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passionfruitchris · 12 days ago

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𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇: you think chris’s too tired to touch you—until he catches you trying to do it yourself and shows you exactly why his fingers are better. | WC: 1.7K

The room was almost silent—only the low hum of the heater and the quiet breaths of the man sleeping beside you filled the space. Chris laid beside you on his back, one arm loosely draped over the blanket, lips parted just slightly, his lashes brushing the top of his cheeks. He looked serene like that, completely undone by exhaustion, the usual lines of tension in his brow softened to nothing. His hair was still damp from the shower he’d taken just before collapsing into bed, and the scent of his shampoo lingered faintly between the sheets.

You’d watched him fall asleep only moments after his head hit the pillow, his fingers twitching slightly before stilling. God, he was beautiful when he slept—too beautiful. And maybe it was that stillness, or the softness of his breath on your shoulder, or the warmth of his body beside yours, but your chest ached with quiet longing, a pulse of desire humming low in your stomach before you could stop it.

You hadn’t meant to let yourself get worked up tonight. Chris had been so tired — he’d spent the whole day helping Nick clean out the garage, carried boxes up and down the stairs for hours, and spent the evening helping Matt build new shelves for his room, all without complaint, despite how his shoulders ached and his eyelids drooped by dinner. You hadn’t even dared to initiate anything earlier; it would’ve felt selfish, you thought.

You’d kissed his temple, run your fingers through his hair, and told him how proud you were of him before he fell asleep in your shared bed. That should have been enough. And yet—now that you were lying next to him, wrapped in the heat of his presence, surrounded by the familiar weight of his scent and the shape of his body under the sheets—you couldn’t help the way your thighs pressed together, the way your skin burned with need. Watching him sleep only made it worse. The soft rise and fall of his chest, the slight part in his lips, the muscle twitch in his jaw—it all felt unfair, how easily he could turn you on without even trying.

You tried to ignore it, biting your lip and shifting onto your side to create a little space between your hips and his. But the ache only grew more pronounced. It felt like a kind of cruel irony—how badly you wanted him when he was clearly too tired to give. So, without fully thinking it through, you slid your hand beneath the covers and down between your legs, fingers hesitant at first, brushing over the waistband of your sleep shorts. You waited—listened to make sure his breathing stayed even—before slipping your hand inside. You gasped softly at how wet you already were, slick pooling between your thighs, your body too eager for your mind to keep up. Your fingertips found your clit and circled gently, trying to mimic the pace Chris usually used, trying to channel the memory of his longer fingers moving between your legs in those unhurried, devastating strokes. But it wasn’t the same.

Your hand felt too small, your reach too short. You arched your hips slightly for better access, biting your lip hard enough to leave an imprint, trying to keep quiet. But the pressure wasn’t deep enough, and you couldn’t quite get the right rhythm. You rubbed faster, trying to make up for it, and a small, helpless moan slipped from your mouth before you could stop it. You stilled instantly, heart thundering, listening. Chris hadn’t stirred. At least, not at first. Encouraged, you kept going—whimpering softly now, frustrated by how close you felt and how far away release remained. You slipped your fingers lower, trying to push inside, but again—your hand wasn’t enough. And then you felt it—the slow shift of movement beside you.

Chris stirred. His hand twitched against the mattress, and a second later, his head turned toward you. His voice, thick with sleep, murmured low and quiet: “...Baby?”

You froze like you’d been caught doing something shameful, eyes wide, cheeks burning. Your hand stayed buried between your legs, fingers still slick and needy, but you didn’t move. Slowly, he blinked open his eyes, pupils adjusting to the dark, gaze finding your flushed face and the way your hips were subtly tilted toward him beneath the sheets. His brow furrowed, just slightly, and then his hand reached toward you, searching, warm—and settled over your belly.

“Are you…?” he started, but the realization came fast. His fingers tightened slightly, and his voice shifted—deeper, more awake. “Were you touching yourself?”

You nodded, throat dry, suddenly embarrassed. “You were asleep,” you murmured. “I didn’t want to wake you. You’ve been so tired, and—” You hesitated, glancing down. “—mine aren’t as long. I couldn’t reach the way you do.”

Chris stared at you for a moment longer, his breath catching quietly in his throat. His expression softened into something unreadable—something between love and possession and stunned, tender awe. And then he was moving, slowly pushing himself up onto one elbow, the other hand sliding beneath the covers without hesitation. “Say that again,” he whispered, voice rough. His hand found yours between your legs and gently coaxed it away. “Tell me what you said.”

You swallowed, your voice barely audible now. “Yours are longer.”

A low, breathless sound left his throat—half groan, half chuckle—and then his fingers were pushing into the wet heat between your legs like they belonged there. “Damn right they are,” he murmured, his mouth brushing against your ear now, his hand moving slow against your clit. “You should’ve woken me, baby. You think I wouldn’t want to take care of you? Even in my sleep, I’d want to touch you.”

