#if you need more words: it's not only about how close they are

[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.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

Frat president || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Unlike Rafe, you managed to balance your responsibilities as Sorority President with your personal life and relationships, something he just couldn’t seem to get right.

Warnings: angst!!!

Word count: 1,973

A/n: first time writing frat boy!rafe lmk if you wanna see more

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

The room was dimly lit, the golden glow from the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the bed. You and Rafe lay tangled together under the sheets, the air thick with the heat of the moment. His hand slid across your bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth wherever he touched. His lips found yours again, hungry and urgent, as though he had been waiting for this all day—between the calls, the meetings, the endless chaos that came with being the frat president.

"Missed you," he muttered against your mouth, his breath hot and heavy, his body pressing into yours. You smiled into the kiss, knowing he meant it. Rafe was always busy, always handling something, but when he was with you, it was like the world faded away. His hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly, a stark contrast to the heat of the moment.

You arched your body against his, feeling that familiar warmth between you, the kind of intimacy that only you two shared. But just as things were getting more intense, the worst sound shattered the mood—the loud buzzing of his phone vibrating against the nightstand. Rafe paused, pulling away just enough to glance at the screen. His eyes flickered with annoyance but also duty, and you knew what was coming.

"Don't," you whispered, your voice soft but pleading, fingers on his jaw to keep him focused on you. "Just a second," Rafe muttered, "it’s the guys." You groaned and sat up, wrapping the sheet around your body. "Of course it is." Rafe pressed the phone to his ear, ignoring your frustration as he answered, his tone switching from soft and intimate to authoritative. "Yeah, what's up?" His voice was commanding, the kind of tone that always came out when he dealt with frat business.

You leaned back against the pillows, pulling the sheets over your chest, watching as he got up from the bed, pacing the room like he was in some kind of frat office rather than your bedroom. You watched Rafe’s broad back as he paced across the floor, the low murmur of his voice carrying on a conversation that had nothing to do with you. Every word, every command he gave over the phone to one of his frat brothers only added to the frustration bubbling inside you.

His hand ran through his messy hair as he listened to whoever was on the other end, barking orders and sounding like a leader—like the Rafe everyone else knew. But that wasn’t the Rafe you wanted right now. "Seriously?" Rafe’s voice cut through the air, frustration dripping from his words as he dealt with yet another frat-related crisis. "No, tell him if he doesn't fix it, I'm pulling him from the party this weekend."

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you tugged the blanket tighter around you. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. You knew he had responsibilities, but this was supposed to be your time. His phone calls could’ve waited, just this once. But no, everything else always seemed to come first—the frat boys, the parties, the constant drama. It was like you were sharing him with the entire fraternity.

"I said, handle it. No—no, Jacob. I was clear about what you needed to do. Get it fixed, or both of you are looking at probation." Rafe’s voice was cold, sharp as a blade. He paused for a second, then scoffed bitterly. "I don’t care if he was drunk. I don’t give a damn about excuses—just get it done." Rafe snapped into the phone, his voice hard and distant, like he wasn’t the same guy who had just whispered how much he missed you.

You had felt so close to him just minutes ago, tangled in the sheets, his hands on your skin, making you forget everything. You thought tonight would be different, that for once, you could have him all to yourself. The warmth of his touch and the closeness you’d shared felt like a cruel joke now, as you sat alone on the bed, waiting while he dealt with something that wasn’t you.

You stated at the ceiling as his voice grated on your nerves. The anger was bubbling up faster now, impossible to ignore. The thought of being second to his frat boys made your heart ache, but it was more than that. It was the growing realisation that maybe, you’d always be second. Always waiting for him to put you first.

After a few more minutes of listening to Rafe handle the situation, you had enough. "Rafe," you said, your voice sharp as you interrupted him mid-sentence. He glanced over at you, his expression apologetic but still distracted. "Hang on, babe." That set you off. "No, you hang on. You’ve been on that phone for ten minutes. This was supposed to be our time. Remember?" Rafe sighed, covering the phone's speaker with his hand as he turned toward you. "I know, I’m sorry. This is important."

"And I’m not?" you shot back, feeling the sting of his divided attention. Rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard by your words. "That’s not what I’m saying." "Sure feels like it," you muttered, turning away from him as you pulled the blanket over your shoulders. You felt the weight of your words settle between you both, a heavy tension replacing the heat from earlier.

Rafe exhaled loudly, covering the phone with his hand. "Babe, I’m handling it. Just give me a second." "That’s the problem, Rafe," you snapped, the anger flaring as you sat up, the blanket falling away from you. "It���s always 'just a second' with you. Always something more important than me. I thought this time would be different."

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated now. "It’s not like I want to deal with this shit right now, alright? But I’m the president. If I don’t fix these fucking problems, who will?" You shook your head, hurt and anger swirling in your chest. “I get it, Rafe. I know how much responsibility comes with being a president. Believe me, I have my own duties as sorority president. But I’ve learned to separate those responsibilities from my personal life, from us. Something you clearly can’t seem to get a grip on.”

Rafe’s face flushed with frustration. “You think I don’t care about us? You think I’m choosing the frat over you?” Rafe turned fully toward you now, his phone still in his hand but on mute, his voice was a strained mix of anger and desperation. "Of course I care about you. But this is my responsibility. You knew what you were getting into when we got together." "Did I?" you shot back, your voice shaking. "Because I don’t remember signing up to be treated like an afterthought every time someone screws up at a party!"

He rolled his eyes, frustration mounting. "Okay, now you're just overreacting." "Overreacting?" you repeated, the word hanging between you like an accusation. "No, Rafe. I’m tired. Tired of always competing with your frat, tired of feeling like I’m just here when it’s convenient for you. What kind of shitty relationship is this?" He looked at you, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes. Guilt, maybe.

But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced with the same stone-cold exterior he always put up when things got too real. "What the fuck do you want me to do then?" he asked, his voice strained. "I can’t just drop everything for you every time you feel insecure about this." His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you felt the sting behind your eyes, but you refused to let him see you cry.

"Insecure?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. "That’s what you think this is? That I’m just… insecure?" "That’s not what I meant," Rafe said quickly, but the damage was done. You stared at him, your heart aching in a way that felt all too familiar now. It was always the same with him. Every time you tried to open up, to let him know how much this was hurting you, he brushed it off, made it seem like you were the problem.

You stood from the bed, grabbing your clothes from the floor and quickly pulling them on. Rafe’s eyes widened in confusion as you started dressing. "What are you doing?" he asked, stepping closer. "I’m leaving," you replied coldly, buttoning up your shirt. "I'm not doing this tonight." Rafe stood by the bed, his expression torn between irritation and confusion as he watched you. “Are you seriously leaving because of one phone call?” he asked, his voice low and almost pleading.

“Of course not, Rafe,” you said, your voice trembling with everything you’d held back for so long. “I’m leaving because I can’t keep feeling like I don’t matter to you. Not anymore.” Rafe's jaw tightened as he crossed the room, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You know how this is, you’re a sorority president. You of all people should know how much responsibility comes with it. You can’t just walk away every time something comes up."

You paused at the door, turning to face him, anger flashing in your eyes. “Yeah, I do know. I know exactly what it’s like to balance responsibilities, Rafe. But I also know how to separate my personal life from it, something you can't ever seem to learn." Rafe stared at you, his hands clenched at his sides as he tried to find the right words. “That’s not fair,” he muttered. “You’re acting like I’m choosing this over you.”

“Aren’t you?” you shot back, your voice cold. “Every time we’re together, it’s like you’re half here, half thinking about what the guys are doing, what crisis you have to fix next. I get it, you have responsibilities, but that shouldn’t mean I have to come second all the time." His mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. He looked at you, the guilt flickering in his eyes, but still, no words that would make a difference.

The air between you both felt thick, heavy with all the things left unsaid for far too long. "Do you even realise how many times I’ve put everything on hold for you?" Your voice cracked, the hurt finally breaking through. “How many times I’ve chosen us over my responsibilities, over everything else? I’ve never made you feel like you were second, Rafe. Not once.”

“I’m trying,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was pleading with you to understand. “You know I am.” “Trying isn’t enough anymore.” Your heart ached as you said it, but you knew it was true. “I shouldn’t have to fight this hard just to feel like I matter to you.” Rafe’s face hardened, the guilt shifting into frustration. “So what, you just give up? Because I can’t drop everything for you in a second?”

Your laugh was bitter as you shook your head. “No, Rafe. I’m not asking you to drop everything. I’m asking you to care enough to make me feel like I’m part of your life, not just something you fit in when it’s convenient. But I guess that’s too much for you.” You turned toward the door again, your hand on the knob. This was it—the breaking point.

The moment where everything you’d been holding onto finally slipped through your fingers. “Wait.” His voice was softer now, almost desperate. You paused, just for a moment, waiting to see if he’d finally say what you needed to hear. But all you heard was the faint buzz of his phone vibrating again on in his hand. And just like that, the hope faded. Without another word, you walked out the door, not looking back.

[veritasangel]

Can you do something with Simon and Price and reader? fluff or smut please:)

warnings: fem pov, contains nsfw content {mdni}, oral (giving/receiving), cum swallowing, handjob, threesome, price x simon

a/n: i haven't written smut in a while so it feels sloppy, sorry ↣ wc: 1.8k

Thinking about being one of the newer members to the 141 and you’ve quickly attached yourself to price and simon.

Late nights, when the rest of the team had turned in, you were often sat between them both. Price lights a cigar; the all-familiar tobacco smell mingles in the night air, the dancing flame casting shadows over his face.

Ghost, on the other hand, pulls you into his side with soft ease, as if it were the most natural thing. His arm falls over your shoulders, his body relaxed in ways you'd never see during the day-not when he's the silent, sharp-edged soldier everyone else knows. But here, in the quiet night on the base, he lets his guard down just enough.

Price's eyes flickered to where Ghost had you nestled against him, a quiet smirk playing on his lips. Though it wasn't just amusement lighting up his gaze-there was something possessive in it, something knowing, like he and Ghost were sharing some silent agreement over your head. 

Price turned to you, "Comfortable?" he asked, his tone layered with something more than curiosity.

You nodded, the warmth spreading through your chest, though whether from the closeness of their bodies or the way the gaze of Price lingered on you-you weren't quite so sure. You shifted slightly, only to feel Ghost's grip tighten, his fingers curling around your shoulder.

"Stay still, love," Ghost said, his voice in that low rumble, the quiet way he always spoke, but unmistakable beneath the tone tonight. His hand slid down your arm, deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of fire behind it. "We've got you."

Price chuckled low and deep as he watched your eyes flutter innocently at Ghost's words. "Poor thing," he said, the humour in his tone bleeding away to something a little softer, "Reckon you're not used to all this attention, are you?"

Before you could even respond, Price's hand landed on your knee, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over the smooth skin. It felt like they were closing in on either side, enveloping you entirely, and you leaned into it.

"You don't have to do much, y'know," Price said again, and though his tone was teasing, it remained soothing. "Just let us take care of you."

Your words caught in your breath, your heart beating just a little bit faster as you tried to make sense of the change in air between the three of them, there was a possessiveness to the way they seemed so attuned to you.

Ghost's fingers brushed against your chin, his fingers tilting your head slightly towards him. "You're sweet, precious," he whispered, his eyes dark with the search for a reaction in yours. The edge in his tone was full of meaning. "Maybe a little too innocent for your own good, yeah?”

“I’m not-”

Price chuckled again, this time leaning in close enough that you could feel his breath against your neck. "It’s alright, nothing to be ashamed of," he said softly, voice almost a purr now. "Simon and I… we'll look after you."

His tone sent shivers down your spine, not out of fear but from the silent promise beneath his words. How their hands seemed to caress your skin in unison, touching you in a way that belied their sharp and deadly exteriors, your pulse racing at just the thought. You felt as though you were theirs-a shared treasure between them, and they had no intention of letting you go.

Ghost's thumb brushed your bottom lip and his eyes darkened just a fraction as he spoke again. "We'll take real good care of you, love. Won't let anything hurt you. Not while you've got us."

Price's hand had moved from your knee, drifting upwards to your thigh with slow, deliberate care. "You've no need to worry anymore," he murmured, the voice rich with the familiar comforting authority. "Between me and Simon, you'll always be safe.”

His touch was a blanket of warmth that wrapped you whole, and you couldn't help but sink deeper between them. By the way they looked at you, it was clear they'd taken it upon themselves to protect and cherish you-so long as you were willing to let them.

And of course, it wasn't long before these nights together turned into a whole lot more.

Price's grip on you tightens as Simon licks along your slit, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave marks. He can feel your body tensing, your breath hitching as Simon's tongue flicks against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

"That's it, love," Price murmurs, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Let him take care of you. You're doing so well." His hands wandered your body; one cupped one of your breasts, and the other drew circles on your side. He leaned into you, his beard rough against your neck as he nipped at the sensitive skin there.

Simon's fingers join his mouth, sliding inside you as his tongue continues its relentless assault. Price can feel your body seeking more, and he grins, knowing just how much you're enjoying this.

"Look at her, Simon," Price says in a husky voice. "She's fucking gorgeous like this. All flushed and needy." He leans back, giving Simon a better view of you, and watches as Simon's eyes darken with lust.

Price presses his cock against your ass, grinding into you, a low groan breaking free from him. "Fuck, angel," he mutters. "You feel so good. So fucking perfect."

You can feel the heat emanating from Price's body; the way he seems to revel in this moment-in your pleasure-is intoxicating. Simon's fingers curl inside you, and you arch your back, a moan slipping past your lips.

Price's hand slips from your breasts down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles in perfect rhythm with Simon's tongue. The dual stimulation hits you at once, and you cling to Price, your nails digging into his skin as you allow yourself to fall deeper into the waves of pleasure that wash over you.

"She's close." Price growls, his voice hoarse. "You gonna’ come for us, pretty?" Simon's mouth works faster, his tongue flicking your clit with renewed urgency. 

You cry out, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you, leaving you trembling in Price's lap. Simon continues, drawing it out as much as he can before he pulls back, his eyes dark and hungry. Price's hand stays where it is, teasing your sensitive clit a little as he watches Simon stand up, his own cock hard and ready. Price's hand slides away, and he stands too, tugging you up with him.

"Get on your knees, love," Price orders in a strong voice. "Say thank you to Simon."

Still trying to catch your breath, you fall to your knees in front of Simon. His cock, thick and heavy, beading with precum.You don’t hesitate to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip..

Price stands behind you, watching you pleasure Simon, his hand resting on your head. "That's it-" he praises, his hand guiding your head, "Take care of him like he took care of you."

Simon's hand finds its way to the back of your head too, guiding you as his hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your waiting mouth. 

Price watches, the satisfied grin still plastered on his face as he leans over, his lips meeting Simon's in a heavy, passion-filled kiss. His hand disappears from your head, now sliding to Simon's hip to pull him closer as their tongues dance.

You continue to pleasure Simon, your lips sliding up and down his shaft, your hand joining the effort to help the parts you can’t reach. The sight of Price kissing Simon only adds to your own arousal, the two looking as though it’s not the first time.

Price draws back from the kiss. "She's a natural, isn't she?" he murmurs-low and husky. "Takes’ to everything we ask her to do like she was born for it."

Simon nods, his eyes meeting yours whilst you continue sucking him off. "Fucking amazing," he agrees. "She's so goddamn responsive. I love seeing her like this."

"And she's ours," he says, a possessive edge to his voice. "No one else gets to have her like this. Just us."

Simon's grip on your head tightens as his hips move faster. "God, yes," he growls.

As his breathing becomes increasingly ragged, he reaches for Price's cock with his free hand. His fingers wrap around the shaft as he begins to stroke it in time with your mouth on him. 

The sight of the two of them, the way they work together is intoxicating, your body humming with arousal. Price's fingers tug your hair gently while Simon's hips buck into your mouth, growing closer to the edge.

Simon's thrusts become more erratic as his orgasm washes over him, ropes of cum coating your tongue, before you swallow, much to his approval. Price observes this scene, his own orgasm not far behind either.

Price groans as Simon's strokes bring him closer to his own release. "Fuck, Simon," he growls, voice thick with desire. "You're going to make me come."

Simon's strokes don't let up, his thumb continuing to tease the head of Price's cock. "Go on then" he orders, his voice low in his chest. "Let go."

You draw back, eyes locked with Price as Simon's hand works him faster. You can see the tension in his body, muscles pulled tight and ready to snap.

Price's breath catches, his body straining as his orgasm rips through him. He groans, his head falling forward onto Simon’s shoulder as his release spills over Simon's hand and some dripping onto you as his body shakes from the force of it.

As Price descends from his high, he looks down at you, his eyes satisfied. He reaches out, hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes away the white glob from your cheek.

"You're such a good girl" he utters in a soft, murmuring tone. "All ours."

Simon pulls you up into his arms, his lips finding yours in a deep passionate kiss. You taste yourself on him, and it only serves to turn you on further.

Price watches, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as Simon takes over the kiss, his hand sliding down your back to your ass.

The three of you fall onto the bed again, bodies intertwined. And in this moment, surrounded by their warmth and strength, you know you're exactly where you're meant to be.

༄ cod m.list

© veritasangel ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works.

[absfawn]

abby loves light taps. or even light slaps. there’s something about seeing you on your knees, between her wide legs, with your lips wrapped around her strap, strings of spit running down your chin, cheeks hallowed, and her brain always feels fuzzy when her fingers graze your face, only to send a light tap to the side of your cheek, encouraging you to go faster. for a few seconds her blue eyes widen when you’re gagging, worried she’s overstepped, done something you weren’t keen on doing, but when you whimper around her cock, she smirks before tutting and doing it again. “dirty slut, use that pretty mouth of yours and maybe i’ll slap you more, hm?”

or when she’s got you underneath her in her bed, limbs feeling like jelly, hands gripping any inch of her you can grab onto, while one of hers holds your hip,  grip that is sure to leave bruises tomorrow, the other holds your leg over her shoulder and she’s grinding her hips into yours at such a brutal yet delicious pace that has your back arching and toes curling. the sounds tumble from your mouth shamelessly. you’re on cloud nine, abby is too, and she can’t stop the shit eating grin that appears on her face when you’re tapping at the hand she’s got on your hip. “what, baby?” abby rasped out, voice strained and rough.

“need it.” was all you could whine.

“need me to give you a slap, huh? s’that what you want, pretty girl?” she taunted, looking down at you with that devious smirk on her lips. you didn’t offer her a response, just nodded deliriously beneath her, closing your eyes and gasping at each of her thrusts, not caring how loud you were being. “s’not how you ask. ask me.”

your eyes fluttered open at her words, and you whined softly under your breath. nails sinking into the skin on her arm, ignoring the small hiss she lets out. you were too in your own world, the pleasure your girlfriend was giving you had you falling deeper and deeper. “please,” you choked out, “want it.”

realizing you weren’t even focused on her words, abby removed her hand from your hip, ignoring the grunted whine slipping past your lips once she did so, she leaned down more and over you. her eyes trailing over your perky pebbled nipples before reaching up and gripping your chin between her fingers, prodding your lips with her thumb gently, but tutting when you go to wrap your lips around it. “s’not what you want this time, you can have them in your mouth next time.” abby promised, and she growls at the elicit whimper that rips through your throat when her hand slaps lightly at your cheek. wishing she could feel the way your cunt clenches around her cock. “you’re so dirty, hm?” she scoffs, rubbing the skin with her fingers to soothe the sting. “just a dirty little slut.”

