your wants and you’re utterly selfish to see more. She finds your hostile behavior attractive because deep inside, Chaewon waited for this for so long that she never would click her interests. “Fucking remove it—I want to see more of you.”

Chaewon sighs between her moans, placing her purse down to the tank of the toilet as she struggles a little bit due to your recklessness. “F-Fuck—whatever you say…”

She’s swift with her movements, effortlessly removing the nuisance of clothing and off to the floor. You marvel with those sharp shoulders of hers as you latch onto the visible skin, peppering it with kisses as you hiss onto her ear, “This cunt of yours, Chaewon—is perfectly tight.”

She’ll never get tired of your addiction to her tightness, vocally or physically because it’s all that you’ve ever wanted. You continue with your pace, slick covering your whole length and some dripping onto the floor until something unforeseen meets the both of you, and it’s surely a humiliating experience being exposed as one. 

The door creaks as the both of you hear multiple people laughing and singing along, and your reflexes work like a cat, quickly shutting up Chaewon’s mouth with your hands as you stop with your movements, burying your cock up to the hilt. 

Chaewon’s eyes are wide, flushed as your sudden movements make her retaliate a little and let out muffled moans. Her frame reels within your control and you didn’t like this, not when you’re in the edge of risky predicament—they are just a step closer to unveil how much of a slut Chaewon is and how you’re completely wrecking her, and you’d love to make it just exclusive between the both of you, behind closed doors.

Luckily, the lock says ‘occupied’ as the penultimate defense against a force worth intimidating. You grit your teeth, leaning in to her ear as you jeer, “You fucking slut—this is what I’m fucking afraid of—you better shut your mouth and not do anything stupid.”

Chaewon would want to fight you, complain or hurt you just to get what she wants but probably, the switch inside her flickers, only nodding as she struggles to breathe with your hand still covering her mouth. You move your hips leisurely as Chaewon lets out another set of muffled moans, feeling your length inside is enough to meet her own breaking point and you’d love to restrain her sinful sounds between the both of you. 

The ebullient sounds of the people inside the restroom sends your senses elevated, fully aware of how you can derive pleasure as silent as possible and you’re grateful that every noise reverberating around the vicinity of where you are at outpowers the sounds of sex happening inside this confined bathroom stall.

You’d never know such risk would make everything exhilarating.

“I may or may not like this place more now, Chaewon.” You whisper behind her ear with such unfathomable intent, ferocious about the situation as she desperately moves her hips in tandem with your slow thrusts, your hand handling her in place and making your hands as a makeshift cuff around her wrists.

You can feel her nostrils desperately blowing heat and air, aiming to get as much oxygen to release her emotions all throughout your manhandling. You wait for a bit as you stop, keeping your length buried inside her, observing the situation down to its last, minute details. They walked, laughed and seconds right after, the door creaked open and shut, releasing your grip on her mouth, Chaewon catching her breath as she gasped for air.

“Why—hah—why t-the fuck would you do that?” Chaewon angrily asks you, and you hold her in place with another slap on those reddened buttcheeks that just made her whine for the umpteenth time. 

“Because I want to? And also—” You moderately fuck her, then leaned onto her delectable back, licking the sweat off and peppering it with kisses as her walls grew wetter, knowing that she would be close. “—you’re dying to cum, aren’t you?”

Chaewon is silent but her moans, resonating as you didn’t like her inability to respond to you. “I asked you a question, didn’t I—”

“Yes! Yes, just—please, let me cum—”

You won’t stop her, not when you gradually thrusted deeper and hard, her velvety walls inviting you to do so as you can sense her nearing climax, giving everything you can within the last seconds and—

A blissful scream escapes her lips and god, this is a sight.

You pull out within the last second, only to see Chaewon spewing liquid after liquid, onto the floor, spoiling her pants a little and yours. It probably hit her like a train, feeling weaker as she pants in pleasure and sensitivity, her legs leaving her tight frame precarious yet your strength held her to stay still. 

“Gosh—you fucked me so well, huh?” Her pride still ensues even in an post-orgasmic state, and you wouldn’t break a sweat getting it off on her with your cock completely ravaging her again as she continues her words. “Aren’t you dying to cum, too?”