Your head tipped back against the pillow, legs parting further beneath the blankets. He curled his fingers inside you and dragged a moan straight from your chest, the sound muffled against his shoulder as he shifted closer. “You’re already soaked,” he breathed, almost in disbelief. “All for me, huh?” You nodded, barely coherent now as his fingers thrust deeper, working you open with that perfect pressure you’d tried and failed to replicate yourself. His lips brushed down your neck, open-mouthed kisses replacing apology. “Next time,” he whispered, “you wake me. No matter how tired I am. I’ll always want to touch you.”

Chris’s fingers moved with the kind of slow certainty that made your mind go soft and your body tighten with need. He knew you too well—knew exactly how to angle his hand, how to stroke your clit with the perfect rhythm while his other fingers curled inside you in slow, deliberate thrusts. He didn’t rush. Even now, with sleep still thick in his voice and his body heavy with fatigue, his entire focus was you—your breathy whimpers, the way your hips rolled helplessly into his hand, the way your thighs trembled under the duvet. He kissed your shoulder, soft and open-mouthed, while his wrist flexed between your legs, every stroke deeper than the last. “There,” he murmured, almost reverently, when he felt the way you clenched around him. “Right there, yeah? That’s your spot, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You could barely answer. Your fingers scrabbled to hold onto something—anything—and landed on his wrist, the one wearing that familiar metal bracelet he never took off. The chain was cold, biting against your inner thigh, a delicious contrast to the heat pooling low in your belly. Your hand gripped him tightly, not to stop him—God, no—but to ground yourself as his fingers dragged across that devastating spot again and again. You moaned brokenly into his neck, thighs falling wider apart, completely unable to control the sounds spilling from your lips. His bracelet shifted slightly with each thrust, dragging a shiver across your skin, the metal brushing against your sensitive flesh like a brand. It was a reminder that it was him doing this—Christopher—the man who’d fallen asleep beside you and still woke up just to take care of your body like it was the only thing he lived for.

He didn’t stop. If anything, his pace got more focused—two fingers curling hard, perfectly inside you, pressing into that exact bundle of nerves that made your legs shake. “That’s it, baby,” he rasped, lips against your jaw now, voice gravel-edged from sleep and arousal. “You feel that? Right there. I want you to come for me—come on my fingers. Let me feel you.” The tone in his voice had shifted—still loving, still tender—but deeper now, laced with that possessive edge he only ever let show when he was making you fall apart. The pleasure crested fast and high, your back arching, thighs clenching around his hand as your orgasm crashed over you like a wave. You sobbed his name, your hand gripping his bracelet tighter as your walls pulsed around his fingers, helpless and wrung out, entirely lost in the moment.

Chris held you through it, slowing his hand but never pulling away, working you gently through the aftershocks until your hips stopped twitching and your breathing leveled into shaky exhales. He pressed kisses to your face, your temple, your cheek, your lips—soft murmurs falling between each one. “Good girl… so good for me… always so pretty when you come,” he whispered, the praise low and endless. His hand finally slid from between your legs, soaked and glistening, and he didn’t hesitate to lick his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste of you before pulling you flush against his chest. The bracelet on his wrist clinked faintly against your thigh again as he wrapped his arm around you, the metal still cool, a silent echo of the pleasure it had accompanied.

You melted into him, face tucked into his neck, legs tangled with his under the sheets. Chris’s hand rubbed lazy, comforting circles on your back now, his other arm tight around your waist like he never wanted to let you go. He kissed your forehead, a deep, slow breath exhaling against your hair. “next time,” he murmured, voice sleepy again, “you wake me sooner. Deal?” And all you could do was nod into his skin, your heart still racing, your body still humming from the feeling of him inside you—even if it was just his fingers.

snoopy divider by: @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: this took forever to finish omg thank you so much for reading, it genuinely means the world. i seriously appreciate every interaction—likes, comments, reblogs, anything. i proofread this over and over (probably to an obsessive degree lol), so i really hope it comes across the way i imagined.

also! i ended up separating the paragraphs more and making them a bit longer in this one—if that made it harder to engage with, i’ll definitely keep that in mind and avoid doing it in the future. this is my first long-form fic on this account, so thank you again for being here <3

tags: @emeraldsturns @zenithsturniolo @sturnsblogs @sirensdollesque

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo blurb #sturniolo triplets x reader #mathew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine #frat boy chris #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff

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targaryenluvs · 1 year ago

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OH BABY!

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader

summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭

word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.

a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk -UPDATE HOLY CRAP THERE IS GONNA BE A NEW MOVIW AND BOOKKKSJSNABS

taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye

“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.

as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.

your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.

you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.

as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.

finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.

he practically had you all to himself.

“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.

“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.

your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.

“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.

finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.

“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.

he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.

there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.

how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.

you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.

after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.

“oh isn’t she adorable?”

“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”

“you are precious!”

they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.

in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.

it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.

it was just you and finnick.

“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”

he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.

you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.

“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.

finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.

“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.

“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.

finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.