“more.”

your eyes were wide as you looked up at her with a lazy smile on your lips, you had caught her off guard for a couple of seconds, not knowing just how much you enjoyed it when she gave you slaps or even the light taps on your cheek. she doesn’t even to do it sexually, but sometimes she gives your cheek a soft pat after she gives you a kiss before she leaves, and doesn’t notice your soft eyes, or feel the way your skin heats up at the action. 

the second slap she gives your cheek is a little harder, but the blood rushes to your head, your skull feels fuzzy, and a choked-out moan falls between your swollen lips. abby simply can’t help but laugh at your rection before pressing a gentle kiss to the skin of your cheek, soothing it as carefully as she could. “you truly are so fucking dirty, my dirty girl. gonna let me do it a few more times before i let you cum?”

how could you say no to that?

[verstappenverse]

What We Never Said

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max Verstappen, your best friend, has always been a constant in your life. But when jealousy surfaces over a recent date, it stirs emotions he hadn’t quite confronted. Is there more between you two than just friendship?

1.9k words / Masterlist

Max had always been good at keeping his cool. On the track where everything is measured in tenths of a second and a moment’s hesitation can cost everything, keeping a level head was what set him apart from the others. But lately away from the track something had been gnawing at him, disrupting his usually unshakeable focus.

It wasn’t new this feeling it had been there for a long time, simmering quietly beneath the surface. Max knew that. He was painfully aware of it in every shared glance, every late-night conversation, and in the way your laugh could instantly pull him out of his darkest moods. For years you’d both kept things easy, uncomplicated, two best friends never crossing the invisible line that tethered you close but never too close.

At least that’s how it was supposed to be.

It wasn’t until a few nights ago when he overheard a casual comment at a party that Max realised how fragile that balance really was.

“I didn’t know you’d gone on a date,” your friend had said her voice light and teasing.

Max wasn’t eavesdropping intentionally he had been halfway through a conversation with another driver when the words hit him like a punch to the gut. He barely registered what was being said to him after that. His attention had been locked on you, watching the subtle shift in your posture as you casually replied.

“Yeah,” you said, like it was nothing. “We went for dinner and drinks, it was really nice...he was nice.”

Max’s hand had tightened around his drink. Nice. The word grated against Max’s nerves. The conversation around him faded into white noise as his mind fixated on what you hadn’t said, on what you’d kept from him. A date? You’d gone on a date? Since when did you go on dates without mentioning it to him? It felt like the ground beneath him had shifted, like something fundamental had changed, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

For the rest of the evening Max stayed quiet his usual easy-going demeanour replaced by something darker, something more brooding. You didn’t seem to notice or if you did, you didn’t bring it up. But every time he looked at you all he could think about was someone else sitting across from you, someone else making you laugh, someone else getting to know the parts of you that Max had always believed were his to cherish.

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

He thought about it more than he should have over the following days, a slow burn of frustration and confusion twisting in his chest. It wasn’t that he had a claim over you but there had always been something unspoken between the two of you, and hearing about you with someone else, someone who wasn’t him, made it feel like everything was slipping through his fingers.

Max found himself at your door days later, heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of racing. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say only that the unresolved tension between you needed addressing.

The door opened and there you were, smiling like always, the kind that usually made his stomach flip, but today it only made him more tense. “Hey you,” you greeted stepping aside to let him in.

He walked in without hesitation, but his usual ease was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t been able to shake the image of you with someone else. Max had tried to push it down, to convince himself that it was none of his business. You were your own person, free to do whatever – or whomever – you wanted. But the truth was, it did bother him. A lot more than he cared to admit.

He dropped onto your couch more tense than he’d been in weeks. You sat down next to him, your brow furrowing as you picked up on his mood. Max was many things, but unreadable was not one of them. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and right now you could sense the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. His jaw was clenched, and you could see the tension radiating off of him in waves.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, tone light but probing. “You seem… off.”

He wanted to shrug it off, say it was nothing, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t pretend anymore, not with you.

Instead he turned toward you, his blue eyes sharp “Why didn’t you tell me you went on a date?”

Your expression shifted subtly, surprise, then confusion trying to place his tone, “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

A beat of silence passed, Max could hear the faint hum of the city outside your apartment window, but inside, the air felt thick weighted with something unsaid.

“I overheard you the other night,” he continued, his voice rougher than he intended.

You blinked, processing his words. “You overheard?”

Max nodded, watching you closely waiting for some kind of explanation that would ease the knot in his chest. But you just sat there, not defensive, not guilty, just calm.

You hadn’t kept it from him on purpose. In fact you didn’t even think it was that big of a deal. The date had been fine, nice, but nothing extraordinary, certainly not enough to warrant telling Max about it right away.

“It wasn’t anything serious,” you said after a long pause. “Just dinner. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

Max exhaled sharply running a hand through his hair. “And if it had been serious?”

Now you were even more confused. Your eyes met his then, a flicker of something passed between you. “Why does it matter?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Why did it matter? He wasn’t your boyfriend. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he was anymore, except confused. Maybe a little scared. The kind of fear that sinks deep, the kind that makes you realise you’ve been taking something for granted.

“Because it does,” he muttered quietly, his voice tight.

You leaned back slightly, studying him. There was something different about the way you looked at him now, more attuned to whatever was hanging between you. You’d always known that Max was protective of you, but this? This was something else entirely.

“You’ve never cared before,” you said, your voice quieter now, like you were piecing together a puzzle neither of you had fully acknowledged.

Max hesitated then sighed. “Maybe I should’ve.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and they hung in the air, heavier than anything he’d ever admitted to you before.

You didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched, uncomfortable in a way that it never had been between the two of you. And then, after what felt like an eternity you leaned forward resting your elbows on your knees hands clasped in front of you.

“Is that what this is all about? Me going on a date and not telling you?” You paused, your eyes searching his face,“Or is it something else?”

He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Because of course it was something else. It had always been something else. He just hadn’t let himself admit it not until now, not until the idea of you with someone else had thrown everything into sharp, painful focus, and maybe that wasn't fair but he didn't know how he could go back now.

Max stood, pacing the length of your living room his mind racing. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered, though it was a lie. He did know. He just wasn’t sure how to say it, cross the line you’d both been skirting around, to take years of friendship and lay it bare without ruining everything.

“Max,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “Look at me.” You needed to hear him say it. You needed to know if what you felt for him was mutual or if you were reading too much into this.

He stopped pacing but didn’t turn around right away. His fists clenched at his sides, and for the first time in a long time, Max felt completely out of control. It wasn’t like driving where every move was calculated, where he could read the car, the track, the competition with precision. This was messier, rawer, and there was no strategy for it.

Finally, he turned to face you his blue eyes meeting yours. There was no running from it anymore, no pretending that what he felt for you was anything less than what it really was.

“I didn’t like it,” he said quietly, the admission catching in his throat. “Hearing you talk about him… I hated it.”

You didn’t look away but your eyes softened, your expression still guarded.

“Why?” you asked, though your tone told him you already knew the answer.

Max let out a shaky breath. “Because… I’ve always wanted it to be me.”

The confession hung in the air, and for the first time with you Max felt truly exposed, vulnerable. The invisible line between you two, the one he’d always danced around, was gone.

All the emotions you’d been burying for so long, all the feelings you’d tried to convince yourself weren’t there, came rushing to the surface.

You walked toward him slowly, and for a moment, Max wasn’t sure what you were going to say, but when you reached him you didn’t say anything. Instead you just looked at him, really looked at him, like you were seeing him in a way you hadn’t before.

“I’ve always wanted it to be you, too,” you whispered, the words so soft he almost missed them.

“I didn’t want to ruin things between us,” Max continued, “I didn’t want to lose you. But hearing about you with someone else… it made me realise that maybe I’ve already lost you and I didn’t even know it.”

You took a step closer to him your heart pounding in your chest. “You haven’t lost me."

His heart clenched, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, gently cupping your face with his hand. Your skin was warm beneath his palm and for the first time in days the tension in his chest eased slightly.

You didn’t pull away, you stepped closer eyes never leaving his. It was as if all the years of unspoken tension between you had finally come to a head, and neither of you could ignore it anymore.

He leaned in, slowly, cautiously, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. And when his lips finally met yours it was like everything he hadn’t been able to say, everything he’d been holding back for years, poured into that kiss.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, deliberate, a moment stretched out between two people who had spent too long pretending they didn’t want this. Max’s arms wrapped around you as the kiss deepened, but still, there was a softness to it a tenderness that spoke of the years of friendship, of trust.

When the kiss broke, you both stood there inches apart breathing in the moment. Max's hand lingered on your cheek his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“You know,” you whispered, smiling against his lips teasing, “this is probably something you should’ve told me ages ago.”

Max let out a soft laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “Yeah, well” he said, his voice low and teasing back, “I guess this means I can stop pretending I’m okay with you dating other people now," you laughed softly as he smirked "but I wasn’t too worried, everything’s about timing isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, your lips brushing his. “I guess you got it right.”

"Finally," he whispered with a grin, before pulling you into another kiss.

[crystallinestars]

A month had passed since the Luofu incident, and Jiaoqiu’s injuries had healed. It had been a long time since you last got to be intimate, and now that the foxian is in better shape, he’s eager to get his hands on you.  This is basically just smut with an attempt at hurt/comfort. I’m not good at writing scenarios, so this may be subpar at best, but I tried. Image source. Word count: 4584

WARNING:

MAJOR spoilers for the 2.5 story quest

Content aimed at an 18+ audience

Possibly OOC Jiaoqiu

Lots of vanilla smut and affection

Jiaoqiu x Fem!Reader (reader has a vagina)

Jiaoqiu sat on the edge of the couch while you carefully wrapped a fresh roll of gauze around his chest, covering up the ugly, jagged scars running across his chest. According to Jiaoqiu, the wounds had healed and required no further medical attention, but you couldn’t feel at ease until you did everything you could to ensure he healed properly. The shock of how close he had come to death still gripped your heart with ice-cold fingers, as did the grief of how much he had changed as a result.

A month ago, you had looked forward to welcoming Jiaoqiu home from his trip to the Luofu ship. You knew he was handling an important mission to transport Hoolay—the terrifying borisin leader who was the enemy of all foxians —to the Yaoqing ship, and that complications might arise when dealing with such a dangerous monster. However, never did you imagine Jiaoqiu will return to you blind and injured. He said he ingested Tumbledust—a lethal poison—to trick Hoolay into consuming it along with his blood. You mourned his loss of sight, but Jiaoqiu only smiled and assured you that it was a small price to pay for Hoolay’s downfall and that he did not regret his actions.

“There, all done,” you said while tying a final knot to hold the gauze securely around Jiaoqiu’s torso.

“Thank you. This should be the last time this is needed,” Jiaoqiu said as he patted the couch in search of his shirt.

You fell quiet as you stood in front of him and watched him struggle to find the shirt which rested just a bit farther from where his hand was fumbling about. What Jiaoqiu could once do in seconds without much thought, now required more time and effort on his part. It pained you to see him this way.

Jiaoqiu’s ears twitched at the prolonged silence, and as if sensing your downtrodden mood, he abandoned his search for the shirt in favor of reaching his hands toward you. For a split second, he lightly traced his hands along your stomach until they reached your waist, and then he looped them around you and pulled. You fell forward with a small yelp and found yourself straddling his lap with your hands tightly grasping his shoulders.

“Jiaoqiu! What are you doing?” you asked with mild annoyance, a bit frazzled by this sudden gesture.

“Can’t a man hug his girlfriend? It’s been a while since I got to hold you like this,” the foxian innocently replied and tightened his hold on you as he hugged you close. His hands slipped under the hem of your shirt to rub small circles into the skin of your lower back, meanwhile his chin came to rest on your shoulder, his mouth beside your ear.

“I was just thinking about how much I missed your touch. You’ve been fussing over my condition ever since I returned, but I miss your intimate touches, dear,” he mused as he rubbed the tip of his nose along your neck. “Now that I’m fully recovered, I’m hungry for you, my love. Will you indulge me?”

Your breath hitched as Jiaoqiu’s hand slowly slid higher under your shirt, skimming along your ribs with his palms. You knew he wanted to have sex, and truth be told, you were craving it too. Ever since he came back injured, you abstained from sexual activity in favor of caring for your boyfriend. As a result, you were pent up and eager for some relief. Still, you worried about his physical condition.

Grasping the foxian’s wrist, you gently pulled it away from your body and held his hand in yours.

“I don’t know… it’s probably too soon,” you murmured, fixing your gaze upon his chest where several horrific scars lay hidden under the gauze.

Jiaoqiu sighed but didn’t push you. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We don’t have to do anything. But there is no need to hold back for my sake. My injuries have healed well, and I am perfectly healthy,” he admonished, his tone gentle yet firm.

You were still unconvinced. Even if his injuries were fine, there was still the issue of his blindness. Jiaoqiu could no longer do certain things with you such as cooking food for you or watching your favorite shows together. It stood to reason that sex with him would be different too, and you worried you would mess it up. What if you overwhelmed or made him uncomfortable by going too fast or rough? What if the moment felt awkward and ruined the allure of sexual intimacy for the two of you?

As if sensing your anxious thoughts, Jiaoqiu let out a soft hum and traced his hands up your arms and shoulders, following their path to your face. His palms tenderly cupped your cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“I’m a doctor, dear. I know how much I can handle and how far to push myself,” he whispered and leaned in to kiss you. However, his lips missed the mark, and he kissed the corner of your mouth instead.

“Oops. I’m still not used to this yet,” he chuckled as he pulled away, laughing off the little mishap, but you could still feel the lingering warmth of his lips on your skin, slightly off from where he wanted them to land, and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you cradled his face and lightly trailed your thumbs along the corners of his eyes, getting him used to being touched there, before placing two kisses on the outer corners of his eyes.

Jiaoqiu’s tail flicked.

“Your eyes…” you started in a whisper as you pressed your forehead to his, feeling a little emotional. It still pained you to see how much Jiaoqiu lost from swallowing that poison.

“It’s not a big deal,” Jiaoqiu said, his voice even and gentle. Slowly, one hand came to rest upon your head in a comforting gesture and the words you’ve heard several times over were said to you again: “It’s a small price to pay for Hoolay’s demise. I have no grievances, dear. I am content.”

I am content.

Jiaoqiu often repeated those words to remind you that he was happy with how things turned out in the end. The result may not be perfect, but for Jiaoqiu, it’s the best outcome he could have hoped for. Hoolay was gone, Feixiao had hope for a cure, and countless innocent lives were saved. In the grand scheme of things, those were all very positive outcomes, so the loss of his sight was insignificant by comparison. He could live just fine without it.

“Besides, you pity me too much, love. I’m not a fragile kit. These eyes of mine may not be of much use anymore, but I am still me. And right now, what I am is a man craving for his girlfriend’s affection,” he mused and ran a hand up the length of your spine in a feather-light caress.

Your breath hitched and you arched your back when Jiaoqiu’s hand trailed up your spine in the exact way he knew you liked. His touch sent tingles of pleasure through your back, causing you to shiver in delight.

A pleased smile tugged on his lips when he heard your breath catch and felt your body shudder on his lap. The healer traced your spine again, eager to feel and hear you react to his touch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? If you let me, I’ll make you feel even better,” he purred against your ear and gave it a gentle nibble.

Overcome with lust and an intense craving for your boyfriend’s touch, you succumbed to his seduction. Taking hold of his chin, you guided Jiaoqiu’s mouth to meet yours. The kiss started out tender and sweet, full of the love you harbored for one another, but as your hands explored each other, the kiss became imbued with lust. Teeth nipped at lips and tongues met in a heated dance until your breaths ran short and you were forced to part for air.

Jiaoqiu’s hands mapped out the curves and dips of your body, slowly tracing the contours as if studying learning them for the very first time. Now that he no longer had his eyesight, his sense of touch served to teach him the look of your body. Though he had seen your bare figure many times before, now he was taking his time to truly familiarize himself with it. His palms glided over your shoulders and arms, the swells of your breasts, and the dips in your back, memorizing how you felt and reacted to every touch.

As you broke the kiss, a string of saliva joining you to Jiaoqiu’s mouth pulled back with you in a lewd display of desire, until it finally broke. A soft whisper of his name fell from your lips, and the foxian’s ears rotated in response to the sound. Their movement caught your attention.

Reaching your right hand up, you placed it on his head before slowly making your way toward the base of his ear so as to let him know what you wanted to do. Catching on to your intentions, Jiaoqiu chuckled and lowered his head so you could pet his ear more easily.

Your thumb rubbed gentle circles into the fluffiest part of his ear where you knew Jiaoqiu liked being touched. Sure enough, a subtle purr rumbled in the back of his throat. Encouraged by his response, you placed your left hand on his other ear and mirrored the process, rubbing both of his ears simultaneously. The foxian let out a shaky breath and tightened his grip on your hips, feeling your touch stronger than usual since the loss of his sight heightened his other senses.

You shifted to sit more comfortably on Jiaoqiu’s lap while petting his ears and felt a distinct hardness poke at you between your thighs. Even without looking down, you knew Jiaoqiu was pitching a tent. He wasn’t the only one feeling horny, however, and while still playing with his ears, you pressed your hips firmly against the bulge. A low, guttural groan tore from Jiaoqiu’s throat, and he leaned forward to bury his face in the crook of your neck, giving the skin a playful nip. You ground your hips again in response and reveled in the sharp hiss that motion elicited from the healer.

Growing a bit impatient from the teasing, Jiaoqiu tugged at your shirt in a silent message for you to take it off. You complied and shed your clothing, tossing it to the side as you exposed your body to him, save for a pair of panties. Once you were back on his lap, Jiaoqiu’s hands eagerly explored your bare skin, unhindered by pesky clothing.

Your hands traveled across his broad shoulders and down to his chest still covered by the gauze. The feeling of his warm skin transitioning into the coarse material sent a pang through your heart, and you leaned down to kiss the skin above the gauze. In response, Jiaoqiu breathed a soft sigh in and traced his hands up to your breasts before cupping them in his palms and flicking your nipples with his thumbs. Biting back a moan, you ground your hips against his once more and continued to dry hump against his groin at a slow and steady pace.

With each slow yet firm swivel of your hips, your clothed pussy rubbed against his erection, sending sparks of pleasure through your body each time your clit grazed against his hardness.

The tip of Jiaoqiu’s tail thumped against the couch with impatience.

“You’re being quite the tease,” Jiaoqiu rasped, smile strained as he tried to control his desire to buck against your pussy. The amount of friction you provided felt good, but it was not enough.

“Am I? And here I was just trying to make you feel good,” you teased, but relented, wanting to be nice to Jiaoqiu. Reaching a hand between your bodies, you undid his pants and fished out his erection. His cock was stiff and hot, the mushroom tip leaking beads of precum. Jiaoqiu groaned and swished his tail when you gave his dick an experimental pump.

“Be gentle,” he reminded, already feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of your hand grasping his aching length. You hummed in acknowledgment and lubricated your palm with his precum and your saliva, before wrapping it around his cock. As your hand pumped the hard flesh at a slow and gentle pace, Jiaoqiu’s body tensed, and you heard his breath hitch.

“Does this feel good?” you asked, hoping this wasn’t too overwhelming for your boyfriend.

“Yes. Just keep going,” he groaned and leaned his forehead against your shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist in an almost desperate grip.

With his encouragement, you continued to pump his cock, going faster and gripping tighter when he said you could. Occasionally, you would switch to rubbing his tip with your palm or circling your thumb over the slit in the cockhead, smiling when you felt Jiaoqiu shiver in response to the stimulation.

Soft gasps and strained groans spilled from his lips, and his ears and tail twitched each time you stimulated a particularly sensitive spot on his cock. To enhance his pleasure, you used your free hand to rub circles on the skin around the base of his tail and trailed kisses along his neck, sucking marks into the areas you knew he liked. Pretty soon, Jiaoqiu was panting and rocking his hips into your hand, chasing after his release.

“Hah… Ah! Don’t stop—I’m close,” he moaned, voice coming out strained as he tried to hold back his sounds of pleasure.

