#it works out in the end only because i pressed the s support button and not anything he did

[sieglinde-freud]

playing fates again this is how its going

[sinofwriting]

Points Have Been Made - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen

Words: 3,363 Summary: Max and Charles find out something happened to their girlfriend. Note(s): Thank you Mak for commissioning this! Mentions of medical stuff, infertility (not reader). One German word, one Dutch word, some French words. Jenson Button appears in this fic, because uh, well, I love him and honestly, I’d like to think (write) him having a weird soft spot for Max (and Charles) after seeing him more recently around Logan.

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Max.” He lets out a hum, his focus on the car and racing line into turn nine. “Box box.” “What?” His eyes flick up to where a yellow or red flag would be waved but there isn’t anything. “I’ve only done three laps on these tires.” “Box box.” His brows furrow beneath his helmet and balaclava at the non-answer.

Pulling off the track and into the pit lane, his fingers tap against the wheel as they pull his car back into the garage. He sits there expecting the mechanics to make some sort of adjustments but instead they start doing what they do at the end of a session, cooling the car down, prepping it for its next use.

He feels a slight pressure to the top of his helmet and then GP is in his line of sight, leaning into his space and car, perfectly helping to cover him with the mechanics and engineers, so the camera can’t see inside. “Something happened, Max. Session is over for you.” His heart starts thudding in his chest, panic threatening to overtake him. “What happened?” His voice is muffled by the helmet but he knows that GP hears it from the way his frown deepens. “Out of the car, Max. We’re doing our best to not let cameras see in, but who knows how long that will last.” Max looks at the mechanics and engineers and only now takes note of how they’re standing. It’s a carefully constructed wall, not allowing the cameras to see him at all. “Alright.” He murmurs.

He focuses on his hands as he disconnects the steering wheel, resting it on top of the car before pulling his gloves off. He doesn’t know why but he expects them to be shaking, but they’re perfectly still, like always. Jaw clenched, he stands, bending at the waist to grab the steering wheel and put it back on before hopping out of the car.

It’s odd to take his helmet off, passing it gratefully to Annie who whisks it and his gloves away.

“What happened?” He asks GP again. A hand is pressed against his back, pushing him to walk and he does. Undoing the near too tight collar of the race suit as he walks. It’s only once they’ve nearly disappeared behind the wall, where outside cameras aren’t allowed that GP speaks. “It’s about Y/N.” And the rug disappears out from underneath his feet.

—

“I’m okay, mama. I promise.” She says, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she rubs at her head. “You're sick. And I know that neither Max or Charles is with you.” “I will be okay, I’m a big girl.” “Your my baby.”

Her heart clenches at her mom’s words. All of her friends growing up and even some now all thought of her mother as overbearing, with the weekly phone calls, daily check ins and texts, but she was her mother’s only child. She grew up knowing that she was supposed to have siblings, that she was never supposed to be an only child, but it hadn’t worked that way for her mother and it had made her protective of her only child.

“I know, mama. But I’m okay.” Her words nearly flatter as a wave of dizziness hits her, but she pushes it away, clutching at the counter with her left hand as her right rubs at her temple. “The weather just changed here in Monaco. Y’know how that goes.” Her mom makes a noise, not believing her. “Pascale will be coming over for dinner, to check on me. Charles' orders. Will you believe her?” “Oh, Kindchen.” Her voice is soft, so reminiscent of her childhood. “It is not that I don’t believe you. It is that you are always the last to notice when you are unwell.” “I will be okay and she will text you to update you. Now go to your book club. I know that it is today.” “It’s not a book club!” “It’s a book club, mama.” She laughs, wincing immediately at the way the movement makes her feel unsteady. “I’ll call you first thing tomorrow alright?” “Alright.” She agrees. “Love you.” “I love you too.”

As soon as her mom hangs up, she takes a deep ragged breath. Her hand on her forehead, that’s damp now with sweat which makes her nose wrinkles, grasps at her phone before setting it on the counter.

It’s only when it knocks into something she realizes she’s had her eyes closed and she doesn’t know for how long. Opening them, she blinks at how bright the kitchen is. Turning her head slowly, her nose wrinkles up again at how the sun is positioned in the sky. No wonder it was so bright.

Letting go of the counter and taking a step towards the living room, she swears when a wave of dizziness rushes over again and she’s clutching at the counter again. The edge of it digging into both of her palms.

“Fuck.” She breathes when it’s passed. She watches as a bead of sweat drips off of her onto arm. She needed a shower. She needed to shower before Pascale got here. With the reminder of Pascale coming in a few hours she takes a few more deep breaths before letting go of the counter and walking.

Only it isn’t just a wave of dizziness that hits her, but a tidal wave and before she can catch herself, she falls to the floor, head hitting the tile hard and knocking her out.

—

“What happened to her?” Max asks, feet seeming to be glued to the floor as GP tries to push him deeper. “GP, what happened?” GP looks around before leaning into his space, a hand on the back of his neck pressing, and Max lets him push his head down. “Pascale found her passed out, she hit her head on the way down. They’re still waiting for test results.” “But,” His mind is whirling, trying and failing to understand what is happening. “Where is Charles?” If GP is surprised by his next question he doesn’t show it. “He’s still out there. He just about told Xavi to fuck himself when Xavi told him to abort his lap.” Normally that would make Max smirk, chuckle but he can’t be bothered. “I need to tell him. He can’t hear it from Xavi or Fred.” “Andrea was going to tell him.” Max shakes his head. “She’s in Monaco. Charles can’t find out by himself.” He looks at GP pleadingly and the older man nods. “I know, go and get out of your race suit and you can go right on over. Fred is expecting you.” Max quickly claps GP on the shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you.” He rushes to say again as he moves quickly to his room.

—

Charles is grinning as his car is pulled into the garage. He doesn’t know what Xavi was thinking, telling him to abandon that lap. It was amazing. And yes he knew that his session was over, cut short due to a new setup that they wanted to try out, but it was fine. This track had always treated him nicely and with this car, it would hopefully even treat him to a win or he mused considering Max, second place.

Climbing out of the car and pulling his gloves and then helmet off, he doesn’t notice the way the engineers and mechanics are blocking the cameras from seeing anything, or the worried looks from Fred and Xavi. He just notices the worry on Andrea’s face when he catches sight of Max, standing just out of sight if you look into the garage, close to where the drivers rooms are. And he does notice the look on Max’s face, it makes his stomach drop and he rushes to him, not even murmuring a thank you to Jean who takes his helmet and gloves from him.

“Max,” he breathes, hands fluttering before they rest gently on his face. “What happened, Mon coeur?” “Charles,” his name is broken up by a stuttered breath. “Did something happen to Sophie? Vic? Luke? Leo? Jos?” Max shakes his head at every name. Dread fills him even more. “Y/N?” Max’s eyes close and he nods. “No.”

“Charles.” Andrea’s voice is in his ear, ushering him forward. “Let’s get you both somewhere private.” He nods, letting his hands fall away from Max’s face, though he can’t help but to grab Max’s hand, intertwining their fingers, needing the touch, and Max clearly does too with the way he squeezes his hand back.

As soon as his driver's room door shuts, Andrea speaks again before Charles can ask anything.

“Pascale called me maybe ten minutes ago. She went over to yours for dinner, to check on Y/N and found her passed out on the kitchen floor.” Charles makes a wounded noise and his already tight grip on Max’s hand grows worse and the barely older man doesn’t even wince or jump. Doesn’t seem to notice. “They’re at the hospital.” Andrea’s voice is somehow even gentler than before when he says it. “They are at?” “Yes.” “Oh, maman.” He murmurs, feeling tears prick his eyes and Max drops his hand, wrapping an arm around him, bringing him close. “They are waiting for test results.” Max says. “GP made me box. He told me and I rushed over here.” “I,” Charles shudders. “Is she okay? I mean she passed out on the floor. How?” “I don’t know. They only just got there or at least that’s what it sounded like.” Charles nodded. “Thank you, Andrea. For getting a hold of GP.” Andrea sends Max a look. “Of course, Max.”

Andrea leaves the room, leaving them alone and Max as soon as the door shuts, wraps Charles completely in a hug, holding him tight as he tries to comfort himself with at least having one of his partners healthy and safe in his arms.

“I,” Charles struggles again. “I should call someone to go be with maman. She shouldn’t be there alone. Not at least till I can get there.” “Charles,” Max starts to say and Charles shakes his head, pushing away. “No, Max. I know it is a race weekend. But it is just a two-hour flight away, I can be back before qualifying if it is not too bad.” “Charles,” he tries again. “I have to go. I can’t just be here while she is unwell.” “Charles,” and this time Max is holding his face, making him incapable of speaking. “I am going with you. Fuck the race. If it is bad, it is not like we will lose our spots in the championship. Everyone else is more than forty points behind, we will be fine. Let me call my pilot, the jet will be ready by the time we get to the airport.” “Merci, Max.” Charles breaths, pressing their lips together. “Merci.”

—

“Pascale?” She mumbles when she opens her eyes and sees the woman sitting beside her. “Did I fall asleep?” She tries to sit up but her head aches, making her groan, and Pascale is gently pushing her back down. “Lay down, sweetheart.” “What?” Her eyes wander around the room as she realizes this isn’t her, Max, and Charles shared place. It’s far too clean, sterile. She tries to lift her arm and winces when there’s a tugging sensation. Her eyes fall to her arm and more confusion builds as she sees an IV. “Pascale, what happened?” “I found you passed out on the kitchen floor.” “But,” she couldn’t have passed out. Right? Her mind struggled to remember it. She knew she had been feeling dizzy, but enough to pass out. “Are we at the hospital?” “We are.” Pascale’s hand pats hers. “I will be right back. I’m going to get the nurse, okay?” She nods and as Pascale darts out the room, her eyes land on someone sitting just outside her room. “Jenson?”

—

“Anything new?” Charles shakes his head, frowning at his phone. “Like before, they knew that she was dehydrated as soon as she came in but they are still waiting for everything else to come back.” “What is taking so long? Is it money?” Max runs his hand through his hair, before he looks at Charles. “Call them, the hospital. Throw your name around, prince of Monaco.” “Max.” Charles hisses. “I am not the prince of Monaco. And I can’t call them. Nothing will happen if I call.” He huffs, slumping back in his seat.

It's silent for a moment.

“Are you,” “Yes, I’m sure, Max.” He reaches over and squeezes Max’s hand before tangling their fingers together, lifting them to give him a kiss. “We will be there soon.”

—

She tries her best to focus on the doctor as they examine her but her eyes keep going to Jenson. Now inside of her room and standing in the corner, arms crossed over his chest as he watches intently.

“You have a mild concussion from the fall. The back of your head will be tender.” “But why did she faint?” The doctor frowns, “Normally I’d have the answer for you. But our lab is abnormally backed up and we are down to one lab technician. As soon as the results are in, I will be back to give them to you.” “Take your time.” She smiles.

Jenson shakes his head when the doctor leaves. “How does Monaco, of all places, have only one lab technician working?” “Jenson, what are you doing here?” He smiles at her, coming closer to her and bending quickly to press a kiss to her cheek. “Max texted me. Asked me to keep you and Pascale company. I was already here in Monaco.” She smiles at the older driver. He and Max’s friendship wasn’t too well known, but they talked often. Then she frowns, because Max had asked him. “Max asked you?” Her eyes then look over at Pascale. “I texted Andrea.” She nods. “Can you tell them I’m okay. There is no need to worry.” “Sweetheart.” “Pascale, I’m okay. I haven’t felt dizzy since I woke up, my head hurts a little from the concussion that’s all.”

Before Pascale can respond her attention is drawn away by the sound of the room door practically being thrown up and two voices on top of each other.

“Cheri!” “Schat!”

—

“We were so worried.” Charles murmurs, holding her face gently. “How is your head feeling?” Max asks, sitting beside her on the bed, arm wrapped around her. “I’m okay.” She smiles at both of them. “My head hurts a bit, but that will go away soon enough.” Charles frowns, fingers gently brushing over her cheekbones, before he drops his hands to hold both of hers. “Are you sure? I’m sure we could get you some meds.” “I’m sure, Prince Charles could get you some meds.” Max whispers in her ear making her laugh while Charles sends him a dirty look, though a smile is playing on his lips. “Don’t listen to him, Cherie.” She smiles at Charles, carefully leaning forward to press their lips together. Before being even more careful as she turns her head to kiss Max.

“Thank you both for coming.” “Of course.” “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Charles and her both look at Max, eyebrows raised. “Okay, I can think of places I’d rather we be.” He admits. Charles shakes his head, “so silly.” He murmurs, leaning across her to kiss Max. “Now, why don’t we have your test results back yet?”

“There’s a backlog.” Jenson says, grinning when Charles jumps at the sound of his voice. “Max sent me over to keep them company as soon as you guys figured out the game plan.” Charles' entire face softens and Max flushes at the look their boyfriend sends him. “And they only have one lab technician.” Max lets out a curse. “Did you try bribing them?” “I could go try if you’d like.” Max starts to nod, but a knock sounds on the door and it opens.

She watches as the doctor blinks at the two new people in her room but ignores them, focusing on her. “I’ve got your results right here. Hypoglycemia. Low blood sugar and I mean very low blood sugar. When’s the last time you ate?” Her brows furrow.

She remembered eating Tuesday night with Max and Charles before they left. A nice dinner that her and Max made, Charles pouring them more drinks or chopping and stirring things. But she had eaten something the next morning hadn’t she? Her head throbs as she thinks, but she ignores it, trying to remember and winces from both the pain and the realization that she hadn’t eaten anything since Tuesday night.

“Tuesday night. I was going to eat breakfast on Wednesday but we were out of my breakfast bars and then I got so busy and I just wasn’t hungry.” “Are you not hungry often?” “Sometimes. But even then I make sure to eat at least one meal a day, I snack throughout. I’ve never done this before.” They nod. “As long as this isn’t a normal occurrence, I don’t see an issue. But, you need to make sure you are eating often. You don’t want to be back in here because you forgot to eat and it made your blood sugar drop.” “Of course. Thank you so much.” They nod. “I’ll get your discharge paperwork done and as soon as you're finished with the bag, you’ll be free to go.”

—

“When are you guys flying back?” She asks, Max’s head in her lap, her fingers combing through his hair as she leans against Charles. Max makes a face. “We won’t be.”

Charles and him had both talked about it as they got Pascale home and she settled in. Their teams would be unhappy, but it wasn’t like they could be overtaken in the championship. They could live. And they had two weeks after this with no racing. Two weeks where they could make sure she was eating, taking care of herself. And she’d be going to the next race anyway. This had been a sort of one-off due to all the things that had piled up at home.

“What do you mean you won’t be?” “We can miss a race. Max is twenty points ahead of me, I am forty-seven points ahead of Oscar.” “I have so many questions about that.” She murmurs, because god what was this season. Checo barely hung onto fourth in the championship with George hunting him down, Lewis and Lando hunting down George. Barely fifteen points collectively separating third to seventh. Charles snorts. “Many people would like to know the same.” “You should go though. Put more of a lead in the points.” Max and Charles share a look, a bit hard with their positions but they manage. “No.” They both agree. “I can survive not even two days. I’ll go stay with Pascale. Have Arthur stay with me. Or Jenson since he’s here in Monaco.” “No.” They say again at the same time. “You are far more important than another twenty-five or eighteen points.” Max continues. She sighs, looking at them both. “Three stubborn people is way too many people in a relationship.” “I think it’s perfect.” “Suck up.” Max coughs and Charles flicks him on the forehead. “Says you.”

“Boys, settle down.” “Love you.” They chorus. She shakes her head, sighing. “If you will not go without me, I will just go with you.” “You have a concussion.” “A mild concussion. And we all know that you have flown before with a concussion, Charles.” He pouts, “it was just once.” “Twice.” Max coughs and Charles flicks him again.

“I will go with you tomorrow. Just please make the flight later than eight am.” “Done.” Max says, already texting his flight crew. “Thank you.” She starts to bend to kiss Max, when her face is redirected to look at Charles and he kisses her. She expects Max to whine but as soon as Charles is done, Max is turning her head the other way, no longer laying in her lap, to kiss her as well.

@fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @ironspdy @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @eutrizbea @namgification @eugene-emt-roe @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @stopeatread @hiireadstuff

[the-little-ewok]

Hard at work

Santiago Garcia X F!Reader

Rating : E/18+

Word count : 3800 (ish)

Warnings : SMUT, office setting (power play dynamics), PIV, unprotected sex, fingering, Dom!Santi (pretty soft), oral (f/receiving), lil bit dirty talk, reader wears a skirt, fluff, semi public sex (I guess. But not really?), Marking, *additional warnings under the fic at the end because spoilers ( nothing bad)

Prompts / summary : “I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional.”, "I think I've made my intentions clear", "Noone needs to know" / Santiago Garcia is your boss. And you should absolutely not be fucking your boss on his desk during the work day…

A/N : I've chosen to put some warnings at the end of the fic as I want to keep a couple of surprises. Nothing bad or super triggering I promise. But if you are worried please check before you read.

Thank you Vi for the hilarious tongue in cheek title 😂 and to the anon who requested!

Please if you read take time to reblog and maybe leave a comment or a couple of tags! The only way writers keep writing is if they hear from you.

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

Ping

S. Gacia: I need to talk to you in my office. Now.

You stare at the message on your computer screen, debating if you could think of a good enough excuse not to go, unsure if you could keep your composure when you were alone with your boss today.

It wasn't that you were avoiding him exactly. You liked your boss, you really did. He was hard working, fair, supportive, maybe a little demanding at times, well, actually demanding all the time, but he was hot, in a sort of 'your daughter calls me daddy too' kinda way. He had the eye of every girl in the office, yours included. Most people would be glad to have a boss like him.

The problem was he always seemed to find an excuse to be inappropriate with you — pressing up against you as he leans over you to get a coffee mug out of the cupboard in the break room, brushing his hand against your thigh during meetings, looking at you, and not just a normal look, a complete undressing eye fuck that made your face heat and your thighs press together. He made you want him all the damn time.

And while so far nothing has happened at work, everyone else in the office has noticed the growing situation between you. Disappearing away from your pc to meet with him would only add fuel to the fire.

Ping.

S. Garcia : When I say now, I mean now.

With no good excuses coming to mind you get up with a sigh, smoothing down your skirt and making your way over to his office.

The door is pushed open already, Santiago sitting at his desk, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, the top few buttons undone, giving an air of relaxedness, but you can tell he's anything but. Your heart gives a now all too familiar flutter in your chest.

"Mr Garcia?"

You tap the door lightly to get his attention. He gestures you in with a silent wave of his hand, barely looking away from the laptop as you step into the room.

"One moment, and shut the door" he instructs you, tapping away at the keys and muttering in Spanish to himself. You swallow hard as you close the door behind you.

Eventually, your boss sighs, rubbing his hands down his face and shutting his laptop.

"Is everything okay?" You venture inquisitively. Perhaps whatever has frustrated him is the reason he called you in here? Maybe he needs your help with work?

Santiago gets up from his desk, coming around to stand in front of you, just a few steps from where you awkwardly shuffle your feet, waiting for him to speak.

"We need to talk."

You can't help but go through a mental rolodex of things you might have done that you need to talk about with him, but nothing comes to mind.

"I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional," he continues, leaning back against the polished wood with a sigh, as though it's your fault, as though you've done something to encourage him. Perhaps you have. You did specifically pick this outfit today, hoping it would spark his attention, and as his eyes roam a slow trail from your toes to your face, licking his lips, you know it worked, but maybe a little too well.

You choose the innocence card, pretending there hasn't been an underlying tension since you started working together.

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

He doesn't even hesitate for a second before he answers, clearly expecting your response. His dark eyes bore into yours, blatant desire shining through.

"I think you are."

You swallow hard. Sure you might have hoped to get a reaction out of him, but you hadn't actually expected it to work. Especially not when there were specific rules in place about office relationships, especially during work hours.

"No one needs to know," he offers slickly, like putting a deal on the table, some form of forbidden contract. He steps towards you, then around you, coming to stand at your back, close enough that you can feel the warmth from his body.

He leans into you, gripping your upper arms and then slowly allowing his palms to slide down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers.

"It's just us in here. Nobodys going to know what happens here today." His hands ghost over the tips of your fingers, continuing down, stepping closer so his body is pressed up against yours.