“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.

the interview went well, in your eyes at least.

caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.

the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.

“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.

“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.

you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.

“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.

“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.

you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.

finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.

you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?

you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.

“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”

the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.

you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.

instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”

the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.

whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.

the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.

your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?

finnick needed to see more.

the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.

such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.

his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.

finnick would tell you right?

“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.

your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.

“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.

for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.

you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.

“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

“yes, here.”

“i’ll make it so good for you.”

“just let me feel you.”

“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.

your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.

only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.

by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?

“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”

his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?

“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.

his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”

“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.

“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.

it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.

as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”

your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.

he wanted to go easy on you.

but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.

the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”

you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.

his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”

but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.

god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.

“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.

“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”

you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.

“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”

he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?

“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.

“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.

“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.

now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?

his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.

a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.

“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.

this man was driven youd give him that.

“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.

“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.

each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.

“wanna make you feel good.”

“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”

when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.

you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.

“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-

smack!

“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.

smack!

you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.

“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.

smack!

“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?

he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.

he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.

“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.

his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.

the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.

the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.

you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.

you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.

#dark!finnick odair x fem!reader #dark!finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x fem!reader #hunger games x reader #finnick odair x female reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x reader

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year ago

Text

the pro

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.

Notes: My brain chose violence this morning. Not beta-read because when is it ever.

Length: 4.8K

Warnings: Slow burn; unhappily married reader; divorced Art Donaldson; infidelity; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; unsafe sex

Summary: Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.

He's the biggest men's tennis star since Andy Roddick.

That’s what your husband says, as if it’ll entice you. As if you know anything about tennis, about the pro that your husband says will be coming to the house to teach you to play.

It’ll be good for you. You need a hobby.

You don’t gripe or argue. You don’t tell him that five months into your marriage shouldn’t have you looking for a new hobby. You should still be in the honeymoon stage, spending all of your time with him, hanging off of his arm, off of his every word. But he works so much and he’s away so often—

I don’t want you to get bored.

It’s a sweet gesture. The maid handles the housework; you have a chef that handles most of the grocery shopping and cooking, unless you insist on making something yourself; you have a housekeeper that arranges for anything you need—dry cleaning, maintenance. And it’s no wonder that with all of his money, his power, he can just order a retired pro tennis player up to your house, like you’d order a pizza. There’s a tennis court in the back of the mansion, a few feet from the pool. You’ll get some new outfits, the best sneakers, the nicest rackets. You’ll finally have something to do to fill your days.

Art Donaldson.

You know his name before the lean, fair-skinned patrician man turns up at your front door. He trails you through the house, politely declines your offer of a beverage.

“You ever played tennis before?” He asks.

You haven’t. Before your husband arranged this for you, you hadn’t so much as given the sport more than a passing thought. You don’t have the heart or confidence to tell that to a man that’s made tennis his whole life, so you just give him a small, guilty smile and say no, you haven’t. He nods, waves you off, insists that it’s fine.

“We’ll start with the basics.”

Two months of lessons on the basics make your arms tired, and your hands sore. But where your swings are clumsy and your grip is weak at first, you can see improvement in the way that you move. Your steps are less clumsy when you go after a ball; you’re more aware of the service line and the base line; your forehand stroke from contact to your left shoulder is smoother; your rotation and follow-through on your backhand is coming along, but has a long way to go.

Art’s instruction is calm and steady. He explains technique as much as he demonstrates it. When you get something wrong, he doesn’t scold, just lightly corrects. When you do something well, his encouragement is constant and free-flowing. Every accurate move and motion is met with, “Nice,” or, “Perfect,” or, “That’s it.”

On the days when you don’t have a lesson with Art, you practice. You order a tennis ball machine to work on your forehand and backhand. You attempt (and fail) to learn how to slice on your own. You try anyway—you can only imagine the way his eyes might light up if you manage to surprise him.

You’ve tried to ignore the rising interest that you have in Art, but you can’t help the little…Crush that’s developed. He’s just so attentive, and kind. When you find yourself smiling these days, it’s often because of something that he said, or did. You can’t remember the last time your husband made you feel giddy this way. It was probably when you started dating—before you’d made the decision to marry for comfort, rather than love. Your husband is practical, rarely physically affectionate, more heavily involved in his job and social circles than with you.

But you’ll have to find a way to thank him. He’s given you a hobby, and a man that grins at you like you just painted the goddamn Mona Lisa when you serve your first ace.

“So, tell me about the Mark Rebellato Academy.”

Art smiles, dipping his head as he reaches for his coffee. It’s taken a few months, but you finally convince him to have something to drink with you after practice. Your chef is blessedly out shopping for ingredients for dinner, so you have the kitchen all to yourself. Art has watched you putter around, seeming surprised that you know where everything is. You can’t blame him; the kitchen is chef-grade, and you don’t cook much these days.

“Did your husband tell you that’s where I went?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

You’re too embarrassed to admit that you’ve done some googling, and watched a couple of clips of him interviewing before and after his matches.