Wanting to push your beloved over the edge, you kissed him hard and deep while jerking his cock at a steady pace and massaging the base of his tail. Jiaoqiu moaned into your mouth, and after a few seconds, you felt his cock twitch as ropes of cum covered your hand. Breaking the kiss, you pulled back and gave his dick a few more slow pumps, milking as much pleasure from his orgasm as you could, before finally letting go and wiping your hand on your thigh.

Jiaoqiu looked like a disheveled mess, ears askew and cheeks flushed as he sat there, gasping for breath.

“That felt way better than I remember,” he rasped with a weak smile.

Chuckling, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and pulled him in for a hug, letting Jiaoqiu recover from his orgasm.

“I’m glad it did. I had almost forgotten how good you look, all flushed like this,” you teased, earning a light pinch to your nipple from Jiaoqiu.

“I still haven’t forgotten how you look when you fall apart under my touch,” he said, turning the tables as he slid a hand between your legs. His fingers carefully traced over your crotch, feeling the outlines of your labia before cupping your clothed pussy.

“If there’s one thing I miss seeing, it’s that lovely face of yours when you orgasm,” he teased and laughed when you playfully slapped at his arm in retaliation.

Whatever barbed comments you wanted to send his way quickly died on your tongue as a surprised moan tore from your throat when Jiaoqiu found your clit and pressed his thumb against it. A molten knot of pleasure tightened in your abdomen when his thumb circled your clit over your drenched panties, eliciting another moan from you.

“What a lovely sound. I want to hear it again,” he purred. “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good. Let's get you nice and wet for me, shall we?”

 Jiaoqiu pushed aside your panties and slipped a single digit inside your soaking pussy, making you groan as your walls sucked it deeper inside.

“You’re so tight and wet,” he said in a husky whisper, slowly moving his finger in and out of your cunt, creating a lewd, wet noise with each pump. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Jiaoqiu adjusted the angle of his hand and slid a second finger into you. His thumb teased your clit in languid circles while his fingers slowly scissored you open, prepping you for his cock. You moaned and bucked your hips into his hand, wanting more stimulation.

Jiaoqiu chuckled but doubled down his efforts to please you. His thumb pressed harder against your nub, and he curled his fingers inside you, searching for that one spot on the upper wall of your vagina that made you see stars. When he found it, he pressed on it over and over again with each thrust of his fingers, smirking at how you keened and clutched his shoulders in response.

“Feels good, does it?” he mused, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Yeah, but you talk too much,” you huffed and kissed Jiaoqiu to shut him up. The foxian only laughed into the kiss, but let his tongue play with yours while he sped up the thrusts of his fingers.

He broke the kiss and carefully leaned his head forward to touch his forehead against yours, your warm breaths mingling together as you rutted against his hand. The knot in your belly grew tighter and tighter, your climax steadily approaching as the healer worked to send you over the edge.

Once you were sufficiently relaxed, Jiaoqiu plunged a third finger into your core and switched to rubbing your clit with the heel of his palm. You groaned at the stretch and clung to his shoulders, instinctively bucking your hips against his hand, trying to take the digits deeper. Soft moans of his name slipped past your lips as you moved your hips in time with his hand, feeling the knot in your belly slowly tighten.

Jiaoqiu’s ears perked up at the sound of his name, and he gently kissed your neck and shoulders, whispering praises about how lovely you sounded to encourage you to let more of your voice out. His other hand trailed along your side, reaching up to squeeze your breast and tease your nipple, or reaching behind to run along your spine in that same teasing manner, smiling when he felt your pussy flutter around his fingers in response.

“Are you close?” Jiaoqiu asked, keeping that same steady rhythm as he fingered you, hitting your g-spot.

“Y-Yeah… I’m close,” you answered, your voice wavering as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of climax.

“Then let go. Let me feel you come all over my fingers,” he whispered into your ear and gave it a nip.

As if by command, your body convulsed and you were hurled into an orgasm, hips desperately bucking into Jiaoqiu’s hand while your walls squeezed his digits. You stifled your moans against his shoulder, and Jiaoqiu continued to thrust his fingers into you, helping you ride out your orgasm until you stopped trembling. The foxian gently pulled his fingers out of your pussy, drenched and slick with your essence, before licking them clean.

“I missed your taste…” Jiaoqiu murmured, savoring your flavor, making you blush at this erotic display. The foxian gently pulled you against his chest, and you slumped against him, breathing heavily as you regained your senses.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, lightly stroking your head.

“Good. Very good,” you replied with a breathless chuckle. “I haven’t felt this relaxed in a while.”

Jiaoqiu smiled, pleased that he had such an effect on you.

Though the healer didn’t say anything, you felt his erection poke at your abdomen and knew that his body wanted more than the one orgasm you gave him earlier.

“Do you want to keep going?” you asked him as you traced a finger along the slimy mushroom tip. Jiaoqiu flinched at the unexpected touch and hissed.

“I wouldn’t mind if we kept going, but only if you want to, love.”

Smiling, you leaned in and gave him a light peck on the lips. “I do want to,” you said. “I’ve gone way too long without feeling you inside me. Just let me know if you need to stop.”

You made Jiaoqiu agree to tell you if he felt discomfort at any point before adjusting yourself on his lap. Lifting your hips, you lined up the tip of his cock with your entrance, taking a moment to tease it over your opening and coat it with your slick. Jiaoqiu stifled a groan and tightened his grip on your hips, restraining the urge to thrust his hips up and bury his aching cock in your slick warmth.

Once the tip was pressed against your entrance, you slowly sank down, taking Jiaoqiu’s length inch by inch. You both moaned once he bottomed out and basked in the familiar feeling of being joined together.

“I missed this,” Jiaoqiu said, resting his forehead against your shoulder while he breathed deeply to try and acclimate to the snug squeeze of your pussy. The sensation felt more intense than he remembered. “You feel so good around me, dear.”

“I missed this too,” you murmured, hugging Jiaoqiu and stroking his head.

“I wish I could see your face right now. I bet you look really cute,” he added in a low voice and traced a hand up your body until he felt the familiar curve of your jaw. His index finger lightly traced your cheek, causing your heart to squeeze in your chest. Taking his hand, you leaned your cheek into his palm and kissed the inside of his wrist. Jiaoqiu tensed at the sensation at first but quickly relaxed and smiled.

When both of you had grown accustomed to the sensations, you started moving. Gripping Jiaoqiu’s shoulders, you ground against him by slowly rotating your hips. His cock pleasantly rubbed along your walls, stoking the fire in your belly. Jiaoqiu let out another low moan and hugged you close, pressing your bodies flush together.

After a few minutes of this slow, gentle grinding, Jiaoqiu adjusted his hold on your waist and bucked upwards, driving himself deeper inside you. You moaned in surprise and stopped.

“You can move faster, I’m not going to break,” he reminded you, a hint of pleading in his voice. He wasn’t satisfied with this gentle pace.

“Fine. You’re so impatient,” you playfully chided him, but complied. Getting into a more comfortable position, you lifted off his lap before lowering back down again, biting back a moan at how his cock dragged against your walls. Over and over, you gently bounced on his dick, slowly picking up speed and angling your hips so his tip hit that sweet spot deep inside, sending jolts of pleasure through you with each thrust.

Jiaoqiu groaned and nuzzled into the crook of your neck, sucking more marks into the skin while his tail swished side to side in excitement. One of his hands roamed along your back, nails lightly raking down your spine and causing you to moan and shiver with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around his member, eliciting another throaty noise of pleasure from the foxian.

The sharp sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with your heady moans of pleasure echoed in the room as you rode Jiaoqiu’s length. The knot in your belly tightened even more as you felt your climax slowly approach, but the tired aching in your thighs made you slow down. Your slowed pace alerted Jiaoqiu to your tiredness, and he skimmed a hand between your bodies until his fingers found your clit. He pressed hard on it and rubbed tight circles with the pad of his thumb, causing you to jolt and moan in response.

“Just a little more, dear. Hang in there for a little longer,” he encouraged, voice hoarse with pleasure. The stimulation against your clit motivated you to keep moving, chasing after your release that was now within reach.

“Jiaoqiu, I’m gonna cum,” you slurred, pressing your torso firmly against his as you spend up your thrusts. The foxian looped an arm around your waist, holding you close while still working on your clit.

“Go on, dear, cum for me. I’m also close,” he said in a strained voice, desperately trying to hold out to come together with you.

After a few more eager thrusts and rubs against your clit, you came with a loud cry. Your hands dug into Jiaoqiu’s shoulders as you rode out the high, hips eagerly grinding against his as your pussy pulsed around his cock. Jiaoqiu followed after you and climaxed while groaning your name, bucking his hips up into yours, forcing himself deeper into your cunt as he spilled inside your warmth.

With a shudder, you came down from your orgasm and slumped against Jiaoqiu’s torso, feeling completely spent. You were out of breath and your legs ached, but you were satisfied in a way you hadn’t felt in a while. Not since Jiaoqiu left for the Luofu over a month ago.

The feeling of the foxian’s hands gently massaging your thighs brought you back to reality, and you tilted your head to look up at him. His lips were curled into a serene and sincere smile, an expression of true happiness adorning his face.

“How do you feel?” he asked that familiar question, one he always asked after each session of sex you had with him. As a doctor and your partner, he felt it was his duty to make sure you were alright afterward.

“Tired but thoroughly satisfied,” you said with a contented hum. Jiaoqiu’s smile widened.

“I’m glad. You did well,” he said and kissed your forehead.

After the two of you regained your strength, Jiaoqiu pulled out of you but kept you on his lap, hugging you close while still massaging the soreness out of your thighs. His head lay on your shoulder, tail lazily swaying from side to side while you absentmindedly rubbed one of his ears. He appeared to be at peace, a state you haven’t seen him in for weeks. After all, it’s hard to be at ease when you suddenly lose the functionality of your eyes and have to learn how to navigate the world without eyesight.

“One day, we’ll heal your eyes,” you whispered with determination. “I promise.”

Jiaoqiu let out a small hum, his tail pausing in its movements.

“I know you will. You and Feixiao will make it happen, one way or another,” he said with a hint of amusement. “But even if you don’t, I’ll be happy as long as I have you and everyone else by my side.”

He leaned in for a kiss, but his lips landed on your chin. Chuckling at his awkward targeting, the healer gently gripped your chin and tilted your head up for a proper kiss.

Jiaoqiu was still your beloved Jiaoqiu through and through. He was content to live a life where his loved ones were safe and happy, but you wanted to at least try to search for a solution to his blindness. Whether you had to scour through heaps of ancient records or travel to the other side of the universe, you wanted to help and heal Jiaoqiu the way he had helped and healed so many others.

But if by some misfortune there was no cure for his ailment, you will remain by his side no matter what. Jiaoqiu is devoted to you and you to him, and that will never change.

[wolvietxt]

𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌!

pairing : logan howlett x reader warnings : reader has the nightmare, logan doesn’t know much about reader’s past, trauma flashbacks, hurt / comfort wc : 1.2k

the air in the room was thick, almost suffocating. sleep should’ve been a sanctuary, a place where you could shut down the world and find some peace, but tonight... it was anything but peaceful. the soft hum of the night outside didn’t penetrate the tension. the bed felt like a trap, the sheets twisted around your legs, tightening like they wanted to hold you down.

you jolted awake, gasping. the world felt too real, too solid, and you couldn’t quite shake the vividness of the nightmare clinging to your mind. your chest heaved as you tried to ground yourself, pressing your hands into the mattress, but the fear and memories were still clawing at you.

you were back there - in the past. hands bound, eyes wide open, watching everything but being unable to do a thing. the missions, the screams, the people you’d hurt... it all replayed in slow motion, burning through your mind like it had never really left.

logan stirred beside you, his body instinctively shifting when he felt your movements. he was a heavy sleeper in some ways, but when it came to you, the smallest sign of distress was enough to get his attention. his arm draped over your waist, pulling you closer, his chest pressed against your back. normally, the warmth would be enough to calm you, but tonight you felt like you were drowning in the heat, unable to escape the memories.

“what’s wrong?” logan’s voice was a gravelly whisper, heavy with sleep but alert. his lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke, his breath warm on your skin. “bad dream?”

you didn’t answer right away. you couldn’t. the words felt too heavy, too tangled up in the nightmare. your hands were trembling, and it was only when you realised how tight your grip was on the sheets that you forced yourself to let go.

“yeah,” you finally whispered, voice barely audible. “just a nightmare.”

he didn’t ask for more, didn’t press you. logan wasn’t the type to demand explanations. instead, he shifted so he could pull you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. the weight of him against your back, the solid feel of him, was grounding in a way that nothing else could be.

“you’re safe,” he murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “nothin’s gonna hurt you. i won’t let it.”

the words should’ve been enough. they always had been before, but tonight they weren’t. not because you didn’t believe him - logan would go through hell to protect you - but because the danger wasn’t outside. it was inside you, trapped in your head, a part of the past that wouldn’t let go.

you swallowed hard, your throat tight, and turned to face him. his eyes were heavy-lidded with sleep, but there was a sharpness there, a readiness to do whatever needed to be done if it meant you’d be okay.

“it’s... it’s not about right now,” you started, your voice shaky. “it’s the past. stuff i... i can’t forget.”

logan’s brow furrowed, his thumb brushing absently over your shoulder. he didn’t say anything, just waited. the silence between you was thick but not uncomfortable, the kind of silence that meant he was listening. that he’d listen for as long as you needed, without judgment.

you drew in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but the memories were still fresh in your mind, too close to ignore.

“i keep dreaming about them,” you admitted, your voice quieter than before. “the missions. the people. what i did before... before you.”

logan didn’t react right away, but his hold on you tightened slightly. his jaw clenched, and you could tell he hated that you were still haunted by that part of your life. but he didn’t interrupt, didn’t tell you to stop talking. he just let you get it out.

“i try to let it go. i try to move past it, but it’s like every time i close my eyes, i’m back there. doing things i can’t take back.”

you hated how raw your voice sounded, hated that those memories still held power over you. but more than anything, you hated that even now, after all this time, they could still make you feel like you were drowning.

logan’s hand moved up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in slow, gentle strokes. his eyes were dark, filled with an understanding that came from his own history, his own pain. you weren’t alone in that, not with him. logan had his own ghosts, his own past that bled into the present in ways he couldn’t always control.

“you did what you had to do,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you survived. and that’s what matters.”

you shook your head, pulling back slightly. “but it doesn’t change what i did.”

“no, it doesn’t,” he agreed, his voice quiet but firm. “but you ain’t the same person anymore. you got out. you’re here. with me.”

he said it like it was simple, like the fact that you were with him was enough to erase everything else. and in a way, maybe it was. logan had a way of grounding you, of pulling you back from the edge of your own mind. he wasn’t one for long speeches or trying to fix things with words. he just... existed with you in the moment. and that was what you needed.

you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly, not wanting to make a big deal of it. but logan saw. he always saw.

his hand caught yours, stopping you from brushing away the rest of the tears. he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath steady and calming, like an anchor. “you don’t gotta be strong all the time. not with me.”

that did it. the dam broke. you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, no longer fighting to hold them back. logan didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. he just held you, his arms solid and strong, letting you release the weight of everything you’d been carrying.

the room was quiet except for your breathing, the soft sounds of your sobs fading as the minutes passed. it wasn’t a loud cry, nothing dramatic. just a release, like the pressure had finally built too high, and you couldn’t hold it anymore.

logan held you until your breathing evened out, until the tears dried up and you were left feeling hollow but lighter. his hand kept a steady rhythm on your back, rubbing slow, calming circles.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than before, almost a whisper.

you nodded, your head still pressed against his chest. you felt the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the slow, calming beat of his heart. it was enough to pull you fully back into the present, away from the nightmare.

“i’m okay,” you whispered, even though you didn’t quite believe it. but you would be. with logan, you always ended up okay.

he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there, warm and steady. “good. ‘cause you don’t deserve to be stuck in the past. not when you’ve come this far.”

you closed your eyes again, but this time, there was no nightmare waiting for you. just the warmth of logan’s arms, the steady sound of his breathing, and the quiet promise that whatever came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

[mwahsol]

Jewelry with initials

Description: You and Paige are in a semi-private relationship, as she's doing an interview the interviewer notices a certain ring on Paige's hand. The ring on Paige's hand is the one you usually wear with your initials on it. When the interviewer asks Paige about the ring, she hints about your relationship.

“So Paige I couldn't help but notice that there's a certain ring on your hand that has an initial of someone very familiar.”

“I mean what can I say it's a nice ring.”

‘Does the ring belong to a specific teammate that may or may not wear the number 12?’

‘Yo not too much, but yeah it's her ring. I wanted to bring a little something of hers with me because she couldn't come with me so it'll do for now.”

“Aww that's so cute seeing your close bond.”

After hearing that Paige can feel her face heating up and the smirk she's been trying to hide is slipping through as she answers, “Yeah for sure, but imma see her in a week so when she gets here she can give me my chain back.”

As soon as those words slipped out of her mouth the interviewer had to get all the information she could, “Oh she has something of yours too? Who's idea was it to swap items so you both could have something?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle remembering how she was almost ready to beg you to just come to Seattle with her, being too impatient to wait a bit to hold you again.

“Baby I’m going to see you in probably less than a week. I just need to visit my mom for a bit.” Even though she understands she can't help but be clingy towards you, I mean how could she not she follows you around like a puppy most of the time not ever wanting to be too far from you. “I know mama I’m just gonna miss you.” As you see Paige pouting on your bed you can't help but walk up to her, you settle in between her thighs and hug her around her shoulders while she wraps her arms around your waist and buries her head in your chest. To make her feel a little better you come up with a cute small idea, “How about I give you something of mine that you can wear so in a way I’ll be there hm? How does that sound love?’ Her head instantly shoots up so you can see the excitement in her eyes making you giggle a little. “Really? Can I pick it out?” She's too cute, “Of course you can.”

“Ok but if I get something of yours then you have to wear something of mine.’ Even though that wasn't part of your original plan you couldn't help but blush at the fact that she wants you to have something so you won't miss her too much. “I wouldn't be opposed to that”

As she gets up and looks through your jewelry box she sees the ring you wear almost all the time, except when you're playing or at practice, “Can I get this one babe?’ You knew how the public knew that ring was specifically yours. It had your initials on it and you know how much the public loves Paige, you know they're more than likely to ask her about it if they notice, and if they don't then all of the fans will. “Are you sure P? I don't want to make you comfortable if they start asking questions about it,” her heart swells up with adoration seeing how much you care and think about her first. “I’m sure, private not secret remember. I’d be happy if they asked me about you. I won't get into too much detail obviously but I can drop a few hints here and there but only if you're comfortable with it mama.” God, she knows how to make you blush, as you look down a giggle a little getting a bit shy you say, “Of course, I am, just wanted to make sure with you first.”

Paige can't help but admire how even after almost two years she still has this effect on you. “Ok, since I got your ring, how do you feel about wearing my gold chain with my initial on it so we kinda match.” You can see her little smirk knowing how much you love that necklace and can't help but say yes to getting the opportunity to wear it again. “Sounds perfect.”

“Nah it was hers but I added a little but that's it,” the interviewer and soon the audience will be able to see how giddy she was just to talk about you.

“Alright Paige, thank you for talking with us. Good luck and hopefully you see y/n soon,” she couldn't help but laugh towards the ending seeing how Paige was so happy just to hear your name.

“Ay thank you, have a good rest of your day.”

What Paige didn't notice is that while she was being asked about you and remembering the day you traded pieces, she was playing with your ring and smiling so hard that people would rewatch the interview and repost it everywhere talking about how your guy's relationship was definitely more than platonic.