"Mr Garcia, I don't think this is the time. We have…we have… work to do." You stutter out as his hands map the curve of your hips, pressing himself against your back. Even as you speak your body leans back against him, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, betraying your every thought about him. You can almost feel the smug smile he's probably wearing, knowing he was right in his assumption that this isn't one sided, and that you really aren't thinking about the work piled on your desk.

Your eyes flutter closed as he presses a trail of kisses down your neck, before his tongue licks its way back up to take your earlobe in his teeth, tugging gently.

"Work can wait. I think I've made my intentions clear," he breathes against your skin. He says it like you have a choice about what happens next. Like there's any possible world in which you would say no.

But you aren't going to let him have the upper hand entirely. You can't just collapse into his arms and beg him to fuck you. He might be your boss, but that doesn't mean you can't have your own fun too.

"I'm really not sure I understand what you mean? Perhaps you'll have to be a little more direct, sir."

There's a hitch in his breath that lets you know the sir hit exactly the way you expected it to.

What you aren't quite expecting is the way he nudges you forward before pressing a hand between your shoulders, forcing you down, bending over his desk. The touch isn't violent or forceful, he isn't the sort of man to do that, but it's commanding enough for you to willingly follow the direction.

Taking both your hands in his he presses them down onto the desk, leaning over you.

"I can make my intentions as clear as you need," he growls, standing back up. "Don't move, or you're fired."

You'd like to think you know him well enough that it's probably an empty threat, but damn does it make your pussy flutter anyway. You press your palms harder against the cool wood, resigned to let him do as he wills with you.

His hands slip across your hips and down over your ass, admiring your position, before he hooks his fingers under the edge of your skirt and raises it, just a little. He's testing you. It's a silent request about how far you want this to go.

You don't move to stop him, so he lifts your skirt the rest of the way, almost delicately slowly, hitching it up over your hips.

He gives a soft hum of appreciation at the pretty lace panties you're wearing, the ones already starting to soak through with your arousal at the fact your boss has you bent over his desk, admiring your ass.

"Pretty," he drawls, pulling back the elastic and letting it snap against your skin, giving a stinging bite and making you gasp. "Not very work appropriate though."

You open your mouth to offer a sarcastic response that people at work don't usually see your panties, but the words catch in your throat as he slides his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down quickly, letting them fall the rest of the way, fully exposing you.

Not satisfied with that, he uses his foot to tap your ankle, encouraging you to lift first one foot, then the other, stepping out of your panties before he kicks them to one side.

"Spread your legs."

If you weren't wet before the gush of arousal you have at his words certainly soaks you now. It isn't a question, it isn't a request, it's an instruction, a command. You spread your legs just a little.

Santiago nudges them further apart with his foot, spreading you for his benefit, before he grabs your ass, squeezing as he surveys you with a groan.

"You're practically dripping on my carpet," he comments, making your face heat.

You hear the whisper of fabric and glancing behind you you see him kneel on the floor, his hands dropping to your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh.

He meets your shocked gaze.

"Now let me be very, very clear in what I want."

The broken noise that leaves your throat as he licks a hot stripe through your folds isn't one you've ever made before, your body jolting forward on the desk.

Your rational brain tells you this is a bad idea. You should be working, not letting your boss eat you out on his desk of all places. But then he seals his lips over your clit, sucking hard, and you can't seem to care about work anymore.

You quickly realise he's too good at this, too good at making you tremble all too quickly, taking long slow laps at your clit, pressing his hot tongue deep inside you, growling and groaning as though you were the best thing he's tasted. He has you on the edge of a climax in no time.

Your fingers dig into the hardwood, curling around the edge of the desk, biting out a curse as his tongue completes another slow circle around your clit.

You wish you could see him, tangle your fingers in his short curls, direct him how to throw you over the edge, but you suspect he knows exactly how, and he's dragging this out for his own pleasure.

"Mr Garcia…Santiago…" you hiccup pleadingly, barely able to get enough air in your lungs.

You don't know if it's mercy or torture when his mouth leaves you, giving a playful bite to your ass before he gets to his feet, gently tugging you up, unpeeling you off the desk, his hands on your waist, steadying you on wobbling legs as he spins you to face him.

"Clear now?" He asks, almost impatiently. His eyes are dark, your slick still shining on his chin as he makes a show of licking his lips.

"That was…pretty clear," you breathe shakily.

He smirks as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding you still as he presses his lips to yours, allowing you to taste yourself as his tongue slips into your mouth.

It's not the type of kiss you're expecting from him. He kisses you sensually, tenderly, it's slow and decadent. He lets go of your chin in order to slide his hand around the back of your neck, holding you to him as his tongue slides against yours, drawing soft little moans from you.

When he pulls away your lips are kiss swollen and your fingers are tangled in his curls the way you wanted to do only moments ago.

"I want to fuck you here, on my desk," he whispers against your lips. "I want to stain the wood with your cum so there's always a part of you in here with me."

Oh fuck.

You don't answer initially, forcing down the moan of desire that tries to escape. Instead, you lift yourself up onto the desk, feeling the cool wood against your heated skin, before you curl your fingers around the white collar of his shirt, pulling him close to you. You're done waiting. You're done playing. You're done being professional.

"So fuck me already."

His mouth crashes into yours, kissing you hard as you both scramble to unbuckle his pants. He's barely shoved them down before his hands are gripping your thighs, tugging you roughly forward to the edge of the desk, lining himself up at your entrance, his actions messy and impatient.

Even so, he presses into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to the stretch that borders pleasure and pain, swallowing each of your moans with his kisses, letting out a low groan as he bottoms out, giving a soft nip of his teeth to your bottom lip.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Pussy is so wet for me," he slurs, taking your chin back in his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "How much have you thought about fucking your boss you filthy girl?"

Ring. Ring.

The sharp trill of the phone cuts in, making you both pause, turning to look at it mocking you from its space next to the laptop.

Shit. No. Not now. The timing could not be any worse. You need this. You've waited too long for this.

Santiago looks at you, his gaze questioning. You shake your head, silently pleading with him not to answer, not to put an end to this yet.

He lets out a soft curse, glancing over to the phone and reading the caller ID.

"Be quiet," he hisses, leaning over you and to your shock, clicking the answer button.

You don't quite know how to react as he grabs one of your thighs, hoisting it up over his hip, forcing his cock deeper as he starts to thrust into you. It steals the breath from your lungs and you let out a choked noise, throwing a hand over your mouth to smother it, still shocked he's actually taking this call.

Santiago lets out a quiet laugh at your reaction as he speaks on the phone, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Fish, what's up?"

"Just checking in on how things are going," the man on the phone answers easily, clearly unaware of the position your boss was in.

"Hard at work," Santiago answers, thrusting deeply into you with the last word, and you squeeze your eyes shut, desperately muffling your moans of pleasure.

You can't believe he's doing this, casually carrying on a conversation as he leisurely rocks into you. Your mind can't really keep up with the discussion— something about a BBQ on the weekend — too distracted in concentrating on keeping quiet, and hoping the wet squelch of your pussy isn't being picked up on the call.

You bury your face into his neck, trying not to allow the pleasure threading through you to give you both away. It's an uphill battle. Each steady thrust pushes you closer, your pussy already sensitive from his earlier ministrations.

You're not expecting it when he turns his head, his teeth biting down on your pulse point. It's just enough to send a shock through your system, making your eyes snap open, and your pussy clamp down on his cock.

Santiago's eyes go wide and it's him that lets out a choked moan, clearly far louder than he intended to. There's a beat of silence in the conversation as he scrambles for the phone receiver.

You have a moment of smug satisfaction at his panic, but the joy is fleeting, as when his eyes are back on you, smouldering and dark, phone in his hand, you realise you are in trouble. A lot of trouble.

"I'll call you back."

Click. With the press of a button the phone call ends, the receiver clattering noisily back onto the desk. Santiago's hands grip your hips, his fingers digging in hard enough there will be marks.

"You shouldn't have done that."

You have a moment of panic that he's going to end this, leave you on the edge, unsatisfied, and send you back to your desk desperate and needy. But instead, he pulls almost all the way out of you, before slamming his hips into yours.

You let out a strangled moan. Every time you think he can't possibly go deeper, he angles his hips and sinks in further. You want to scramble back on the desk, give yourself a moment to breathe, to think, to process the bliss, but Santiago's hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as you fall back on your elbows, splayed out across his desk, being used solely for his pleasure.

Santiago follows your movement, bending himself over you, causing the angle of his thrusts to change just slightly and hit something bright inside you. Pens and papers clatter noisily to the floor as the desk rocks with you. In a desperate attempt to stop yourself from suddenly being pushed over the other side, you grab onto his shoulders, holding yourself in place.

There's a growing blissful ache in your pussy and muscles that lets you know you'll still feel this tomorrow.

But you don't care, you can't care. All you care about is the knot in your stomach tightening, your muscles straining, your vision whiting out. All you care about is the pleasure careening through you.

Your pussy clamps down around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as your climax bursts through you. You give all pretence at being quiet, throwing your head back as you all but scream his name, uncaring who hears.

"Fuck, Santiago!"

The clench of your pussy drags him over the edge with you, and he muffles a growl into your neck, filling you with hot bursts of cum.

He pauses there, buried deep inside you, your pussy still pulsing as you come down. Lifting his head he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands tenderly massaging your thighs, slipping up your back to pull you to sit up, holding you against him.

When he eventually pulls away, his eyes roam your face, taking in your dishevelled appearance, pressing a final gentle kiss to your lips, before he slips out of you, pulls his pants back up and disappears around the other side of the desk.

You slide off shakily, your skirt still bunched up around your waist, turning to watch him throw himself down into the office chair, your panties dangling from his fingers like a hard won prize, back to his cocky, self assured, smug self. All traces of the softness he had only moments ago, wiped away.

"You won't be needing these back," he grins, opening his top drawer to drop your panties inside, before snapping it shut, his gaze daring you to protest as you stand open mouthed.

"Can I at least have something to clean-"

"No." He cuts you off, going back to clicking through his emails on his computer.

You have the realisation that he expects you to walk back to your desk with his cum still dripping down your thighs. You imagine the stain on your skirt, on your chair, one that probably won't ever fully come out, the stain like the one currently staring at you from the wood of his desk, a constant reminder of this day.

It shouldn't make your pussy clench the way it does.

You swallow, pulling down your skirt, ignoring the slick already coating your thighs, and give him a defiant stare.

"Very well. Will that be all Mr Garcia?" You mock sarcastically. If he was going to go back to professional, then so were you.

He doesn't even glance at you as he answers, dismissing you as though nothing has happened.

"For now. But don't go far. I don't think it will be long before I need to see you again."

You suppress a smile as you leave.

~

"Still working hard?"

Looking up from the document you've barely typed a word on all afternoon, you meet the gentle gaze of your boyfriend.

His eyes crinkle as he smiles warmly at you.

"Yeah, I haven't really managed to get much done," you sigh, glancing back to the half written document, knowing it's a lost cause for now.

"You look tired, baby. Your boss working you too hard?"

"He's pretty unforgiving," you hum, rubbing your eyes, your body aching with exhaustion. "Three times he had me in his office today."

Your boyfriend lets out a low impressed whistle.

"Harsh. Well, how about you leave whatever you're doing for now? I'm sure your boss will be okay with it being finished tomorrow. I'll run you a bath, make some dinner, then we can relax in front of the TV? Your choice of movie."

"That actually sounds perfect," you smile, logging out of the pc and getting to your feet, stretching your cramped muscles.

He holds his hand out to you as you come around the desk, pulling you into his arms and giving you a sweet kiss.

"I told you having two home offices would be fun," Santiago grins, his eyes bright.

Giggling, you shake your head.

"Yes, but I don't think we got any work done!"

Santiago shrugs nonchalantly.

"Guess that's the perks of being with the boss. I'll let you get away with it and make it up tomorrow." He winks and you laugh, knowing you both have a huge amount of work to catch up on now.

When he'd suggested you work with him you'd been hesitant for this exact reason. But he'd promised to keep quiet about your relationship initially, while you settled into the job, and for the most part, Santiago was professional in the office, although your colleagues had started to notice his almost blatant eye fucks. If you were honest, you didn't help the situation, sending him filthy chat messages, knowing he couldn't have you until you made it home. It turned out professionalism when you wanted to fuck your boss, was hard work.

You squeeze his hand as he leads you to the bathroom.

"Santi, can I have my panties back?"

"Nope," he grins positively merrily. "I'm going to frame them and put them next to the stain on my desk."

You roll your eyes, unsure if he's joking or not, but judging by the look on his face, you think not.

—----

Additional warnings (ending spoilers):

*illusions to infidelity/cheating (it's not I promise)/ role playing

-----

Thank you for reading! Please if you enjoyed take the time to comment and reblog! As writers we always want to hear your thoughts!

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Ideas for PPG episodes if my s/i was canon:

Introduction episode (of course) where Cherry Coading appears in the news as the sole programmer behind some new great innovation at Townsville Robotics (or something named similar idk), and Mojo Jojo decides to kidnap her and force her to use her programming skills to create some new evil device for him. As she's eventually reported missing and the police as well as the Powerpuff Girls slowly piece together where she's gone, Cherry ends up surviving just fine by playing her sweetness up to 11 with Mojo and feeding his ego just enough for him to lay off from being too cruel to her. At the end of the episode when the girls finally come to Cherry's rescue, they find that she's actually been doing just fine, but nevertheless she is saved and Mojo is taken to jail. As the episode ends, it's shown that Cherry's manipulative sweetness may have worked a bit too well as Mojo Jojo chisels a drawing of her face into the stone prison wall. Her tactics may not have been all show, either, as it fades to Cherry doodling Mojo in the corners of a blueprint, leaving the episode open to continue the romance at some point in the future 😉💖💖💖

Bear with me because this one I have extremely planned out but next episode Cherry appears in would be one where, during another battle in Mojo's lair, the Powerpuff Girls happen upon a journal of schemes on how to win over Cherry Coading, and the girls decide to help him with going on a date with Cherry (in reality it's more like they threaten him into it 😂). Blossom and Bubbles agree that the power of love may be just what Mojo needs to turn over a new leaf toward the side of good, whereas Buttercup is just waiting for him to slip so she can kick his butt and throw him in jail. Although Mojo Jojo doesn't take much of their advice to heart, one thing that resonates with him is the idea that he may have to give up evil for good if he truly wants to win Cherry's heart, and although it's a hard reality to face, he's willing to at least give it a try (at least for a little bit). The second half of the episode is the dinner date between Mojo and Cherry, while the girls not-so-subtly observe from various spots in the restaurant (in the coat rack, in a food cart, disguised as wait staff, etc) and continue to give Mojo advice that is either terrible or terribly interpreted by him, and as the night goes on things only grow more and more terribly awkward between the two. Eventually things reach a breaking point, and the one who ends up walking out is Mojo, exiting the restaurant and sitting on the curb sadly, thinking he blew it. However, Cherry follows and meets him there while the girls watch their conversation from the glass window of the establishment. Although they can't hear anything due to being on the other side of the glass, eventually Cherry ends up taking Mojo's hand in her own and giving him a kiss on the cheek! The girls dash outside excitedly and fly around the duo, celebrating their success and mentioning how Mojo is bound to give up evil now that the two are together, but suddenly Mojo breaks out into an evil laugh, starting quiet but gradually growing maniacal before saying that the girls are such fools and he never needed their help to begin with. He pulls out a remote similar to a car key and presses a button to summon a giant destructive mech, which he quickly dashes to to begin controlling and destroying the city gleefully. For a moment the bewildered girls question what they did wrong and how, if anything, he seems even more evil and destructive than ever before, before flying off to stop the villain. The episode comes to a close as Cherry watches the girls fly off toward Mojo's mech, sighing dreamily and saying "knock 'em dead, big guy", which reveals that she is definitely in full support of Mojo's nefarious deeds and that's most likely what she told him out on the curb when the girls were watching from the window. Also I think it's be cute if the episode was called "Simianfatuated". Say it out loud, it's more clever spoken than written

(The next few will not be as long I promise) Episode where Cherry wishes she could help Mojo with his schemes more, to which he invents a way to turn her pure evil. Things backfire when she ends up being far more evil than he is, dumping him and saying evil is her one true love. She uses his own technology to create a weapon that will destroy the entire Earth, and Mojo must team up with the Powerpuff Girls to stop Cherry and turn her back to normal.

While "monitoring" Cherry from his observatory as she goes about her day, Mojo notices her frequenting a specific video game store very often and becoming quite chummy with the store owner, Vince. Quickly becoming jealous, Mojo decides to keep spying behind her back, as well trying to relate to her video game interest when the two spend time together (which doesn't go very well, as ironically he is terrible at most games). Things come to a head when Mojo decides to accompany Cherry for a visit to the store; every little thing Vince says and does drives Mojo up the wall, only because Cherry seems clearly very encapsulated by Vince's gaming knowledge and sense of humor. The boiling point hits when, of all things, Cherry's hand accidentally slides over Vince's, sending Mojo into a rage as he begins to destroy the store and beat up Vince. Cherry yells for him to stop and asks what the heck his problem is, to which Mojo immediately plays the victim and whines that he was just worried that Cherry had feelings for someone else and was going to leave him all alone 🥺 To which Cherry immediately calls bullshit on and says that he's overreacting BIG-time and they're allowed to talk to OTHER PEOPLE, but she accidentally lets it slip that she was being overly sweet to Vince on purpose to get free stuff. The PPG show up from the commotion and after a quick fight, take Mojo off to jail, and Cherry is, obviously, banned from the store.

Alternate version of Criss Cross Crisis where Mojo swaps bodies with Cherry and uses the confusion as well as their sweet demeanor to rob various stores across Townsville, similar to the OG episode. After finding out the truth, Cherry (in Mojo's body) is understandably pissed to find out what Mojo's been up to, and they go with the girls to confront him. There's a brief comedic scene of the couple arguing before the girls begin their battle with Mojo; most of the episode proceeds as normally from here.

[hananoami]

[ Directional Orbit ] Fire - Stage 120 Clear VOD

On June 26th I finally cleared Rafayel's Directional Orbit: Fire - Stage 120! This is the last fight currently available for hunters to challenge in the Deepspace Trials. With this clear I can now say I have successfully completed all 120 stages of Open and Directional Orbits that are out. It's a feels good moment knowing that I was able to achieve this goal before the big update in July. Hopefully we'll see more stages soon.

Anyway, some important information pertaining to Stage 120. Like all red orbits, x0 stages it requires two different teams. Team 01's Protofield Stellactrum is 6-Pearl memories. Team 02's Protofield Stellactrum is 6-Violet memories.

By having a 'perfect match' with the Protofield Stellactrum you will receive additional attribute bonuses (for every color you match increase DMG boost 5.0% and DMG reduction 5.0% up to 30.0%), as well as the ability to shatter two protofield shields in a single strike. For this stage I opted to match the colors for each team. The bonuses of having a perfect match was more optimal instead of me trying to brute force it.

A disclaimer of sorts -- a lot of time, energy, and resources went into this stage. Everything here is based on my own experience with this particular fight. There is no right or wrong way to go about it. What worked for me may not work for you, but I hope some of the things I learned along the way could help you with your own trials.

What a long and precarious journey this has been, especially with Rafayel. From me begging the rng god(s) to bless me with his AB myth pair to struggling to obtain crit rate violet delta protocores... his team builds always made me work for it in every sense of the word. Which is why I am beyond ecstatic to finally be done with this, hahaha. I started this stage on 05/22 and finally cleared on 06/26 -- 5 weeks of progging this fight whenever his orbit was available... ngl it was pretty rough.

With Team 01, it wasn't so bad if you have a perfect match and group up the three wanderers. I've done countless runs of this stage and noticed that my build was strong enough to auto battle it -- though it sometimes cut really close to the timer ending. However, if you're doing it off color and trying to brute force it I would highly suggest that you stand close to / focus on Nauticverge (it's ranged with a staff). The other two wanderers will come to you to make it easier to group together.