“I’ve just heard,” You fib. “Tell me about it?”

He leans back in his seat, eyes skating across your face as he seems to consider something.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Did you enjoy it? I mean—” It feels like a dumb question once it’s out, and you hurry to redirect, “With what you know now, if you had the choice, would you have learned how to play tennis somewhere else?”

He considers for a moment, trailing his finger over the side of his cup. Your gaze flits to his fingers, and your own flex around your mug handle. You’ve spent far too much time looking at and thinking about Art’s fingers—their length and quickness; the slight roughness of his calloused hands; the lingering tan line from where his wedding band used to sit.

“Yeah,” He admits, drawing your full attention back to his face. “I would. It was foundational, you know. I’ve been thinking of sending Lily there.”

“Lily?”

A bittersweet smile twists his lips. “My daughter.”

“Oh!” It catches you off-guard.

“Tashi, uh—” He clears his throat, “Lily’s mother, my ex-wife. She and I are thinking about schools.”

“I’m sure they’d be glad to have her. Does she play tennis?”

“Little bit. She didn’t start until last year, but she's a natural.” He clears his throat again, presses, “Are you and your husband planning on having kids?”

“Oh god no.” You blurt it out, and realize as he raises his brows that you’ve spoken too quickly. You lean back in your seat, stirring your coffee quickly to distract yourself from your growing embarrassment. “He actually has kids already. Two girls, seven and ten. They’re at boarding school and they stay with their mother when they're on vacation. I haven’t gotten to spend much time with them.”

“...He seems to be pretty busy.”

“He is.”

“So it’s just you in this big house?” He tips his head to the side, brows knitting with curiosity. “What do you do all day?”

“Play tennis.”

He grins, chuckling, and your stomach flips at the sound.

“It shows, you know,” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I can tell you’re practicing without me. And,” He leans across the table, running his fingers lightly over the exposed skin of your bicep, “You’re getting stronger.”

You wonder if he can see or feel the goosebumps that break out across your skin at the gentle sweep, his gaze heavy on yours.

“I have a good teacher,” You murmur. Art’s lips twitch with a soft smile, his hand gently cupping your arm.

“Just good?” He plies.

“The best. A real pro.”

His smile widens, and the flash of his tongue sweeping across his lower lip makes your face go hot. You know that you’re caught when Art’s touch becomes firmer, pulling your arm toward him just a little.

The sound of approaching footsteps startles you, and you hurriedly tug your arm away. The sight of your husband makes your heart leap into your throat.

“There you are,” He smiles. “Art, how’s she doin’?”

“She’s killing it.”

You don’t dare look at him, but you can feel the weight of his attention lingering on you still. You just give your husband a smile, tipping your cheek up obligingly as he leans down to kiss it.

“Actually, Art,” Your husband straightens up, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m glad I caught you. There’s a charity event for a local club this month. It’s for uh…What is it?” He squeezes your shoulders for answers, and you have to keep from rolling your eyes.

“It’s a charity tennis match to raise funds to fix up the local courts. They need resurfacing and they’re raising funding to keep the fees down.”

“We could use a sponsorship from the foundation,” Your husband adds.

“Honey,” You glance back, wary of insulting Art. But—

“I’ll do it,” Art agrees. “Send me the details.”

“Excellent,” Your husband grins. “Maybe we could coax you into a match or two.”

You don’t chastise him this time—not when you see something light up in Art.

“Maybe.”

You haven’t seen Art play before. You’ve specifically avoided it. You’ve known that when you saw it, you would be too intimidated to do a damn thing on the court with him. But now, you can’t stop watching him. You don’t even care that you probably look so out of place—where everyone else is watching the ball, you’re just watching him.

His movements are so neat, so precise. It’s like watching a dance. He’s running the poor guy on the other side of the net up and down the court. And the sounds that he’s making—god. Every little grunt and groan is weaving increasingly filthy thoughts in your mind. You already know that you’ll seek out the memory of those sounds, as you reach between your legs later. His shirt clings to his chest, showcasing the muscles that you’ve always suspected he has. Strands of hair plaster to his forehead as sweat drips over his cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, over his jaw.

When he scores a match point and he looks toward the cheering crowd—when his eyes land on you instantly, without having to search—it’s like you’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. You can’t think, or move. You barely have the focus to applaud, but you manage to raise your hands and clap.

Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.

Coffee becomes a post-lesson ritual. He starts to stick closer and closer to you as he follows you into the house until he begins to rest his hand on your lower back, guiding you to your door. He keeps nearby when you’re making it, brushes droplets of sweat off of your forehead or neck. Every touch is electrifying; you have to make a concentrated effort to keep your hands steady, your face neutral as your heart pounds and your stomach floods with butterflies.

He pushes you harder on the court, and you force yourself to meet the level that he sets for you, even when you don’t feel confident in it. But you want to make him proud.

It spurs you to lunge a little too far.