I'm slowly releasing things please bare with me y'all, law is kicking my ass and my job is NOT helping. I promise I'm trying to rerelease my old work and somewhat write new ones. LOVE YALL THO <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[shdysders]

if only

pairing: tara carpenter & reader

summary: if only tara would’ve chosen you for you, and not for who you were like.

word count: 3.2k

You knew it was normal for people to turn to alcohol after experiencing trauma.

The way it numbed the pain, dulled the sharp edges of haunting memories—it was something you had seen before, something you understood. After everything Tara had been through, it was the least you expected.

The massacre in Woodsboro had left her with more than just physical scars.

The betrayal of someone she had once loved—Amber, who turned out to be Ghostface—was a wound that cut deeper than any knife.

It wasn't just the shock of Amber's true identity, but the fact that Tara was the one who had to pull the trigger, killing the person she thought she knew in order to save her sister.

The memories of that night were like a broken record, stuck on replay.

Every time Tara closed her eyes, she was back in that room, her hands shaking as she held the gun, her heart pounding in her ears.

She would hold you tighter during those moments, as if the strength of her embrace could keep the nightmares at bay.

The way she kissed you harder, more desperately, or questioned where you were every time you left the room—these were her ways of keeping you close, of making sure she wouldn't lose you too.

You had known Tara all her life.

Growing up together, you'd always been close, but after everything that happened in Woodsboro, something had shifted between you.

It started small—extra moments of closeness, lingering touches that lasted just a little too long, her leaning on you more than ever before.

The change was subtle at first, but undeniable. When she started seeking you out not just for comfort but for something deeper, you couldn't bring yourself to resist. The truth was, you had started to feel something more for Tara too.

But as the days went by, you couldn't ignore the creeping doubt. That maybe you were just another distraction for Tara, another way to keep the darkness at bay.

Yet, whenever that doubt arose, she would somehow sense it, her arms wrapping around you tighter, her voice low and reassuring, even without you needing to say a word. That unspoken understanding only seemed to confirm your thoughts.

After the move from Woodsboro to New York, you had hoped that a change of scenery might help her start to heal.

But you weren't sure if it had made a difference. If anything, the bustling city seemed to give her more ways to bury her grief.

Tara threw herself into the whirlwind of college life, attending every party she could find, which in New York meant there was always something going on.

Every weekend, without fail, she was out late, coming home blackout drunk more often than not.

You were the first to notice the change in her. The way her hands trembled slightly when she thought no one was looking, the dark circles under her eyes from sleepless nights, and the way she buried herself in the noise and chaos of those parties—anything to keep from facing what was inside.

She would beg you to come with her to these parties, holding your hand a little too tightly as if fearing you might slip away in the crowd.

On nights when you had to study or work at your extra job, she would assure you she was fine to go alone.

But that assurance never lasted, always ending with you getting a call in the early hours to come and get her, to carry her back home when she was too far gone to stand on her own.

And tonight was no different.

You had been studying late into the night, the quiet hum of the city outside your window doing little to keep you company as you poured over your textbooks. The words on the pages blurred together as exhaustion settled in, but your mind wouldn't let you rest.

The quiet of your apartment seemed more restless than usual, and no matter how many times you turned over, sleep eluded you. You were used to going to bed alone on nights like this, used to Tara being out and about, so it wasn't her absence that kept you awake. Still, something nagged at the edge of your consciousness, keeping you from drifting off.

Finally, just as you felt yourself slipping into sleep, your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up the room. Groggily, you reached for it, squinting at the brightness.

It was Chad. Your heart sank a little as you answered, knowing that a call from him at this hour could only mean one thing. Yet you didnt hesitate before answering

"She's asking for you," Chad said quietly, his voice gentle but insistent. "She's... she's pretty far gone, and she won't leave until you come."

You rubbed a hand over your face, trying to shake off the fog of near-sleep. "Where are you?" you asked, already pulling on your clothes.

He gave you the address of some off-campus apartment, the kind of place that always seemed to be hosting a party. With a sigh, you grabbed your keys and headed out into the night.

The streets were empty as you drove, the glow of the city lights casting long shadows across the pavement.

You knew the route by heart now, having made similar drives more times than you wanted to count.

As you pulled up to the address Chad had given you, you spotted him standing by the curb, holding Tara up as she swayed on unsteady feet.

She was dressed as a pirate, her costume in disarray, her hat missing, and her eyeliner smudged. Her head lolled slightly as Chad helped her toward your car, her feet dragging along the pavement.

"Thanks for coming," Chad said quietly as he eased her down into the front seat. He lingered for a moment before adding, "I don't know how many she's had tonight."

You nodded, trying to muster a tired smile. "Thanks, Chad. I'll take it from here."

He gave you a sympathetic look before stepping back. "Be careful," he said, the concern clear in his voice.

Once Chad closed the door, you turned to Tara.

She was slumped against the seat, her eyes half-lidded as she stared out the window, lost in whatever haze the alcohol had put her in.

For a moment, you considered trying to talk to her, to get her to see reason, but you knew better. This wasn't the time for deep conversations, not when she was like this.

As you started the car and began driving, you couldn't help but break the silence. "Tara, you can't keep doing this. This needs to stop."

You didn't know how much longer you could stand by and watch her destroy herself.

She blinked slowly, turning to look at you with bleary eyes. For a moment, she just stared, as if trying to process what you had said. Then her expression hardened, her brows knitting together in a frown.

"I don't need you telling me what to do," she muttered, her voice slurring but laced with irritation.

"Amber wouldn't have."

This was always how it went—her getting pouty and defensive, like a child refusing to be told what to do. She always brought up Amber whenever she was drunk, throwing her name out like a shield, deflecting from the real issue at hand. It hurt to hear, but you were used to it by now.

You sighed, and after a moment, you answered softly, "I know."

When you finally pulled up in front of your apartment building, getting Tara inside proved to be a struggle.

She stumbled with every step, her legs barely supporting her weight, and you had to practically carry her up the stairs.

Every time she leaned too heavily on you, you feared you both might topple over, but you held on, determined to get her inside without waking anyone.

By the time you reached your door, you were exhausted.

Tara mumbled something incoherent as you fumbled with the keys, trying to keep her upright.

Once inside, you helped her move as quietly as possible to avoid waking Sam. The last thing you needed was her storming out and seeing Tara like this, not again.

With Tara still leaning heavily on you, you guided her to her bedroom, the familiar path feeling longer than usual.

She was stumbling more than walking, and every time she nearly slipped, you tightened your grip, your patience worn thin but still holding.

You finally managed to get her into her room, her weight heavy against your side as you guided her to the bed.

The moment her legs hit the edge, she let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You know, sometimes I think I'm just with you because it's easy," she muttered, her words slurred but cutting through you like a knife.

You winced, though you tried to hide it, focusing on helping her sit down.

The bed creaked under her as she slumped forward, her hands gripping the edge as if the room were spinning around her.

Her eyes, glazed over with a mix of alcohol and exhaustion, seemed unfocused.

"Like... you're just there, and I needed someone. Anyone."

She let out another laugh, this one quieter, more resigned. You could see the way her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her even as she kept talking.

Her words hurt, stabbing into you with a cruel edge, but you knew better than to take them at face value when she was like this. Still, it was hard not to feel the sting of her honesty—or what passed for honesty in her drunken state.

You stayed silent, biting your lip to keep from saying something you'd regret.

Instead, you knelt down in front of her, gently removing her shoes one by one, focusing on the small, mundane task to keep your hands from trembling.

You told yourself she didn't mean it, that she was just drunk and hurting, but the doubt was there, creeping in like a shadow.

Tara didn't stop, the alcohol loosening her tongue further. She swayed slightly, her eyes glassy but filled with something unreadable, something that made your heart twist in your chest.

"Maybe if... if things had been different, I wouldn't have picked you," she continued, her voice wavering.

Her words were slow, as though she were piercing them together as she went, each one a careful, painful blow. "It's not like you're the love of my life or anything. You were just... there."

Her gaze finally met yours, and for a moment, she seemed almost vulnerable, like she was teetering on the edge of something she couldn't pull back from.

You searched her face, looking for some sign that she didn't mean it, that this was just the alcohol talking, but all you found was the deep, gnawing ache of doubt.

Your throat felt tight as you fought back the urge to cry, the tears welling up despite your best efforts to push them down.

It was one thing to know she was drunk, that she was hurting and lashing out—but it was another to hear those words from someone you loved. To feel so disposable.

You took a shaky breath and forced yourself to focus on the moment, not the weight of her words. But the hurt lingered, a heavy presence in the room that you couldn't shake.

Still, you swallowed hard, keeping your voice steady. "Arms up. Let's get you changed."

She hesitated, her gaze lingering on you as if searching for a reaction. When she didn't get one, she huffed in frustration but lifted her arms anyway, letting you help her out of her costume and into more comfortable clothes.

You gently guided her arms into the sleeves of a soft, oversized shirt, the fabric brushing against her skin as you helped her pull it down.

Tara swayed slightly, her head lolling to one side, but you remained focused, carefully easing her out of her costume.

As you slipped her into a pair of comfy sweatpants, you noticed how she barely reacted, her eyes staring blankly at a spot on the floor.

You adjusted the waistband and made sure the pants were comfortable, avoiding any pinching or tightness.

With the costume set aside, you carefully adjusted her shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles and ensuring it fit comfortably.

You avoided meeting her gaze, you could feel her stare and how she was looking at you. Angry, like everything you did was wrong.

You helped her lay down on the bed. You adjusted the pillow behind her head and reached for the covers, but before you could pull it over her, Tara's voice broke the silence.

She looked up at you, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke of frustration and raw emotion. There was a hardness in her gaze, as if she was challenging you with the truth she was about to reveal.

"You know I only chose you because you're like her, right?" she said, her voice laced with anger, as if saying Amber's name was an effort in itself.

You froze, your hand still hovering above the covers. Even though you already knew who she was talking about, you asked quietly, "Like who?"

Tara's eyes bore into yours, and she said sharply, "Amber."

The anger in her voice was palpable, but you could also sense regret hiding beneath her words, as if she knew how much she was about to hurt you but couldn't stop herself.

You took a deep breath, trying to mask the sting you felt in your chest. "How come?" you asked, keeping your voice as steady as you could, even though your heart was pounding.

Tara looked at you with a sharp gaze, almost inspecting your face for any hint of vulnerability.

When she didn't get the reaction she was searching for, it was as though something darkened behind her eyes, pushing her to keep going, to say worse things, as if she could force you to break.

She looked at you with unfocused eyes, her expression tight. "You look just like her when you smile," she slurred, her tone was sharper now, as if the words were meant to cut deep.

"The way your eyes crinkle up, it's like you're her twin or something."

She paused, a hint of bitterness in her tone. "And your laugh—God, it's just like hers. It gets under my skin.

As she spoke, her words seemed to drift into a bitter, almost mocking tone, as if the resemblance to Amber was a cruel joke to her. The laughter in her voice contrasted sharply with the hurt it left behind.

You stood there, feeling increasingly insecure about your smile, your laugh, and everything that had been said. The sting of her words left you questioning everything you thought you knew about how you presented yourself to her.

Her words felt like knives, each one slicing through you, but you remained still, biting back the pain. Inside, a storm of emotions raged—anger, sadness, disbelief—but you fought to keep them at bay, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.

"You're always trying to be so understanding, acting like you know exactly what I need. It's exhausting, really," Tara continued, her voice growing harsher, the alcohol pushing her to say things she might've kept hidden otherwise.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

Memories flashed through your mind—times you had gone out of your way to do things for her, to make her feel better or to bring a smile to her face.

You had done so much because she asked or because you hoped it would mean something to her. But now, it felt as if everything you had done was just a game or a trivial pursuit in her eyes.

When she still didn't get the reaction she wanted, Tara's voice rose, almost desperate now. "You don't matter, you know? Not like she did."

That last statement shattered something inside you. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from spilling over, but they came anyway, hot and unwelcome.

The room seemed to close in around you, her words echoing in your head.

You knew—deep down, you'd always known—that you couldn't compete with a ghost, with the memory of someone she loved so deeply.

Tara had brought Amber up countless times before, always with a mix of regret and longing that you had tried to ignore. Each mention of Amber, every story she told with a hint of nostalgia or pain, was a reminder that you were always secondary in her heart.

You remembered the times when, after a few too many drinks, Tara had let slip how Amber had been irreplaceable, how no one could ever fill that void.

You had brushed off those comments, hoping that with time, you could make her forget or at least help her heal.

But now, standing here, the truth was undeniable. You had tried so hard to be what she needed, but you could never be what she wanted most.

And yet, Tara wasn't done. Her voice grew louder, almost as if she wanted the whole world to hear her torment.

Her gaze was distant, and she started to laugh bitterly. "You have no idea how badly I want to break up with you," she slurred, her voice rising with a frustrated intensity.

Her voice grew louder, and you were starting to worry she would wake Sam up. "You look at me with all this love. And I can't handle it. It's like... I feel suffocated by how much you care, and it's not even real for me."

You swallowed hard, struggling to keep your voice steady as you tried to process the pain. "I'm sorry," you said, the words barely escaping your lips, as if saying them aloud would make the hurt even more real.

Tara's eyes were drooping now, her anger slowly dissolving into exhaustion. But before she could drift off, she mumbled, almost as if to herself, "Might as well tell you the truth... you'll probably stay anyway, right?"

Her tone was a mix of bitterness and resignation, as if she knew, deep down, that no matter how much she tried to push you away, you would still be there.

Her words stung more than anything she'd said before, and you felt your chest tighten.

You took a shaky breath, your own emotions raw, and wiped away the tears that had started to fall. Forcing a smile, even though it felt like a fragile mask, you gently pulled the covers up around her, smoothing them with careful, tender motions.

As you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, you noticed her breathing was becoming more even, the last traces of consciousness slipping away. "Goodnight, Tara," you said quietly, your voice trembling as you tried to keep it as gentle as possible.

She murmured something incoherent, her words tired and slurry, before finally succumbing to sleep. You lingered for a moment, watching her with a heavy heart, wishing you could make her see how much you truly cared.

As you walked out of her room, the quiet of the apartment settling around you like a heavy weight, you paused at the door. The hurt from her words still fresh, you whispered to the empty space, the heavy words that she couldn't hear.

"I love you."

[naburi]

WILL YOU AVAIL ME AGAIN?

DAHYUN X READER

TAGS: DILDO PLAY, LUBE, BODY OIL, TONGUE PLAY, MISSIONARY, DOUBLE PENETRATION, DOGGY, ANAL

3.4K WORDS

Midnight and still awake, browsing to find a video that will satisfy you for tonight. It seems like you're looking at identical girls, fake big boobs, slim limbs, small waists. They all look the same which you find boring, not until you found her video. Her smooth thick legs are spread to front her tight pink slit, pleasuring herself in front of the camera, only wearing a face mask to hide her identity. “She looks like my coworker”, you said. Milky white skin, thick legs, broad slim shoulders. You didn’t give too much thought to the similarities not until you saw your coworker later that day.

You’re a young corporate man who can’t find romance to have a meaningful connection. You thought finally finishing college will improve your sex life, but what you found is the opposite. Everyone is busy in the fast paced workplace. Nobody has the time to build relationships, you are all too tired to go out to satisfy your sexual life. That’s why you start to lean on watching adult content. It’s easy, quick, and convenient as you can all have different platforms to have access to numerous adult content creators.

“MS. KIM,” you caught yourself calling Ms. Kim's attention. The thought of the woman you watched last night flashes on your mind. Dahyun looks back, “Hi, Mr. y/n, can I help you?,” she asked politely while still baffled you shouted her name. “I… I… No, I don’t have anything to say,” you say nervously. You don’t even know why you called her name. Feeling embarrassed, you apologize to Dahyun and quickly go back to your cubicle. The woman was left standing processing what just happened.

“It’s her right?” You said to yourself, rushing back home, not even bothered to change clothes. You pull out your phone to go back to the website you found the video. You found her page and surfed through her contents. Her first upload was 6 months ago. She goes from posting just the bottom half of her body, cropped from shoulder up, to revealing her head which still keeps her identity with a white face mask. She consistently uploads every week, most of her videos are just herself playing with her slit with different dildos, she also posts a quick video teaser having an intercourse but you need to subscribe to her page to have access to her adult contents.

Dahyun has a great image in your company. She's the youngest but already has few promotions due to her work ethic and dedication. There are rumors that her quick ascension to the corporate ladder is not because of her hard work but due to what she can do for you after work hours. The rumors didn’t hit the ground enough because of how well she befriended everyone in the company. Her young angelic face helps but what caught everyone’s heart is her bubbly personality that shines bright in the dull and depressing workplace.

It’s been a week now, you took every instance to get an interaction with the company’s princess. From personally passing some documents, to having conversations with someone in her department. Dahyun is not in the same department as you thus making your investigation more complicated. You thought about stalking her social media accounts but all are in private. You started befriending her close coworkers but good things about her are the only thing they talk about. Finding proof that they are the same person seems like an impossible task thus you finally gave up. Nothing would change if you prove that they are the same person, it’s not like you will snitch on the company’s princess after all.

Heavy rain pours just as you’re about to clock out. You and your coworkers are standing outside of the entrance waiting for the rain to die down. A white SUV pulls up in front of you, the driver’s window rolled down, its Ms. Kim, “come inside, I'll drop you off at the subway station.” Some of your coworkers who also take a subway with you ride the SUV. Everyone is too shy to take the passenger seat including you. “You can’t all fit in the back, one should sit beside.” She said, nobody what’s to go in front but they manage to convince you. Sitting tightly on the passenger seat, your colleagues at the back keep asking questions to Ms. Kim, as they also what’s to get close to her, while you’re sitting quietly due to shyness.

Dahyun’s phone that’s on the dashboard lit up revealing a notification. You notice a familiar application icon and the text that says she has a new subscriber. This is the proof that you're looking for, Ms. Kim is an adult content creator. Your colleagues in the back didn’t notice the notification and Dahyun just casually turned down her phone, thinking you don’t know what the notification is all about. Everyone is thanking Ms. Kim for the ride, She noticed how happy you are but not giving more thoughts about it.

Arriving at home, you now have more reason to watch all her contents, you're watching the company’s princess pleasure herself. Everyone's beloved coworker is in an adult site spreading her legs for views and money. It's been a few nights now and her masturbation videos became repetitive. Your high needs satisfaction thus you now subscribe to her paid contents to watch her get fucked by different men, from local Koreans to foreigners, she let herself get fucked to make an content. Her most viewed content is where she pours body oil all over her body which highlights her white skin. Her glowing white oiled up skin, made the sex more erotic. Her buttocks made a heavenly sound as the guy is hitting her from behind, her small oiled boobs get massaged sensually before she takes the cock inside her again. Dahyun wails and moans under her face mask as she gets fuck harder. The few bucks you spend for her content is worth it.

You smile and interact with Ms. Kim during the day while touching yourself watching her contents at night, this has become your routine until she has not been in the office for a few consecutive days now. Nobody knows why she’s absent for a few days now and her manager doesn’t want to disclose her reason. Watching her videos doesn’t hit the mark anymore. You’re about to go sleep but a notification pops up on your screen. Dahyun just dropped a new subscription based content. You can subscribe to her live stream where you can select what kind of dildos she will use and what position she will do a live masturbation. How this works is you're gonna give her gifts during the stream for her to follow your instructions.

She announced that the live stream will start tomorrow at midnight. You’re one of the first subscribers that’s in her live, her legs spread open just like the first time you saw her content. Her one hand is caressing her slit while her other hand is fondling her breast, Different sizes of dildos and lubes lined up to her right side. One viewer starts giving gifts with his comments on the stream. She asked Dahyun to use a thick dildo. She lubes the dildo and slowly inserts it in her slit. The thickness of it gives her a hard time as her slit didn’t even get to warm up. Few attempts pass by and she finally gets to put it all inside her, she starts to moan as she’s pumping the thick dildo inside her.