Of course you are, and it’s clearly mutual and rhetorical, but you’ll let her know your own gravitas. “Of course I am but I want it somewhere else.”

It was left behind, completely forgotten but not this time, as your fingers went onto her glistening buttplug, pushing it down as her legs shuddered in response. You thrust the given material deeper as she winces in pain and moans with pleasure. 

Chaewon knows the message well and it’s surely obvious—her little laugh of victory was enough of a statement, and you’ll live enough to fulfill that.

“Of course you always wanted to shove something deep in that hole—probably dreaming, drooling, manifesting—what words should I even u—ow, what the fuck?”

Her garrulous nature is a bug in your ear, clearly annoying yet you marvel with her ability to speak eloquently given the condition—maybe you haven’t fucked her enough to get her drunk with your cock and you can’t lie, she’s a tough woman to break.

As much as you don’t want her words to register through you, you can’t help but agree with her, reading you like a book and is aware of your eyes constantly eyeing her ass as you’re wrecking her folds into oblivion.

You carnally need her, primal instincts taking over you totally.

“Can you just shut your mouth for one second for fuck’s sake?” 

“No. Why would I—ow!” Another is what she gets as you point out something straightforward, clearly yearning for more of her.

Your hands caress that bent plane of her body and then her scrumptious ass, uttering words that are ultimately ravenous. “Do you have any lube? I’m dying to fuck this tight ass of yours right now.”

You’re feral and she knows it all too well. She opens up her purse, and you’re shocked to see a small bottle that contains what you think is pivotal for the latter stages. Chaewon looks over your shoulder, handing you the bottle as you grab it swiftly and immediately avert your eyes onto that plugged puckered hole desperate for such intimate action.

It would be cruel to hand such deprivation towards her just to tease her waiting butt, not when you’re corrupted mentally to do such things no one else would think of.

And you give in, wanting the awaited climax to be worth a memory imprinted in you and hers.

Chaewon wiggles her ass, inviting you to do the unspeakable as you tell her you’re going to remove that plug, easing her anal muscles and there goes the main event. She whines, needy and compliant for you and knowing the methods of yours is empirically derived onto experience (mostly just observing her), you immediately get onto work.

You squeeze a reasonable amount onto your fingers, lathering it onto your entire length, not leaving a single inch untouched and her waiting hole, clenching as soon as you inserted your fingers in and permeating those walls with aiding lubrication. 

Her moans are as pure as honey, sweet and tangy unlike her personality—a duality balancing her as a person and not going to lie, that dynamic is a guilty pleasure.

As you were about to insert your length, Chaewon uttered the words Stop as you ultimately did, piqued on what she had in mind and clearly in the mood to let this through.

“It’s getting uncomfortable here—want you to fuck me against the mirror—”

“Right outside this stall? What if someone barges in—” Interruptions, interruptions, interruptions. Of course, anything could be considered as a risk at this point as you feel your heart skip a beat, feeling this could be the worst and the best experience of your life—best of both worlds and utterly balanced, as someone may say.

“If you don’t want to, then I’ll call this as the end of a note.”

“Fuck no.” It was audacious coming from you as you don’t want this opportunity to be wasted, not when you’re just numerous steps ahead from your victory.

“Say it…” Chaewon’s voice is seductive and it’s making you pliant, akin to your nature earlier which made you think of a choice that’s obviously having an answer in her favor. “Say it to me…”

You lean and your words spit truth. “I’m going to fuck you against that mirror, gape this slutty, tight ass as I make you beg for more.”

Chaewon’s chuckle of triumph falls audible on your ears, and you’ll comply with her needs easily. “Good, now don’t get me waiting.”

---

It is euphoric to say the least, an ounce of energy equals surges of pleasure could never go wrong. This idea of hers can’t help just to aid you, making you even harder and your pace quickening as you pound her harsher against the sink. 

You’d watch her expressions of lust any day, alongside her frame getting railed with a vision on both sides.

“God—I—your cock! Oh fuck!” This is just one of the sentences she utters that isn’t anywhere near being coherent, and thankfully you can listen to her moans instead of her bratty blabberings that result into nothingness. She wants you to be rough onto her puckered hole and you’re entitled to do so, simply because you can easily control her frame right now with your arms in authority onto hers. 