The sharp stabbing pain in your left ankle makes you shriek, and you tumble to the ground, dropping the racket with a clatter. You hear the pounding of his feet, glance up just in time to see him clear the net before he’s on the ground at your side.

“What hurts?”

“My ankle,” You grit out, hissing softly as he helps you straighten your leg out. He smooths his hands over your calf, leaning over you and gently guiding your foot in a few different directions. You whimper as he starts to guide your foot to the left.

“Okay, okay,” He soothes, “Let’s get you inside.”

For as much as you damn the throbbing in your ankle, you thank it a little, too. You lean heavily against Art, making the slow, arduous journey back to the house with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle.

When your husband comes home, he finds you with on the couch with Art coming back in from the kitchen, an ice pack in your hand.

You’d hope for concern, but your husband frowns, glances at the swelling knob of your ankle, and simply asks: “What did you do?”

“She lost her balance.” Art sits down on the other end of the couch, soothing you as the chill of the ice pack makes you shift with discomfort.

“Are you going to be able to walk tomorrow?” Your husband presses. “We have dinner at the Fineman’s.”

“I'm still going, don't worry about that."

“...Tomorrow might be a bit soon,” Art warns.

“I’ll be okay. It’s just a sprain, right?” You tip your brows up, hoping, praying that he’ll agree for your sake. His fingers flex around the ice pack, jaw ticking as he clenches it. He doesn’t say a word as your husband sighs heavily, grumbles, “I hope so. Still, we should put a pause on the lessons until she’s fighting fit again.”

Art finally tears his eyes from yours, a tight smile on his lips.

“Of course.”

“How’s the ankle?”

It takes you a moment to scrounge up an answer. You can’t believe that he called. You knew that Art had gotten your number when you started taking lessons with him, but he’s never used it beyond texting to confirm a lesson time now and again.

You look down at the still-swollen flesh as it strains against the thin strap of your slingbacks.

“Fine,” You lie, “It’s um—” You glance over your shoulder, listening for your husband. “It’s not that bad.”

“Good enough to walk on?”

Hardly.

“Yes.” You think you’ve gotten away with it, but when you hear Art sigh and chastise, “You should rest,” You know that you haven’t.

“I have,” You insist, “All day.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.”

“You can tell him no, you know.”

Your mouth works wordlessly, body going hot with indignation. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can’t tell him that he’s wrong, that your husband’s connections are the lifeblood of his business. You can’t tell him that if your husband’s business falls apart, you won't be able to afford those tennis lessons, and then how the hell are you supposed to see Art again?

You just yank your phone away from your ear and hang up.

I invited Art.

It shouldn’t be a surprise, but your husband’s statement makes you feel like you’ve swallowed your tongue. You haven’t seen or spoken to Art in nearly two weeks. Your doctor recommended putting off any physical activity, which your husband surely relayed to him. He was the one whose name was on Art’s checks, after all.

Your husband has always thrown a massive party to kick off the summer. Every year, 150 of your husband’s closest family, friends, and business associates flooded into the house. It shouldn’t be such a surprise that your husband invited Art after the performance he had given at the fundraiser—$25,000 from the foundation, and ticket sales went through the roof when it had been announced that the Art Donaldson would be making an appearance. Your husband owed Art a lot, and probably saw this as an opportunity for him to network, to take on more clients. He had been evangelizing Art’s training to any of your friends that would listen—how good you are on the court, how engaged and energetic you seem to be these days.

It’s one thing to know that you’ll have to put on a happy face for the crowd, but to know that Art will be among them makes your insides twist with nerves. You can’t stop thinking about the way that he had spoken to you when you were hurt; his calm, steadying demeanor as he’d gotten you inside; the careful coaxing and gentle touch that he’d used as he’d taken your shoe off and examined your ankle more closely.

You think about it now, as you strap on another pair of heels. Your ankle really is doing well, though you have a little lingering pain in shoes like these. You’ll likely be on your feet for the length of the party; it’s going to be a long night. You look over yourself in the mirror, self consciously tipping your ankle from side to side for anything that he may spot or catch out. But there’s nothing, you reassure yourself. You slide your hands over the skirt, plastering on a smile as your husband pokes his head into your dressing room.

“Almost ready in here?” He asks.

“All set!”

He doesn’t come over to you. On the crowded patio, you can feel him watching you—you’ve gotten so used to seeking out the sensation that you can’t ignore it now. The first true look at him is agony. He watches you from just a few feet away, a glass of champagne in hand as he speaks with your husband and the Finemans. He openly looks you over, eyes drifting over your body to the flash of ankle revealed by the slit in your dress. He tips his head to the side just a little, squinting before his eyes flit back up to your face, lips twitching with a small smile.

You want to hate how good it feels; you want to be angry with him for his smug knowing, his insistence of You can tell him no, you know. But it feels so goddamn good to have his attention again that you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. You know that you’re staring—that you both are—and you force yourself to turn away and excuse yourself from the conversation you’re in. You go inside, murmuring your thanks for the waitstaff that pass you along the way.