“Use the tentacle dildo and sit on it,” one commented. Dahyun reads this as she gets notified for the gift. She poured lube to the dildo and started stroking it to spread the lube. She sticks it in front of the screen as she slowly impales herself in the tentacle shaped dildo. The unusual shape gives Dahyun a different sensation making her more horny, she grabs both of her boobs as she’s sitting up and down to the dildo. She started to play with her boobs without even an instruction. She’s massaging her under boobs upward then focusing her fingers on her nipples. One of the viewers commented that she should use oil as she’s caressing her boobs. Dahyun follows, quickly pouring oil on her chest, smothering it all over her boobs, her boobs massages get more erotic due to how smooth she caresses her two mounds.

“Use the black dildo, in your anal, sit on it” a viewer commented. The black dildo is noticeably inspired by a big black cock, it's shaped like one and in great detail. Dahyun uses two hands just to pour lube all over the dildo. She turned her back to the camera as she’s slowly sitting on it. Her big butt is now in full view, the sight of her ass taking the big black dildo is too erotic, Dahyun groans as her ass is getting stretched. The viewers are praising her on how erotic she is, they commented that her moans are heavenly. They keep giving gifts even without instructions as they are pleased with what she’s doing.

To your surprised, Ms. Kim is finally back in the office. Everyone greets her and wants to know the reason for her absences. You're happy to see your colleague but you’re too embarrassed to greet her as you know the real reasons why she’s having a hard time walking around the office. You heard that she’s saying to your coworkers that she has a sprained ankle is the reason she can’t walk straight. Nobody bats an eye as the company is just glad to finally see their bubbly princess.

You thought everything goes back to normal but it’s been a week now and Ms. Kim has nowhere to be found, her manager said that she filed for a long leave due to personal reasons. You took the subway with heavy feet as you’re saddened by the news, it seems like you developed an affectionate attitude towards your colleague and just wants to see her do well again. After taking a bath as an attempt to lift your mood. You saw a notification from Dahyun’s page. She’s offering a VIP subscription where you can meet her face to face. This subscription comes with a hefty price and you need to abide by 5 sets of conditions: you can’t remove her face mask during the session, you can’t asked for an oral sex, you can’t ask for her personal information, you can’t record anything during the session, you should wear protection during intercourse.

You didn’t waste any time and avail her VIP subscription even though it’s worth half of your monthly salary. After sending your payment. You received a message where she sends you a time and date where you can meet her. It’s on Saturday afternoon, in one of the hotels in the city. The sudden realization that Dahyun will know that you’re one of her subscribers sent you into a frenzy. You don’t want to cancel your meet up as this golden opportunity may not knock again.

It’s Friday night, you do a quick shopping for self care materials as you want to look good and smell good when you finally do it with Dahyun. You are embarrassed to buy packs of condoms as it’s been ages since you last bought one. It’s the day of the meet up. She sends you a message that she will wait for you in the room. You're now in front of the hotel, standing nervously while wearing… a face mask. You plan to also somehow conceal your identity to Ms. Kim because you don’t want to destroy your working relationship with her. This plan fails miserably as Dahyun can’t hide her shock expression the moment she opens the room door.

There’s an awkward air in the hotel room. It seems like the two of you might not do it out of embarrassment. The silence in the room was broken by a pop up message on her phone. You notice how her expression changed as she read the message. Whatever is in the message is enough for Dahyun to ignore that her coworker will share the same bed as her. She laid her conditions in a serious tone as she removed her clothing, sitting naked on the center of the bed waiting for you to make a move on her.

You strip down your clothes in nervousness while only leaving the face mask. You awkwardly sit in front of the naked woman. You look in her eyes to see her expressions, but she doesn’t have any, it looks like she’s ready for whatever you want to do with her. You first touch her boobs, your two hands awkwardly reach to her mounds, carefully playing it. Dahyun knows that both of you will get satisfied with you still being cautious. “Mr. Y/n, I know it’s you, you can remove your face mask and do me as you please,” she said finally addressing the elephant in the room.

Dahyun’s message wakes you out of your nervousness. You’re here fuck the company’s princess and that’s what you do, you remove your face move and instructed her to lay down. The woman that you have been watching every night is not laying down in front of you. You position yourself on top of her reaching her two boobs again but this time, caressing them like how they deserve. Dahyun's boobs perfectly fit her body, and shaped her body to great proportions. The woman groans on how aggressive you mauled her boobs but you can’t help yourself due to how soft they are. Her pink nipples that you saw her playing on her content are now in the tip of your own fingers.

Dahyun yelps as you play her nipples. This encourages you to use your tongue to pleasure one of them. Flicking her nipple in a circular motion she grabs your hair to press your head even closer to her boobs. You notice that Dahyun also brings her toys with her. You reached out for her bag on the side table, from watching her oiled body to being the one pouring it to her. You pour directly on her nipples which caught her off guard by the wet sensation. From her nipples to her boobs, you massaged her body, smearing the oil in the process. Her white milky skin glistening, her smooth skin gets slippery making it easy to caress the rest of her body.

You pour oil down to her legs as well, massaging her thick legs, your fingertips move dangerously close to her slit which elicits a gasp from Dahyun as she’s anticipating it. You notice how she got wet after you massage her legs. You lick her slit up to taste your colleague. Dahyun keeps moaning as your tongue explores her slit. From her slit up to her clit, you lick every part of it, making your goal to eat Dahyun well. Your tongue focuses on flicking her clit, the woman jolts her hips in pleasure. You hold down her waist to keep her in place while continuing your barrage on her clit. You notice wetness in your chin due to Dahyun getting more wet. You hardened your tongue now and inserts in and out of her slit. The woman pushes your head down even more, while her other hand is stimulating her clit. You suck and lick your colleagues till she shakes her hips due to orgasm.

Dahyun is laying down letting her orgasm flow till she feels your tongue is now exploring her ass. Her ass is as pink as her slit, you spit on it as lube before you slowly lick her ass. Her legs started to move uncontrollably as she’s not used to her ass getting licked. From soft circular motions to fast in and out of her ass, every touch of your tongue elicits a loud moan from Dahyun. You notice she used one of her dildos to rub her slit while you're eating her down there. This signals to you that she’s ready.

You stand up to wear a condom while Dahyun can’t wait as she’s already shoving a dildo in her slit while she’s waiting for you. You smirk as your naughty colleague can’t wait any longer. Spreading her legs up. You position your cock in front of her slit that still has a dildo inside it. You pull the dildo out of her and it reveals how her slit forms into a hole that accommodates the size of the dildo. Dahyun is looking at your cock seamlessly entering her slit. The feeling of a warm cock can’t beat any size or shape of a dildo she thought. You hold her small waist as you gradually quicken up the pace. Hands on her face masks to cover her mouth, she’s embarrassed how her coworker can make her moan this load. Her muffled moan only adds to your fuel to fuck the company’s princess like she’s your slut.

You hear Dahyun calling your name through her covered mouth, her walls tightening, the woman is near her orgasm. You now hold her wide hips to get a better grip of her as you rammed your cock deep inside her as face as you could. Dahyun let go of her mouth to let a loud moan echo all throughout the room. You let her orgasm again while your cock is still inside her. Pulling out, you want to keep her slit stimulated. You put the dildo back inside her as you asked Dahyun to masturbate using her dildo while you fuck her from behind. You position her in a doggy position, her ass still wet from your tongue assault earlier on. She felt your tip bump in the entrance of her ass. Dahyun’s face is in the bedsheet, one hand plowing the dildo in her slit, she felt your warm cock slowly entering her ass. The woman groans lowly as she’s taking it all deep in her. Dahyun tight ass is no Joke, even though this ass takes the biggest of dildos, it’s still tight like it’s begging to get worn down. Dahyun has a big white ass which is impaled with your cock. Every slap to her meaty ass leaves a red mark of your hand. You both groaned as you started to move your cock in and out of her. You remember the endless nights you watched this big ass of her get fucked by dildos or other men, but for this moment, it’s yours to destroy. You plow your cock slowly and deep in her ass making sure your tip reaches as deep as your can. Dahyun is now biting her face mask, muffling her cries of pleasure. You began to move your cock at a quicker pace which made Dahyun speak inaudibly. She can’t move her dildo anymore as she’s getting too stimulated on how you fuck her ass. You’re now maintaining a quick pace plowing her ass, Dahyun cries your name as all she knows now is how your cock pleasuring all parts of her tight ass. She tried to reach for your arm that is holding her hips to signal you that she can’t take it anymore. Dahyun is about to turn into a mess. Her body drops on the bed but you still keep fucking her ass. Dahyun doesn't know how long it has been but she noticed when you asked her if you can cum on her back. She can only muffled a “Yes,” before you remove your cock in her ass and spray paint her back with all your cum.

The woman fell asleep for a few minutes before sitting up like she’s in a hurry. She asked if she could leave now, still catching your breath. You agreed to leave together. “I need money, my brother is sick, he will undergo operations next week,” Dahyun said as she’s driving you to the subway station. Without asking a question, she answered what you’re terrified to ask. You listen to her story while she’s driving you to the subway station. Her parents are too old to work, her family is only dependent on her. She asked if you can keep this between the two of you. She said she will go back to work after her brother’s operation.

“Will you avail me again?” Dahyun jokingly asked.

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[silverdragonfly]

Homecoming | Aemond x Reader

part i here or can be read as a standalone

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

warnings: !MDNI! mature content (p in v, oral fem-receiving, daddy kink, praise, riding, unprotected sex, language). English isn't my first language.

word count: 4K

summary: 8 days Aemond spent on a business trip with his brother. 8 days that felt like an eternity. 8 days are finally over, and he’ll be home very soon.

a/n: i hope you enjoy the taste of this reunion! feedback, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated 💗

divider credit @cafekitsune

7:23 PM, Aemond 🤍: On my way home

7:24 PM, You: Waiting for u ❤️ 

Vhagar stretches out on the shoe rack, licking her paw and paying extra attention to her claws, making you glance at your own manicure. She knows he'll be home soon; it’s her regular waiting spot. Whenever you and Aemond come home together, she’s always lying on the shoe rack, keeping an eye on the front door. Afterwards, she jumps off and lazily saunters toward her food, as if your return doesn’t really matter to her.

26 minutes—that’s how long the ride from the airport usually takes. Another 26 minutes of waiting. You spent the entire day cleaning the apartment, and the evening was dedicated to cooking. Aemond said he wouldn’t mind ordering takeaway, but you needed to distract yourself from mindlessly checking the time as if house chores could make the time go faster. Surprisingly, it worked.

Your phone lights up with a notification.

7:28 PM

Aegon sends a message.

Furrowing your brows, you tap on the notification. There’s a photo of Aemond in his Black Sabbath t-shirt and Adidas pants, striding through the airport with his two suitcases. You burst into giggles at the message.

Aegon: I think he’s trying to kill me with THAT look. HELP

You're quick to type back. 

You: Must be a reason

You follow the three moving dots as Aegon types his response.

Aegon: Literally none

Aegon: Okay maybe one

Aegon: Or two

You: I might say a word on your behalf…

Aegon: Yohooo!

Aegon: u 2 have my blessing! 🙌

7:31 PM.

Looking out the window, the city sprawls out like it’s resting in your palm. Millions of other windows beam with lights, and the traffic creates a sparkling, moving line, all visible from the top floor of your apartment. You clearly remember being freaked out for the first time you got close to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Aemond had to come and hug you from behind; only then did you feel safe, with his broad chest pressed against your back and his veiny hands holding you securely by the waist. He rested his chin in the crook of your neck, and you could see the reflection of your sheepish smile in the glass.

Straightening your oversized cotton t-shirt over your shorts, you wonder if it's too late to change into something more... lacy. You’ve long passed the stage of trying to impress each other with such small things. But sometimes, the small things speak volumes about deeper intentions.

You flinch at the sound of the alarm clock.

7:35 PM – alarm: Pie.

Moving into the adjacent kitchen, you turn on the LED lights, and the matte beige cabinets glow warmly. Pressing the off button, you open the oven, quickly turning away from the billowing steam. The mouth-watering aroma of apple and cinnamon fills the air. Wearing kitchen gloves, you take the springform pan and place it on the stove. A fork pierces the pie, sinking into the soft pastry and revealing no trace of raw dough inside.

Perfect.

You cover the pie with a cotton kitchen towel.

With a clink, you take two plates from the cupboard and place them on the wooden table. The cutlery follows. You’ll light the candles during dinner.

At the sound of Vhagar’s meow, you rush toward the door, your heart racing faster. The cat is already sitting on the front door rug, her round green eyes fixed on the entrance.

“Vhagar, move aside,” you gently nudge her further inside the hallway. The last thing you need is to chase her down the stairs to the ground floor.

Unlocking the door swiftly, you find Aemond standing there, keys frozen in his hand, lips spreading into a smile.

“Hi, love,” his voice comes out velvety.

Your hands instantly reach for his neck as he lifts you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your legs swing in the air as he spins you around, happiness flooding through you as you inhale his musky cologne. Squealing with delight, you don't care if you look silly.

“I missed you so much,” you giggle as he plants gentle kisses along the crook of your neck before pressing his lips to yours in a short, sloppy kiss.

“I missed you too,” he whispers in your ear.

He’s yours, he’s finally home, and—

“Phew, you two are disgustingly sweet.” Aegon’s voice cuts in, making you peek awkwardly over Aemond’s tensed shoulder.

Your lips part in surprise but quickly turn into a smile.

“Hi, Aeggie,” you say as your feet touch the ground again. Stepping between the suitcases, which roll in different directions, he walks into the apartment clearly unbothered as always.

“Hi, Y/N, you look gorgeous!” he says, brushing past Aemond to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“How was your trip?” you ask, helping Aemond push one of the suitcases into the hall, propping it against the wall near the kitchen.

"Good. What’s that smell?" Aegon's gaze shifts toward the kitchen as he walks further into the apartment, his nose twitching. “I’m staying at yours tonight. Shall we dine and watch Avengers?” He grabs a shrimp from the salad and pops it into his mouth, moaning in praise.

“Mm, delicious!”

You give Aemond a confused look, but he just rolls his eyes.

“He’ll just pee and leave.”

“Rude,” Aegon replies, pointing a finger at his brother. “You know how important it is to stay hydrated during a 12-hour flight?”

“Easier when you’re not hungover,” Aemond retorts, irony lacing his voice as he kicks off his white Adidas.

“You need to talk to him,” Aegon nods at you, popping another shrimp into his mouth before heading down the hall.

“Second door on the left,” Aemond calls after him as he scoops Vhagar into his arms, his demeanour softening instantly.

“Hi, girl!” he coos, pressing a few kisses into her soft fur. “I missed you too.”

You bite back a smile as the cat purrs softly.

Leaning closer to him, you pet Vhagar’s back and quietly suggest, “He can stay for dinner, you know.” Aemond shakes his head, stroking the cat under her chin.

“He’s fine.”

“Are you sure? He can’t be that bad.”

When Aemond meets your gaze, you notice the bags under his eyes, mirroring your own under the thick concealer you applied earlier. Among all the evening plans, dinner and a long rest seem the most urgent.

The door creaks open, and Aegon reappears, humming a tune.

As Aemond sets Vhagar down, she trots toward the suitcases, inspecting them with her nose, her tail in the air.

“Dine with us?” Aemond nods toward the table. “But no Avengers,” he adds firmly, making Aegon laugh.

“What’s the point, then? Nah, I’m good. All by myself,” he sings in a dramatic, high-pitched voice. “Besides, I have a dentist appointment in an hour.”

Aemond clicks his tongue, and you glance at him, amused.

“He’s got a date with a dentist he met a few hours ago.”

“Hot dentist chick,” Aegon corrects casually.

“Why do you call it a dentist appointment, then?” you ask, laughing.

He shrugs. “Well, because she’s a dentist.”

“Or maybe somebody can’t commit?” Aemond teases, a faint smirk on his lips.

“Firstly, commitment is boring. Secondly…” Aegon pauses, holding Aemond’s gaze and snapping his fingers as if in thought. “Eh, fuck whatever!”

With that, he strides toward the door. “Enjoy dinner!”

“Thanks, Aeggie! Have a great dentist appointment,” you call after him with a wink.

As the door shuts behind him, you and Aemond both let out a relieved sigh. But the door swings open again, and Aegon bursts in like a hurricane.

“And have good sex!”

The door slams shut once more.

Your laugh gets muffled against Aemond’s chest as his arms wrap around you, making you feel incredibly safe and secure. Suddenly, the apartment itself feels more like a real home.

“You survived that,” you say with a soft chuckle.

“Mm,” he hums, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I was counting the days till... this,” he whispers, inhaling deeply against your hair, as if savouring your scent. Your hands trace soothing circles on his broad back.

“Dinner?” you suggest with a smile, gazing up at him.

“Yes,” he murmurs, “but first, I need a quick shower.”

His face glows copper in the candlelight. You press your hands to your cheeks, feeling the ache from smiling all evening. Sitting inches away from him, you can’t believe your happiness.

“And then it turned out that the entire week, Baela and I were attending the intermediate class. We couldn’t figure out why yoga suddenly felt like torture,” you say, stabbing a piece of pie with your fork and taking a bite. The dessert is practically melting on your tongue. “Today is the first day I don’t actually feel sore.”

You notice the flicker of emotion in Aemond’s eyes, but he doesn’t comment on your words. Instead, he takes a bite of the pie, and you look at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Delicious,” he nods, taking another bite, making your smile widen.

“Glad to hear it!”

Glancing at the clock, you see it’s almost 10:00 p.m. Time flies so fast with him at your side. A tinge of self-reproach tells you that you should let him rest.

Rising from your chair, you start collecting plates and cutlery.

“It’s late. You need to get some sleep,” you say, walking into the adjacent kitchen and placing the dishes in the sink.

"Why don't we just use the dishwasher?" Aemond suggests.

“There are only a few plates. No need,” you reply, lathering the sponge and wiping the dishes thoroughly.

You hear the chair move against the floor; his barefoot steps are almost cat-like. As he wraps his arms around your waist, you resist the urge to lean into him.

“One more plate, and I’ll join you,” you say with a soft chuckle, but he seems to ignore your words, pressing a kiss to your temple and trailing his lips down to your cheek, then to your jawline.

“You know what else has been torture?” His husky voice sends shivers down your spine.

“What?” you ask, turning off the tap and setting the final plate aside.

“Not being able to touch you, to taste you, to feel you,” he murmurs, each word punctuated with a kiss to your neck, making you tilt your head to the side.

Your breath hitches as his hands slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your stomach before gently squeezing your breast through your bra. Your core tightens, a reminder of how needy you are. A week without his touch, and you feel like you could melt at just a few caresses. 

“Don’t you want to rest?” you ask, looking up at him. You know it’s been a 12-hour flight. You know you should insist he get proper rest. You know he never sleeps on planes. You know you'll have enough time for this.

But when his beautiful lips whisper, “I want you,” you can’t resist.

The next thing you know, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter, his mouth pressing urgently against yours. His tongue moves deeper, and you gladly let him in. He tastes of wine, cinnamon, and apples. Neither of you cares about the dishes clattering or the cutlery ringing as it falls to the floor.

Your hands find the hem of his white T-shirt, and you pull it off with his help.  Your T-shirt quickly follows. Trailing your fingers along his collarbones, you clasp your arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, as he nudges your hips apart. You pepper his neck and chest with tiny kisses, giving attention to every inch of his body. Perfect. He’s perfect, just for you. You lick, you kiss, you bite. You wish you could devour him completely, and mould him into your skin so he’d never leave again.

His hand tangles in your hair, massaging your scalp, and you feel like you could purr under his touch. A hiss escapes your lips as he tugs your head back, goosebumps spreading across your body at the sensation. His kisses feel wet against your neck as he sucks on your skin, leaving love marks.