With Team 02, the sheer amount of resources I invested into Rafayel's violet team is kinda wild. This was the first time I awakened a 4-star memory [Ivory Nightfall] but that was done only after I exhausted all of my other upgrades (ie. getting 5-star memories to level 80, maxing out +15 protocores). I don't regret that though. That memory is beautiful and well worth it since it's an ATK talent. I called it my make or break upgrade and thankfully that was the last bit of damage I needed to clear.

Originally, I was progging the second half of the stage using his Phantasma Sands guns... but finally gave up and swapped to Hunter Claymore to do even more damage. Truthfully, I'm not that great when it comes to melee weapons. Getting those stacks was a hit or miss because I anxiously dodge back too fast before seeing the red ring.

I know my game play was messy... but at least I made sure to press my buttons on cooldown, tried not to cap on my energy charges, and made sure to grab the fishtail beacon every time I used Rafayel's support skill. There's also the case with the last shield break of the fight. I made sure to hold my resonance skill until ~0:13 left on the timer to utilize the most damage out of my ardent oath during the wanderers weakened state. As seen in my video that was the final blow before I got my clear!

ADDITIONAL SCREENSHOTS

Companion: Rafayel's God of the Tides Weapon: Tidal Embrace Attribute Bonus For each matched stellactrum, increases DMG Boost 5.0% (currently increased: 30.0%) and DMG Reduction 5.0% (currently increased 30.0%). ♡ Affinity Bonus: 102 (Rafayel’s Protective Skill) When you take a fatal blow, Rafayel teleports to you, blocks a hit, and counter attacks. Enemies will be knocked back. [ HP 4000 || DEF 100 || ATK 200 ] Pair Bonus [TP] - Starting Effect: increases team DMG by 8%, reduces DMG taken by 8%, and increases Crit DMG by 10% when fighting alongside Sea Spirits. - Duo Rank 1: boosts Ardent Oath Charge by 20%. The starting level of Sea Spirits rises to Lv. 2, and Sea Spirits will last for 5 more seconds. - Duo Rank 2: increases Energy Charge cap by 1. During Heavenly Rain, recovery rate of energy charge is increased by 30%.

5☆ Temple's Promise (pearl/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using +9 SSR protocores

5☆ Temple's Sunset (pearl/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using +9 and +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Private Trip (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 using +11 and +12 SSR protocores

5☆ Fireworks Vow (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 rank using +9 and +15 SSR protocores

5☆ Tipsy Invitation (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 using +15 SSR protocores

5☆ Before Sunrise (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 rank 3 using +12 and +15 SSR protocores

Companion: Rafayel's Abysswalker Weapon: Hunter Claymore Attribute Bonus For each matched stellactrum, increases DMG Boost 5.0% (currently increased: 30.0%) and DMG Reduction 5.0% (currently increased 30.0%). ♡ Affinity Bonus: 102 (Rafayel’s Protective Skill) When you take a fatal blow, Rafayel teleports to you, blocks a hit, and counter attacks. Enemies will be knocked back. [ HP 4000 || DEF 100 || ATK 200 ] Pair Bonus [AB] - Starting Effect: increases team DMG by 8%, reduces DMG taken by 8%, and increases Crit DMG of Deepsea Persuit by 30%.

5☆ Deep Sea Riches (violet/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using +15 SSR protocores

5☆ Deep Sea Promise (violet/solar) Lv 80/awakened using +15 SSR protocores

5☆ Floral Promise (violet/lunar) Lv 80 using +15 SSR protocores

5☆ Your Fragrance (violet/lunar) Lv 80 rank 2 using +15 SSR protocores

5☆ Whispers (violet/lunar) Lv 80 using +15 SSR protocores

4☆ Ivory Nightfall (violet/lunar) Lv 80/awakened rank 3 using +15 SSR protocores

[esoxy]

So let's get into the nitty-gritty technical details behind my latest project, the National Blue Trail round-trip search application available here:

This project has been fun with me learning a lot about plenty of technologies, including QGis, PostGIS, pgRouting, GTFS files, OpenLayers, OpenTripPlanner and Vita.

So let's start!

In most of my previous GIS projects I have always used custom made tools written in ruby or Javascript and never really tried any of the "proper" GIS tools, so it was a good opportunity for me to learn a bit of QGIS. I hoped I could do most of the work there, but soon realized it's not fully up to the job, so I had to extend the bits to other tools at the end. For most purposes I used QGis to import data from various sources, and export the results to PostGIS, then do the calculations in PostGIS, re-import the results from there and save them into GeoJSON. For this workflow QGIS was pretty okay to use. I also managed to use it for some minor editing as well.

I did really hope I could avoid PostGIS, and do all of the calculation inside QGIS, but its routing engine is both slow, and simply not designed for multiple uses. For example after importing the map of Hungary and trying to find a single route between two points it took around 10-15 minutes just to build the routing map, then a couple seconds to calculate the actual route. There is no way to save the routing map (at least I didn't find any that did not involve coding in Python), so if you want to calculate the routes again you had to wait the 10-15 minute of tree building once more. Since I had to calculate around 20.000 of routes at least, I quickly realized this will simply never work out.

I did find the QNEAT3 plugin which did allow one to do a N-M search of routes between two set of points, but it was both too slow and very disk space intense. It also calculated many more routes than needed, as you couldn't add a filter. In the end it took 23 hours for it to calculate the routes AND it created a temporary file of more than 300Gb in the process. After realizing I made a mistake in the input files I quickly realized I won't wait this time again and started looking at PostGIS + pgRouting instead.

Before we move over to them two very important lessons I learned in QGIS:

There is no auto-save. If you forget to save and then 2 hours later QGIS crashes for no reason then you have to restart your work

Any layer that is in editing mode is not getting saved when you press the save button. So even if you don't forget to save by pressing CTRL/CMD+S every 5 seconds like every sane person who used Adobe products ever in their lifetimes does, you will still lose your work two hours later when QGIS finally crashes if you did not exit the editing mode for all of the layers

----

So let's move on to PostGIS.

It's been a while since I last used PostGIS - it was around 11 years ago for a web based object tracking project - but it was fairly easy to get it going. Importing data from QGIS (more specifically pushing data from QGIS to PostGIS) was pretty convenient, so I could fill up the tables with the relevant points and lines quite easily. The only hard part was getting pgRouting working, mostly because there aren't any good tutorials on how to import OpenStreetMap data into it. I did find a blog post that used a freeware (not open source) tool to do this, and another project that seems dead (last update was 2 years ago) but at least it was open source, and actually worked well. You can find the scripts I used on the GitHub page's README.

Using pgRouting was okay - documentation is a bit hard to read as it's more of a specification, but I did find the relevant examples useful. It also supports both A* search (which is much quicker than plain Dijsktra on a 2D map) and searching between N*M points with a filter applied, so I hoped it will be quicker than QGIS, but I never expected how quick it was - it only took 5 seconds to calculate the same results it took QGIS 23 hours and 300GB of disk space! Next time I have a GIS project I'm fairly certain I will not shy away from using PostGIS for calculations.

There were a couple of hard parts though, most notably:

ST_Collect will nicely merge multiple lines into one single large line, but the direction of that line looked a bit random, so I had to add some extra code to fix it later.

ST_Split was similarly quite okay to use (although it took me a while to realize I needed to use ST_Snap with proper settings for it to work), but yet again the ordering of the segments were off a slight bit, but I was too lazy to fix it with code - I just updated the wrong values by hand.

----

The next project I had never used in the past was OpenTripPlanner. I did have a public transport project a couple years ago but back then tools like this and the required public databases were very hard to come by, so I opted into using Google's APIs (with a hard limit to make sure this will never be more expensive than the free tier Google gives you each month), but I have again been blown away how good tooling has become since then. GTFS files are readily available for a lot of sources (although not all - MAV, the Hungarian Railways has it for example behind a registration paywall, and although English bus companies are required to publish this by law - and do it nicely, Scottish ones don't always do it, and even if they do finding them is not always easy. Looks to be something I should push within my party of choice as my foray into politics)

There are a couple of caveats with OpenTripPlanner, the main one being it does require a lot of RAM. Getting the Hungarian map, and the timetables from both Volánbusz (the state operated coach company) and BKK (the public transport company of Budapest) required around 13GB of RAM - and by default docker was only given 8, so it did crash at first with me not realizing why.

The interface of OpenTripPlanner is also a bit too simple, and it was fairly hard for me to stop it from giving me trips that only involve walking - I deliberately wanted it to only search between bus stops involving actual bus travel as the walking part I had already done using PostGIS. I did however check if I could have used OpenTripPlanner for that part as well, and while it did work somewhat it didn't really give optimal results for my use case, so I was relieved the time I spend in QGIS - PostGIS was not in vain.

The API of OpenTripPlanner was pretty neat though, it did mimic Google's route searching API as much as possible which I used in the past so parsing the results was quite easy.

----

Once we had all of the data ready, the final bit was converting it to something I can use in JavaScript. For this I used my trusted scripting language I use for such occasion for almost 20 years now: ruby. The only interesting part here was the use of Encoded Polylines (which is Google's standard of sending LineString information over inside JSON files), but yet again I did find enough tools to handle this pretty obscure format.

----

Final part was the display. While I usually used Leaflet in the past I really wanted to try OpenLayers, I had another project I had not yet finished where Leaflet was simply too slow for the data, and I had a very quick look at OpenLayers and saw it could display it with an acceptable performance, so I believed it might be a good opportunity for me to learn it. It was pretty okay, although I do believe transparent layers seem to be pretty slow under it without WebGL rendering, and I could not get WebGL working as it is still only available as a preview with no documentation (and the interface has changed completely in the last 2 months since I last looked at it). In any case OpenLayers was still a good choice - it had built in support for Encoded Polylines, GPX Export, Feature selection by hovering, and a nice styling API. It also required me to use Vita for building the application, which was a nice addition to my pretty lacking knowledge of JavaScript frameworks.

----

All in all this was a fun project, I definitely learned a lot I can use in the future. Seeing how well OpenTripPlanner is, and not just for public transport but also walking and cycling, did give me a couple new ideas I could not envision in the past because I could only do it with Google's Routing API which would have been prohibitively expensive. Now I just need to start lobbying for the Bus Services Act 2017 or something similar to be implemented in Scotland as well

[darkaac]

Ok finally finished ghostwire tokyo and, hm. Not gonna lie i'm a bit disappointed.

I'll concede part, perhaps even most, of it is my own expectations based exclusively on the reveal trailer from 2019 (lmao), how I thought it'd be about some sort of modern onmyouji dealing with youkai in current-era Tokyo, with gameplay not dissimilar to what to me is the King of First Person Games With Funky Hand Bullshit (Dishonored): snappy combat, acrobatics, stealth, maybe a power that teleports/slingshots you forward, normal things (Somehow I do have to give it props here for having the voice of a dead person as your companion, something something two nickels).

But of course, as is evident in the way I've framed it, it doesn't... do that.

Before even getting into the combat I have to mention the camera, because I swear no matter how I moved the sliders around there was no way to make it feel comfortable. Either it slingshot 180º as soon as I touched the stick or I'd have to pull it along like I was trying to walk a cat on a leash. This becomes a problem in combat, considering it's first-person and all, even if you slam on L2 to lock on (for it is a capricious little thing and it may not feel like doing that, admittedly it slows down the camera so it's easier to line your shots better). L2 also does 5 quintillion other things so maybe that's why the lockon doesn't quite work right.

Your combat equipment is as follows: you have 3 weapons, each corresponding to an element, you have a bow for longer range, a melee attack that is mostly for breaking objects in the environment (though you can upgrade it to give it more functionality in fights), and a variety of support talismans. Each of the elements has its own characteristics: fire is slow to charge but has good range and damage, water has great damage at the cost of a pretty reduced range, and wind. "Odd way to finish that sentence!" Well, you see, it's because wind doesn't really have, um, downsides, beyond its lack of (inherent) AoE damage*. It's supposed to have mid range and mid damage, but your rate of fire is so fast, you get so many shots with it (around 30 by the end of the game, compared to fire's ~6 and water's ~10), and the shards (ammo) for it are so numerous whenever you break anything, that the other two feel like they're just kinda there, you know. *There are explosive cans and barrels around sometimes, and it doesn't really matter what you hit them with

The combat itself! It's boring. You stand there, finagle with the camera until it's on the enemy, and start spamming R2. After enough damage you can press/hold L2 (depends on how far you are from the enemy) to finish them off. The animations for this are pretty cool, but you don't get i-frames or anything, and if you're hit during the Hold animation it will get interrupted and the enemy won't be stunned anymore. If anything gets close, press L1 for a shield or L3 plus a direction to dodge (NOT forwards you CANNOT dodge forwards if you press L3+Up you SPRINT because it's the SPRINT button). You deal with the bosses in the exact same way, just whaling on them until their core(s) are exposed. That is, except for one of them: the Chapter 3 boss is a stealth fight, where you have to hide out of its view as it patrols in order to snatch its cores away .

Neither I nor GwT itself consider this game a stealth game, but let's look at its options in this regard anyway! You can Crouch and Sneak Kill.

Moving on.

Fine just kidding you can also go over the rooftops and avoid 85% of the overworld enemies, leaving only sheet ghosts (who die in 2 shots anyway), and teruteru bozu - Evil and Fucked Up Edition, who WILL rock your shit because they fly all over your FOV and, as established, the camera doesn't want to collaborate. Remember how I mentioned you have a bow? Sounds like it'd be a good weapon for picking off enemies from a distance without others noticing, yes? Eh. The damage seems inconsistent (a fully charged shot may or may not kill a basic enemy) and the projectile falls off pretty fast. Plus, enemies don't really chainpull based on sound anyway, so it might actually be safer and quicker to just Wind them to death (arrows are also rarer than shards because you have to either find quivers at shrines or buy them).

Ok now we can move on.

The main story! It's there, it's serviceable, it made me say "wow that sure was a Story that I Experienced", no more no less. I've heard the stories for some of the side missions are pretty good, but I didn't feel like going through all of that. The characters are also Okay.

The sound! The SFX department did a pretty good job, impact sounds are appropriately weighty, each element and the transitions between them are nice and distinct, the ambient drone of enemies that haven't found you yet (but are orbiting your location) is unsettling. I cannot say much for the music because none of it really stuck out to me. The cast does a good job and their voices fit the characters well, I think (played with JP voices).

The graphics! This is A PS5 Game so of course it's going for superultraturborrealistic graphics, and of course I mean no disrespect to the artists and modelers and other such members of the team but I do have to wonder What's The Point, Really. I don't want to lay the blame at their feet necessarily but most I was hitting was ~25FPS, less so when it was raining, even less so (to the point of having to relaunch the game completely) after cutscenes stopped playing. Could it be that that's because I'm still using a GTX 960? Maybe so, but Elden Ring and BG3 had no problem with my setup, so maybe the answer here is to have actual graphical options so that I could've put this bad boy on Low and enjoyed a relatively stable experience. Beyond that, I enjoyed the enemy design and how the Visitors represent fears and stresses of modern life: faceless, office worker-looking guys, "lost" children in bright raincoats that summon stronger enemies if they see you, the legless, untethered ghosts of those who've been cut off from those around them, the lady that cuts you up if you answer a question wrong... There are classic youkai around, usually in side missions (nekomata are everywhere as shopkeepers), I have nothing in particular to say about them. The environments are also quite detailed, and I particularly liked the times you get to visit the spirit world, it really felt like a place you were not meant to be in, a serenity that remains unperturbed even while you're fighting for your fucking life against a bunch of guys. Shibuya on the other hand suffers from Open World Game Map Syndrome, so it kinda became a blur after a while, other reviews I read were wowed by how close to the real thing it was, however, so ?

Should you play Ghostwire: Tokyo? idk I'm not your boss, if you buy it now it's certainly not gonna be to support Tango Gameworks (rip), but maybe if you don't go in with the Lofty Dishonored Expectations it becomes a much more enjoyable experience. Honestly if you want a cool story about supernatural happenings in Shibuya with banger after banger in the OST just get your ds and find a copy of (og) TWEWY somewhere.

[why-even-ask]

Vol 2 of fic reading: academic style!

@atlas-slut-of-the-people 's fic:

A Bronx Werewolf in Rapture

Okay, I read this on the plane with only a few hours of sleep. It was so, so good. Sso fucking worth it. I fell asleep for around 10 minutes after reading it and saw Atlas in my dream. Also I was an emotional wreck after this because how could you make us feel so many emotions at once in one fic?

Now the notes taken:

History major makes you analyze a lot of things, so it's a habit to find themes. I'll name a major theme: homoeroticism&violence. They go hand in hand in a lot of instances, not only in this fic but in a lot of published works as well.

Starting with Frank's becoming of Fontaine... Frank steals Fontaine's money, but leaves the clothes on. "He didn't need the clothes," it is explained. Just a short while later, though, he is angered and he exercises violence on Fontaine. After beating him up, he "ripped off Fontaine's clothes, leaving him only in his boxers". Did he need the clothes? No. Why did he strip him down? Maybe it's the vulnerability you want to see in the enemy. Maybe it's the inherent homoerotic tendencies of Frank. Etc, etc. Absolutely amazing.

After killing Fontaine, Frank gets a "sexual shiver". Further confirms the homoeroticism&violence.

On a side note, I underlined how Frank hums "My Wild Irish Rose" after killing Fontaine. Text scribbled: "Identity theft connecting to / signalling Atlas".

Underlined sentence: "Fontaine wondered if he ever fell into the ocean, he'd come out with a silverfish in his mouth." Text scribbled: "Very absentminded. Such a human thought."

Underlined sentence: "...beautiful as it sounded like a tortured man". Further supports the theme. Beauty of violence, passion of violence, say romance and blood... anything goes. Good contrasting description. Fucking slaps.

The way Fontaine eats hearts, literally? Similar thing. Heart is life, love, it all. Consuming, destroying it in a primal fashion is violence&passion intertwined.

The way Fontaine lies in fetal position, naked and bloody after returning into human shape? Text scribbled: Circle of life and death, loss and regaining of innocence.

Slowly introducing Atlas as the Chekhov's gun was wise as hell, by the way.

"Reggie stood in front of [Fontaine] with a worried look on his handsome scarred face." The usage of the words handsome and scarred together also signifies homoromanticism and violence together.

Same with the butcher doc Steinman's flirty words towards Fontaine. He is covered in blood but there is some weird homoerotic vibes coming through. This is such a story. My little text: "Is it a general rule that blood and homoeroticism go hand in hand?"

Okay. Okay. THE KISS. I almost gasped. I was not expecting it and I absolutely loved it. There's a little smiley face I scribbled on the paper next to that.

Where Fontaine meets Jack, and Jack's "eyes looked like he wanted to cry but he couldn't. Frank knew that feeling." That shit hit me so hard. It's just so casually mentioned there, one sentence before the conversation goes on, and it's up to the reader to get fucking hit by that before continuing. It's like pressing a nuclear warhead button and casually sipping your tea as the target gets absolutely demolished. It reminds me of Gustav Hasford's style, to be honest. I scribbled regarding Fontaine: "You torture people with what you can't heal in yourself."

When Jack said "Papa?", it fucked me up.

Fontaine chewing hearts again, text scribbled: "You could say that he's a man of hearts, lol :)".

Okay so again, simple but deep sentences that fuck you up:

"Reggie put his hands on Frank's shoulders, telling him to breathe. Frank threw his arms around him, clinging onto him. He felt like crying. But couldn't."

The syllable count in each sentence gets lower and lower. Poetic.

Frank and Reggie's fight: violence and passion hand in hand.

Frank drinking Irish whisky: nod to Atlas.

And the fucking, the fucking ending. Oh my God. Oh my God, no.

"Ironic. I'll die by my Boss' fangs, but hey, at least I got a kiss outta it!"

& when Fontaine cries:

"I ain't ever known a wolf ta' cry!"

My text: You DON'T invite your lover to mercy end you. No :((((

And after the end, with capital letters, I wrote a swearword of great pain in my native language.

Last notes down the last page, for you:

You sure have a way of writing sad scenes of grief, whether of love or death or both. Same goes for passion and violence. You get excitement and/or empathy from your readers. You draw it like blood from them.

And, to talk about your way of describing emotions, I have noticed that you don't label things. You don't hop in to explain the emotions in great deal. You leave it in its complex state. It puts everything in the messy state of life. You know, life's more like a garden invaded by wild weeds than a well-tended one. You don't try to assume the role of a gardener. You are a photographer here, just documenting it. It's about people who bottle things up, or mask things behind their professional name anyway. It's about people who don't sort their gardens out.