You can sense her legs about to give out, enervated with your constant pounding that puts on a smile on your face, knowing your efforts are getting somewhere and she knows you’ll take advantage of this. The tightness of her snug hole provides is something remarkable—the way it hugs around your shaft hurts and wrings out pleasure, and it couldn’t be any better.

“So—fucking tight, Chae—god!”

“Stretch me out more, p-please—fuck me s-silly—ahh!” It revolves around those sets of words: continuous praises of her ass and your whole length inside it. You release your control of your arms onto her, now gripping her buttcheeks harshly enough for a leverage to opt for a better pace. You hiss as you withdraw and bury more, feeling that inevitable surge of gratification all over you as she aids you with her relaxation of her anal walls. 

You don't care if someone barges in, not even thinking to lock the door and if that does happen, let them have a seat for what will be the greatest performance you’re about to execute.

You can feel that it’s easing up and with her green light, it won’t be a difficult decision to wreak havoc onto that excruciatingly tight yet pleasurable asshole.

“God, please—fuck me until I can’t w-walk—oh shit—fuck!”

She’s a mess in distress, totally within the submergence of your astounding prowess as you bring out an onslaught of thrust, still wincing with her tightness and that didn’t stop you. She cries for you, arms almost giving out with how she grips the sink and with this state of hers, it’s a must to take this mental picture, her expressions shown onto the mirror as a cherry on top.

You throb persistently in every thrust you do and she can feel you getting near but there are words that strokes your ego, making you hubristically out of anyone’s league, matched with hers.

“Gosh—hah—hah, I—oh, l-love your cock so much—holy shit, I’m gonna cum so hard!”

You spank and her walls restrict in regards to your own actions, making you groan with her unparalleled tightness that surely rivaled her pussy. “Cum all over the floor—I’ll help you out, Chae.”

Removing your grip onto her hips, you didn’t waste time rubbing her clit, even inserting fingers onto that sullied cunt of hers and you can feel how wet and near her anticipated orgasm is.

It wasn’t going to take longer than what you expected—clearly close and to the point of no-return, you thrust your fingers in tandem with your thrusts, earning a guttural moan (mostly a scream at this point) from Chaewon and there she goes, fully sent onto the state of a blissful trance.

She’s tighter than earlier and you can feel it, clenching repeatedly as she pants and catches her breath because of such stimulation. Picture this: Chaewon extending her weak arms onto the edge of the sink, both holes clenching as she chases her orgasm and another fountain of that colorless liquid spurts onto the floor. She squirm under her climax, legs relentlessly shaking as you hold her in place, continuous with the extension of her high as she lets out cry after cry for more but to no avail, not all things lasts forever.

She rode the high and recovered quickly, pleading you to continue ramming your length into her and to constantly be rough on her, knowing she could take it well. “Don’t s-stop fucking me—fuck me until you paint my insides white.”

She’s struggling for a bit, groaning as you never backed down nor increased this pace—it is just right, ultimately filling her up to the brim and mixing up her insides, as someone would say.

Your cock is persistently throbbing for god knows how long, dying for an euphoric release as sweat drips down on her back, opting to lick in an inch yourself closer to your own high (maybe some praise onto that skin of hers would elevate you into an heavenly ascension). Knowing how dangerously close you are, you become a primal instrument of lust, relentless and selfish with your movements as every oscillating movement sends the both of you into overdrive.

You didn’t utter a word yet an audible moan as you bury deep inside her, painting her inside white as she clench with the warmth it brings, a stream of subsequent saccharine moans leaving her lips as after you’ve spilled everything inside her, you pull out slowly and you’ve probably broke her. 

The both of you exchanged breaths as you can see her snug hole drip some with your orgasm, completely lost in the trance as she snaps you back to reality, words invigorating you as a person and your senses.

“Oh s—shit… You’ve fucked me so well—” Chaewon’s legs shudders, sore from the fucking she took as she reaches for the buttplug and gave it to you. You know what to do with the plug you have in hand, inserting it inside her puckered hole that’s probably stretched out thanks to you, and she can’t help by gleefully smile, her blissful visage clearly a sunshine between the darkness you’ve unveiled and the dim lights the restroom provides.