The house isn’t nearly as busy as the patio, and you're able to slip into your darkened study unnoticed. You leave the lights off, certain that if you turn them on, people will be drawn in to bug you, like moths to a flame. The party’s lights and music filter in through the partially-closed blinds.

You lean against the desk, circling your ankle and wincing a little. You’ll hide for a few minutes, let it rest—

Your breath catches in your throat as the door opens. You expect your husband, ready to scold and usher you back to the guests.

You only have a second to get a look at Art before he shuts the door behind himself, plunging the room back into darkness. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the desk as you use it to ground yourself.

“...Do you need something?” You ask, voice wobbling with nerves.

“Wanted to come say hi.”

“Well. Hi.”

You hear him chuckle, his footsteps muted by the carpet.

“Thanks for the invite.”

“It wasn’t my idea.” It’s not polite to admit, but you want it to sting him, just a little. Maybe it does; in the dim of the room, you can’t see Art’s expression as he comes to a stop just a couple of feet from you.

“Do you want me to go?” He asks. You know what you should say, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“No,” You whisper. You feel the heat of him as he comes closer, his hands resting on the desk and caging you in. You bite your lip as gently brushes his nose against yours.

“He isn’t taking care of you.”

“My ankle is fine.”

“I’m not talking about your ankle.” He lifts a hand, smoothing it over your hip as your breath mingles. Art’s fingers drift from your hip to stroke over the apex of your dress’s slit. His fingers slip further down, and you nod as he palms your thigh. Before you can say or do a thing, Art sinks to his knees. He curls his hand around your left calf, lifting it. You shiver as his lips press a gentle kiss to your ankle. His hand and lips travel up, easing the fabric of your dress higher with each second. The first brush of his knuckles against your panty-covered clit makes you jolt. Your hands dig into the wood of the desk as his fingers hook between the fabric and your skin. You lift your hips without a word, allowing him to draw them down.

Art presses a kiss to your mound before he lowers his head, giving your lips a sweet, sucking kiss. You gasp softly as his tongue swipes across your clit. You look down despite the fact that you can’t see him well. You can just make out his blissful expression, his eyes closed as his laps broadly across your aching cunt. You lower your hand to his neat hair, winding your fingers through it, unable to help grasping it. His heady moan vibrates against you and you nearly cry out at the sensation. You manage to just catch it, the sound dying in your throat as Art buries his tongue inside you. He sweeps his thumb over your clit in rush, harried circles, panting against your heated flesh. You rock your hips down against his lips, tightening your grip on his hair as you guide him. He lets you do as you please, whining against your skin as your movements become less controlled.

“Art,” You warn, “I—Oh, oh god—”

He hums in encouragement, sucking your clit back between his lips and lashing it with his tongue. Your jaw drops open, your hand shoving Art even more tightly against your skin as you cum suddenly. A stunned, breathy moan slips from your lips as Art leans back, smearing his lips against the inside of your thigh.

You use your grasp on Art’s hair to draw him back up off of his knees, giving him a crushing kiss as he catches his balance. You swipe your tongue across his lips, whining against his lips as you taste yourself on him. He presses close, his hard cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You reach down, palming and squeezing his length as you trade slick, messy kisses. He steers you back onto the desk as you fumble to undo his belt, button, and zip.

“Condom?” He asks.

“Pill,” You reassure, shoving his pants down. You lap broadly across your palm, grasping Art’s length and guiding him closer. He brushes the tip of his cock against your still-throbbing clit, smiling as you whine. You’re going to ache tomorrow, but you’ve never been so happy to be sore.

“Art.”

“Sssh.”

“Please—” It’s hardly out of your mouth before he shoves his hips forward, seating himself fully with a single thrust. You bite down on your lip to quiet your moan, curling your arms around your shoulders. He rocks into you with firm, quick strokes, his mouth covering yours. You can hear things on the desk rattling with each thrust, kisses growing less controlled as he hoists your thigh up around his hip.

“Oh, god,” You breathe, “We have to be quick—He’ll come looking—”

“Not until you cum for me again,” He urges. “I need to feel it, sweetheart.”

“Art—”

“When’s the last time he did this? Hmm?” He presses, “When’s the last time he made you cum? When’s the last time he tasted you?”

“Never,” You admit with a shiver. It seems to renew Art’s passion, his thrusts and hold growing more intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands hooking tightly in the fabric of his jacket. He yanks the front of your dress down, bowing over you and drawing one of your nipples between his lips. You whimper as he toys with the bud, tugging it gently with his teeth before swiping across it. You arch into the slick heat, using your leg to tug him even closer as you chased the swelling curl of your orgasm.

“Just like that,” You urge, “Ffffuck—yes, yesyesyesyes—”

Your eyes squeeze shut as your hips buck down against his, pussy pulsing as he spills into you. Your heart pounds in your chest as the two of you slow and still. Art rests his forehead heavily against your neck, peppering gentle kisses across the exposed skin. You have to move—now. You don’t know if anyone heard you, but if someone did, you’re screwed. If no one did, your husband will probably be looking for you anyway, ready with a scold for neglecting your hostess duties.