And it works.

I've been thinking about your Ryan/Fontaine fic for the last few days, the one part where this exact thing happens, actually. The part where, after everything, Fontaine pulls Ryan close. Ryan asks, "What are you doing?". Fontaine shushes him and kisses him. Ryan only says "Frank". Fontaine sighs, drops his head, then pushes Ryan off and gets up. That scene is very, very unexpected. It's tons of unlabelled, inexplainably complex emotions of the two men. Deserves a post of its own once/if I get it printed as well.

Thank you so, so much for this read. I absolutely enjoyed it!!!

[echantedtoon]

Cameron x Fabian P3

"........" "........." "Cameron? Are you all right?" "Y-Yes. It's just......nobody's ever bothered to me that before." "Huh. I'm surprised no one else has asked." "I guess you're the first." "I guess so." It went silent for a bit. "You really want to know?" "Only if you're willing to tell." "........" She calmly set her cup down. "*sigh* I guess it started when I was a little girl, and my mother told me fairy tales about unicorns, mermaids, princesses being saved by knights.....All that stuff." He listened, confused.".........That doesn't seem like something that would scare you." "I know....but you didn't have to deal with Sasha." "Who?" "My old babysitter. She had this strange obsession with black clothes and twisted seemingly harmless stories into twisted dark tales.......I won't go into too much detail." "......It sounds awful." "It was." "Didn't you tell anyone?" "I.......couldn't. My mom had to work really hard to support us, and Sasha was the only one that would accept her low pay...." "But because of that....you developed a fear of both animals and mystical beings." She didn't look at him."Weird, huh?" "Not at all." She looked at him surprised." People develop different fears in different ways. No one should be ashamed of that." There was a small pause of silence between them. ".....You're really.....understanding." He shrugged." I only state the truth." ".....Thanks." He looked at her confused." For what?" "Asking......and listening. It...feels good to get it out finally." "....." He slowly smiled." Don't mention it. That is what friends do." She smiled back. He picked up the tea pot. "Would you like some more tea?" "That'd be-" BBBBZZZZZZ!!!! They were interrupted by a vibrating, buzzing noise. "Oh! Uh...that's me." Her cheeks turned red in embarrassment." S-Sorry." "It's quite alright." He watched as she fumbled before grabbing her phone. Pressing a button, she held it up to her ear. "H-Hello?...Oh! Hi, Jackie.......He did what? Why?......Ok. I'll get there as fast as I can. Where are you?......And where is that?.....Alright. I'll be right there. See you soon." She ended the call before standing up and looking at him." I'm really sorry, Fabian. I gotta go." "What's wrong?" "Well....Al was doing some tricks for the kids at the party and something went wrong. He fell on his arm, and they think it's broken. Jackie wanted me to come help calm down the situation. I'm really sorry." "No, no. It's perfectly fine. Jackie needs your help." He got up and followed her to the front door.She opened it, but stopped and looked up at him. "Thanks for the tea and everything. Sorry I have to rush off like this." "Don't worry about it. you should........go..." A pair of arms wrapped around him in a hug. "Thanks for understanding," she said before letting go and rushing off. He silently watched her go before slowly sitting down. He reached a paw up to touch his cheek. it felt warm and he came to the realization that he was blushing. "............I'll be darned."

[technowoah]

Can I request a prompt #37 with Karl Jacobs? I love your writing btw :)

Ring(s)

The four times Karl tried to propose and the one time he actually did.

- Karl Jacobs x gen!neutral reader!

- Prompts: 37) "Are you proposing?!"

⚠︎ swearing, fluff, angst if you squint and a rushed ending. I didn't proofread either

an// TYSM FOR LIKING MY WORK 😭ALSO Thanks for requesting and sorry this came out so late! Hope you enjoy :)

To say that Karl loved you was an understatement. He adored you and practically worshipped the ground you stood on. He is so respectful, which is a major upgrade from your other boyfriends, and loves you for who you are. You didn't have to put on a facadè at all during the 3 years you two have dated.

This love wasn't a one way thing. You loved him just as much, or even more, than he did. Everything he did you supported, you were always cheering him on from wherever you were. You were here for the good and the bad, and he was too. You two never shyed away from admiting your love and support. You could write a essay on each thing you love about Karl.

The idea of marriage came up during a late night dinner at Denny's. The idea came so naturally to you, so it surprised Karl that you didn't tense up. Karl was tense when bringing up the topic of marriage, so when you said "Yeah, I wanna get married to you one day." so casually it caught him off gaurd.

You two had already talked about marriage time and time again, but this time Karl wanted to take the initiative. He was ready to get married and since the marriage talk was just a few months ago it was fresh in his mind. Karl could vividly imagine you walking down the aisle towards him looking angelic. He could see everything now and he wanted those daydreams to become a reality. He wanted to physically feel your hands against his as you two say "I do" to one another.

He couldn't stop thinking about settling down in a nice house with you. Karl already bought a ring for you and always has it with him. Now he justs needs to figure out how to tell you.

1st proposal: Fireworks

"THIS IS THE MOST EXPENSIVE FIREWORK IN THE ENTIRE WORLD-"

You blocked out Jimmy's yelling as you sat in a lawn chair in the middle of the woods. Karl had invited you to a MrBeast video shoot because he thought it would be a great early 4th of July. It was late at night and slightly cool outside, so you were wearing a MrBeast hoodie Karl was wearing earlier. You zoned out as the boys talked to the camera over and over again, taking multiple shots.

You found yourself looking at Karl most of the time you sat there and you always caught his gaze towards you. Every time you caught him looking at you, you sent him a small wave or blow him a kiss and every time he sent a shy wave back or sent a more exaggerated kiss back.

During halfway through the shooting you begrudgingly had to move your lawn chair further and further away from your original spot. Karl always checked up on you before and after each firework set were blown up. He has been acting fidgety around you and you didnt know why. When you tried to confront him about it he would always turn away and go back to the boys without a glance back, and his hands in his pockets.

You loved watching the guys play with so many different types of fireworks, this was a great 4th of July for you, but you wished that Karl was sitting next to you feeling the bliss that you were.

You were currently sitting behind bulletproof glass while the guys had a control panel on their lap. Karl kept sending glances towards you and you looked at him and smiled whishing he was next to you and not over by the guys. You knew it was selfish, but he invited you here.

Karl kept bouncing his leg, he kept his hand in his pocket which held the ring. He kept sending glances towards you, knowing he should be on one knee right about now. Jimmy was about to fire off the last rocket of the night and Karl couldn't seem to go over and ask you to marry him. He knew he was hilding himself back which made him hate himself. You deserved a good night and he hoped you enjoyed the fireworks, but he knew on the ride back he would have to apologize.

He stayed with the boys as they went to go see the fireworks they would be setting off soon. Once they came back they were all about to press the button to set off the expensive fireworks they counted down from 5 and he looked towards you. You were standing up with your arms crossed, hopefully shielding yourself from the cold, and looking towards the fireworks that were going to burst. They finally pressed the button the fireworks went off.

Each burst of light in the air sent a glow onto your smiling face. Karl sent a somber glace and marveled in how the explosion of the fireworks sent a beautiful glow around you.

This wasnt the right time. Next time.

2nd proposal: Donuts

"Im sorry for last night." Karl apologized as you both took a seat at a booth by the window at the small coffee and donut shop.

This was supposed to be an apology for the last failed proposal. Instead of spending time with you, he kept his distance which was the opposite of what he really wanted to do. This was a way to spend much needed time with eachother, but this was also another attempt at a proposal.

Karl wanted to hide the ring in the middle of a donut so when you inevitably look at it when he hands it to you, you'll see the ring and then he'll propose right there. To him it seemed flawless.

You never wanted a huge proposal. You didnt want that much attention on you when your future significant other would propose. Something simple would be the ideal proposal and you've hinted that many times to Karl and right now he was listening. There were only two other couples in the small diner because others were picking up donuts and leaving. If he decided to get down on one knee it would cause a scene.

You stayed silent for a moment looking at Karl before deciding to speak.

"It's no problem. Please dont stress out about it." You smiled softly and he smiled back at you. "I mean the fireworks were beautiful, but you all were screaming too much."

You both laughed as you both recalled that night in the desert.

"Yeah I just didn't..I didn't really talk to you all night. I feel bad." Karl said fiddling with his hands.

"Its in the past Karl. And I still know you love me." You reached out to grab both of his hands and hold his cool hands in yours.

"I do love you." He whispered for only you to hear leaving both of you smiling ear to ear.

"What kind of donuts you want?" Karl asked looking into your eyes carefully.

You thought about it for a while before speaking up. "I'll keep it simple. Icing with sprinkles. Surprise me with the icing color!" You exclaimed while letting go of his hands for a second.

Once you two let go of eachothers hands he immediately went to his pocket and played with the velvet box. He nodded his head and without a word he stood up to meet the cashier behind the display box of donuts. He ordered only one donut as you said with orange icing this time.

He paid for the food and stayed at the counter where he paid. Karl looked back to see if you were paying attention to him only to see you looking out the window at the people passing by. Karl smiled at the sight knowing he really wants to marry you one day and then he looked down at the glistening ring inside of the box.

Karl was supposed to put the ring in the middle of the donut that was laying alone on a napkin on the counter. He started to think of the possibilities of what could happen. What if you didn't see the ring and crumble the ring with the napkin and throw it away? What if you accidentally put the ring in your mouth? What if you weren't hungry anymore?

He looked over again to where you were looking at him giving him the same smile you gave during the fireworks. Karl sighed and once again closed the box with the ring. He was a coward and he knew that.

Karl picked up the donut from the counter and made his way over to you.

"Here's your donut with sprinkles and orange icing!" Karl exclaimed putting emphasis on the 'orange' part.

"Thanks babe!" You smiled as he sat down across from you. "Wait, you didn't get anything for yourself?"

Karl sighed again for what seemed like the 100th time today and put on a smile. "I ended up not being as hungry as I thought I was."

"Well I could always share!" You started to eat your donut as Karl ended up looking outside.

Unbeknownst to you he was thinking of another way to propose without himself getting in his own head.

He'll find a time.

3rd proposal: Livestream

"Chat! As you can see I have my significant other here with me!" Karl exclaimed to his Twitch following.

You were sat next to him in another one of his office chairs with a blanket across your lap. You loved to join Karl's streams, the last couple of time you two played minecraft, gang beats, played on the nitendo switch for a while, but this time he didn't tell you what games you two would be playing. Karl just told you to come over tonight and ended up asking to join him for a stream last minute.

Now you are here next to him as Karl glows with excitement as he streams to his growing followers. You loved how he interacted with his fans and had a genuine connection with them, but sometimes that strong connection can, and has led to some nights where you had to stay the night and comfort him from his inner demons and the internet. Those nights made you love him even more, the vulnerability he gave to you made you comfortable with him.

It seems like the more time you spend eith him the more you want to officially get married. You didn't want to rush him because you soon figured out for yourself that there is no rush to express your love, which you two do everyday day. You two can get eloped in Vegas and you'll be happy, as long as you can spend the rest of your life with the man you love.

Karl kept sending glances towards you throughout the stream hoping you were having fun with the chill, q and a stream. Again he wanted to propose to you tonight during the stream. He loved showing your relationship whenever he could and whenever you would allow him to. His community also loved you the moment you became his significant other, so hopefully this will be a beautiful moment.

You talked to his chat as he contemplated, again, about whether to propose tonight. It wasn't infront of people, it was infront of a screen and it would be on Twitter in less than a week. This would be a good moment, but then again he wanted this moment to be between you two and he couldn't find the right time nor the right "moment".

As the stream continues you ended up wrapping yourself fully in the blanket and lying your head on his shoulder. You both cuddled eachother while you two answered questions. Karl kissed the top of your head and finally collected all of his thoughts.

He didn't need to propose to officially claim his love to you. Karl knew you both loved eachother to the ends of the Earth and back. There's no need for ceremony and the one day he will propose, he know it will come naturally. There is no need to force it, and now he wont.

Only time will tell.

4th proposal: spongebob

"Are you ready, kids?

Aye, aye, Captain!

I can't hear you!

Aye, aye, captain!

Oh!"

The TV illuminated the comfortable, dark room you two were in. You were lying on the couch with Karl with the blanket you had while streaming. It was late at night after the stream and you two ended up watching re-runs of spongebob. Karl sang along to the theme song softly while you hummed along. This was the 4th episode you both watched this night and it was a great way to end the week.

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Karl asked softly with tiredness in his voice.

"Of couse. Im too tired to move, so thanks for offering." You chuckled.

"You're welcome here anytime." Karl yawned and squeezed your sides. "Do you want popcorn?"

"Hell yeah." You got off of Karl as he walked to the kitchen.

He put the bag into the microwave and leaned back onto the kitchen counter as he waited. Karl looked over to the side and saw a empty vase which was next to the velvet box he was carrying with him this whole week. He shook his head and laughed to himself before getting the popcorn out of the microwave, dumping it in a bowl and walking back to see you taking up the whole couch.

"Move over or I'll sit on you." Karl said standing above her.

"Is that a promise?" You teased.

"Okay then!" He turned around and began to slowly and dramatically fake sitting ontop of you.

You began to laugh and try to push him off of you. You successfully got him to sit down and returned to your previous position, but this time with popcorn.

"I love you, you know that?" You hummed into his chest.

"Yeah, and I love you more."

"I love you most."

"I love you mostest." Karl laughed.

"That's not a word." You smiled.

"I love you so much I made up a word for ya." Karl kissed you head and you hugged him tighter.

"You know what?" Karl chuckled. "I love you so much that I tried to propose to you 3 times this week."

Karl finished and you sat up from your spot looking surprised. Karl sat up as well thinking he made a mistake telling you. He was abkut to apologize, but you beat him to speak.

"Oh my gosh!" You exhaled.

"Look, I'm sorr-"

"Are you proposing?!" You exclaimed with a smile on your face.

"Huh-?"

Karl was surprised just like you were before. He remembered that he wanted the Maybe this was the moment he needed this week.

Karl grabbed both of your hands and caressed them both, looking into your eyes. "I was planning to all week. But now I think this is a good moment. So Y/N? Will you marry me?"

"Of course I will!" You enveloped him into a tight hug and peppered his face with kisses. He finally found his moment and he couldn't be happier.

"You said you tried to propose three other times?" You questioned. "When was that?"

"Its a long story."

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

[endeaavorr]

[18.23]

the third vibrate from your phone successfully prodded your eyes to wake. your left arm numb from the way you accidentally slept on it hurriedly reaches out to put your phone on silent, not wanting to wake him up. ah yes, him. you look at the dimmed screen of your phone, 5.00 am 8th of August.

your heart warms at the sight. you lean back to the mattress facing up, trying to stretch your body properly before starting up the day. you turn your head to the left and see his sleeping figure. the slow rise of his chest, the slight part of his lips, and the nasty scar, as shoto calls it, settling happily across the side of his face.

you don’t usually get to see this side of him, either because he doesn’t come home that night from work, or you’re too tired to pay attention, or the two of you passed out right after doing it. so you hit the snooze button once more and studies his face, your right hand now softly leaning on his broad chest, neat fingers tracing the outlines of his never aging face.

but the morning haze soon is replaced by your default mode. pulling enji’s cover to his chin to keep him warm, you get up to start preparing breakfast, you wanted to make it extra special for today.

for the last month the two of you has been, how do you say it, distant. you were taking extra shifts at your agency to afford this watch you wanted to give him on his birthday. even so, since you can’t tell him why he’s starting to come home to a cold empty house, it’s been quiet and rather uncomfortably awkward. you kinda feel bad in a way, so you’re determined to make today work.

you were so drowned in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize enji already woke up and finished his morning run.

“good morning, papa.” you greet him with your usual kind eyes.

“morning,”

he’s fresh out of the shower, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a lounge short, a small towel sitting on his damp hair. he sits on the tatami while you plate breakfast for the two of you. the air is dry and suddenly even the tatami is not that comfortable.

breakfast was quiet, it has always been quiet. but not like this, it’s normally filled with you clinging to his arm and playfully sneak your head under his arms right above his folded feet, facing him with a half closed sleepy smile.

you steal glances at him but he’s always looking down. just when you have the courage to break the silence, he says i enjoyed the food, and puts his dish in the sink.

“i’m staying out tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

you were only able to muster a ‘good luck at work, papa!’ before he’s gone again.

it’s 5pm. you just got home from enji’s agency, dropping of a set of suit you picked up from the launderer. reservation is at 8pm, you have three hours to call him about it and get ready yourself.

“hello,”

“ah papa ! are you busy now ?”

“yeah, i thought i told you this morning.”

it’s a lie, you asked his assistant and his schedule is empty from 5pm above.

“well, not according to your assistant apparently.”

it’s silent.

“well, i just dropped off something for you at the receptionist ! make sure to wear them, dinner’s at ___ at 8pm under my name, i’ll see you there papa ! i love you!”

“wait—“

you leaned to the wall behind you and press your phone to your chest in a relieved sigh. really, you’ve been living together literally your whole life, how are you still nervous like a preteen talking to their first crush ?

you shake your head mentally and start to get ready. in the mean time.. enji is dumbfounded. he’s just confused and the receptionists are grinning knowingly, which makes him even more, confused. good thing his office has a shower and a spare room though.

it’s 7pm. you apply some final touches of light make up. the two light honks from outside signals that your driver is here, ready to take you. the restaurant is pretty close from enji’s office, but it takes a good 25 min walk from the todoroki residence and you don’t wanna ruin your hair.

you get up and look at yourself in the mirror, you’re wearing a black designer dress that exposes your shoulders with a small purse on the right of your hand. you’re ready to go.

8 pm.

“ah, endeavor-san, how can i help you tonight ?”

the hostess welcomes enji with a polite smile.

“i have a reservation under my daughter’s name, todoroki y/n.”

“right this way, sir.”

enji follows the hostess to a more secluded table from the others, he notices it’s way quieter than the main dining hall, the view next to both of the seats are the wide view of city lights. the waiter serving them tonight introduces himself and hands him the menu, while pouring water from a sealed glass bottle to enji’s glass. he looks through some pages but then decided to just wait for you to order.

you arrive no later than five minutes after he did, welcomed by the same hostess, and immediately taken to your table.

“you look good, papa.”

“you too,”

he takes his time to scan over you, your neatly styled hair, your set of greenish ocean eyes that matches his, the scar on your left cheek that you wear proudly, and lastly the way he realizes again just how breathtaking you are.

on the other side, you feel your heart flutter. he looks really good. the slightly opened white shirt, the perfectly tailored navy suit, emphasizing his strong arms that has saved way too many lives, too many times.

enji was too busy staring at you he didn’t even bother taking a look at his menu. and by the time the waiter was ready to take his order, he just went with the classic i’ll have one of what she’s having.

“how’s your day, papa?” you started the conversation.

“it’s normal, busy.”

you place your right hand on top of his, thumb gently rubbing comforting strokes on his palm.

“i missed you, you know.”

“well, you’re the one who’s been away so much.”

you’re honestly a bit startled at his bluntness, he usually won’t do things like this. you get a bit shy and shifts your gaze from his to where your palms are lightly entangled.

“i’m sorry papa, i can’t help it, i needed extra shifts.”

“for what ? is it about money ? you know you can always ask me, right ? i don’t mind providing for you for the rest of my life as long as i get to come home to you, and not just a cold dead hall.”

you’re out of words, his brows is contorted, and the glint in his eyes shows something you guessed to be dissapointment ? guilt ?