His other hand unclasps your bra, and you pull away to let it fall. Your nipples harden further in the cool air. His mouth envelops one, sucking gently before nipping it with his teeth, sending a moan escaping your lips. His hand remains tangled in your hair, adjusting your position for better access, and you obediently bend to his touch, getting drunk on his touch.

“I see you’ve been doing well with your yoga classes,” his words are a gentle puff against your breasts.

“Aemond, please…”

With that, his broad hand presses you fully against the counter, your body shivering at its coldness, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in your lower belly. As you prop yourself up on your elbows, your knees bend beneath his touch, your feet resting on the counter.

“Get that perfect ass up,” he murmurs, and you instantly obey. He strips off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, your body glows warmly under the kitchen light. You’d be self-conscious about your position if it weren’t for his worshipping gaze, taking in every curve and form. You furrow your brows as he steps away, only to return moments later with a chair, adjusting it with a teasing slowness right before you.

“What are you…?”

“Gonna eat my dessert,” he says bluntly, with that he settles himself on the chair, and pulls you closer by your hips, securing his hands mightily around them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks at the realisation of how unholy you must look, but the thought quickly drifts away as he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs, giving both of them his undivided attention. Your breath hitches as you feel his breath against your heated core, your entire body prickles with anticipation.

“Fuck!” You exhale deeply as his tongue traces a line along your outer lips before burying itself inside you. Your head hits against the kitchen counter, but there’s no pain—only pleasure. Your back arches as if an avalanche is surging beneath it, making you burn. You buck your hips against his mouth shamelessly, greedily. His hand presses against your pelvis, trying to hold you in place as he devours you—faster, deeper. He feasts on you like a man starved all his life.

You choke on your moans, calling out his name like a prayer. Your nails scratch the surface while your other hand grips his soft hair, urging him to lap at you with a ferocious intensity. His groans against you send waves of electricity through your body. The unrelenting heat of his gaze never leaves you, turning you into glowing embers. You lose your mind when his nose presses against your clit again and again. The spray of light from the lamp above you blurs into a halo, as if you’re glimpsing heaven itself. For sure, the pleasure he gives you and the climax that follows are beyond anything earthly.

Your feet slide off the counter to rest gently on his lap, and he presses his hands around your shins, drawing soothing circles as he waits for you to come down from your heights. Catching your breath, you sit up, swaying slightly on the counter. Aemond’s hair is dishevelled, with a few strands falling across his forehead. His lips, full and red, glisten with your juices. You reach out to clean him with your fingers, but he captures them with a slow, deliberate suck, savouring your taste. Your breath catches. Gods, he’s so beautiful. And yours.

Letting your fingers slip from his mouth with a soft pop, he leans closer. “You know what I think?” he murmurs, brushing the sweaty strands of hair from your neck, your eyes mesmerised by his lips. “That each dish you create is more irresistible than the last.”

Fuck. One phrase of his ignites a need within you again. His lips twitch into a smirk, as if reading your dirty mind, and all the things you wish to do with him, all the things you’d let him do to you.

“Shall we have another course in the bedroom?”

With that, he lifts you off the kitchen counter, carrying you toward the bedroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Vhagar dart into the kitchen toward her cat plate. You giggle softly against his chest.

“What’s funny?” he asks, curiosity lacing his tone.

“Baby Vhagar was just waiting for us to leave the kitchen.”

A chuckle escapes his lips. “Well, she’s got a few good hours, for sure.”

As he sets you down on the bed, your gaze is fixed on his happy trail while your hands eagerly tug at his Nike pants. Your bottom lip is caught by your teeth at the sight of precum soaking through his fabric. You slide his briefs down, and he quickly tosses them away. His cock is thick and hard before you, and your mouth suddenly feels dry. Aemond’s hand slides under your chin, prompting you to meet his gaze.

“You remember our conversation?” His voice is low, almost a purr, making your brows furrow. You’ve had quite a few conversations over time.

A dangerous glint dances in his eyes. “The one about the nicknames.”

Heat floods your cheeks as the memory returns. Oh. Shit. You swallow hard, and he doesn’t miss it. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile.

“So, do you enjoy it or not?” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, parting it just enough to push his finger inside your warmth, gathering saliva and spreading it across your mouth. A gesture that makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “Do you enjoy calling me daddy?”

Your body goes still. A mix of embarrassment and arousal swells inside you, even though it’s Aemond.

“Come on, tell me,” he urges, his voice sweet and coaxing. You give him a small nod, feeling the tips of your ears burn with blush.

A sense of triumph flickers in his eyes. “I fucking knew it,” he breathes. “There’s nothing to be shy about. You can tell me any desire of yours.” His hands cradle your face now, his touch both possessive and tender. “And I’ll make sure to satisfy them. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my girl. You hear me?” He presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Yes,” you say, feeling unconditional love bloom inside you.

He hums in approval, and with that, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you.

“Now, will you be a good girl and come sit on daddy’s cock?”

And that question alone feels like a match striking the haystack.

As you straddle his hips, his hands fall on your waist, his blue eyes following you closely. Grabbing his shoulders, you adjust yourself. When the tip of his dick brushes against your entrance, everything within you shivers with the anticipation. Swallowing him inch by inch, you sink yourself down on his length. Your gasp is muffled in his neck at the delicious stretch, your eyes prickling with tears. He’s so fucking thick.

His voice is hoarse against your ear. “Somebody’s gonna be sore again.” 

You see his jaw muscles twitch, as if restraining himself from taking matters into his own hands and jackhammering into you, but he patiently waits for you. Catching your breath, you slowly start moving your hips up and down, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You burn under the blue of his eyes. You see passion, you see lust, you see love, and you feel like you could burst from the feeling alone. It feels so heavenly to have him inside you again.

“Keep going, keep riding my cock like a good girl,” he praises you, his gaze watches ravenously as you’re bouncing on him, your folds greedily capturing his length.

He presses soft kisses against your jawline, shifting towards your ear, sucking on it before giving it a bite.

“I bet the stretch my cock gives you can’t compare to your yoga class.”

“Yes, yes,” you pant in response, your fingers weaving through his hair, tugging as your hips move faster.  The burn in your thighs only fuels the pleasure, throwing you deeper into a haze of desire. 

Aemond's eyes riveted to the soft sway of your breasts, mesmerised by their movement. There's a hunger in his stare, one that makes your skin tingle under his attention. A moment passes before he grips your hair and pushes you back, making your back arch. His mouth latches onto a nipple, sucking it while his other hand holds you steady. 

“Fuck, I just can't get enough of these,” his voice is a low growl.  His tongue swirls and sucks on your sensitive bud before he moves to the other, lavishing it with the same eager devotion. It’s been too long since they felt such exquisite attention, and every flick of his tongue sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

As your hips angled, his cock rubs against your g-spot perfectly, making you see stars but also slowing your pace down. You need to cum. You need a release or you’ll lose your mind.

“Daddy,” you whisper so quietly, that it almost surprised he hears you.

Letting your nipple slip with a lewd pop, he asks softly, “What’s that?”

Your words come out in fragmented syllables. “My hips are…ah.. tired.”

“Mm, you wanna daddy to take care of you?”

“Yes,” you nod eagerly, making him chuckle softly in response.

In a swift motion, he lifts your hips and turns you over on the bed, never letting his cock slip from your heat. The sheets are soft against your back. As he places your right shin upon his shoulder, holding it firmly, he begins to slam into you. Leaning forward, you capture the silver chain in your lips for a fleeting moment; the metal feels cool, a stark contrast to the heat of your bodies. But your head tips back as he sets a mind-blowing tempo, he pours all the love and lust he’s been containing inside into each thrust, throwing you over the edge like only he can. Your fingers dig into his back, undoubtedly leaving pink marks against his ivory skin, and you know you’ll be kissing those tomorrow morning.  

“Such a pretty, good girl.” Your eyes flutter, as he murmurs sweet praises in your ear, as you drown in pleasure, arching against him. “Gonna cum all over my cock, won’t you?”

Your moans come out as shuddered breaths. He looks at you in awe as if he were an artist trying to memorise each micro expression to turn you into the art. Your walls spasm and contract, as he fucks you through your orgasm. Through your blurred gaze, you see his eyes roll back as he spills himself inside you, sighing at the feeling of your walls taking every drop.

He stays inside you, letting your foot drop onto the bed as you feel his cock soften within you. His hand caresses your cheek, gently pulling a few naughty strands of hair from your mouth before kissing you, tangling his tongue with yours and drawing a soft moan from you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your nose. Your chest tightens at the sweet gesture.

“That was… Fuck!” Your eyes widen.

“I know.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” He furrows his brow at you. “I mean that was great, but fuck, we didn’t blow out the candles.”

“Fuck.”

Your legs are tangled with his, one of his arms cradling you beneath your body while the other securely wraps around your waist, holding you firmly in his embrace. His soft, rhythmic breath is a soothing caress against your shoulder. As your eyes flutter open, you see Vhagar sprawled on the floor, basking in a stream of sunlight, her green eyes fixed on you. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze at the fluffy creature, whispering, "Daddy's finally home."

With a relieved sigh, you let your eyes close, a sense of peace washing over you as you drift back into delicious sleep, safe and sound in his arms.

[propertyofemilyprentiss]

Soft skin and soft lips

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x non-bau fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Summary: Emily coming home from a case late at night, finding your stubborn form still awake (but not for long).

TWs: none

A/N: wrote this last week to cure my writer’s block (safe to say it did wonders). anyway! here’s my first fluff fic. enjoy <3

Word count: 1.5K

The sound of keys rustling into the door got you out from the half-asleep daydreaming state you were in after eliminating every possible distraction from boredom you had - a random TV show, scrolling endlessly on your phone, even cleaning the apartment. Normally, you would’ve gone to bed by now, but it was a Friday night and your girlfriend was coming home from a case, and you knew she would be exhausted after six days of tracking down another criminal. The least you could do is be awake when she gets home, though she always insisted that you didn’t need to do that.

But one thing was for sure - your stubbornness could almost compete with hers.

So here you were at almost one-thirty in the morning on your couch with a blanket over your legs, waiting for that magical sound. And as soon as you heard it, it felt like you’ve slept all day - you were wide awake, with a stupid smile on your face as you got up and went to greet Emily.

’’Hey, you”, came along with a long embrace as soon as she closed the front door behind her. 

You immediately noticed the corner of her lips moving upwards, her exhaustion temporarily fading when she got you back in her arms.

”Hey, I thought you'd be asleep by now”, she murmured, not really letting go, but pulling back enough to look at your face. That beautiful face of yours, those eyes that always made her heart skip a beat because of the look of pure adoration that engulfed them every time you saw her.

”And miss the opportunity of going to bed with my girlfriend tonight?”

The way you say that word, the way it lingers perfectly from the tip of your tongue, it’s almost embarrassing how you perfectly know how to tease her - she still gets flutters from it. She’s already sure by now that she will never get tired of hearing it, always making her feel like a lovesick teenager instead of a very capable FBI agent, for God’s sake.

”I missed you”, she whispers, her voice hinting the vulnerability she was feeling in that moment.

And that’s when you knew - the case was a lot tougher than usual. You didn’t need to ask questions, didn’t need any profiling skills to read the look in her eyes - the love, the worry, the exhaustion, the relief of your presence. It was all there.

That’s why you’ve always loved her eyes.

You smile affectionately, cupping her cheeks and planting a kiss on her forehead. And then you felt the urge to do more, continuing your kisses on both her soft cheeks to the tip of her nose, your own heart fluttering in your chest when she scrunched it adorably in response.

“I missed you too, love. Now how about a nice cup of tea while you go change, hm?”

Emily nods reluctantly, hating the thought of letting go of you in this perfect moment, but she knows that she can’t stay glued to you forever - though she would happily do it if she could. So the next best thing was a hot shower and a fresh pair of pajamas, knowing that you were waiting for her in the bedroom afterwards.

Her hands linger on your back for a moment before she forces herself to move away, but not before stealing a kiss, her lips tender against yours. 

“You missed that spot”, she teasingly whispered before heading towards the bathroom.

You couldn’t help the silly grin that emerged on your face, the flutters in your heart only increasing with her gesture. The way her lips are perfection, always in unison when they meet yours, the way she slightly squeezes her hands on your sides in a comforting way, the way her breath feels against your face-

‘God, get a grip on yourself’, you shook your head as you made your way to the kitchen, trying to do the impossible task of not falling in love even more as you made that cup of tea.

Searching through the top cabinet, you grabbed the only box there was, analyzing it for a moment. Berries, raspberries, strawberries - this should do it. You got one tea bag out, moving automatically around the kitchen with a comfortable familiarity as you gathered the rest of the supplies needed. And as you were waiting for the water to warm up, you inspected the mug with another stupid smile tugging at your lips.

“I ❤ my girlfriend” , was written with black font on a white background - you and Emily got a matching set after Garcia subtly suggested it at a girls’ night, rambling non-stop about how adorable it would be. And though you never thought you were that type of person, the idea immediately grew on you once you spotted Emily’s proud grin as she looked at you the whole time Penelope was talking.

Needless to say, those mugs were the most used ones in your apartment at the moment.

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting on your side of the bed, Emily’s mug waiting patiently for her on the nightstand while you were not so patiently waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. You leaned against the headboard and sipped from your own matching mug, but soon put it back down when you felt your eyelids grow heavy. This was not the moment to fall asleep.

But maybe five minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? You will definitely hear when she gets out, or when she joins you in bed. So you closed your eyes and melted back down on the soft mattress, sighing tiredly before unconsciously succumbing to sleep in record time.

—

Emily was humming a gentle melody as she got out of the bathroom, feeling much more refreshed and excited to see you again. She was already dreaming of that cup of tea and the thought of finally sleeping in the same bed as you instead of an uncomfortable hotel room without your presence.

”Dar-“, she stopped talking as soon as she saw you fast asleep, adorably gripping the blanket, your hair laying messily all over the pillow. She swore her heart just melted on the spot.

Carefully, she tiptoed to her side of the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible to avoid waking you up, and picked up her mug, another smile creeping on her face as her eyes landed on the words on it. Yes, this was indeed her favorite one. 

Well, everything that included you was automatically her favorite. 

A few sips later, she placed it back down on the nightstand, turned off the lights and compensated with her nightstand lamp, and slowly got into bed, rolling on her side to gaze at your sleeping form. Then, almost subconsciously, her fingers gently started tracing all the lines and features in sight, your slightly parted lips, your cheekbones, nose and eyebrows, taking in your peaceful expression. It’s almost unfair how beautiful you look even when you’re sleeping. 

“How did I get so damn lucky?”

With an even gentler motion, she snuggles up next to you under the blanket, letting her arm loosely around your waist while she buried her face in the crook of your neck, the familiar scent of your shampoo filling her nostrils. She lets out a long sigh, leaving all the stress and tension behind with it and setting herself present in this moment. With you here next to her, in your shared apartment, feeling your skin against hers and listening to the sound of your breathing, Emily finally feels the familiar sense of comfort and contentment - finally feels at home.

And God, how she missed this - she sometimes wished she could stay like this forever.

So, even if she can already feel herself starting to drift off, she forces herself to stay awake for a few more minutes, just savoring the moment of being close to you.

”I missed you”, she repeats against your chest. “I love you so much, it sometimes becomes scary, you know? When I’m away for more than usual, I dream of you…every single night. And somehow I wake up with my heart aching more for you”, she kept rambling in a whisper, taking advantage that you can’t hear her. “It’s like it can feel your absence in every place I go without you. And now I’m home and everything feels right again. Because you are here…thank you for being here”, her voice slightly trembled at the end.

And a few minutes later, after her breathing became deep and regular, signaling her asleep state, you let the smile finally break onto your face. You were definitely going to bug her about it in the morning.

”I love you too”, you said it back with the softest voice, placing one final kiss to her temple.

[forhappysake]

Never Forget a Face

A/N - Why is titling fics so hard? I used a Hunger Games quote because it fit so well so lmk if you can pick it out. Nearly 5K words, not proofread.

Summary - After the end of a bloody case, Emily tasks a begrudging Spencer with checking in on the newbie. Warnings - Spencer x fem!reader, typical BAU-level violence, murder, kn!ves, season 12/13 spoilers, extensive handwashing (?), a bitter post-prison reid with a grumpy x sunshine plot

My hands are stained red.

That was your first coherent thought as you stared in the bathroom mirror. The fluorescent lighting cast a pale glow over your face, making you look more ghostly than you already did. Your once blue shirt was covered in splotches. Your hands, dangling over the sink, were the color of burnt rust. 

As you turned on the faucet and applied soap to your hands, your brain replayed the events that brought you here. 

This was only your second case with the team. Hell, it was only your fourth case with the bureau. All you wanted to do was fit in. You’d heard great things about the BAU: the highly decorated Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, the face of the FBI - Jennifer Jareau, and the sought-after genius of Dr. Spencer Reid. 

The first case with the BAU had gone well. You’d done a lot of the grunt work, putting in an intense number of hours in a dingy police precinct pouring over paperwork with Dr. Reid, who kept telling you to call him Spencer. Despite this faux friendliness, you couldn’t help but get the feeling he was tired of working with you. 

Not that you could blame him. You were, by all definitions, a newbie. He had over a decade of experience and a serious reputation. A genius to boot, his sighs and looks often made you feel like you were in his way more than you were actually helping. Hence why, when Emily had asked for two volunteers to tail a suspect for the day, you’d quickly volunteered to go with the charming Luke Alvez. 

Six hours later, Luke, along with yourself, had tracked an unsub while he was taking his latest victim back to his home in a rural area. Back-up, which was supposed to be on the way, wouldn’t be there for at least twenty minutes. When the first blood-curdling scream rang out from the house, the two of you knew you had no choice but to act alone. 

Luke went in through the front door, making his presence known as you tiptoed around the side of the house to enter undetected. When you found a cracked window, you were able to slip inside without much issue. 

In that moment, you remembered hearing Luke attempting to talk down the unsub. You approached their voices, careful not to let anyone know you were inside. 

“How do you think this is going to end?” Luke asked the unsub, his voice firm. 

The unsub had laughed and the muffled cries of his victim could be heard from your spot. You tucked yourself quietly behind a hallway entrance into the room Luke was in. You peeked around the corner to let him know you were there. His only acknowledgment of you was a brief glance, but that was all you needed to know that he wanted you to stay in place. 

“I think,” the unsub started, with more cries coming from his captive, “that she’ll probably die before this is all over.” 

You tried to recall the profile. Emily’s voice replayed in your mind. 

“He kills with a knife and dumps the body in a secondary location, meaning he gets the women alone and gets close to them before he kills them. Based on the demographics of this region, he’s probably a white man. Likely in his 30s. Attractive but single, most definitely living alone. That’s his selling point. That’s how he’s managed to lure all these women into his vehicle.”

Nothing stuck out to you about him. There was nothing you could think to do to help in this situation besides hide behind the wall. You were waiting for a signal from Luke or the sound of backup approaching. 

Luke cleared his throat and you could picture him shaking his head. “It doesn’t have to be like this, man. Let her go and I can help you.”

The unsub laughed again and you cringed. There was something so unsettling about his voice and his laughter. 

The unsub started to speak, but his voice was cut off by the sound of sirens wailing in the distance. This was your moment. 

You whirled around the corner, gun drawn. “FBI, don’t move,” you warned. The unsub turned to look at you. His cold blue eyes bore a hole in your head. A shiver ran through your spine. “Drop the knife.” 

He appeared irritated, rolling his neck as if trying to work out a kink. He glanced down at his victim. Her eyes were wide and frantic, tears streaming down her face. She was bound and a piece of cloth was tied around her face as a makeshift gag. He pulled her up to his height by her hair, eliciting more cries.