“It would be a waste if I’ll just let your load drip on and spoil my pants, y’know?”

You’re mute and clearly exasperated, leaning against the wall of the bathroom stall as Chaewon turns around, facing you as she’s evidently limp and your eyes quickly lock onto hers. “Got nothing to say?”

You part your lips, a breath escapes as you utter, “I never knew this idea would work—you’re crazy for this.”

Chaewon laughs as she lifts her pants up on her waist, wearing and then fixing her blazer as she faces you close, “Of course I am—now let me clean you off.”

She did her wonders and you let her take over. You’d mentally imprint this onto your brain (you’ve said this for like umpteenth times) and will never forget this moment.

But a single question arises in the midst of all of these highs: Did you earn your spot?

Only she can answer that but you’re confident you’ve passed, her holes clearly being spent locks the supposed deserving final decision.

—

It’s crazy how all of these events unfolded probably in less than a day, unable to fully register these and assess every detail because it felt surreal and too fast. You stand by it, feeling these were too good to be true but as much as you want to snap back to reality, you are walking down victorious, all within your hand’s reach and that’s all that matters.

It’s deep of a night, you’re just driving towards the hotel now after such an exhilarating day and your focus is averted onto two things: reminiscence and the road ahead.

You’re playing with the risk of death but that would be slimmer than zero—driving is just in your blood right now, and this wouldn’t be much of a sweat. Chaewon and you are in an awkward silence, looking at your peripherals to see her on her crossed legs, looking at the distance.

You’re utterly curious about her final conclusion and it’s looking like she won’t say anything so you’ll take matters into your own hands.

“Did I do well, Chaewon?”

She’s the one who’s dead silent—you know it felt ringing onto her eardrums, so when she hasn’t responded for at least five seconds you know she’s ignoring you.

“Hey, Chaewon—”

“What?” Her tone is raised up, sulking and sharp, oblivious to where her newly profound attitude is coming from. A speculation is probably because she’s incredibly tired and her usual grumpy attitude is now being a part of her mood swings. You can’t blame her if that’s the reason behind her demeanor—who wouldn’t be tired when you’ve walked for like kilometers, shopped and had the filthiest sex in a public environment known to man so you empathize.

Guess the speculation is deemed incorrect.

“What’s up with you?” 

“Nothing, I just hate how you fucked me so good earlier…” She’s brutally honest and upon that conclusion, you derived a concrete reasoning and that was the shattering of her ego.

“Well, thank you I guess—but how about—” Chaewon wails as you advance with your words and she knows she accepted defeat and handed the crown onto you—you clearly broke her apart, even got her real feeling hidden as she acts unorthodox to her natural self.

“Okay, you earned it! You did a great job with that, okay, happy?” Even though her words laces as a mock and truly insincere, you can tell she clearly enjoyed that session of yours and you don’t need to wring it out on her and would inadvertently tell how much she loved every second of that.

“Woah—Ms. Kim Chaewon is getting grumpy again, huh—ow!” She slapped your thigh as luckily, it wasn't enough for you to lose control on the wheel or something worse. You chuckle with her sulking attitude and you can’t help but find it adorable (even though she is) and even if it means to tease her rapidly.

“Yah, shut up! But honestly though…” Chaewon fixes herself, eyes onto you as she speaks up with sincerity and none of that bitchy attitude because she knows how you deserved it. “You clearly passed this test and it shows—I could never scream like that if it weren’t for that big dick of yours.”

She’s brutally honest and you love it, everything is factual and earns that little smile curling up on your lips. You smirk as your other hand finds itself towards her clothed thighs, caressing it and earning a yelp coming from her. Thankfully, she did acknowledge your actions, holding you hand as your hubris grows exponential by the second. “I’ll be grateful to fuck you that hard, anytime, anywhere.”

Chaewon’s mouth lets out a gasp, a little shocked by your latter words. “Anytime?”

“Anytime.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

You’re clear with your words and you’d let her know your commitment.