“i’m sorry,” you say again, hands shyly squeezing his and the other toying with the ends of your skirt. your heart still goes on a marathon when it comes to him.

the dinner was nice, it’s slow paced and calm, just like how he likes it. the little tense you two had is now slowly melting away. opting to take a walk home instead, you walk hand in hand under the generous light of the moon.

enji took off his suit halfway and put it around you, keeping his right hand in his pocket while his other is entangled with your much smaller one. his shirt has now one more button open, sleeves rolled neatly three times as they rest proper on half of his arm.

you can’t stop smiling, butterflies going crazy in your stomach like a lovesick fool, that you maybe are. you don’t know if it’s from the wine, but he’s way more talkative right now, you’re making jokes here and there, laughing to yourself while gripping his hand tighter and hugging his arms with your other hand. he’s laughing a little too, not that he doesn’t appreciate it, that’s just how he is.

you’re waiting to cross the road at the last junction before you reach your home, the road is clean empty but the light is still red. the both of you don’t mind, he takes this chance to pull you tighter against him and breathe the always comforting natural scent of your hair.

your solace is interrupted by the ding of the crossing light turning green, but enji doesn’t let go, so you start walking slowly like that, pressed against each other, steps getting tangled making it hard to walk. the things you do for love.

it’s 11 pm.

he goes in first while you lock the front door and make sure all the lamps in the yard are on. he sits down and starts to take off his shoe, you quickly slipped of your heels and crouched between his legs to do it for him instead. your short dress riding up, displaying your already exposed milky thighs in its glory.

you can tell where he’s looking and feel the twitch of your insides from the yearning you’ve been holding back. he reaches out his right hand to caress your cheek. you lean to his rough hands and give him a faint smile before you push your body towards his in attempt of pinning him down, disguised by an innocent hug. your head resting on his chest while he supports himself with one arm and holds you back with the other. he face touches the bare skin of your neck and finds comfort there. pressing kisses that quickly turned wet.

you lift up your head and pulled his supporting hand towards you, making sure he’s fully laid on the wooden floor, arms caging his head, hazy eyes looking down on his meaningful orbs. it’s not long before you crash your lips together in a desperate kiss, your spit drooling down his chin, his stubble grazing the smooth well cared surface of your face.

you sit down on his crotch and he abruptly breaks the kiss with a groan, but you’re quick to grab his face and pull him in an even more passionate open mouthed kiss, his hands find the swell of your ass and guide them so you’re now grinding on his growing bulge too.

the mutual need to breathe forces both of you to break the kiss. foreheads now touching together, heavy ragged breath mixing, the intimacy making you dizzy. but the high wears off sooner than you thought and you can’t help but hide your reddened face to his neck, not wanting him to see you blush, hands clutching him tight as he sits back up holding you properly.

“let’s go take a bath, i’m sweaty.”

you can only offer a weak nod, still too embarrassed of what you just did. he hoists you up to his shoulder and carries you to the bathroom.

it’s so warm. you’re sitting between his legs leaning to him, his strong arms on your stomach protectively, body radiating comforting warmth to yours, making the both of you completely relaxed.

you almost let yourself fall asleep if not that you remember about his gift. so you get up first, telling him to enjoy the bath a little longer and go sprint to your room.

you quickly dried your hair and put on a set of babydoll you’ve been keeping for this day. it’s a simple white see through babydoll with soft lace that hangs prettily on your supple thighs. you put on your sleep robe and go to his room with a deep green paperbag on your right hand.

it’s 11.30 pm.

the futon is laid and you’re sitting above it on your knees, your gift hidden behind your figure.

enji comes out of the bathroom already in his sleepwear, a black set of loose shirt and a matching pants. his hands are still busy trying to dry his own hair until he looks up at the sight of you and pauses.

you pat the spot next to you, signaling him to sit there. he walks up to you and sit crossed legged in front of you. he can see the rather big paperbag behind you but decided not to say anything.

“what is it ?”

you opened your mouth in attempt to answer him but was left with nothing, so you just shoved the paperbag and places it in on the little space between the two of you, encouraging him to open it. he’s still not getting it and looks at you with genuinely asking eyes, but you’re too stubborn to meet his eyes and just keep looking at the walls to your right, peach blush already forming again.

“it’s for you,” you brave yourself to look at him in the eyes and finally say it, “happy birthday, papa.”

enji felt like his brain short circuited. but you ushered him to open your gift before he could say anything. you watch as his big hands fully envelop the big green box inside, the one your clumsy hands almost dropped.

he opend the box and stares at it for a while. it’s a platinum rolex day-date 40 from it’s 2021 men collection.

“this is expensive,” was the first respond he let out.

“we-well, that’s why i’d been taking extra shifts,” you sheepishly rub the back of your head. enji’s strong gaze didn’t waver.

“you didn’t have to—“

“but i want to !” you cut him,

“it’s just—“

you grab the pillow behind you and hide your face in it, finding it hard to speak to him eye to eye like this. “i love you, and sometimes i can’t help my feelings, i just thought, this is what people do to their loved ones.. you know,” you explain in a voice growing smaller than before, almost completely muffled by the pillow.

he lets out a sigh before repacking his gift, putting it back inside the paperbag and placing it on his side. you’re getting nervous.. is he mad ? did he not like it ? were you pushing it ?

all your silent doubt dies down as he pulled you close to his chest.

“i love you too, thank you.”

his voice runs beautifully through your ear, the sensation going straight to your heart. you ease up and holds him back.

“um, papa,”

“hn”

“i still have another gift,”

he pulls back and looks at you with a raised brow. you better not have unnecessarily give up you rest just to buy him a ‘gift’, it translates. both your hands come out in front of you in a waving motion to dismiss his half true accusation, but you struggled so much trying to pull out the right words.. you just let out a bashful sigh and unties the knot in front of your outer, before letting the dense fabric hit the floor, revealing the pretty babydoll sitting pretty and proper accentuating your pretty pretty curves.

he stills.

“do-does it look weird..?”

he scans over you for a while but your embarrassment made you thought he was looking at you in a weird way.

your cheeks are heating up, eyes glued to your thighs before you hear a rustle and suddenly your back is against the futon with one arm pinned above your head by his weight, and your other one is in his, you look at you favorite set of eyes that matches yours and the blue sky, he presses your hand to the side of is face and land a deep kiss on the innerside of your wrist, leaning against it while staring back at you.

it was a good birthday.

happy birthday todoroki enji, 8.8.21

[odetojeons]

No Better Canvas To Paint A Ruined Landscape — Lee Seokmin

request: hii can i request a sub!seokmin x dom fem reader?? you catch him touching himself and then he is super shy about it when you confront him!!<3

tags: soft dom and fem!reader, shy and sub!seokmin, cockring, orgasm control, light bondage, established relationship, praise kink, noona kink, semi-public sex (kind of?), snowballing, unprotected sex, blowjob, fluff at the end if you squint, seokmin being adorable, and potentially killing me with his cuteness

a/n: I’m a whore for sub seokmin. that’s all I have to say. definitely not alive after this. tbh this was my favorite tumblr smut until now all because seokmin. lee seokmin. yeah. bye.

word count: 7202

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin looks like he might combust into a thousand tiny Seokmins really soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You keep staring at him in interest, looking with an amused lifted eyebrow how his red face turns to the side to avoid your eyes like it’s some sort of plague. There’s a lonely drop of sweat running down his left temple, a hand coming to swap at it and freezing in the middle of the act when your eyes find each other, the blush creeping in his cheeks burning with an even darker shade as you watch fascinated the bob of his adam’s apple when Seokmin swallows nervously.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He jumps a little where he’s sitting when you nudge his feet with yours. Seokmin comically widens his eyes at you when you mouth “what’s going on?”, quick to shake his head what it seems like at least fifty times. A frown forms on your brows, your boyfriend being oddly nervous and suspicious is poking on your curiosity, especially when he excuses himself to the bathroom in a hurry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You stare at his empty seat, the plate of food laying almost untouched on the table. It’s been a while since the both of you hosted a party on your house, so you wanted to make the experience good for your friends — and you know Seokmin does too, but for some reason he’s acting… whatever the way he’s acting —, having even put a lot of effort into dressing up for the occasion. Something must be wrong, so you excuse yourself from the friends who are sitting on the table and go through the little crowd, heading towards the bathroom.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Seok-ah?” you ask softly where you stand right in front of the door. No answers. You knock again, this time a little bit louder. Maybe he didn’t listen to you, the music loud enough to shake you all the way to your bones. Again, no answers. Your frown worsens, gripping the handle and turning it just to be met with an empty bathroom. “Seokmin?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He’s not there, and okay, there's definitely something wrong. Seokmin sometimes tends to go through stuff you have no idea about because he keeps thinking he might bother you with his problems, and you just want him to know that you love him so much that it pains you more to see him suffering in silence than hearing him talking about it. Overall, Seokmin is the biggest overthinker ever, your sweet and shy boyfriend, a ball of sunshine despite his little defects you’re so fond of. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You go to the master bedroom, your last hope to where he must be as your house doesn’t have many rooms. Worry settles deep within your stomach thinking that Seokmin might be sick or something.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He isn’t.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Quite the opposite, actually. Seokmin is more than healthy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You were not even remotely prepared for what you find inside when you open the door of your room. Seokmin is standing in front of the old escritoire you bought from an antique store, one of his sprawled hands supporting the weight of his body on the desk and broad back dressed in a white social shirt, still turned to you as the music overlapped the sound of your arrival — everything normal at first, and you’re about to open your mouth to question if everything is alright with him when your eyes catch a movement.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin’s arm is working on something really fast, hand going up and down, tiny, soft noises coming from him, and your mind goes blank when the realization that Seokmin is jerking off sinks deep within your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a shiver rocking on your body, head spinning.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Seokmin,” is what you say, monosyllabic and completely flabbergasted.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin snaps his head so fast in your direction you think he might have broken his neck for a second, eyes widening right before he closes them very tightly and moans loud enough that makes you want to close the door in fear of someone listening, but you’re too stuck in the fact that Seokmin almost just came to even be able to move from your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“F-fuck,” he cries out, the grip he has around the base of his cock almost painful, probably there to hold his orgasm back. You’re stunt into silence as he scrambles desperately to hide his beloved friend back into his pants, struggling with the zipper in the process because the bulge is too big.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Seokmin,” you say again, like it’s the only word that remains in your vocabulary. Your mouth goes dry, heat burning on your lower stomach when you look at the notebook in front of Seokmin and sees one of the videos you record to be his fap material when you’re not around, playing on the screen. But you are around. “What are you doing?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s more than obvious what he’s doing. Even so, you still find yourself asking.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin still hasn’t turned around. You know he must be very embarrassed right now — who wouldn’t anyway —, if the blush spreading all the way down to his ears and neck is anything to go by. His body stiffens when a soft moan comes from the notebook speakers, hands reaching to close the video and the screen so fast he knocks some things off of the table and into the ground.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Turn around,” you tell him, finally finding enough strength to close the door and lock it. Seokmin flinches at the sound, shoulders tensing, but he remains unmoving. “Now.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He flinches again, this time because of the finality in your tone, leaving no spaces for objections. Seokmin then complies, turning his body to you like every movement pains him deep within the bones, hands coming to cover the front of his pants and head hung low in shame.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You take a sweet moment to admire Seokmin’s figure; his shirt is open until the third button, firm and red chest peeking out of it, sweat glistening his skin to a beautiful shade of gold, biceps looking like it would pop out of the sleeves of his social shirt and lips swollen, probably because he must have bitten them really hard. Fuck, your boyfriend is so hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You lift a finger and crook it a few times towards yourself. He gets the message, coming closer lightning fast and stopping right in front of you, still refusing to look you in the eyes. You had enough of this attitude, spinning him around so his back could be against the door and cradling his chin between your fingers to tilt his head enough to look at you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Aren’t you going to answer?” you question with a pout, voice poisonously sweet. Seokmin’s shiver doesn’t go unnoticed by you, satisfaction licking on your lower stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I— I-I’m, I was…” Seokmin mumbles intelligibly, a moan escaping his lips when your nails sink onto his shoulder and the darkness swimming in your eyes leaves his legs weak. He can’t shiver, needs to remain composed or else he might embarrass himself further, if that’s even possible, might make you realize the reason why he’s like this, might make him—

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“‘M s-sorry.” he offers, hips bucking slightly when he hears your pleased hum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you though, sunshine?” bodies pressing closer, you watch Seokmin’s arms twitch, not knowing if he’s allowed to touch you. You smile at that, biting at his lower lip. “You were so desperate to touch yourself you came here all alone and jerked off to one of my videos? You don’t seem very apologetic to me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He whines at your condescending tone, head hitting the door with a soft thud when you tilt his chin back to lick a hot stripe up his neck, pulling it to the previous position once you’re done teasing him a little. There’s a sound threatening to come out of you when you see how much want is written all over his face.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I-it’s because you look—” Seokmin’s sentence gets cut off in the middle when he feels the feather-like trace of your fingers on his hands that were still doing a very poor job of hiding the press of his cock to his pants. It brings tiny goosebumps all over his skin, Seokmin needing to take a deep breath before proceeding. “You look s-so hot with these clothes…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your touch stills completely, and Seokmin’s heart might jump out of his thoracic cage any time soon, but even so he doesn’t stop talking.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“And, and t-the way you were dancing was just— j-just so fucking sexy,” he mumbles quietly, closing his eyes for a second like he’s remembering how you swayed your hips obscenely to the beat of the music earlier. A flash of a memory runs through your mind, Seokmin sitting on your couch, manspreading as he watches you with one of his legs moving up and down nervously. “Want to f-fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah?” you tangle a hand on his hair, fisting it so you could pull his head backwards and pleasure yourself with the moan he gives you. Seokmin blinks at the ceiling, like he’s willing himself not to move. “My baby boy got hard watching me dance?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The pet name does something to him. It always does. Seokmin bucks his hips involuntarily, the front of his hands hitting your stomach as he ruts against his palms with such a whiny mewl you could swear you feel a punch to your lower stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes. So hard.” and his voice, so sweet and beautiful, makes your penties start to soak. His hot breath fans your face, chest heaving with the intensity of it. “I’m so hard for you, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You slap his hand away. Seokmin turns his head to look at you, eyes big like he has been caught doing something very wrong.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Lost your manners, sunshine?” grabbing at his wrists, you pry them away to take a better look at his bulge, finding endearing how his cheeks immediately go redder at that. It looks painful, the outline of his cock pressing tight against the fabric of his blue pants, and you try not to let the smugness seep through your voice when you notice a wet patch of precum on it. “You’re that desperate you even forgot how to ask?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You trap his hands behind his back; realistically, Seokmin could break free at any time he wants, with him being almost twice as bigger than you, but you know he wouldn’t do it because right now you got this kind of power over him that surrenders Seokmin putty, and it turns you on so much. He looks so good this way, back resting against the door, hips stuck to the front like he wants you to do something, eyes looking down at you with a hunger, a hunger to take what he wants already, but at the same time with an enormous amount of submission.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And Seokmin is huge, not even just down there but in the rest of his body as well. Huge, thick thighs, huge chest, huge biceps; he is broad enough to tower over you even if the height difference wasn’t so big. And still, he chooses to give in to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Everything about Lee Seokmin drives you insane.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please…” he says, barely above a whisper. With the door closed, it was more than enough for you to be able to listen even through the loud music going on outside. “P-please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please what?” you press further, fingers coming back to make a hot trail on his cock. Seokmin bucks forward a little, whining when you press a thumb on the cockhead.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmmm,” is all he answers, face burning with shame when he averts his eyes elsewhere. Seokmin knows very well what you want him to call you, it only happens when you’re feeling extra mean and horny, but he’s always so shy about it even if he has called you that more times than you can count.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Adorable.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You sigh, letting go of his cockhead and wrists to cradle his face with your hands, swallowing the frustrated cry he lets out with a kiss. Seokmin takes a few seconds to react, mind in haze with all of the electrifying horniness shocking his body, and then you feel his hands hold on your waist tight enough to leave marks. He moans, as if having your lips on his is the best reward he could ever ask for, and you yelp when Seokmin turns you both around and slams your back against the door. Seokmin kisses you rough, tongue pressing so hard on yours your head ends up hitting the door with a faint noise.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Fisting a hand on his hair, you hold onto it tight enough to make him hiss at the slight, but pleasurable pain. Seokmin is trying to take what he wants and you’re having none of that, using the hold on him to control the pace of the kiss and tilt his head to the place where you want it to go. You suck at his bottom lip, sinking your teeth in the plump flesh just so you could soothe it later with your tongue — and do that again, and again, and again. It doesn’t take long for him to be putty with your ministrations, knees buckling under his weight until he’s kneeling on the floor. You bend down slightly as he does so, kissing his breath away.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look who’s getting all bold now,” you scoff when you part away, Seokmin’s eyes half lidded and swollen lips open to take big lungfuls of air. “Yeah, that’s right.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You stare down at him, the sight of your taller boyfriend on the floor making something evil twist in your belly.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Kneel for me like a good boy and I’ll let you fuck me like a bad one.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please,” Seokmin begs at that, moaning when he closes a hand around his cock. You tsk, grabbing his jaw tightly and squeezing it between your fingers. “Wanna come.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Stop that before I decide to punish you,” you admonish, watching his eyes go wide for what it feels like the hundredth time this night and his hand falls uselessly on the side of his body. “Actually, you know what? Take your clothes off and lay on the bed.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin blinks a few times as if processing the order, walking over to the bed with trembling legs. He looks at you for some seconds, face burning red, and starts to unbutton his social shirt. You keep watching in silence, cooing at the cuteness of your boyfriend, right before the breath is punched right out of your lungs when his toned abs come into view. No matter how many times you see his body, it never fails to make you incredibly horny — the duality between his adorable face and the rest of him leaves you speechless. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You clear your throat when Seokmin covers his chest, embarrassed with being stared so attentively. Not your fault he’s so hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come here, sunshine,” you purr, sitting on the other side of the bed and patting on the space beside you. He nods a little as if telling himself to obey, hopping onto your side and laying on his back after he finishes taking off his shoes. “Take your pants off too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This time Seokmin complies faster. It must hurt a lot, seeing the big bulge down there, and his fingers fumble to undo the button and the zipper so fast you’re surprised he didn’t hurt himself in the process, taking his pants and boxers completely off and throwing somewhere neither of you care. Seokmin’s hard cock slaps against his belly with a soft sound, smearing precum on his lower stomach. It’s an angry shade of red for being denied for so long, the wet mushroom tip making your mouth water as his hips kick upwards with the sheer need of touching it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin looks at you with big, expecting eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Seems like you were so desperate you couldn’t even hold yourself back from jerking off like a horny teenager,” you start, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. Seokmin visibly trembles when you pull away, rummaging through your nightstand’s drawer to find what he knows very well it’s a cockring. “So why don’t you do exactly that for me? And maybe, if you put on a good show, I will let you come.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin stares at the golden thing between your fingers and swallows, taking it when you hand it to him. He looks at the ring like it’s a dessert — you know how he loves being edged even if he won’t admit it, enjoys being denied just so the sensation of his orgasm could be bigger later —, closing a fist around his cock and pumping it a few times before slidding the ring down until it fits tightly at the base. Seokmin’s needy moan drowns your own, sounds like music to your ears, hips thrusting into his hand and he can’t possibly hold himself back.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hgnnn, fuck,” he whines, pace fast where he does up and down movements on his cock. You lick your lips, mouth salivating with the size of Seokmin’s length. He’s so big, the thickness of him being so much it pleasantly hurts to suck him off, and it doesn’t help that he has such beautiful, veiny hands. “F-fuck, feels so, ah, so good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin’s eyes catch yours looking at him like he’s a whole banquet being served just for you, the want and darkness in your eyes surrendering him into a shy mess. He blushes furiously, arm coming up to hide his face from embarrassment and legs pressing together to try and cover his cock — of course it doesn’t hide, Seokmin is too huge and too hard for that.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Don’t do that, sunshine,” you admonish, cooing when he shakes his head. Fingers closing gently around his wrist, you pry his arm away to take a better look at your shy boyfriend. You smile at him, endeared with his cuteness. “Let me see you being beautiful for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yeah?” Seokmin murmurs, and you nod at him, fingers teasing on his nipple. His back arches softly, eyes closing and a whimper escaping through his swollen lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” you echo, too entranced on his noises to possibly think straight. Big breaths; you will your impatience down, wanting to see Seokmin pleasuring himself some more. “Such a big cock. Makes me want to suck you off until my mouth hurts.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The lewd sound Seokmin lets out to that punches a moan straight out of you, fucking up into his own hand as if your words were the ones doing so. He presses a thumb on his cockhead, spreading the precum all over the tip and slipping his fist further down when he concludes it’s wet enough. Seokmin writhes on the bed, unable to contain the hot surge of pleasure coursing through his veins. His free hand flies to his left nipple, pinching it with more strength than you thought he would — it makes his whole body tremble, head sinking back into the soft pillows and fingers letting go of the red bud to squeeze the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, ah, p-please, wanna— W-wanna cum so bad,” Seokmin begs, wants your hands on him. Of course it’s smaller than his own, but you know how to flick your wrists just right to make him feel good, and he needs that right now. If they were your fingers, they would warp perfectly around his cock, even if they didn't close all the way around it as you stroke him. Or maybe you’d tease him a little, as you sometimes do to him when you want to be a little mean. It always pulls the sweetest and loudest whines from Seokmin, you saying that his reactions are cute. “Touch me, please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I am touching you,” you tell him with a pout, referring to the caress you’re doing on his biceps. You chuckle when he makes a frustrated groan at your retort, knowing very well how you’re going to be today.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin doesn't say anything else — knows it won’t make you touch him anytime sooner —, breath hitching and hips shuddering with pleasure. He continues to slowly rub his finger over the flushed head of his cock in teasing little pats. There’s a bit of squirming on the bed, Seokmin trying to grasp on his own memory the sensation of your hands on him, playing with his thickness with a tiny smirk on your lips and it’s like you enjoy seeing him writhe around in desperation. Seokmin opens his eyes to find you with that exact same expression, moaning when he fucks up into his hand again after he fists his cock, panting heavily.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin lets out a soft cry of relief, knows he should be more invested in putting on a show for you than concentrating on his own pleasure, but you love anything he does anyway. Also, it’s not like he has enough patience to hold himself back, has been hard for such a long time his balls may even start to turn purple soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