 “Well sweetheart, this isn’t how I pictured this ending for us. I hope you’ll forgive me,” he said as he raised the knife to her throat. 

“Wait!” Luke shouted. 

It was too late. What followed next was nothing short of chaos. 

Luke let off two shots, both of which connected with the unsub. His body cascaded to the floor. You lunged forward at the poor victim. Her throat, now cut, was bleeding at an alarming rate. However, her eyes remained open and the gasps coming from her mouth told you she was still breathing. 

You threw yourself on the floor next to her, removing the gag from her mouth and placing it over her neck as a makeshift tourniquet. 

“Do you hear that?” you asked, the sirens were right outside the house. “Help is almost here, okay? You have to keep your eyes on me.” Her glassy eyes were locked on yours, but the panic was fading from them with the little life she had left. The cloth in your hands was soaked with blood and your hands were turning a deep shade of crimson. 

You shook your head. “No, no. Come on. Look at me,” you tried to encourage her to hold on just for another moment. 

In the midst of your mumbling, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around to see Luke crouched behind you. 

“She’s gone, Y/N,” he said gently. His eyes were locked on her lifeless body. You furrowed your brow, denial coursing through your veins. 

Just as you were about to protest, the EMTs burst through the door with Emily and Dr. Reid in tow. Luke pulled you out of the way as they tended to both the victim and the unsub. 

The four of you watched helplessly from the corner of the room. You felt your body shake gently, adrenaline getting the best of you. You could feel Reid’s eyes on you. His judgement making you more anxious. 

You watched as one of the EMTs working on the victim turned to look at you. He shook his head gently, a sign that she really was gone. 

You'd never forget her face.

A sigh of defeat left your lips and tears welled up in your eyes. In a moment driven by pure emotion, you shot out of the house and back towards the SUV.

Luke sprinted out the front door after you. “Where are you going?” he shouted, clearly confused by your sudden burst of determination. 

“Back to the hotel,” you said matter-of-factly, sliding into the driver’s seat of the car. He rushed over to the driver’s door, holding it open so you couldn’t slam it shut. 

He looked incredulous. “And who am I supposed to ride with?”

You rolled your eyes. “Luke, two people just died and you’re worried about who your chauffeur is going to be.” 

Luke seemed to get the message he pulled back from the door, allowing you to shut it. You started the SUV, cracking the window just enough to shout, “Catch a ride with Reid and Emily.”

You pulled out onto the highway, foot heavy on the pedal as adrenaline still run through you. 

Nearly half an hour later and still covered in blood, you stumbled into the hotel lobby. The desk lady, panicked, quickly rushed in front of you. The lady, presumably Linda based on her nametag, asked you if she needed to call the police. You’d shown her your badge with a bitter laugh, explaining that you were the police. The smell of her floral perfume was making your head spin more than it already was. Thankfully, with a sympathetic smile, she’d moved out of your way and allowed you to proceed to your room. 

Which was how you ended up here, trying to scrub blood off of your still-shaky hands. You weren’t sure how long you’d been at this, but you couldn’t quit now. The dark evidence was still embedded deep beneath your fingernails. 

-SPENCER’S POV-

Walking into the house behind Emily, I could already see the mess that had unraveled. There was blood on the wall, where the unsub lay propped up but clearly dead as if he’d landed sitting up. There was blood on the floor, covering the lifeless body of the last victim. 

And there was blood all over her, the new girl, who was standing in the corner. Her eyes stared off into the distance, and she looked like she could faint at any moment. 

She was nice. Too innocent for the job, clearly. If I hadn’t been sure about that from the other case we worked together, it was evident now. 

Emily and I walked over to the corner, standing beside Y/N and Luke as the EMTs worked on both the unsub and the victim on the other side of the room. Despite the gory scene before us, I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off Y/N yet. Thoughts laced with sympathy crept into my mind and I resisted the urge to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. 

Just as I was about to do just that, the closest EMT turned to her and shook his head. The victim, as the unsub, was dead. She let out a sound that I could only describe as a shudder before she raced out the front door. 

“What the hell?” Luke asked, following her out. 

Emily sighed, staring at the two bodies before us as the EMTs packed up their things. “Kind of a harsh second case for the kid, huh?” she asked. 

I thought for a moment and shrugged, pushing sympathy away. “It’s not like it gets any easier from here on out, she might as well get used to it now.” I turned and started to walk out of the house, just in time to watch the new girl whip the SUV out of the driveway and hightail it back towards town. Though I wasn’t looking at her, I felt Emily shoot me a look. 

“You’d have never said a thing like that before you went away, Spencer,” she scolded. 

I took a deep breath. She was probably right. “No, I wouldn’t have, but things are different now,” I said plainly. 

I walked down the front porch steps and out on to the lawn where Luke was waiting for us, impatiently resting a hand on the handle of the SUV’s door. 

“Where’s your ride?” I quipped sarcastically. 

He shook his head. “Don’t start. It’s been a long day for all of us.” 

Emily caught up to me, pulling the SUV keys out of her pocket and unlocking the door so Luke could climb inside. As he did, she turned to me. 

“When we get back to the hotel, I want you to go check on Y/N.”

I felt my face contort in a scoff. “Why would I be the one to do that?” 

“Because,” Emily said, staring at the SUV before us, “someone needs to.” 

“So why don’t you?” I challenged, growing more exasperated by the second. 

Emily snapped her head to the side, her eyes shooting daggers at me. “Spencer,” she said sharply. I looked at her, trying to read her microexpressions. “I worry about you. Do you get that?” 

That wasn’t the reply I was expecting. 

I averted my eyes to the ground, somewhat ashamed of my previous attitude. “Yeah, I know.” 

“I want you to check on her because she needs someone who has seen bad things to explain to her that those bad things are survivable,” she started, eyes still locked on my face. I glanced up at her as she continued. 

“And, I want you to check on her because I think it would be good for you,” she finished. 

“Good for me?” I asked, with less attitude and more curiosity this time. 

Emily sensed the shift in my demeanor and I could see her shoulders relax. “Yes, good for you. Ever since you came back, you never stay out after cases anymore. Remember how we all used to go out together? Have a couple drinks? Relax?” 

I nodded because I did remember.  Those were some of the best memories of my life. 

“All you do anymore is go home or back to the hotels and hide in your room until the next morning, reading Vigotsky or Tarkovsky or whatever you do.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was reading the works of Dostoyevsky, so I let her continue uninterrupted. 

“It’s time for you to do some socializing. I think talking about yourself might do you some good for once. Besides, Y/N really is a ray of sunshine once you get to know her. I think her company will be good for you.” 

I thought about what she said for a moment. She wasn’t entirely wrong. “Alright,” I said, “I’ll stop by her room before I go to bed for the night.”

Satisfied with my answer, Emily proceeded to the SUV. 

Soon enough, we were back at the hotel. I thought about how to proceed. Should I go to her room immediately? Should I wait and change out of my work clothes first? 

Absolutely not. Talking is one thing. Wearing my pajamas in front of her? That’s too personal. 

I decided to head straight to her room. Ripping the bandaid off seemed like the best option. 

I strolled down the hall and stopped in front of her door. I placed three quick knocks on the door and waited. And waited. I knocked again. Nothing. 

Maybe she’d gone out for the evening, I reasoned. Or, maybe she was asleep. Regardless, I was ready to turn and go back to my room when I heard the faintest sound of running water coming from inside. 

My mind raced. She was surely just in the shower, right? Or maybe running a bath? The FBI agent in me freaked out. What if she’d went off the deep end and was trying to drown herself? Or what if-

I tried to run through my options, the first obvious one being to try the door handle, which was miraculously unlocked. Who the hell leaves their door unlocked in a cheap hotel like this?

“Y/N?” I called out as I stepped into the room. The bathroom door was wide open to the left of the main door I just entered, and I peered around the corner. 

She stood before the sink, eyes locked on her hands which appeared to be scrubbed nearly raw. I walked inside, concern building by the moment. “What are you doing?” I asked. 

She didn’t hear me - or she ignored me if she did. She continued scrubbing her hands diligently. I leaned forward to get a better look. A few red streaks ran off her hand and down the sink, but I wasn’t so sure what she was washing off was the victim’s blood anymore. 

“Y/N, stop. You’re hurting yourself,” I scolded. Her motions continued. She seemed dazed and unaware of my presence. She was surely in some kind of shock. 

As I stood behind her, I felt as though the scrubbing intensified. I made a snap decision. Stepping forward, I placed my arms on either side of her body, caging her in around the sink as I firmly grabbed her forearms and separated her hands. 

She jumped violently, enough for me to release her arms from my grip and back away quickly. 

“My god, Dr. Reid. How long have you been here?” she asked as her voice shook. She looked exhausted and her hands were bright red. Red lines where she’d repeatedly used her nails to scrape at the skin caught my eye. I pulled my gaze away from her hands, making eye contact with her for the first time. “I came to check on you, after everything. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

She looked down at her hands, the realization of what she had done became apparent as she flexed her fingers and winced. 

“Looks like I came at the right time,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her. 

She shook her head incredulously before she began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Reid. I have no idea why I was doing that. You shouldn’t have had to-” 

I shrugged. “It happens.”

Silence filled the room as I noticed she was still in her blood-soaked clothes. Thoughts whirled through my mind, but I couldn’t form a coherent thought. Words were pouring out of my mouth without my approval. 

 “Here’s what I purpose,” I said before I could stop myself. “Take a shower, get changed, and meet me in my room for a few minutes. I just want to talk to you about a some things.”

 She stared at the floor. I almost thought she was going to say no. 

“Okay,” she whispered. 

I nodded, heading for the bathroom door. “Room 91A. And please, call me Spencer,” I stated. Not waiting for her response, I shut the bathroom door behind me and locked her hotel door on my way out.

-READER POV-

You felt like you were in trouble. 

You know when you’re merely a child and you get in trouble in the middle of class? You know the feeling of your stomach sinking as you walk to the principal’s office?

That was the only way you could describe walking to Dr. Reid’s - Spencer’s - room. 

After a shower that stung your hands and brought tears to your eyes, you slipped into some comfy clothes and wrapped gauze around the rawest parts of your palms, before heading to his room. 

Room 91A. You tapped your knuckles on the door twice. You heard shuffling from inside the room. Spencer stood before you, also showered, also in his pajamas. 

This caught you by surprise. He could tell by the way your eyebrows shot up at his appearance. “I figured we might as well be comfortable with one another,” he said before stepping out of the way. “Come in.”

You brushed past him as you walked inside. Though it was just a hotel room, something about the stack of books on the side table and paperwork scattered on the desk brought a small smile to your face. 

One book in particular laid face up on the edge of the bed. “Dostoyevsky?” you asked. 

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your question. “Yes. Have you read his work?” 

You nodded, glancing up at him as you ran your hand over the cover of the book, tracing the engraving on the cover of the antique copy. “Everybody knows Crime and Punishment, but I prefer White Nights.” 

You’d caught him off guard. “I didn’t know you were interested in Russian literature,” he said, walking to the other side of the room and taking a seat in one of the two armchairs positioned in the corner, “or any literature, for that matter.” 

You shrugged. “We’ve only known each other for two weeks. I’m not sure why you’d have any idea.” 

His stare faltered, and you caught him averting his eyes to the floor as he leaned back in the chair. “I should have asked. I haven’t been very kind to you. I haven’t done a very good job of making you feel welcome here,” he started cautiously. 

That caught your attention. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but your first response was to reassure him. “It’s no problem, Spencer. It’s been so busy that I haven’t had time to get to know anyone very well.” You perched yourself on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully. 

“That isn’t true,” he said matter of factly. 

“Excuse me?” you asked, genuinely confused as to if you heard him right. 

Spencer cleared his throat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the tops of his thighs. His hands folded and he used them as a rest for his chin. You could see the gears turning in his head. 

“I said that it isn’t true. You have gotten to know everyone quite well, from what I gather,” Spencer said. 

Before you could respond, he started in again. “I’ve seen pictures of you with Luke and Penelope at the club after the last case. I know you went to lunch with Will and JJ. She says you’re fantastic with Henry and Michael. Tara told me you helped Rossi finish the thousand piece puzzle he’s had splayed out on his office table for two months. All this while Emily claims you’re a ray of sunshine.” 

Your mouth had fallen open a bit in the midst of his confession. You tried to think of an appropriate response. “Well, yes. That’s all true. But I don’t expect you to go out of your way to get to know me. I’m a people person.” You pointed to the books on his side table. “You, on the other hand, seem to prefer quiet time alone. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

The room was silent for a moment. The sound of Spencer’s foot tapping quietly against the floor kept the time. One, two, three… 

“I didn’t used to be this way,” he said frankly. 

You glanced at him, trying to read his expression. His face was stoic. He didn’t look particularly upset, though he surely wasn’t happy either. He ran a lone hand through his hair and brushed a few solitary curls from his eyes. 

“I know,” you responded. 

He furrowed his brow at you, confusion written all over his face. You rose from the bed and approached him before plopping down in the armchair next to his. 

“You know how, for us normal people, we spend a few years in training before we actually get a real assignment?” you asked. 

He nodded. 

“I’ve been with the Bureau in that capacity going on four years,” you started, eyes locked on the wall across from you. “My third year, there were rumors about an FBI agent spending time in prison for some high-level crime. People theorized it was connected to drug running, treason, even murder.”

Spencer cringed. 

“For the longest time, I thought it was a rumor. I forgot about it and I got an internship in Internal Affairs,” you continued. “One day, my boss handed me this huge file, full of reports going back over a decade.”

He was curious now, staring at you intensely as you did your best not to melt under his gaze. 

“If you haven’t figured it out yet, that was your file. One section was full of every report you’d ever written. The other section was what the Department of Justice had collected in an attempt to convict you in the fall.” 

This was new information to Spencer, who felt himself let out a bitter laugh. You paused to look at him. 

“I’m not sure why I’m surprised by that,” he said sourly. “I knew then they would want to be as far away from the case as possible. No wonder it was easier for them to try to keep me in there.” 

You shrugged, continuing. “I guess Emily had called in a favor with Internal Affairs. I was tasked with finding proof of innocence.” 

“And?” Spencer asked. 

“I couldn’t find any,” you stated simply. He nodded. “But I never forgot the file, especially the pictures inside. I never forget a face. Reading through your life with the Bureau, seeing the sequence of ID images each year as you got older, maybe even colder. That stuck with me for some reason.”

He appeared intrigued and was clearly doing his best not to interrupt. 

“When I woke up one morning and saw this huge CBS headline about the DOJ dropping the charges against a wrongly accused agent, I felt a strange kind of vindication,” you admitted. “Nine months later I got a call from Emily, asking me to come in for an interview. Two months later, now we’re here.”  

“Now we’re here,” he repeated. 

You cleared your throat. “What I didn’t bank on when I joined the BAU, was the same face from that file would be across from me at the table every day.”

You turned to him to find he was already looking at you, and you offered him a small smile. “All this to say,” you whispered, “I think you have every reason not to be friendly with the new hire.” 

The room was silent once more, the two of you sneaking glances at each other. Spencer was the first to break the silence. 

“Emily sent me to check on you because she thought it would be good for both of us,” he confessed. “She said you should see me as an example that people can get through bad things, and that I needed to get out of my head and into the real world.” 

You were quiet for a moment before shifting in the chair. You thought of everything you’d seen over the last twelve hours.

“I never forget a face,” you whispered again, thinking back to the victim on the floor. Her glassy eyes staring up at your own. 

Spencer nodded. “Me either.” 

“So how do you do it?” you asked him. 

He turned to you. You swore you could see tears forming in his eyes. 

“I find that there's always that little moment right when you wake up in the morning, when everything's good, because your mind has temporarily forgotten the bad stuff.”

You smiled as he continued. “At night, when I can’t sleep, I make a list in my head of all the good things I've seen someone do. Every little thing I can remember. It's like a game.”

You tried to think about every good thing you’d ever seen someone do and tears welled in your eyes. “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” you said. 

“It works sometimes,” Spencer smiled. He moved forward, placing a hand on your knee. You looked up at him. The two of you stared at each other. 

“You have to know that you’ll never fully forget these things, but we get through it as a team,” he finished. 

The tears welled up in your eyes spilled over, and you noticed that a few of his own had to. The hand on your knee moved up, wiping the fallen tears from your cheeks.

After a moment of letting the tears dry, you rose from the chair. “I really appreciate this, Spencer. I’m sorry that you had to go out of your way to help me, but I am very grateful.” 

He stood, towering over you. “It’s not a problem. I enjoyed talking to you.” 

“I enjoyed talking to you too,” you said with a smile. You stood next to him for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his close proximity before you snapped out of it. “Well, I should probably go back to my room and let you get back to your work.”

You turned from him and walked towards the door, pausing only when you heard his voice call after you. 

“Y/N,” he said, taking a few steps in your direction to where you’d crossed the room. 

“Yeah, Spencer?” you said, turning to face him. 

He faltered, his eyes finding the floor again. “I just,” Spencer stuttered for a moment, trying to regain his cool. “I was wondering if you wanted to stay. Stay and talk, of course. I-” he paused a moment more. Spencer took a deep breath. “I think Emily was right. I do enjoy your company and I’d like you to stay for a while,” he said firmly. 

You couldn’t hide the surprise on your face. Spencer saw it, too, quickly rushing to give you an out. 

“You don’t have to, of course,” he rushed. His cheeks burned red. 

“No, I don’t have to,” you said. “But I’d like to.” 

You saw his shoulders relax as the tension left his body. 

“Great,” Spencer nodded. He sounded relieved. 

You walked over to the armchair, plopping back down next to him. “Right, so,” you started, “What’s your topic of choice, Spence?” 

The use of his nickname brought the blush back to his cheeks as he scurried back into the chair next to you. 

He glanced at the books on the side table, the topic of conversation coming to him quickly. “Tell me,” Spencer started, “What resonates with you about the White Lady?”

You smiled before diving into a summary that not only analyzed the text but connected it to your own life. You thought your heart skipped a beat when you caught a glimpse of Spencer smiling warmly at you as you rambled. 

It was a long, interesting, conversation-filled night. 

[anakinstwinklebunny]

NERD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: thinking about some nerd!anakin fic where he had heard the reader talk with her friends that she's not passing physics and since he has the biggest crush on her since second grade he later suggest to help her..if she'll help him with something else ;)

Nerd!Anakin who inside was a little dirty minded boy that wished nothing more to have a loving girlfriend to do with her all the cool, nice things he always wanted to do (and he meant more joyful activities than sex)

Nerd!Anakin who has a collection of technical manuals and scientific holobooks that he reads in his spare time. His nightstand is filled with them, and he gets excited when a new one comes out. He’ll stay up late, curled up on the couch, devouring a manual on hyperdrive mechanics or some obscure sci-fi novel, eyes glued to the hologram.

He also loves telling you all about the technical details of what he's learning. You may not always understand everything he’s talking about, but his excitement is so adorable that you just let him ramble on.

Nerd!Anakin who has a soft spot for droids, and he might even give them 'upgrades' just because he thinks they deserve a treat. “You’ve been working hard, buddy. How about a new power cell?”. He’ll talk to them while he works, explaining what he’s doing like they’re his assistants (his fav is R2D2 obviously)

Nerd!Anakin who gets ridiculously excited about the latest gadgets or tech upgrades. When something new comes out, he’s like a kid in a candy store. Whether it's a new holo-terminal, a high-speed pod engine - he’s always the first in line to get it. He’ll show it off to you, explaining every little detail with enthusiasm. “Look at this! It has a new feature that triples efficiency!” He gets that adorable spark in his eye, completely geeking out over the smallest improvements.