You traverse down the streets, swift with it as you stop once you get near the hotel the both of you are staying in possibly for a night or two, and she takes this opportunity to lock her gaze onto yours and it feels magnetic. Chaewon sighs deeply, and this time, with a smile imprinted on her lips and then the verdict comes after. “Well, I guess it’s official—you’re mine now.”

You don’t know where this will end and you’re playing a cat and mouse game here: what if Yeji knows about this? Regarding that, would you even confess if given the chance when Chaewon’s all over your place? Does Chaewon really consider the facts about yesterday’s circumstances and knows how this will play out?

Behind all of these questions, the truth is what follows: you’ve made this mess by yourself and you’d just know what the future may hold onto you—the angel and the devil clashing into you will tell the tales and build the roads you step on.

But right now, you’ll savor this euphoric night and it’s probably going to be better with her corresponding words sealing the final deal. “Welcome to our world—my world. We’ll have fun—so much fun...”

Fuck, what have you done, and not going to lie, you’re excited on what may happen next as this was just the tip of the iceberg—and this iceberg is a deep one, in all likelihood.

[mythicalmaven]

19 Lando fluff and smut please

Secret Desires - Lando Norris

Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️

Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"

You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.

You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.

Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando

Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?

Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.

Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.

What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.

You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂

you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.

Lando: Drunk on love 🤭

Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.

Max’s name flashed on the screen.

You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”

“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)

“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)

“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)

You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)

“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)

“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)

“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.

"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.

You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…

You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—

You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.

Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.

"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.

He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.

Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.

You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉

He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.

A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.

You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆

Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.

Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—

You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.

Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.

Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.

You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?

He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.

Lando: Yeah, sure.

But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.

You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.

Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.

Lando: Stating the obvious.

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.

You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?

Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.

He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.

Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.

You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.

He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.

You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭

His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.

Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉

You: Shut up.

He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.

Lando: Where are you?

You: In bed. Why?

Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.

Lando: Just curious. 😉

His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.

Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.

You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉

Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.

Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.

The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.

When it comes, it’s more than he expected. 

You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣

His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening? 

Lando: Yeah?

You: Yeah.

He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.

Lando: What about this? Still hot?

Your response is almost immediate.

You: Fuck, yes.

The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.

Lando: Your turn.

There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling. 

He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.

Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.

You: Good.

The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.

The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.

He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.

You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?

His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.

Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.

His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.

Lando: Show me more.

There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.

Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot

Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.

“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.

You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”

He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”

Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.

“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”

He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.

You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”

“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.

“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.

“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.

Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.

“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.

His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.

“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.

“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”

“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

“I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”

He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”

His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.

“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”

Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"

“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.

Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.

For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”

“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”

You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”

His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.

“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”

The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.

“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”

His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”

You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.

“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”

He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”

You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.

“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.

"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.

Sequel

Masterlist

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[writersdrug]

I need, need need neeeeed to know who you would picture bar owner price with 😩 picturing bar owner price has me week in the knees. I need more, how would he be around the bar when he was there? Supporting, bossy,silly? The possibilities are endless. 🥰

I'm loving how people are requesting things for the rest of the 141!!

Bar Owner!Price isn't there every day, and most often not during the actual shift. He's there some mornings, already at his desk on the floor above the pub, setting up the next inventory order and dealing out everyone's tips before Simon climbs down from his flat on the third floor. They both grunt at each other, tired and in need of a hot breakfast and some tea.

He helps set up for the shift - he likes being in the kitchen with Soap. He feels bad the man is back there all by himself, even though he says he doesn't mind it. "I get to cuss 'n bitch all I want back 'ere, sir." Still, Price spends a majority of his time back there with him, prepping burger patties and making sure everything is stocked and ready. Gets on his case about updating the menu, but Soap insists the customers like it the way it is.

Price makes an appearance on the floor every now and then, opting to help run food or bartend on the busier nights. He checks in with the regulars, leaning his forearms on the bar with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, laughing and chatting with them and occasionally offering to refill their drinks. Simon grumbles quietly about him being in the way, but Price doesn't take it to heart.

He doesn't stay late. John isn't that old, but he likes to be back at home by a decent hour. One ruined sleep schedule and he's a shot for the rest of the week. He likes to get back to his flat, make himself a sandwich and pour himself some whiskey, and be on on his sofa and reading his book no later than ten in the evening. Routines have always been a part of his military career, and what can he say? Old habits really fo die hard.