So he plants his feet on the bed, hips kicking faster, rougher, moans high and wanton as he fucks his own hand. Seokmin watches you intensely, how you look so good with those clothes, lips swollen from the kissing and dark eyes lusting for him. He thinks about your mouth on his cock, how you look so pretty with the girth inside it and holding his hips down when Seokmin thrashes around, too desperate to cum down your throat to stop himself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your imagination works on something similar as you enjoy Seokmin falling apart right beside you. What would be his reaction if you pressed your feet on his cock where he sat across the table almost an hour ago? Would Seokmin keep talking with his friends, disguising the way his breath would turn shaky and unsteady? Would he pretend that his girlfriend isn’t rubbing him off right then and there, regardless of who could hear or see the obscene noises of him moaning or the way you move your feet on him?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You would love if I touched you right there under the table, wouldn’t you?” you purr your thoughts out, watching the pad of his fingers play with his nipples. Seokmin has always been sensitive there, and honestly it turns you on so much. He nods fast at your question as he pinches the bud, rolling it between his thumb and index finger. “But instead of telling me, you went to our room and jerked off to one of my videos without asking for permission.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin turns his face away, cheeks burning at what you’ve said. You weren’t exactly talking about the video when you said permission, but rather him touching himself. He knows very well he needs to ask you before doing so.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin is nearly on the cusp, but knows he won’t trip over and orgasm solely because of the cockring. It makes him almost cry from frustration, hand jerking himself off furiously and it’s always like he’s on edge, unable to come but the pleasure high enough to make him think that he will. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I-I didn’t want to, hmmm, ruin y-your party.” Seokmin admits with a small cry, not wanting you to look at his face right now. He struggles to gather words, mind in a haze from neediness. “‘M sorry— s-sorry, please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Awwww, my sweet baby boy. You’re not ruining anything.” you coo, cradling his face between your hands and turning it towards you, his eyes still not meeting yours even so. You caress his blushed cheek with your thumb, pecking his lips one time and noticing how Seokmin shivers beautifully at the pet name, hand still working fast and rough on his cock. “Honestly, watching you fall apart for me is way better than any party.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin is visibly affected by the affirmation, head sinking further into the pillow and hips twitching where they thrust up into his fist.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So beautiful for me, so stunning, my pretty baby boy.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Fuck, and he can’t take it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Noona,” Seokmin moans out, shame twisting his gut along with pleasure, but it feels so good to see what the name does to you that he suddenly is not so embarrassed anymore. “Please, please t-touch me—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck, Seokmin,” a hand grabs at his jaw, your body trembling with the need sinking deep within your bones. It’s so fast your mind spins and for a moment you think you might pass out with all the blood surging down to your core. “Shit, call me that again, baby. Come on.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“N-Noona— Noona, please, I’ve b-been good,” Seokmin begs, writhing all over the bed, and you think he might start crying very soon if you don’t give him what he wants. “I-I’ve been so good, ah, just— J-just give me what I want, p-please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So fucking good for me,” you moan, getting on top of his thighs and kissing him stupid. Seokmin lies plient underneath you, pace not even faltering. If anything, it became faster, the little kicks of his hips making you bounce on his lap. “Want you inside me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin grabs your waist at that, but you only hold onto his wrists and pin them down beside his head. You move up on his lap until you’re sitting on his hard cock, the wetness of your folds seeping through your panties only serving to remind you how you’re still with your clothes on.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“God, look at you,” there’s a whine, and you’re not sure who lets out, you or him. You move your hips over his cock, like you’re riding it, and the stimulation on your needy cunt makes you squeeze Seokmin’s arms bruisingly tighter. “So desperate… I wanna do really bad things to you.” 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“T-tease me—” Seokmin starts, words being drowned on a choked out moan, and it has you stunt, him saying something like that since he’s usually more quiet in the bedroom. At least when he’s not crying or pleading, of course. “Tease me until I’m begging for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The smile you give him is dirty and dark, nearly a sneer, and he throws his head back. If there’s one thing you love about Seokmin is how he enjoys submitting to you. He feels pleasure on letting go as much as you feel taking over, especially knowing that if he wanted to, he could manhandle you right now, push your face on the bed, pull your ass up and fuck you until you cry. But Seokmin won’t. He doesn’t want to. He loves having you on top of him, teasing him, touching him, ordering him around.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck, such a dirty baby boy,” you roll your hips to emphasize your point, basking in the way he writhes so beautifully underneath you. So ready to be torn apart and pieced back together later. Seokmin presses back, moving himself obscenely. “Stay still.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Reaching to the nightstand again, you move your hand blindly there until you’re able to pull a soft blue silk from the drawer. Seokmin widens his eyes at it, gulping at the implications behind the fabric.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re not obeying me today,” you admonish. To be honest, you would rather get the ropes or the cuffs that are in the wardrobe, but your own impatience and desperation ends up winning and choosing what’s closer. “Touching yourself without my permission, not begging properly, trying to take what you want and now… You can’t even do something as simple as staying still?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“N-Noona, Noona,” is all he’s able to say, body shaking from wanton. Seokmin let’s you pass the silk through his wrists with practiced ease and ties them up together, and then at the headboard. This way his arms are restricted, biceps bulging due to the position. “I’ll be g-good. I’ll be your— y-your good boy, please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you tell him instead, fisting his hair and yanking his head backwards. You kiss his chin, parting away to finally take your clothes off.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin stares all the way through it, dark eyes drinking the sight of your naked body, the faint sound of the music adding to both of your fuels like a dirty soundtrack.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Like what you see?” you tease with a raised eyebrow, smiling at the way his cheeks turn red.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck yes,” Seokmin answers even so, wrists pulling at the silk trapping them as if he’s trying to break free and touch you. The sincerity in his voice makes you blush softly. “Y-you’re so hot, Noona. Can’t believe I have you all for myself.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s something possessive burning at his eyes that has butterflies dancing on your lower stomach. You suck a deep breath, leaning down to capture his lips on yours. It’s far too messy for your own good but you don’t really care, wanting nothing more than to kiss the breath out of Seokmin’s lungs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You succeed, pleasure swelling up in your insides when you have him panting, mind in a haze and chest heaving uncontrollably. He lies there, pliant for you as you lick one of his nipples. The reaction is immediate, Seokmin’s hips kicking up and his hard cock consequently slipping between your chest. A shiver rocks all over his body, your teeth biting at the red bud and sucking at it until his voice gets an octave higher and so, so sweet it makes you moan.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You bring your free hand to thumb at the other nipple, tongue doing circles all over it. Seokmin is desperate, thrashing on the bed as if he’s being electrocuted. You bite harder for good measure, snatching at his waist with a firm grip and pining it back down on the mattress.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So sensitive, my cute baby boy” you appreciate with a hum, making sure to press your chest onto his overwhelmed cock. It’s painted in an angry shade of red now, the veins protruding against the length. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s spit obscenely connecting your mouth to his nipple, and the realization coils heat on your blood and pumps arousal all over.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“People might hear you if you don’t keep it down, you know?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

What you’re not expecting is how he tenses at that, muscles contracting, back arching off of the bed and hips stuttering where it fucked his cock between your chest. Seokmin moans, so loud you instinctively put a hand over his mouth to make him quieter. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

When his body falls limp again, the room is full of silence, other than the sound of his labored breath filling the air after you let go of him. You’re completely quiet though, still processing what just happened, head spinning.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You came,” it wasn’t a question, the scene that just unfolded in front of you being enough confirmation to your suspicions. “You just had a dry orgasm.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your tone was full of amusement and unbelievaness. You can’t quite grasp that fact; it’s not the first time he has used a cockring, but it’s the first time Seokmin actually was able to come with it on and also being barely touched. Laughing incredulously, you trail a finger down his still hard cock, watching him squirm violently underneath you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-wait, Noona, I—” his words get cut off by his own moan when you take the cockring off, throwing it somewhere in the room as you hurry to fetch yet another thing from your nightstand. “Ah, f-fuck, I j-just came, N-No— Noona—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You close a fist on him after pouring lube on his cock, watching in pure ecstasy the look of bliss turn into one of frustration. You feel Seokmin’s body twitch to the touch of your hand and react heavily as you keep going, with no remorse, slicking his cock up and flicking your wrist faster and faster.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You know what to say if you want me to stop,” you tell him. It’s overwhelming, really, but nothing could ever top the sensation of your fingers around him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It makes Seokmin’s brain fuzzy, and it’s too much, his cock already sensible from his recent orgasm, but at the same time he wants to squirm away, he feels the mind numbing pleasure sink deep within his bones. Seokmin moans louder, pulling at the fabric binding his wrists in place, and shaking violently on the bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Fuck! Noona… f-fuck… ahh—” he pleads, swollen lips trembling, abs contracting and relaxing, the blushing red running all the way down to his chest, and legs kicking when he tries to get out of your grip because it feels so damn torturously good. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You take it all in, the burn of arousal lighting a flame on your lower stomach. All mine. You lick at your bottom lip, letting out a soft whine as Seokmin whimpers high in his throat, his hips moving, back arching, head thrown back — beautiful and yours.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want me to stop, sunshine? Then say your safeword,” Seokmin groans at your remark, feeling tears well up in his eyes, body writhing out of control. He moans again, shaking his head a no as he humps his hips up into your hand.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“A-ah! Ah! Noona… ah! Hgnnn, Noona, p-please…” he begs, hands trembling and he actually thinks he might go crazy soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Dirty boy, had a dry orgasm even with a cockring just from thinking people might hear you,” you say, tone soft and gentle despite your ministrations. “Should have tied you up there, on the chair, and overstimulated you in front of everyone else.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You press a thumb on his cockhead, so hard you see a tear finally run down his cheek. Seokmin looks beautiful like this. So beautiful.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Almost came earlier from being caught jerking off too,” you add, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. “My sunshine is a little bit of an exhibitionist, isn’t he?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The fight has already left him, leaving Seokmin a stuttering mess. He only moans and shakes his head and pleads and you actually feel a little bad for the cry he breathes out when you let go of his cock. It’s short livid though, the hurry to rearrange yourself and sit on his lap making you almost fall on him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin doesn’t comment on your desperation though, doesn’t even have the strength to, and watches you line him up against your soaking cunt like you’ll die if you don’t get to ride him until sunset, the party long forgotten.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Need you inside, need you,” you moan as you sink on his cock. Today morning you fucked, Seokmin hugging you and thrusting inside you lazily when he was spooning you just after you woke up, but it still feels almost like too much, the stretch of his cock splitting you open leaving you gaping. “So damn big.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You open your eyes — don’t even know when you closed them — finding the prettiest view you could ever have. Seokmin’s fingers turned white from how hard he’s gripping the fabric around his wrists, and you think for a second that he might break the headboard, if the way he’s pulling at the silk is anything to go bye. The sweat goldens his skin, a gorgeous contrast with the redness tinting his face, neck and the beginning of his chest. And it’s stunning, really, his eyebrows frowned from pleasure, tears in the corner of his eyes and lips swollen from all the rough kissing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There is no better canvas to paint a ruined landscape than Lee Seokmin.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gasps, throwing his head back when you lift yourself up until only the tip of his cock is inside, and slam yourself back down, pelvis flush against Seokmin’s. You fall in a comfortable rhythm from there on; riding him like a pro, making sure to clench as tight as you can just to see him sob and plead and beg for whatever it is that you’re in the mood or willing to give him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“G-god— I l-lo—” he tries, struggling to get words out with the way he’s bouncing on the bed with the force of your hips fucking down of his cock. “I love— I love y-you, N-Noona, Noona, fuck—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Seokmin,” you moan, holding his face between your hands. It’s barely a kiss when you lean in to smash your lips on his, more like a moment in which your breath mingles with his and you both become one.  “Seok-ah, Seokminnie, sunshine— you sound so, so pretty and sweet, my beautiful baby boy. I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“U-untie, please,” Seokmin cries out, pulling harder at the restraints. “Wanna t-tou— ah, touch you, please, I have— h-have been so good—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re always good, baby,” you reassure him, reaching out with fumbling fingers to undo the knot on his wrists. “Come on, sunshine. Fuck me as hard as you can.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your brain can’t even process what happens as soon as he’s free; there are big hands on your hips, Seokmin planting his feet on the bed and fucking up inside you so hard you’re not able to support yourself up, body falling limp on top of his. He’s moaning by your ear now, so high and affected, and you think you can actually feel the spit running down from the corner of his mouth and sticking to your shoulder.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“S-shit, shit, Seokmin,” you whimper, louder than you ever had this night, can’t even rock your hips back because Seokmin is holding you tight and pulling you down on his cock, pace brutal and unrelenting. “You’re s-so desperate, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wanna cum, w-wanna cum,” he keeps saying, burying his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You feel his lips there, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting at it in a weak attempt to muffle his moans. Seokmin has always been the most vocal between the two of you, but you know it’s useless at this point, the people in your house probably know what is going on by now. “P-please, please, Noona, Noona— Want— N-need—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Before you can even answer him, the chant of “Noona, Noona, Noona” leaving his lips like a prayer has your orgasm hitting you suddenly. Your whole body tenses, muscles contracting tightly as the mind numbing sensation washes all over you, and you don’t know how much time you spend coming but when you come back to yourself Seokmin is still fucking you like it’s the last thing he will ever do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You put a trembling hand on his chest and use the other free one to grab at his wrist, signaling for him to stop. At that, Seokmin starts crying. Like really crying.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“N-no— Let m-me come, let me— L-let me come, please, please, please,” he begs, and you coo at him. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you peck his lips gently, wiping the cascading tears with your thumbs. “I want you to come on my face. Can you do that for me, hm, sunshine?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin stares at you with big wide eyes and you think you might die from how cute he is. He nods what it seems like a hundred times.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Words,” you remind him with a soft, calm voice, and smile when he answers a meek yes, please. “Good boy.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin blushes, sniffing a little and lifting his upper body up to have a better view of your lips descending on his cock. You kiss the tip one time, giving it a kittenish lick, and suckle at it hard enough to prove the salty taste of precum, not wanting to tease him more since he has been so good. Seokmin shivers, hips contorting on the bed, and you feel pride swell inside you when you realize he’s trying to stay still. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You give his thigh a gentle pat, licking at the underside of his cock and bobbing your head a few times. You grab at the base of his length, slaps it on your tongue and look up at Seokmin. A small part of you gets embarrassed with the way he’s watching you so intently, but it’s quickly replaced with a burning need to see him coming.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“G-gonna cum, cum, I-I’m— I’m coming, shit, fuck, hgnnn, N-Noona—” you hum at his cries, the last warning you give him before reaching up and taking one of his nipples between your fingers; you twist it as hard as you can, and then he’s coming.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Seokmin moans, more like screams, and he arches forward, fingers flying to grab your hair so hard it hurts a little. There’s cum shooting out of his cock, your hands helping him out as the white ribbons fly across your face. Most of it lands on your mouth, some on your lashes and cheeks, some on his thighs and abs, and some even end up hitting your hair.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The thing is that Seokmin doesn’t stop coming. His hips keep twitching, cock slipping and he thrusts on your face, unable to keep himself still as he rides his orgasm. After what seems like a good few minutes of him coming, Seokmin falls limp on the bed, his eyes closed, chest heaving with his labored breath, and looking completely fucked out.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re quick to kiss him, his tongue pushing against yours when he tastes the leftover of his orgasm. His hips kick miserably, a little bit of come sliding down his softening cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Holy shit,” is what he says after a few minutes of silence, laughing weekly. You follow Seokmin, laying down beside him as you do so. “I think that was the best orgasm of my life.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I think so too,” you agree, Seokmin moving his body to lay on his side and take a better look at you. He brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, his heart eyes making butterflies dance on your stomach. The fact that he’s looking at you like that even so you’re dirty with come, sweat and possibly spit makes you want to marry him. “So, you have an exhibitionism kink.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The affirmation seems to have caught him off guard, his cheeks warming up adorably as he coughs. You giggle when Seokmin tries to turn his back on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I hate you,” he mumbles with a pout.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nah, you don’t,” you dismiss, and you’re right, he doesn’t. He could never. “Maybe we should try that out later?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Try what?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Me tying you up in a chair and making you come in front of everyo—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up!” Seokmin laughs and yells at the same time, hitting a pillow on you. You just grab it and throw it somewhere in the room. “You’re dirty.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So is you,” you add with a smile. Seokmin turns around and pulls you by the waist.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” he admits, hugging you tightly. It should be disgusting considering both of your conditions, but it only feels right. “Only dirty for you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You scoff, mortified.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Now you shut up,” you swat at his — incredibly big and hot — arm, his giggles making all types of things to your heart. “Fucking sap.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmm hmm,” Seokmin hums, and looks at you like that again. Full of love and respect and content, and there’s no better feeling than this. Together. With him. “A complete sap.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[starsinmylatte]

Tease (2/2)

Our beloved reader was fed up with the lack of attention from a certain Grand Admiral. To force his hand, she decided to send some pictures to tempt him while he was away, but things didn't quite go as they were planned. Now, we see the aftermath of those events.

Tease (1/2) link here in case you haven't read it!!

Pairing: Grand Admiral Thrawn x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only) Minors DNI

Tags/warnings (for part 1): lingerie, m@sturbation, dom/sub relationship, y'all this is filth, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex (please practice safe sex irl), authority kink

Word count: 4k (I got a little... ok, a lot... carried away)

bat in’a- beautiful one

ch'eo ch'itiseb- my sweet

ch’eo vir- my dear

cseo cssah bat- so very beautiful

cseo ch’itrico- so hungry

cseo tsaco- so tight

You had known that you were in trouble, but you realized the true extent of how completely and utterly kriffed you were on the morning Thrawn returned to the Chimaera.

Clue number one: he didn’t spare you as much as a single glance when he entered the bridge. Usually, Thrawn would make a point to have at least one small moment of inconspicuous eye contact as a greeting, but not today. Today he didn’t spare so much as a glance in your general direction.

The second clue was far more direct; a simple note sent through the encrypted channel.

Wear it tonight.

Some small part of you hoped the video would finally push the calm, distinguished Grand Admiral over the edge. He was always a generous lover, that being somewhat of a massive understatement, but you could tell he was holding something back. During your most intimate moments, you could see it. Something sharp, dark, and glittering rose to the surface, and Thrawn pushed it away every time.

What would Thrawn be like if he fully let go? That thought sent delicious shivers down your spine, and his final audio message played on repeat in your head.

“Ch’eo ch’itiseb, you know you really shouldn’t tease me like this.”

Thrawn’s voice was normally a seductive purr, but that audio message…. It embodied the dark edge of him you had been longing to experience.

You felt your core clench as you desperately tried to re-focus on the screen in front of you, but an all-too-familiar presence suddenly appeared behind you. All of your racing thoughts screeched to a halt as that same smooth voice you were fantasizing about was now whispering in your ear. “Bat in’a….”