Nerd!Anakin who would love when you'd do your nails; he'd ask soon later (when you two are alone) if you could play with his hair to only feel you scratch very gently against his scalp

Nerd!Anakin who was a great whimpering mess whenever you touched him (poor guy had never felt woman's touch before);

a sharp gasp left his mouth as you touched the mushroomy tip of his member, his hips jerking towards you without thought. he was already embarrassingly close, and now your teasing was only driving him closer to the edge “please-“ he let out a pleading moan, the words barely leaving his dry mouth

"please what ani? Use your words like good boys do"

He tried to focus enough to form a coherent sentence but it was getting so hard when all his mind could focus on, was the way you made him feel “I’m close-“ he gasped out, his hips rocking frantically against your tightening fist “I’m so close baby, i need it” he let out a sobbing whimper

"can you hold it in a little?" you asked gently

he groaned at the question before nodding almost desperately “for you, anything” his glasses sliding down his nose

You only hummed, all proud of your actions. How easily you could tear him apart by your single touch. Using her free hand to move his glasses so they were a bit more comfortable on him. You increased your movements, making sure to

he could feel the heat in his abdomen tighten as your hand moved faster. he was struggling to keep himself together, not much to your surprise "oh-oh god-“ he let out a loud gasp and a groan as your thumb moved over his tip again, that little touch sending electricity up his spine “oh-fuck…” one hand digging into the couch for some kind of grip “I can’t hold it—please please please” tears of desperation and overwhelming began to prick at the corner of his eyes

Nerd!Anakin who when was nervous, draw circles and designs on the back of your hand to relax himself

Nerd!Anakin who did your own minifigure from Legos

Nerd!Anakin who always had perfectly ironed shirts

Nerd!Anakin who in general was perfectionist in everything he'd do. If he had a mess in his room, he couldn't focus normally. If just one thing was moved inches apart, it drove him wild

Nerd!Anakin who made cupcakes with his mother for you

Nerd!Anakin who's a true mommy's boy

Nerd!Anakin who teared up after you gave him his first blowjob. He felt so overstimulated when his thick member was hugged around your warm throat, your tongue working on his shaft..it was way too much for the first time, he'd gasp and ask you to slow down because if you wouldn't, you'd already have his cum dripping down your throat

Nerd!Anakin who gave you flowers - sometimes real one and sometimes he'd do them from origamy

Nerd!Anakin who has a little sketchbook where he draws schematics for future projects—droid designs, custom technology accessories, etc. He’s always thinking of new ways to improve things, and his sketches are filled with intricate details and notes.

Sometimes, he’ll show you a design he’s particularly proud of, grinning ear to ear as he explains how it works. “What do you think? Pretty sleek, huh?”

Nerd!Anakin who was a true worshipper of your body. Would press such gentle kisses all over your body as if you were a ceramic doll he was scared to break

Nerd!Anakin who's glasses got foggy everytime he made love to you, his curls sticking to his forehead and his pinky, swollen lips quivering to hold back his own orgasm

Nerd!Anakin who adored math and physics (but not as much as he adored you). And of course, he loved to help you with those subjects

Nerd!Anakin ho invited you to weekly movie marathon. With all the snacks ready and a fluffy blanket

Nerd!Anakin who adored to cuddle with you. It was something so precious for him, and whenever he had a chance, he'd just wrap his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzle to your soft neck

Nerd!Anakin who liked to play with your hair like brushing them out of your face, twirling the strand around his finger and watch intensively, as if it was the most important/gorgeous/captivating sight he had seen, how it hugged his finger so perfectly

Nerd!Anakin who had his 'sexual education' with you;

Anakin hesitantly reached out, his hand trembling as he lifted it towards your chest. He hesitates for a moment once more, not sure if he's ready to do that. He just felt so sinful watching you naked..but oh so good.. so, before the thoughts would envelope his entire mind, he gently cupped one of your round, full breasts. He instantly marveled at, not only the softeneness but the weight, the way it filled his palm, how it was so beautiful, seeing your raspberry ripple hidden thanks to his large hand made him feel so fuzzy all inside

As he squeezed the soft globe tentatively, feeling its weight sprawl all over his senses, he couldn't help but let out a low moan, his body responding to the newfound pleasure. Guilty feelings fade away, leaving him all needy for more of you. His fingertips graze over your nipple to harden it, eliciting a soft gasp from both of you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with wonder. "I-how i-" he stuttered shyly "-what should I do now?"

"whatever you want..you can kiss it, play with it, anything you want Annie"

Anakin's eyes widen at your words. To have the whole access to your body felt more pleasurable than anything in his life. He leaned in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to the underside of your breast. You gazed down at how his glasses pressed against your skin, making your breath hitched. He then brought his hand up to gently squeeze and caress the soft mound at your left breast, almost nuzzling to the right one. He looked back up at you, seeking approval, as if not sure if he could go any further

"go on, they're all yours" you encouraged

Anakin smiles shyly at your encouragement, feeling emboldened. He starts to kiss and lick at your breasts, alternating between the two. He gently nibbles on your nipples, sucking on them and releasing them with soft popping sounds. "Ahh... they're so soft... and t-tasty..." he mumbled the last part more quietly, as if embarrassed that he actually thought about your breasts in that way

he accidentally uses a bit too much pressure with his teeth, causing you to hiss in pain. He immediately freezes, his eyes filled with worry. "I'm so sorry... did I hurt you?" His voice soft, laced with adorable concern.

"no--its okay..just try to use a little less teeth..and relax"

Anakin nods, his expression turning gentle again. He leans back in, this time more careful, his touch feather-light. He alternates between sucking and licking, paying close attention to the way you react to his touch. "Like this?" He asks softly, his voice muffled against your skin.

"just like that" you tugged on his curls

After the moaned sentence left your mouth, Anakin felt a surge of pride. He continues his gentle ministrations, his own body growing harder with each passing moment. He looks up at you,l with his eyes hooded. "Can I... can I kiss you lower now?"

Nerd!Anakin who was scared to eat you out at first, cause it'd be his very much first pussy. But when he did, he had no idea how to do it. He used his teeth a little too much, his tongue a bit too forceful but in time he got better

Nerd!Anakin who loves space documentaries. He'll make you sit with him on the couch to watch them, enthusiastically pointing out facts you didn’t even know he knew. He’s the type to lean over and say things like, “Did you know that this system’s star is actually binary? And it formed 4.6 billion years ago?”

Nerd!Anakin who uses cheesy, nerdy pick-up lines that leave you both laughing. He’s the kind of guy who would say, “Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te.” He says it with so much confidence that you can’t help but find it endearing.

When you tease him about it, he’ll get all flustered, scratching the back of his head with that sheepish grin. “I thought it was clever..and you'd like it, maybe give me a small kiss or something.."

Nerd!Anakin who is fiercely protective of his tech projects. If someone tries to mess with them or touch his tools without asking, he’ll get all defensive. “Hey, be careful with that! I’ve been working on this for weeks.”

But when it’s you? He lets you mess with his projects all you want, even if it makes him a bit nervous. He’ll give you a dorky smile and say, “Just don’t break it, okay?” But secretly, he loves sharing his passions with you.

Nerd!Anakin who, as smart as he is with machines, is absolutely terrible in the kitchen. He’ll try to make you dinner as a sweet surprise, but something always goes wrong—he burns the food, the recipe doesn’t turn out, or the kitchen ends up looking like a disaster zone.

He’ll stand there, looking embarrassed but hopeful, holding a burnt dish with a lopsided grin. “Uh, it’s a little... crispy..”

Nerd!Anakin who leaves you small, nerdy notes;

On a sticky note on your fridge

"You’re the binary star to my existence. Without you, my orbit is off. Also, I reprogrammed the toaster. You're welcome.”

In your notebook or planner

“If I could rewrite the laws of physics, I'd bend space-time just to spend an extra 5 minutes with you.”

"The only code I can’t crack? How you make my heart race this fast.

Tucked inside your favorite book

“You're like the perfect algorithm: complex, beautiful, and always leaving me wanting to solve the equation that is you.”

On your desk after a long day

“You must have a gravity field around you, because I can't seem to stay away. P.S. Check under the desk, I might've added a small modification.”

Next to your coffee in the morning

"You must be a supernova, because you light up my entire galaxy."

Left on the keyboard of your laptop

“I may be fluent in over 6 million forms of communication, but none can express how much you mean to me. Except maybe binary: 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101.”

On a scrap of paper in your bag

“If life were an RPG, you’d be the rarest item—a perfect balance of stats, charisma, and intelligence. Also, +100 beauty.”

Tucked in between your sketchpad pages (if you're into art)

“You’re the canvas, I’m the artist... together, we create the perfect masterpiece. P.S. I’m still better at drawing starships though.”

Left in your lunchbox

“Did you know you increase productivity in starship repairs by 43% just by being near me? I’d call that a superpower.”

Taped to a little DIY gadget he made for you

“This little thing is just like you—ingenious and holds everything together. Also, try pressing the blue button for a surprise.”

Next to your favorite snack

“You’re like the perfect engineering schematic: flawless in design, and I can’t stop marveling at the details.”

In your locker

"I’d cross the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs just to see your smile."

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet (I have not forgot about you now ;) )

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[little-diable]

Crimson River - Tyler Owens (smut)

This came to me while overthinking a situation I'm currently stuck in lol. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tyler have been chatting online for months, and now it's time for them to finally meet in real life. Porn with some plot

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, some spitting, full on fluff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.5k words)

“So, when will I get to share these songs with you face to face?” Her thumbs were hovering over her keyboard, eyes flickering from his text to her calendar. (Y/n)’s heart was pounding, beating in her chest while her teeth tugged on her lower lip.

It could be easy, too easy almost. 

“How’s the weekend looking for you, you busy tornado wrangler?” Heat shot to her cheeks, leaving her to burn up while putting down her phone. This was crazy, and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to back down, not when she could finally meet him.

Him, the guy she had been texting for months now.

Him, the guy she had first bonded over music with, sharing a similar taste. 

Him, the guy whose every storm chasing stream she had watched ever since he had shared more about himself with her. 

“If it means I get to see you, I’ll hold it free, sweetheart.” A chuckle broke out of her. (Y/n) deeply exhaled before shaking her head at her screen. This was crazy, but the best kind of crazy, something she desperately needed to rip herself out of her daily routine. 

“Count me in, I’ll book my flights now.”

……

Her thoughts were racing, just like her heart. (Y/n) moved with the big crowd, knowing that she was about to step out into the arrivals hall, where he was already waiting for her. She was unable to shake the heat sticking to her, still not fully realising that she was about to cross paths with the man she had been in touch with for months without ever meeting him. 

And then she instantly saw him, eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a gravitational field that left her buzzing in excitement. His strong arms found their way around her, pressing (y/n) against him while she sank into the hug. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” With a kiss pressed to her temple, Tyler let go of her to reach for her bag. She could only smile up at him, taking in the handsome face she had seen on her screen too many times to count.

“Thank you for picking me up.” (Y/n) tried to rip her gaze from him, eyes set on the crowd he directed her through with one hand placed on her lower back. Her mind picked apart every little detail, their height difference, the scent of his cologne she’d probably never forget again, the way his warm hand felt pressed against her back. All of it left her buzzing, tingling in excitement. 

Only as she found herself sitting in his truck did she allow herself to relax and breathe. Tyler had instantly managed to lure her into a conversation, making her feel as if they had met up numerous times before today. And yet (y/n) still struggled to realise that this was really happening, that she was so close to the handsome man she had fostered a crush on for quite some time now. 

“I thought tonight we could go for something slow, maybe watch a movie? And tomorrow you’ll get to meet the crew.” He shot her one of his signature smiles, hand finding her thigh for a second. The touch felt intimate, shooting heat straight to the spot while her mind hyper fixated on the way electricity kept pushing through her as if lighting kept hitting her over and over again. 

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” She could already tell that a weekend was not nearly enough, parting again would hurt more than she could even imagine at that very moment. 

……

The screen of his TV kept flickering on, casting shadows in the spacey living room. It had been a while since they had arrived at his place. Both had opted for some downtime first before they’d get to cooking and sharing a meal. Even though she was slowly adjusting to being around Tyler, it still felt somewhat surreal, like a dream she’d be ripped from too soon.

“Hey, are you okay?” She had her feet pressed against his thigh, eyes flickering to them as Tyler softly squeezed her skin. The touch made her sink further into the couch, hoping that the way he made her feel wasn’t all that obvious to Tyler. But the smirk slowly tugging on his lips told her that he was all too aware of the way she struggled to hold it together, unable to speak much. 

Only a hum broke through (y/n), a sound that turned into a quiet gasp the second he tugged on her feet to place her legs over his thighs. One of his hands found space between her knees, grabbing her flesh while the other settled on top. 

How in God's name was she supposed to survive this? 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” Tyler stopped the movie without taking his eyes off her features. She couldn’t help but wonder how he was already able to read her that well, how he managed to pick up on micro expressions even her closest friends would most likely miss. 

“It’s just surreal, all of this, finally talking to you and being close to you. I knew we’d get along well, but,” the rest of her sentence was lost in the quietness of the room. Tyler’s thumb stroked along the fabric of her trousers, patiently watching her.

“But this is different.” He finally managed to finish her sentence, unable to bite down the smile both couldn’t shake now. “I know what you mean, I was hoping it’d work that well like it does when we text, but this is so much better.” 

Another hum left (y/n), she pulled her legs from his grasp to shift around, finding confidence in the way he had just expressed what she had also been feeling. Slowly, carefully almost, (y/n) placed her head against his chest, instantly pulled closer by the arm finding its way around her. Tyler pressed a kiss to her hairline before he started the movie again, unable to see the bright smile she now wore, perfectly matching his.

……

(Y/n)’s legs were dangling off the kitchen counter, eyes following Tyler around as he cooked for them. Music was filling the kitchen, playing a playlist both had crafted over the past months, their own personal blend. Ever since their moment on the couch, both had been unable to shake their smiles, hearts racing in sync. 

“Here, do you like that?” Tyler found himself settling between her thighs, looking at her while pushing the spoon past her parted lips. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, pushing heat through both of them. (Y/n) could only nod her head, not noticing how her legs had loosely found their way around his thighs, keeping him close.

Tyler’s thumb found her mouth, brushing away a bit of sauce clinging to her skin, a touch that made her breath hitch in her chest. She kept looking at him, getting lost in the piercing eyes that had seen more tragic glimpses of this life than (y/n) could ever imagine, and yet they were filled with a burning longing. 

For a few more seconds they kept holding eye contact, torn apart by his phone timer going off. Tyler had to clear his throat before he could focus on finishing dinner, trying not to pay her intense gaze any of his attention. He knew all too well that he was close to snapping, close to crossing the last line between them to press his lips against hers.

But as much as Tyler wanted to kiss her, to taste her like he had done numerous times in his dreams, he knew that he should take things slow. He didn’t want to push things too far on their first night together, all Tyler was focused on was seeing her comfortable and happy.

“We could eat outside if you want, stars should be out by now.” Her heart was close to jumping out of her chest, freed by the heat his words made her feel. Months ago he had shared a picture of the starry sky he was fortunate enough to look at whenever he was home, a sight that had left her to confess that she desperately wanted to see them too.  

“Thank you, Tyler.” (Y/n)’s words carried more meaning than he picked up on, not seeing through the adoration swimming in her pupils. 

……

“Tyler.” (Y/n) mumbled his name, eyes set on his features. They were still sitting on the bench outside his home, sharing a blanket to keep them shielded from the cold night. His eyes flickered down to meet hers, patiently waiting for her to keep on speaking. “Will you finally kiss me?”

Her words drew a loud laugh from him, he shook his head at (y/n) who could only grin up at him. Tyler’s hand found her cheek, wordlessly asking her to keep on looking at him while his eyes wandered over her features, “And here I was trying to be a gentleman.”

(Y/n)’s reply was lost on the tip of her tongue as he dipped his head down. Tyler’s lips ghosted over her’s, drawing a soft whine out of (y/n) as he kept a small distance between them. Only as her hand found his jacket, tugging on the fabric to pull him closer, did he properly kiss her. 

The kiss shot shudders down her spine, making hairs rise on her forearms while shuffling closer. Within moments she found herself straddling his lap, front pressed against his to cross any distance still lingering between them like two lonely ships crossing the sea to find back to one another, guided by nothing but their need to be close. 

Their lips moved perfectly together, the kiss wasn't rushed, but it was fuelled by their longing which had grown stronger over the past months. Tyler’s hands settled on her waist, fingers toying with the hemline of her sweater, set on feeling her warm skin pressed against his. For a moment they broke apart, grasping onto new air to fill their burning lungs. 

“Stop me anytime you want, sweetheart.” (Y/n) searched his lips again, not giving Tyler a chance to speak another word while his hands found her burning up skin. Her wandering fingers found his hairs, brushing through them to draw a moan from Tyler, a sound that vibrated on her lips and through her whole body. 

He didn’t speak a warning as he suddenly stood up, holding onto (y/n) to carry her back inside. With her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist, she let him carry her inside and towards his bedroom. Both were heavily breathing after pulling apart, chests rising and falling while chuckles broke out of them.

(Y/n) let him pull her sweater over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan rumbling through Tyler made her grin, letting her hands reach for his belt loops to pull him closer, expertedly undoing his belt, “I know we should take this slow, but I really need you to fuck me now after all these months.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart.” Their eyes held contact as she freed his hardening cock, letting his trousers drop to the ground. Tyler’s moans spurred her on, allowing her to marvel at the handsome man while pumping his length a few times. But Tyler didn’t have the patience to drag this out long enough, he gave her a push back, tugged her trousers and panties down her legs while (y/n) undid her bra. “You’re the prettiest sight, fuck, I’m the luckiest man.”

“Says you, I mean look at you.” She could only stare at him as the rest of his clothing was dropped, exposing his abs and his muscular chest – all while his fingers began to wander up her legs. He pressed kisses to her soft skin, sucking on her flesh as his fingertips ghosted over her warm folds, feeling her arousal already sticking to her skin. 

Tyler kept his gaze on her features as he spat down on her heat, spreading his saliva on her warm skin. He circled her pulsing bundle a few times to draw soft moans from (y/n), needing to hear them as if they were his favourite drug, high on her sounds. For a second, he parted from her to find a condom, to roll it down his cock, and to brush his tip through her folds. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) looked up at Tyler, feeling herself getting choked up from the way he looked at her. Something she’d only be able to describe as love swam in his pupils – a love so intense it only grew stronger as he pushed into her. Her eyes instantly fluttered shut at the sensation, fingernails scratching at his skin, walls fluttering around him. Tyler held still for a second, giving her time to adjust before he dipped his head down to kiss her.

Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing (y/n) to feel him deep inside of her, stretching her with every move. With every contact even more sinful sounds began to claw through them, reverberating through his bedroom like a song woven together from shared experiences and unspoken longings. 

“You feel so good, fuck, Tyler.” Her words left him chuckling, he kissed his way down her throat, finding the spots that made her arch her back while she tightened the grasp of her legs around his waist. Tyler was fully focused on making her cum first, needing to watch her fall over the edge while knowing that he was the reason for the sweet sensation she was about to get tangled up in. 

“Touch yourself, sweetheart, make yourself cum on my cock.” Tyler’s voice grew raspier and lower with every syllable he spoke. Both were staring at one another, wordlessly telling them that they were ready to let go any moment now. Her fingers moved fast, giving herself the needed push with his name bleeding from her lips.

Tyler found himself falling in love with (y/n) some more as she came, eyes taking in every inch of her pleasure drunken features. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, letting go with a groan while (y/n) kept clinging to him. 

“Christ, you’re perfect.” He pressed another kiss to her lips before pulling out. And at that moment, Tyler knew that he’d have to confess his feelings soon. Not tonight, perhaps not tomorrow morning, but the love bleeding from the tip of his tongue like a crimson river would pave the way for their following time together soon enough.