“...I have to go,” You warn softly. It takes Art a moment to move, but he does, gently drawing himself back from your still-throbbing cunt. You hear the clanking of his belt buckle as he tucks himself away, and you reach down, righting your dress where it’s been pulled away. You take up your panties from where they’d been discarded on the floor, tugging them on before you straighten your skirt and hurry out of the room.

“Can I see you?”

It’s only been an hour since the last guest has left, and you are so, so fucking tired. You glance toward the bathroom door. You know that you locked it, and you’re certain that your husband can’t hear you over the shower running, but you can’t help but be paranoid.

“You just saw me,” You remind him.

“Tomorrow,” Art clarifies.

“Where?”

“I’ll send an address.”

You bite your lip, toying with your earring. Your pussy is still aching from the stretch of him, your ass sore from getting fucked on the desk.

“...You regret it?” He asks.

“No,” You don't give your answer a second thought.

“I’ll send an address. Whether or not you see me is up to you. Just…think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

You lower your phone, hanging it up and watching his contact information blink away. It’s only a moment before a text with an address lights up your phone. You don’t have to think about it. You already know what you’re going to do.

You know that you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Art has spent so much time in your home, so you feel entitled to look around a little bit. You eye the row of trophies on his mantle, photos of him playing when he was young. You come to a stop at a picture of him with a young girl, a racket in her hand and a medal around her neck.

“Is this Lily?” You ask.

“Yeah,” He nods. “First competition.”

“Already getting gold,” You smile. “The Mark Rebellato Academy isn’t ready for her.”

Art chuckles, nodding as he steps around you.

“You, uh…You want something to eat, or drink, or…?” He trails off, tucking his hands into his pockets as he takes a couple of steps back toward his kitchen. You turn to face him, taking him in more fully.

“Art?”

“Yeah?”

“Why am I here?”

He doesn’t answer for a few moments. You can see him weighing his options before he comes closer.

“I…I’ve been thinking about last night.”

Fear shoots through you, but you force yourself to stand tall. “Okay.”

“I could lie and tell you that it should be a one-time thing, but I can’t remember the last time I got through a day without thinking about you. And I think you’ve been thinking about me, too.” Art stops as the tip of his shoes brush against yours, and you let your eyes slip closed as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” He pleads. “Tell me to fuck off right now and I will never say another non-tennis related thing to you again.”

When he fucks you, he curls close, chest pressing against yours as he catches your lips in a kiss. You sink back against his pillows, your head cradled by his broad palm as he rolls his hips achingly slowly. You don’t bother to hide your whines and moans, and you revel in his. Every grunt and whimper and groan that Art lets out lights you up.

And when you cum, you don't have to quiet yourself. His name tumbles out of your mouth, cushioned between expletives as your nails dig into his shoulders.

"What time is he home tonight?"

You don't want to think about it. You want to stay in this cozy little bubble, trailing your fingers over his muscled chest as he massages your nape and kisses your forehead.

But you know that you'll have to let the world back in sometime.

"I don't know," You admit. "Late."

"...Could stay."

"He'll be suspicious if I'm not home when he gets there."

Art sighs softly, running his hand down to rub between your shoulder blades.

"This isn't going to be easy, is it."

"What?"

"Letting you go every day."

"Every day?" You tease, pushing yourself up to get a better look at him. "Don't get greedy, Mr. Donaldson."

He smiles, raising his hand and cupping your cheek. "Is it greedy to know what I want?"

You shake your head a little, lowering your lips to brush against his.

"Not when I want it, too."

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ;

@buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

#Art Donaldson x Reader #Art Donaldson x You #Art Donaldson/Reader #Art Donaldson/You #Art Donaldson fic #Art Donaldson imagine #the pro

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missarchive · 4 months ago

Text

captured in quiet glances

spencer reid

cw; making out in the bullpen, slightly cocky spencer, flirting, nervous!reader, GLASSES GLASSES GLASSES (cause they need a warning of their own), cockblocking in the workplace

an; based on an ask i received a little while ago but accidentally deleted, my sincere apologies, sweet anon, i hope you enjoy!

wc; around 3k

Spencer Reid.

The very same name had rolled off your tongue in whispered prayer late in the night more times than you could count. When you could finally enjoy solitude, away from prying eyes, away from the people who knew what you were thinking before you even did. Your attraction to Spencer was no secret—how could it be?

Not when your gaze lingered on him far too long, tracing the sharp curve of his jaw, the delicate arch of his brow, or the way his hands moved when he spoke, gesturing with an awkward yet endearing intensity.

Not when your heart skipped a beat every time he laughed at something you said, even if it was something ridiculous. And certainly not when your stomach fluttered with reckless abandon whenever his eyes locked onto yours, as if you were part of the mystery he was trying to solve.

But today was different.

You hadn’t expected to find him in the bullpen this morning looking like that.