Then you came along.

You didn't just rock Simon's world - you'd gotten Price, too. Though introductions could have been smoother (you nearly beat him with a keg when he came in through the back door and scared you), he's grown fond of you. First, as a hard worker and go-getter; then, as a pretty little waitress with a dazzling smile that likes to keep him on his toes. You love poking fun at him, calling him "bossman" or "barmaster" (doesn't make sense to him, since he's hardly behind the bar - but he finds it cute). You tease him for the way he runs your food, then gets stuck at the table for five minutes just chatting up the customers. You ask him things like, "Who do you prefer, Cardi B or Nicki Minaj?" And laugh when he just stares at you with a furrowed brow. He'll happily let you tease him for being an "old" man just to hear your laughter.

Then Simon sent that photo in the group chat, and Price felt something stir in his chest: looking at you, posing all prettily for your picture, working to push your little idea out there and bring in a crowd. He's impressed, but he's also intrigued. He's got his sights on you, and he's dying to figure out more about his waitress.

"'S the post making any headway?" He asks one night, leaning on the bar next to where you sit. Your tips are finished, money waded into the pocket of your apron as you scroll on your phone, sipping on a screwdriver.

"Kinda..." You mumble, a pout on your face, creasing the skin between your eyebrows. "People are seeing it, and there are a few likes, but no one's really engaging. Not sure if this will do well."

Price hums thoughtfully, looking at your lips while you stare at your screen. He's holding back the urge to lean in and take a whiff of your perfume, afraid it might seem just a bit too strange. "Have you tried promoting it?"

You look at him, laying your phone on the bar top. "Well... I could, but..." You wanted to finish with 'it would cost money'. But then, you'd be insinuating that you expected him to pay you. You could boost the post yourself, but you'd rather not spend money on something that might flop.

"'S there a problem?" Price asked, leaning in closer to you.

"I mean... promoting a post costs some money. Like, for it to be advertised to five hundred people, you'd pay around one fifty. And I think, depending on how far you wanted the post to reach - like, literally, how big of a geographic area - that would cost even more."

Price chuckles. "You do realize how much business you've brought in since you've joined the team, hmm?"

That makes your cheeks warm, pressing your lips into a line to avoid grinning like an idiot at the compliment. "I mean... sure..."

"Go upstairs to the office and get my wallet." he says, standing up from his seat at the bar.

You watch with a stupefied expression as he walks to the POS and prints some blank receipt paper. "You- you mean it? Are you sure?"

He sits on a barstool near the kitchen door. "Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Hurry up- before I change my mind."

You don't need to be told twice. You drop your phone onto the bar and bolt towards the stairs - you stop yourself, running back to where Price sits and hugging him from behind. He lets out a surprise grunt as you do your best to smother him.

"You're the best boss ever!" you squeal. Then, just like that - you're off to the office upstairs. He preens over the compliment as he hears you leaping two steps at a time.

"Be careful." he calls over his shoulder. He sits there a moment, staring at the paper in front of him. He's surprised he hadn't accidentally thrown you off of him purely out of instinct, but he can't say he isn't absolutely delighted by the hug. It lingers in his mind, his chest still remembering your arms around him. He shakes his head, reaching forward to grab a pen from behind the bar.

His eyes meet Simon's - the man is glaring daggers, his head framed by the window in the kitchen door, mask hanging from his ear. His lips are pulled down into quite possibly the angriest frown Price has ever seen. His nostrils flare as he exhales - Price wonders what sort of insults are flying through the bartender's head right now.

He glares right back. If Simon wants something, he'll give it to him. But he'll make him ask for it, like any normal human being. John isn't going to surrender just because Ghost is huffing and puffing, expecting his boss to back away from you just because he's stomping his foot and looking menacing. But how can he be sure that Simon really wants you, more than he thinks Price deserves you, if the lad won't say anything? It's only reasonable, right?

"If you want something, Simon, say something." Price calls out, never backing down from Simon's jealous gaze.