Thrawn’s warm breath was caressing your neck, raising goosebumps, and sending a chill down your spine. Your breath hitched almost imperceptively as he continued, “I see your gift fit you well; it certainly does seem like you enjoyed it.”

Your lover’s reflection was showcased on the darkened computer screen you were so intently studying. His eyes were half-lidded and blazing with barely contained desire. The knowledge that all the bridge officers were obliviously going about their duties while the most powerful man on the ship was leaned over and whispering sinful things in your ear was almost too much to handle. You had no choice but to blush and avert your gaze so you could keep some shreds of your dignity intact.

“Y… Yes, Grand Admiral. I did.” You may have been flustered, but you were feeling coy enough to tease him slightly. A “yes, sir” would have been sufficient, but you knew full well what Thrawn felt when you called him by his full title.

As if on cue, a growl so quiet and low you barely heard it emanated from the man behind you. Thrawn’s usual soft tone sharpened; the mysterious darkness resurfaced, and his perfect Imperial presentation cracked in half. The accent he worked so hard to conceal, the same one you loved to tease out of him, now marred his words. “Careful, Commander, if you want to be able to walk tomorrow, I suggest you close that pretty little mouth.”

Your mouth shut so fast on reflex that your teeth clacked together. His tone was utterly predatory; Thrawn, usually so prim and composed, sounded like he was moments away from ordering everyone off the bridge so he could fuck you now. But, stars, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t fantasizing about it now.

Your naked body flushed with desire, pressed up against the icy cold transparisteel of the viewport, and presented to the galaxy by your lover. Thrawn commanding your body as masterfully as he does his flagship, pushing you right up to the edge of completion before withdrawing, edging you over and over again until you can barely stand on your own. His muscular body pinning you in place against the wall, hell-bent on making you rely only on him for support, as he fucks you mercilessly from behind. Thrawn’s thick, ridged cock splitting you open and hitting spots so deep you see new stars appear in the galaxy with every thrust. The curved transparisteel to your side showing a perfect reflection of your bodies intertwining as Thrawn pulls your head aside to kiss and nip at your neck……..

Your blush turned at least three shades deeper as you shoved the thoughts aside. Thank the stars that most of the officers were gathered around a terminal on the other side of the bridge, or they would undoubtedly know exactly what was occurring between the Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy and his Commander.

Like flipping a switch, Thrawn’s cool, Imperial tone resurfaced in an instant. “Apologies, ch’eo ch’itiseb, I have distracted you from your duties for too long.

Wordlessly, you watched him straighten, pick an invisible speck of lint off his already pristine jacket, and resume his usual impassive expression. The blue bastard had the nerve to walk away and leave you flustered in the middle of the command bridge as if nothing had even happened. As he walked away, you saw the barest hint of a smirk ghost across his face. He wasn’t sorry at all.

-----------

The rest of the day crawled by. Thrawn obviously had some plan for the evening, but not knowing the details meant the suspense was absolutely eating you alive. You managed to slog through the rest of your day without any major inconveniences, but as soon as it ended, you nearly ran to your quarters to prepare.

After showering and letting your hair dry, you turned your attention to what you would wear. Of course, Thrawn’s request that you wear the lacy, red set was a given, but you couldn’t exactly walk down the hallways of the Chimaera in that. You decided that it would be best for your trip to Thrawn’s office to seem like it was purely one of the extra duties you were finishing. You put on one of your looser fitting uniforms, hoping to hide the lines of the lingerie, and tied your hair back into its usual bun before leaving.

When you finally arrived at Thrawn’s office, the door slid open with a cool hiss of hydraulics as soon as you reached for your comm. You laughed softly to yourself. Well, he was definitely anticipating my arrival.

As you stepped through the door, you saw Thrawn’s back as he leaned over his desk. He seemed to be watching something quite intently, and as you kept walking forward, you began to hear hints of quiet audio. Before you reached his side, Thrawn paused what he was watching and turned his head to acknowledge you. A dangerous smile played across his lips, “Commander, I was hoping you’d be here soon. You are just in time for my favorite part.”

You raised an eyebrow and shot him a questioning glance, “What… what do you mean?”

His smile widened enough to show off his pointed teeth, “I do believe you should know exactly what I’m referring to because you played a starring role in it, ch'eo ch'itiseb.”

At that moment, you felt your soul leave your body. Kriffing sith hells, he saved it.

You didn’t think it was possible for his smug smile to get any bigger, but it did. “Oh, bat in’a, of course, I would save something so… artfully done.”

Thrawn stepped aside, and you were greeted by a projection of your video displayed between the other holos of priceless artwork on his desk. It was stopped at a very particular moment; you reclined on his bed with your legs spread open. One hand rested on your thigh, and the other was settled on your chest.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, Thrawn hit a button, and the video continued to play. Breathlessly, you watched as your head lolled to the side, and Thrawn’s name left your lips in a broken moan. One of your hands pushed the lace aside to slip two fingers deep inside your cunt, and the other rolled a peaked nipple between your fingers.

A pang of lust immediately overcame any embarrassment you felt in the moment as you realized exactly what Thrawn must’ve felt when watching the video. Even though you had intended for the circumstance to be slightly different, it must’ve absolutely killed him to be away from you for that night and the several days following it.

Before you could react, Thrawn had closed the remaining distance and pinned your back against the wall. He leaned in to lavish his attention on the shell of your ear and whispered, “Naughty little thing….. teasing a Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy like that. I could’ve canceled the trip to come back and fuck you, but then I would have been giving in. You obviously need to learn a lesson in patience.”

One of his powerful hands pulled your wrists above your head and roughly pinned them to the wall. A gasp fell from your open lips and your legs involuntarily clenched together as your cunt throbbed with desire. Watching the video had already lit a familiar fire in you, but now you could feel your arousal beginning to soak the thin, lacy material of your panties. Thrawn’s already wicked smile turned feral, and he forced his thigh between your legs. He grabbed your jaw and tilted your face up to look at him.

“Ch'eo ch'itiseb,” he cooed, “you don’t get any relief quite yet. You were so eager to tease me with that video, but now it’s my turn. Tonight, I get to take my time with you.”

As if to prove his point, Thrawn flexed and shifted his muscular thigh, so a hard ridge of muscle lined up perfectly with your clit. “It’s what you deserve, after all, for trying to tease me. You looked drunk with your own imagined power, writhing in my bed and begging for me…..”

All you could do was whimper at his sinful words as he tilted your face to the side again. You let out a low groan as Thrawn pulled the collar of your uniform aside and lavished all of his attention at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, taking turns sucking and kissing until he had left a noticeable mark. He hummed in approval at his work before trailing a line of kisses up the column of your neck, only to immediately double back and follow the line with his tongue.

Thrawn was the definition of commanding as he gazed down on you, already keening from his touch. He clicked his tongue in a mockingly disapproving manner as he moved his hand to trace the outline of the hickey. “Such a needy little whore for me. Maybe I should mark you up, so everyone knows you’re taken.”

He trailed a long, graceful finger up the side of your neck as if deciding exactly where to claim you next before stopping at the tender pulse point below your jaw. “I think here, to start.”

Another breathless whimper left your mouth as you tried to grind against his thigh, searching desperately for any purchase you could find, but Thrawn just pushed you harder into the wall, leaving you unable to move at all. “A visible mark on a pretty thing like you will have the whole ship wondering who owns this precious cunt.”

Thrawn paused to capture your lips in an all-consuming kiss that further ignited the flame burning deep in your core. By now, your panties were completely soaked through; arousal was beginning to trail down your leg, and your lover hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet.

The barest hint of the friction you were desperate for and his sinful words made you melt further into his embrace as you made another futile attempt to grind against his thigh. “P-Please… Thrawn... I need you to touch me. Take my clothes off. Anything.”

His silken voice was infuriatingly smooth, and it was apparent Thrawn was enjoying his revenge. “Well, bat in’a, you begged so sweetly for me, and now here I am. You’re going to get everything you asked for, but I decide how much you get and when to give it. Maybe my little dove will know better than to tease me after her own lesson in patience is completed.”

Thrawn swiftly stepped backward, and your knees crumpled at the sudden lack of support. He reached out and gracefully caught you; one of his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt the other behind your knees. Before you even fully realized it, your lover had quite literally swept you off your feet and was carrying you towards his private quarters. Thrawn’s burning eyes met your lust-addled gaze, and his smug smile returned, “Already weak at the knees for me, ch’eo vir?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but at that moment, your back hit the silken black sheets of his bed. If the unexpected fall hadn’t taken your breath away, the sight of Thrawn’s powerful form leaning over you absolutely would’ve. Even fully clothed, you could see the hard lines of his muscles shift and move beneath his uniform. His arousal was becoming more apparent by the second as his thick cock strained against the fabric of his pants. You wanted to feel its heavy weight in your mouth so badly you had to bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan.

Thrawn curled his long fingers beneath your chin and traced his thumb over your plush lips, “Open your pretty little mouth for me; I want to hear every single sweet sound you make tonight.”

When you complied, he slipped the calloused digit inside to rest on top of your tongue. You met his gaze again as you licked up the underside of his thumb before briefly closing your mouth to suck on it.

Thrawn let out a groan that trailed off into a low growl. Removing his thumb, he leaned down for another kiss. The first brush of his lips was almost reverent in its gentleness, but that soon gave way to searing passion. Thrawn’s hunger for you seemed to grow as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, seeking permission to deepen your embrace. You yielded to him completely, hands reaching to cup Thrawn’s face as his soft, breathy moans mixed with your own until he pulled away.

“Thrawn…..” you protested at the sudden loss of contact.

“You would do well to remember that tonight is about you learning patience,” he admonished as his fingers sought the closure of your uniform. “For now, I wish to see you.”

The air in his bedroom seemed to fill with electricity as he slowly undid your uniform jacket. Every so often, his fingers would barely graze your skin as they worked away at the fastenings, raising goosebumps and sending a thrill down your spine at the anticipation of each touch.

As soon as the last clasp fell open, Thrawn leaned back to admire you. “Look at you….” his tone of voice was reverent as he trailed his fingers across your décolletage, “cseo cssah bat.”

You arched into his touch, encouraging him to remove the rest of your uniform. Thrawn tossed the clothing unceremoniously to the side and pulled the pins from your hair, letting it fall and frame your face. One of his hands reached down to tangle itself in your hair. “You look just like you did in the video,” he cooed, “tell me, are you as hungry for my touch now?”

“Yesyes, please, Thrawn. Please touch me,” you pleaded.

His red eyes blazed at the desire in your voice, “remove my clothes, then.”

You eagerly started to unfasten his white uniform shirt, drawing a short chuckle from the normally reserved Chiss. “Cseo ch’itrico...”

Each exposed inch of Thrawn’s beautiful skin spurred the movement of your hands until his jacket lay open and his muscular chest was on full display. Now, it was finally your turn to touch him. Your fingers trailed hungrily down the center of his chest over hard lines of muscle and old scars to hook into the waistband of his pants. Finally, he shrugged the jacket off and threw it to the side to join the growing pile of clothes.

In one fluid motion, Thrawn pulled you up and into his lap. Being this close to him was absolutely intoxicating; the chill of his quarters combined with the warmth of his body and his deep, masculine scent was enough to send your head reeling. His hands continued their previous mission, trailing over your body, studying you as he would any of the priceless art pieces he was so fond of. They paid special attention to your breasts, rubbing your peaked nipples through the fabric. You couldn’t help but whimper at the delicious sensation, “mmmmhThrawn…..”

“Does that feel good?” he murmured into your ear before rolling his hips upwards, driving his erection against your core. You cried out in pleasure as he leaned forward to press a searing kiss on the soft swell of your breast. Your hands sought purchase in his hair as he bit the tender spot before soothing the sting with his tongue, leaving yet another mark on you.

Thrawn’s hand trailed down to drag two fingers over your clothed cunt, growling in approval as he discovered the thin garment was already completely soaked. He moved the strip of lace aside and repeated the movement before circling your clit, drawing more desperate cries from you. All the teasing combined with the anticipation from earlier already had you nearing your first orgasm. Then, without warning, Thrawn thrust two fingers deep inside, and you shattered with his name on your lips.

He let out his own moan at the sensation of your cunt milking his fingers as he fucked you through your orgasm. “Needy little thing, how many times are you going to cum for me tonight?”

Thrawn held his fingers up for you to see. Stars, your arousal was dripping down them. “Commander, you made a mess. It’s only proper you should clean up after yourself.” The mock-disapproval was back in his voice as he pressed them to your lips.

Your cheeks flushed at his words as you took the fingers into your mouth and sucked them clean. Thrawn leaned in for another kiss, “Don’t worry, I’ll have my own taste soon enough.”

He laid you back down and moved to kneel at the base of the bed, pulling your hips to the edge. You slid easily through the silken sheets, grasping them for stability as you felt Thrawn’s hot breath on the inside of your thigh. Once again, he languidly pressed open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin before sucking deep bruises into the tender flesh, murmuring quiet praises in Cheunh between each one. The kisses trailed higher and higher until his mouth was pressed intently against your soaked core.

He gently sucked at your clit before sliding his tongue in to taste you. Your grip on the sheets tightened as he devoured you like a starving man, drinking you in and bring you closer and closer to ruin as he held your hips in an iron grip. You ground against his mouth, desperately chasing your second orgasm as he returned to sucking your clit. He let out a low growl of approval at your desperation, and the vibrating sensation on his lips pushed you screaming over the edge.

Again, Thrawn fucked you through your orgasm before raising his face to look you in the eyes. The calm, composed Grand Admiral was long gone. Pieces of his dark hair had fallen into his face, which shined with your arousal. His red eyes were half-lidded but smoldering with unrestrained lust. “You’ll give me another,” he demanded, returning his attention to your cunt.

For the second time that night, he pushed two fingers deep inside, seeking the spongy spot that would turn you into even more of an incoherent mess. You whined at the feeling of overstimulation, but you were just as hungry for him as he was for you. Thrawn moved back up to ravish your neck with more kisses while he slipped a third finger inside. The wet sounds they made would have been deeply embarrassing to you under any other circumstance, but the noises only encouraged your lover. “Tell me, ch’eo ch’itiseb, were you this wet when it was your own fingers inside of you?”

He gave a particularly rough thrust and grinned wickedly, “I don’t recall your cunt being this musical in the video.”

You were in such a blissful, fucked-out state that it was nearly impossible to form any words, but somehow you managed to speak, “Thrawnnnnn…. pleasepleaseplease…... need you inside me now.”

It was altogether too much. You came hard, soaking the sheets underneath you and drawing a pleased growl from Thrawn.

This time, he withdrew his fingers immediately, leaving your cunt spasming in his absence. Again, you protested weakly, but the sight of him finally removing his pants immediately stopped your complaints. It was a sight you’d never tire of, one you could appreciate even when you were this far gone. Thrawn was breathtaking; his lithe, muscular body had been sculpted from a lifetime of training and discipline. His cock was equally beautiful, large and thick, with pronounced ridges running along the side. He looked like a figure from one of his paintings as he walked towards you, a god of war hell-bent on making you his greatest conquest.

All need for words was long gone as he returned to the bed. Thrawn was as desperate as you; he ripped through the thin, lacy material in his way and trailed his cock along your slit, coating it with your combined arousal. He entered you in one swift movement, and the word fell away. You felt the delicious stretch of him, teasing the line between pleasure and pain as he began to fuck you at a relentless pace. With each snap of hips, yours rose to match the pace, and you saw stars. Thrawn tangled his hands in your hair and pulled you into an all-consuming kiss. He greedily captured each moan, every sigh that fell from your lips. Your fourth orgasm was quickly on the way, and you could tell that your lover wasn’t far behind.

All of the earlier teasings seemed to have affected him as much as they affected you. Thrawn pulled your hips upwards, and the new angle sent him deeper and deeper with each thrust. You felt this tip of his cock hit so incredibly far inside that it sent you reeling as the sound of your lovemaking filled the room. The lingering pleasures from all your previous orgasms were piling on top of each other, driving you closer and closer to a final climax that you were sure would leave you unable to walk tomorrow. Thrawn locked his gaze with yours, watching tears of pleasure run down your face. “So… close….. I can feel you, cseo tsaco -so tight- around me. Cum for me once more,” he commanded with the barest hint of desperation in his voice.

That was all the encouragement you needed before the most intense orgasm of your entire life swept over you. You bit down hard on the juncture of Thrawn’s neck and shoulder to keep from screaming his name loudly enough to tell the entire crew of the Chimaera exactly what was happening. He exhaled sharply as he continued to ride out your orgasm, but the feeling of your cunt greedily clenching around his cock was too much. Thrawn came with a groan, coating your walls with his seed as his pace slowed to a halt.

Your spent bodies fell on the bed together in the afterglow. Thrawn remained inside of you, and you enjoyed the closeness as you felt him soften. He pulled you into a tight embrace, placing a tender kiss on your temple as he softly smiled. “I missed you too, bat in’a.”

Tagging some friends: @pala-din-djarin @handbaskethell @mittheresabosen @pretty-with-andorian-shingles @bluecynadi @ele-millennial-weirdo @mysticalgalaxysalad @rebelpitstop @jedi-mando @tibbietibbs @rexsjaigeyes @anna-the-godkiller @erinsusername @myevilmouse

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Epilogue

Summary: You and Ransom attend the launch of his book and the cover closes on your story.

Warnings: Bad language, Mature (NSFW, 18+) NON-CON situations, kidnap, violence. Blood. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER…READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED…YOU HAVE BEENWARNED.

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: The end! I can’t believe all this span from @jtargaryen18​’s Halloween Challenge last year. I hope you have enjoyed his as much as I have.

Word Count: 3.6k

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK series so don’t @me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18 get off my blog!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 7

 The town car and it's driver took you to whatever swanky hotel Ransom and his publishers had decided upon, you not caring the slightest inwardly, outwardly only half paying attention. You glanced out the window watching the lights of downtown pass by as your husband of merely three weeks held your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. 

It was a warm July evening, the two of you dressed to the nines in formal attire. Ransom had insisted the launch be an invite only, formal event. Therefore, he was dressed in a two-piece suit, black of course, with a crisp white button down, silken black tie, and you, you looked like an ice queen's slutty sister. The powder blue silk dress you wore tied together with thin straps on each shoulder, your feet already hurting in your nude six inch sandals. Your free hand tapped a neatly manicured finger over your clutch that matched your shoes. A delicate white gold and diamond tennis bracelet adorned your wrist whilst the necklace you'd been gifted at Christmas hung around your neck. You wore your hair the way he said he loved it, in a ponytail full of waves and wisps framing your face.

After the incident on Valentine’s Day, you’d spent another two weeks in the confines of the basement. All luxuries removed and you were used and abused in exactly the way you had been when Ransom had first taken you, until he’d once more sucked the fight out of you. Only this time you didn’t have the strength to find it again. 

You played the part you’d been cast in his sick little fantasy and became totally passive to his whims. You let him fuck you which, in all honesty, wasn’t an entirely unpleasant situation as he knew his way around your body and it felt good. You had given up denying it, and for the moments he was teasing those carnal reactions out of you, you escaped, let yourself imagine you were with someone who you wanted. And by keeping him sweet, you fooled him into thinking you were content. And things settled down, you had that halfway to normal life that you’d achieved before you discovered his manuscript.

But it was bullshit. A means to an end. And you deserved a fucking Oscar.

He’d had the audacity to propose to you, too. In a restaurant. Surrounded by people. He asked you the question, like you had a fucking choice.

Angry, desperate tears had filled your eyes as you’d simply gaped at him, tears the deluded cunt took for you being overwhelmed with happiness. With a smile he slipped the gaudily large diamond on your finger, sealing your fate.

It weighed as heavy on your hand as the grief for your lost life, and the despair at your situation did in your heart.

You’d had a small wedding. Attended simply by your parents and sister. He sent an invite to his mother and father but they didn’t show up. Your dad walked you down the aisle and as you walked towards the man you hated with every breath in your body, your father kissed your cheek and asked you if you were sure you wanted to do this. And no, of course you didn’t, but what could you do?

There was no way out. 

“You look as gorgeous tonight as you did on our wedding day.” Ransom’s voice slightly startled you and you turned to face him. 