He huffs again and disappears from the kitchen window. Price can hear shuffling and banging, followed by Soap's irritated voice: "Oi, I got it! Get yourself outta my kitchen n' go your own shite, 'fore you break my stuff."

Price sighs, scribbling down some numbers on the paper in front of him. He'll cave, eventually.

[luveline]

hihihihi! 🥹💕 i want to let you know that i adore your hotch fics! and i wanted to ask if you’d be ok—but no pressure!!!— to write one with bombshell!reader waking up from anesthesia and forgetting hotch and her are already together and starts flirting with him the way bombshell!reader absolutely would lol? thank you!

thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re sitting against a pillow with a yoghurt in your hand. You must’ve been on some sort of auto-pilot… Are you in a hospital gown?

You put your yoghurt down on the table that’s been wheeled over your lap and stare at the white-blue chequered gown creased between your thighs. Your head feels heavy. 

“You okay?” 

You drag your gaze to the source of the voice. 

Agent Hotchner sits in the chair next to your bed. He has one leg crossed over the other, but he notices your confusion and his nonchalance turns to concern. “You need help?” 

“With the yoghurt?” you ask. 

“Yeah, honey. I can help.” 

You roll that over in your mind. Stern Agent Hotchner just called you honey. 

You’ve been trying to convince him for a while that you’re someone worth being sweet to. Trying to sway him, because there are parts of him you can’t get out of your head when he’s not around. He has not yet been swayed. Honey is a hand held out you’re going to snatch. 

Hotch stands. He goes to pick up your yoghurt. 

“What, are you gonna spoon feed me?” you ask, a clumsy drawl to your voice.

“I was going to… but I don’t like your tone.” 

Is he flirting back? You must’ve hit your head. “Coward,” you murmur. Speaking of hitting your head, there’s a throbbing behind your eyes, and a dryness to your throat bordering on uncomfortable. The yoghurt was there for a reason, clearly, but you don’t have the energy in you to eat seductively. 

“My head hurts,” you say quietly. 

You close your eyes. 

“I know.” A hand touches your face. You stay very still, though your heart doesn’t. “You don’t feel too hot. Do you want a drink? I can get you anything.” 

“Your hand is so big…” 

“Not so much bigger than your own,” he says. 

“Prove it.” 

He says your name like he knows you well, which sets your racing heart off all over again. But, used to hiding from him, you open your eyes to watch him and wipe all surprise from your face. You raise your hand, and he raises his, and you press your fingers together. Your fingertips don’t reach his, his palm wider, warmer. You thread your fingers carefully into the gaps between his, your lips curling into a satisfied smile. 

Less satisfied when he closes his hand around yours. 

“You’re teasing me,” you say. 

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you lay back properly?” 

“Super, super forward.” You lay back under the pressure of his hand, stricken by the feeling that he’s done something like that before. You rest your head against your elevated pillows and have to give up —you can’t hide how surprised you are at his open touching, his face so close to yours you can see every warm fleck in his dark eyes. 

“You look startled,” he murmurs. 

“I think you’ve been bodysnatched.” 

“I have?” 

“Yes.” You nod. “I can’t keep up. And I’m usually pretty great at that.” 

“At what?” 

“Flirting.” 

“Oh,” he says, taking your hand again, pulling it toward his mouth, “you think I’m flirting?” 

“Is there something wrong with me?” 

“Not beyond the usual. You’re more lucid than they suspected you’d be, actually.” He kisses your knuckles. 

“I’ve hit my head.” 

“No, honey, you were under anaesthesia. Everything’s fine.” 

“You’ve hit your head.” 

He breathes out a laugh. “I don’t remember any injuries, but I’d love to know why you think so.” 

“You’re kissing me.” 

He pauses, lowering your hand. “Yes?” he says cautiously. 

“Would you want to do it again?” 

Hotch puts your hand on your chest. He cups your cheek in one hand, takes your shoulder into the other, and leans down to see you eye to eye. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks. You can feel the love he has for you in each word. 

Weirdly, you can feel it in yourself, too. Like, more than a crush. More than wanting him to spin you around or play with your thigh under a desk. You really love him. 

“I think I forgot you,” you say softly. 

“Amnesia is a very common symptom of anaesthesia, don’t worry.” He pulls your face up to peck you, quick but not without a gentleness that has your hands thrumming with pins and needle. “I thought you were acting strange, but I put it down to discomfort. Sorry, I imagine it’s very disconcerting to feel you don’t know me.” 

He just kissed you. “No, I know you, I just… I think I love you, but you don’t usually want me back.” 

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve always wanted you,” he says, his dulcet tenor another comfort entirely. “And I love you, whether you remember it or not. Should we try to finish your yoghurt?” 

“You really love me?” 

He turns your face to press a kiss into your eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” 

“I do–” You begin before thinking about it, and realise that you’re telling the truth. You remember that he loves you. Agent Hotchner loves you. He’s in your hospital room handling you like thin glass.  

“Well, is there much else to remember?” 

You practically smirk at him. “I can think of some things.” 

“Wow!” He leans down for another kiss. “You’re awful,” he murmurs, his smile soft on your lips. 

[criminalamnesia]

Traitor part 8

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.

let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3

thank you again!

after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.

it never ends, does it?

apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.

it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.

you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.

you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.

your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.

it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“hello?” you say as you answer the call.

“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”

you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”

you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.

“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.

she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”

you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.

why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?

your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.

laswell is coming here to do damage control.

you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.

you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.

but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?

you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.

and when you start something, you see it through.

you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.

price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.

“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”

“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.

“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.

“whatever she told you—”

“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”

price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.

“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”

“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.

“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.

“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.

and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.

you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.

like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.

on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.

in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.

when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.

it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.

it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.

and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.

what they condemned you to.

what he condemned you to.

he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.

price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.

“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.

“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.

he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.

instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.

“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.

“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.

and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.

but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?

you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.

more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.

blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.

you would’ve thrown it away anyways.

you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.

his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.

you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.

“done?”

and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.

it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.

because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.

and yet he didn’t stop you.

“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.

he shrugs. “you needed it.”

he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.

“least I could do,” he says.

you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?

“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.

maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.

“no,” he says, and you know he means it.

he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.

he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”

that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.

and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.

“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.

the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.

“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.

“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.

“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”

you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.

“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.

he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”

“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”

you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.

“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.

“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”

you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”

his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.

those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.

you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.

their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.

“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”

you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”

finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”

you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”

none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.

a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.

you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.

the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.

none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.

(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)

the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.

you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.

you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.

you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.

“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”

you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.

you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.

you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.

you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.

nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.

your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.

how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?

you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.

the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.

a new beginning, you think.

you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.

the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.

eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.

who else knows you’re here?

perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.

you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.

its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.

a new beginning indeed.

[salsakiyoomi]

“oh my god! you had a bowl cut?!”

suguru groans, trying to snatch the polaroid of his younger self away from your hands as you giggle.

“can you please not?” he says and you merely laugh in response, admiring the photo in your hand of a six year old suguru with an extremely girlish bowl cut and a pullover, fidgeting with his fingers and a shy look on his younger face, looking away from the camera.

“aren’t you the cutest?” you tease, holding the polaroid away as suguru reaches out to snatch it once more from your hand, but fails.

“y/n.” he warns, and even now, you can see the shy and embarrassed look on his face, which was not so different from the one in the photo.

“what?!” you exclaim, “you looked so cute!”

“shut up.” he grunts, covering his face with his hands.

you laugh loudly, “c'mon, suguru, don't be shy now.”

“i'm not shy!” he denies, pouting at you, “can you just give me back the photo, please? i do not want you to see this atrocity.”

“atrocity?” you gasp, offended, “you call this little cutie pie an atrocity? how dare you?”

“c'mon, just give me the photo back.” he groans.

“awh, but suguru, you looked so cute!” you say and he quirks an eyebrow, “excuse you, i am still cute.” hesay.s.

“nah, you're hot.” you say, and he blushes, “fuck off.”

you laugh, the sound music to his ears and he can't help but smile, “okay okay.” you say, “here.” you hand him back the polaroid but not before giving his younger self a kiss.

he huffs, taking it back, “thank you.”

you nod, “okay now show me your little baby butt.” you say with an eager grin and he scowls at you, an evident blush still on his face.

“god, i can't believe i married you.”