You smiled at him, the smile you knew he wanted to see, as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before doing the same to your hand, his lips ghosted over the top of the obscene rock and matching band on your finger which caught the lights of the city, sparkling with all the ferocity of a supernova.

Before you needed to reply with some half assed compliment back, the town car stopped as the driver got out and opened Ransom's door.

"Wait here," he instructed and walked around with the driver on the other side, escorting you out the minute your own door opened.

Flashbulbs fired off in your eyes, no doubt the press there for some absolutely ridiculous notion that this book was anything but its true nature of terror and disgust.

Ransom’s hand pressed into the base of your back as he guided you along in front of him, various members of the press calling his name, and you heard the excited shouts from some as they spotted the bands on both yours and Ransom’s hands, positively shrieking as they asked when you’d gotten married. 

The headlines flashed in your mind now, 'Grandson of the Great Harlan Thrombey Releases First Suspense Novel'. 'One of Boston's Most Notorious and Eligible Bachelors is Strictly Off The Market' . 'Trust Fund Playboy Sinks His Bunny'. 

It made you want to puke. 

In fact, as the press line faded and you stepped foot into the lobby, you swallowed back the bile forcing its way up. A tray with champagne flutes passed you by and you immediately snagged one.

When Ransom had been distracted for a brief moment, you quickly glanced around and swallowed back the entire flute of the bubbly drink. Delightfully enjoying the brief taste and quick head rush it gave you.

The further you walked into the event, his hand still against your bare back, the louder it grew and the more trays of champagne and appetizers were floating by.

As typical, the two of you were fashionably late so, you had little chance to take part in any nibble or further, a drink, because the supposed "man of the hour", more like terror of life, was due to give a speech.

His agent pulled the two of you aside and made mention that it was time for Ransom to greet his guests. He pressed a sickening sweet kiss to your lips and confidently took to the small podium atop a small stage nearby.

“First and foremost, thank you to everyone who came out tonight. But more importantly, thank you to my beautiful wife, without you Sweetheart, this wouldn't be possible.”

The smile he flashed you was loaded with meaning as the pair of you looked at one another, his eyes shining with the depraved private understanding you shared. 

And you hated him then just about as much as you ever had.

Excited muttering spread around the room as he had knowingly referred to you as his wife. It was the first time he’d announced your marriage to the world but, as he smiled and held his hands up, nodding smugly and confirming whatever people were asking him, you felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of nausea. To everyone else it was a sweet dedication, to you it was a sickening truth. This book was based on what he’d done to you. What he was saying was literal truth. 

And the fact that the people currently applauding whatever he had said would never realise the true nature of those words on the pages of his book made you want to vomit in your handbag.

Applause rang around the room and you realised everyone was turned in your direction. Drawing your shoulders back you stood tall and once more fixed that fake smile on your face before Ransom cleared his throat and began to speak again.

But you didn't listen, you drowned him out, the sound of his voice distant and murky like Charlie Brown's teacher. You allowed you mind to think of anything but the present, other than the fact that these people were in unknowing full support of the hell you'd been through the last nine months.

Eventually a loud, rapturous applause signalled the end of his speech and he stepped back, smiling and then turned to the man from his publishers who shook his hand furiously, before the pair of them posed for photos.

That was when he beckoned you to him, looking at you in such a way that made your skin crawl and your teeth seethe with each breath. This bastard expected a photo op from you above all this, commemorating this disaster.

On autopilot you headed towards him, indifference obedience now your specialty and his arm curled possessively round your waist, fingers splaying on your hip. You posed and smiled as the flashes went off, but as you stole a glance at the large, ornate clock on the wall, you suddenly felt your head beginning to swim.

Seeing a convenient way out of this bullshit, you made sure to falter just a little, placing your hand to your chest. It caused Ransom's attention to turn to you.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

“I’m feeling a little light headed and warm.” You looked up at him. “Could we maybe get some air?”

"Sure, yeah," he looked to his agent and they nodded towards a side door in the room.

His arm still round you, playing the doting husband, he led you towards it and opened it with a flourish, allowing you to step out in front of him. 

You emerged into the alley at the side of the building and took a huge gulp of air, steadying yourself.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

You were warm, flushed, your skin tingling as the now cooling air hit your slightly damp skin, your nipples perking at the temperature change were visible through the silk dress, and you didn’t miss the heated glance he gave them as you spoke. "I, I don't know. I think it's all the commotion."

“You do look a little flushed.” His eyes moved back to yours and he studied you for a moment, his large hands gently cupping your face as he kissed your forehead before his lips pressed to yours. “Wanna take a walk?”

Despite the fact you really couldn’t walk far in the ridiculous shoes you were in, you nodded. Anything to avoid going back in there and listening to all those sycophants kissing his ass.

He took your hand and started walking slowly down the alley. You were mid-way down when a man jumped out from behind the dumpster. You screamed and instinctively Ransom jumped to the side, pulling you slightly behind him.

“Give me the money and the jewellery, no one gets hurt.” The man spoke gruffly and you felt Ransom draw himself up to his full height as he glared at the dirty, dishevelled man, disdain on his face.

“Eat shit.”

“Ransom, just... please give him what he wants.” Your voice trembled as your body shook, your right hand already removing the rings on your left.

“I’d listen to your pretty wife, if I were you.” The man spoke as he reached into his pocket and when he withdrew his hand you swallowed at the unmistakable flash of metal.

“Fuck, Ransom, he’s got a knife!” You clutched his arm. “Please just give it to him!”

"Fuck, no," he started reaching for his phone but the man lunged toward him.

In the melee that followed, you were thrown to the side, your rings clanging to the floor somewhere along with your clutch, your palms and knees scraping painfully on the floor. By the time you’d pushed yourself up, you saw the man scrambling to his feet, Ransom’s watch and wallet in his hand. He turned to look at you and you backed away, stumbling once more to the ground letting out a blood curdling scream as he advanced. He stopped, picked up your rings and your bag, before he turned, bolting up the alley and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight.

"Y/N," the croaking voice came from your husband as he staggered towards you, a deep red seeping through his white dress shirt, his one hand attempting to stave off the bleeding. The other, cradling his phone. But he didn't get more than a few steps as he collapsed nearby. 

"Ransom!" You shrieked and heels be damned, you ran to him, looking around, "help!" 

"Call 9-1-1, Baby," he begged, trying to thrust the phone into your hand and you leaned over him. 

With a jittery hand you swiped over to the emergency call option and hit the first two digits before you glanced around again and hesitated, rising slowly to your feet.

“What...” Ransom’s chest heaved as he looked up at you, his face white with shock as you turned the phone in your hand and shrugged.

“Yeah, you see, I could call for help but...” with that you tossed his phone to the hard ground and crunched it with your stupidly high heel, rotating your foot to make double sure, the glass and metal grinding between the stiletto and the tarmac. “Whoops, looks like it got smashed in the fight.” You gave a little chuckle. “And of course, mine was in my bag which he took. Isn’t that ironic? I mean the first time you permit me to use it for something other than to contact you or my mom, I can’t.” You made a little tutting noise. “Guess I’ll just have to keep yelling and hope someone hears.”

With that you turned and screamed, a frantic yell. “Please, someone help us! Please, he’s been stabbed, call 9-1-1.” You slowly dropped back to a kneel, ignoring the sting of your grazed knees and smirked. “Dammed, I really am good at this acting shit, don’t you think, handsome?”

Ransom coughed a harsh and wet cough. His chest heaving raggedly as he struggled between catching a breath and bleeding out. 

“Y/N...” he spluttered, “you...please...”

"So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” you emphasised the 't' of the last word as you spoke the very same line that he had delivered to you months ago, the threat he had held over you and used to keep you in check whenever you stepped over that line. 

His eyes widened further as the realisation set in, you could see his brain working and it gave you a buzz, a sense of satisfaction to know that he understood this was your doing.

You wanted the last thing this bastard thought about to be how you were responsible for his death. But more so, his narcissistic and sociopathic tendencies be damned, you wanted him to completely understand exactly how it was his fault. 

And given the way he was bleeding and struggling for breath, you didn’t have long.

Another scream for help flew from your mouth as you pressed one hand on top of his which were now both clutched to the wound in his stomach, the other brushing his hair back slightly as you smiled down at him. 

“I told you when you threw me back in the basement that the way you treat people would come back to haunt you.” You gave a little shrug. “And, when you told the homeless guy looking in the bins on collection day a few months back to eat shit and get a job, well, he took it kinda personally. He didn’t even blink when I asked how much it would take to knock you off.”

"You..." choking on blood, "vicious..." choke,

At that you gave another loud hysteric yell for help before you turned your head back to look at him.

“See, once upon a time I thought you’d changed. But here’s the thing, a person like you doesn’t change, Hugh. You’re incapable of love. You take what you want when you want for no reason other than it pleases you.”

Another scream for help, and this time you could hear someone answering and a lot of yells as people started running towards you.

“Well, now I’ve taken your life like you took mine.” You bent down, your forehead pressing to his as you smirked. His arm reached up to grab you, his blood soaked hand curling over your cheek and side of your neck. "And you know what? It feels good."

His palm was warm and slick against your skin and his eyes blazed with anger as his fingers squeezed. You knew he was desperately trying to hurt you but you felt nothing. You smiled, as you placed a soft kiss to his lips, your words whispered as you pulled back ever so slightly. “Karma’s a bitch, and so am I. See you in hell.”

As the fake tears started to pool in your eyes once more, you allowed your lip to tremble for distraught emphasis. Blood was now trickling out of Ransom's mouth, along down his ear and to the tarmac. You pulled back just a little so as to see his eyes. You wanted to watch him choke on his own blood as he took that final breath. You started sputtering words incoherently as you amped up the hysteria, hearing the footfalls now just behind you. 

He didn’t even make it to the hospital. 

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was pronounced dead at 21:05 hours on Friday 17th July where he lay in a pool of his own blood, in that dark alleyway down the side of the hotel.

Leaving you a widow.

And free. 

***10 months later***

It was as simple as it sounded, closing your eyes and pointing to a spot on a map. Your finger ended up on Boulder. 

Colorado was far enough from the last year or so of your life that you could feel comfortable. You'd researched it, finding it to be something worth interest. Affordable. Breath-taking scenery. Incredible life altering activities and quaint little towns. The summers were supposedly warm but rarely did the temperature rise above ninety-five, the winters were supposedly very cold, dry and windy; rarely dropping below six degrees with partly cloudy skies year round.

The months following Ransom’s death had been as draining as humanly possible. The investigation had involved countless interviews before the police and authorities settled for it being a mugging gone wrong. But then there had been the months of wrangling and private law cases his parents had attempted to bring against you to prevent you getting his money, despite the probate law being fairly simple. You were married. He left no will. It was yours by default. 

Eventually, when the Drysdales had exhausted every last option, they were forced to concede and that was when you made the decision to leave, a decision of which your parents were highly encouraging. They practically talked you into this whole thing to begin with. Helping you leave your nightmares behind. Despite them not suspecting anything at first, you weren't blind to the fact that things still had not sat right with them. You knew they had suspected a level coercion, that maybe you'd had a manic episode of mental illness, but you never had divulged the full details and by the time he was gone, they hadn't cared. Your relationship with them had strengthened and healed and that was what you cared about.

Now, you were newly nestled in Boulder with a great condo downtown, a stone’s throw from the historic district that was filled with cliché shops and bars.  Whilst you didn’t need the money, you’d taken a job working in the media department of a private law firm. It was a far cry from your journalist days, but it suited you just fine.

The more distance you put between who you were now and who you had been, the better. 

You were at peace.

The May evening air was temperate as you crossed the street and opened the door to the designated bar in which you were meeting your new group of friends, mostly gathered from work, for a girl's night out. You’d been held up a little in the office so they were already waiting at a table. You waved and gestured to the bar, indicating you were going to get a drink. 

As you sidled up to the wooden counter, you were jolted a little into a man to your right. You turned to apologise and gave a little double take. You recognised him instantly. But you didn’t want to make that obvious and cause him to feel uncomfortable. You knew how it felt, to have everyone looking at you, hushed whispered comments as you went about your business, people trying to figure out if you were who they thought you were.

That was part of the reason you had moved, and you sure as hell weren’t about to subject the man next to you to the same, uncomfortable experiences. 

Recovering quickly, you hastily apologised and he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it.” His Boston accent was evident and you smiled.

“I miss that accent.” 

The man chuckled, his warm blue eyes creasing slightly as he looked at you. “You from Boston, too?”

“Concord.”

“Newton.” He replied, “well, I lived there anyway, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Should I? Know that, I mean?”

He studied you for a moment, and you kept your face as passive as possible. You could tell he knew that you knew, but you gave a shrug none-the-less and he smiled, a gorgeous smile that lit up his entire face, perfect white teeth flashing from beneath an immaculately groomed beard, as he extended his arm towards you.

“Andy Barber.” His fingers gently brushed the back of your knuckles, as you shook his hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Oh, of course.” You smiled back. “One of our attorneys.”

“Our?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m Y/N. I work in the media department. I mean I only started a few weeks ago but...”

“Well, in that case, I’m pleased to meet you, Y/N, and welcome aboard.” His smile didn’t falter as he let go of your hand and gestured to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

You paused for a moment before you took a deep breath.

And nodded.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

******

Sequel: Follow Andy and reader’s story in Consciousness Of Guilt. 

[boldlyvoid]

CONGRATS ON 800, LOVE! IM SO SORRY I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO SUBMIT SOMETHING EARLIER (this is shemarmooresfedora but from another acct because mine has been shadowbanned for some reason)

i’ll do ❤️🤡💄🛏 please and thank you

maybe like spencer invites you to something as his date and you’re both crushing on each other but it’s not official until the reservation only booked one room

I LOVE YOU DORY!!! i am so sorry you're shadowbanned that is so weird? i hope this cheers you up a little! thank you for all the love and support, and for helping me create little Jo in Amoreena <3

cw: flirting, fake married, mutual pining, high school reunions, assault, love confessions, one bed, implied sex, kissing,

1.4K

When he got the invitation in the mail, he thought nothing of it. He left it in the pile on his counter and went off to work the way he always would. He hasn’t been back to his old high school since he was 13, the 15 year reunion was coming up and he was invited.

He wasn’t going to go. He never went to any event unless it was a CalTech alumni event. Because there he was respected, there he was Doctor Spencer Reid, the FBI’s asset and excellent graduate. He was a nobody, a kid and a loser in high school.

“You okay?” Y/N notices he’s quieter than normal, he’s staring off past his desk and she’s worried for him.

“Huh?” He turns to her, “I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” she whispers, “come get a coffee with me down at the kart?”

He nods and stands silently, following her out of the room and away from all their friends, in the elevator she knows he’s more comfortable.

“What’s going on, Spence?”

“My high school reunion is coming up, and I really want to go and prove to them that I’m not a dork anymore…” his voice is low and his eyes are fixated on the floor.

Her face drops, she pulls the emergency button and wraps herself around him. “You have never been a dork, Spencer. You have always been magnificent and they’re too dumb to see that.”

He holds her in return, settling as he rests his chin on her shoulder. She feels nice and warm, her hair smells like apples and her laundry detergent is all over her shirt.

“Would you come back to Vegas with me and pretend to be my girlfriend? Say things like that and make them think I’ve got it all?”

He cant see how much she smiles while they hug, “yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend for the day.”

—

She buys the nicest dress imaginable, they fly out to Vegas together and she’s so excited she forgot to ask for her own room. Or at least that’s what she tells him because she really wanted a chance to sleep with him, in more ways than one.

Even to just cuddle with Spencer Reid would be a gift, so she goes all out to seduce him. She looked impeccable, He was thinking it was her way of helping him show off… he was so clueless she was going to have to be the smart one when it came to getting him to see her as more than a friend. She wanted him, she was going to show him just how good she would be to him if she was his.

Her dress hugs her in all the right places, she wraps an arm around Spencer’s middle and holds him close. They walk in like they own the place, everyone is taking turns looking at them as they walk to the name tag table.

“Hi, Spener Reid,” he smiles, “and my plus one.”

“Hi,” Y/N waved at the woman behind the desk.

“Hello,” she smiles, “here are your name tags, Mr. and Mrs. Reid.”

“Oh we’re—“

“Thank you,” Y/N smiles, she takes the name tags from the woman. “Newlyweds, my rings getting resized, he’s still adjusting to the title.”

“Ah, my husband was the same, called it wedding bell shock,” she smiled, old enough to have a husband with shell-shock as well.

“Can I have a pen?” Y/N asks, “or a marker?”

“Here,” she hands her a sharpie.

Y/N leans onto the table to scratch out the Mr. and replace it with Dr. “He has 3 Ph.D.’s you know? My husband is the smartest man in the FBI.”

“Oh,” she looks shocked, “thank you for your service sir.”

He blushes and nods, “thank you.”

Y/N peels the sticker off and sticks it to Spencer's chest before leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, she gets lipstick on him. She smiles and wipes it off, “there, still cute.”

The rest of the night is much of the same; she hangs off him, telling all the people who used to bully him that she was so madly in love with him, he was super smart and he was so strong and sexy on the job.

She slips away from him to get a drink while he explains how profiling works to his crowd of new fans. She’s filling her cup with punch when a weird, balding man slides up beside her, his hand touching her waist. She looks at him quickly, recognizing his name from the worst childhood story Spencer ever shared with her.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” he tried to hit on her.

She puts her cup down calmly and takes his hand off her, bending his arm behind his back and slamming him face-first into the punch bowl. She pulls his face back up by his hair, “that was for touching me.”

Then she slams him onto the floor where he coughs out punch from his lungs. “And that was for what you did to my husband as a kid, he was a Kid! You may have peaked in high school, but at least Doctor Reid doesn’t have a widow's peak, like yours. He is the smartest, sexiest, and most wonderful man in the world and you're nothing but a loser.”

Spencer turns around at the sound of her voice, “oooo” echos around the gym as everyone looks at the scene unfolding. Patrick, the asshole quarterback that traumatized him as a child, was on the ground covered in red juice as he complained about a sore arm.

Y/N smiles at him and waves before rejoining Spencer, “he doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Spencer suggests and she is all too eager to skip out of the room with him, right past Patrick.

—

She slams him against the wall as soon as they’re inside the hotel room again, kissing him with more desperation than she’s ever felt in her life. She needed him, he was her last piece and then she’d be complete.

She breaks the kiss to move down his neck as she loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt. “Are you sure we can be friends after this?”

“I’d hope my husband was my best friend,” she whispers against his skin.

He pulls her away from his neck, hands on her cheeks so he can look at her and read her expressions as best as possible, “I’m serious, I don’t want to do this if it’s going to make working together hard.”

“You’re an idiot,” she smiles, “I have been in love with you for months Spencer. I want this, I have wanted you for so long…”

His breathing changes as she explains her feelings, leaning in to kiss his neck again and make her way down his chest. “I’ve thought about this for so long Spencer, you have no idea how many dirty thoughts I have about doing things like this with you.”

“I got 1 bed on purpose,” he gasps out, “I wanted to sleep beside you… I hoped—

She smiles against him, “I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you to get 2…”

“You’re really not kidding?” He sounds so desperate it’s almost sad.

She stops her kissing and looks at him again, “why is it so hard for you to believe all the things I’ve said about you tonight? I’m not just trying to impress them, I’m telling the whole fucking world that the person I am in love with is the smartest man they will ever meet. People should bow at your feet, Spencer, let me appreciate you for how incredibly wonderful you are and stop doubting my feelings.”

“You love me?” Tears well in his eyes and he feels like a complete idiot, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I wanted you to admit it first,” she whispers, equally as embarrassed. “I have a huge crush on you Spence, it’s not just that I love you, I never want to stop. You’re so nice and kind and funny? And you make me smile every day and I laugh even on the worst days ever because you’re there, and when I think about the future and reunions and events like this that I have to go to one day, and all I want is to bring you along and show everyone that you’re mine.”

She rambled more than he did, “so please, will you unzip my dress and join me in our one bed, husband?”

“Absolutely, my beautiful wife,” he turns her around, moving her hair off her back, he kisses her shoulder softly.

He moves the zip down as slow as possible, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin as he did so. When he reached the end, she pushed the straps off her arms and let the dress fall to the floor.

Mission accomplished.