The moment you stepped through the doors, your feet faltered, your bag sliding precariously down your shoulder as your brain scrambled to catch up with the vision before you. Spencer Reid. In glasses.

Not the kind of glasses someone wears begrudgingly, as a last resort after losing a contact. No, these were intentional. Framed to perfection, resting effortlessly on the bridge of his nose, accentuating the sharpness of his features in a way that sent your thoughts spiralling.

The lenses framed his cautious brown doe-eyes, once soft and inquisitive, now sharp and calculated, as though seeing the world through a new, refined lens. They gave him an air of confidence, something you might mistake for cockiness in anyone else. But with Spencer, it was different.

You knew his ego when it came to his intelligence—how could he not have one? Years of being underestimated, of facing disbelief instead of encouragement, had built him into a man who wielded his knowledge like armour.

He wasn’t the same awkward boy genius anymore. Today, standing there in his crisp shirt and fitted vest, pushing those damned glasses up the bridge of his nose with a casual flick of his fingers—he was something else entirely.

He was devastating.

"Y/N?"

His voice shattered the daze you had fallen into, and you blinked rapidly, realizing you had been staring. Heat flooded your cheeks as your grip tightened on your bag, your mind scrambling for an escape.

"Morning, Spencer," you managed, forcing a smile that you hoped masked the chaos inside you.

His lips quirked into a polite smile, his eyes scanning your face in that way that made your skin prickle. He adjusted his glasses again, and you had to fight the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to reach out and do it for him.

Focus, Y/N.

You dropped your bag onto your desk with a little too much enthusiasm, papers shuffling under your fumbling hands. Anything to keep yourself busy. Anything to stop thinking about how ridiculously attractive he looked today. Because if you let yourself dwell on it too long, you'd be doomed.

"Everything okay?"

His voice was closer now, and when you glanced up, he was standing right beside your desk, those sharp, knowing eyes analyzing you with quiet intensity. You swallowed hard, forcing a casual shrug.

"Yeah," you croaked, clearing your throat. "Just didn’t get much sleep last night."

Spencer nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. "If you need caffeine, I just brewed a fresh pot in the break room."

You nodded, your voice coming out higher than intended. "Thanks, Reid."

As he walked away, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Spencer Reid in glasses was going to be the death of you.

The morning passed in a blur of stolen glances and clumsy keystrokes, each one more humiliating than the last. You were convinced you'd managed to play it cool—until you heard your name.

"Y/N."

Your head snapped up, eyes widening as Spencer stood beside your desk again, arms crossed over his chest. He had that look—the one that said he had already unraveled the entire situation in his head and was just waiting for you to confirm it.

"You’ve been acting... different today," he observed, tilting his head slightly.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. "Different? How?"

You aimed for nonchalance, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Spencer's lips twitched in amusement. "For one, your typing speed has decreased by approximately thirty percent. You’ve corrected yourself five times in the last hour, and you haven’t made eye contact with me for more than two seconds at a time. Normally, you maintain it for an average of 6.4 seconds."

Damn it. Why did he have to be so perceptive?

You shifted in your seat, waving a dismissive hand. "Maybe I’m just tired."

Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Or maybe..." He leaned in, his voice dropping slightly, "it has something to do with the fact that you've been staring at my glasses all day."

Your stomach plummeted, and heat rushed to your face. He knew. Of course he knew.

"I—" you began, scrambling for an excuse, but his soft chuckle cut you off.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice lower now, almost teasing. “I noticed the way your pupils dilated when you first saw me this morning. It’s a physiological response to attraction.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Oh my God, Spencer.”

His chuckle deepened, and when you peeked through your fingers, he was smiling—genuine and warm, with a hint of something else beneath it. Something smug.

“So,” he prompted, watching you carefully, “you think I look good in glasses?”

You let out a nervous laugh, finally dropping your hands. “Okay, fine. Yes, Reid. You look… good in glasses. Happy now?”

His eyes sparkled behind the lenses, and he nodded thoughtfully, fiddling with the leather strap on his messenger bag.

You felt the blush creep back up your neck as you realised where the conversation was headed. “Spencer Reid,” you said, trying to sound chastising. “Are you propositioning me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” you said bluntly, trying not to let your tone betray the excitement that was building inside you.

Spencer was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Is that… okay?” he murmured, leaning in even closer, until his face was only inches from yours.

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your ears. You shook your head, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself. “Yes, yeah- more than okay...”

Spencer’s lips parted, a soft huff of air escaping him. His fingers curled over the edge of your desk, gripping it like he needed the support to stay standing. He looked at you with those sharp, calculating eyes, but something had changed. His gaze had softened. It wasn’t as intense as it had been before.

It felt more like he was watching you—really watching you. Like he was taking in every little detail. The way your hair curled slightly at the nape of your neck, the soft pink hue of your lips, the shape of your eyes.

He leaned in even closer, his breath ghosting over your skin as he spoke. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you swallowed hard. “How long?”

Spencer’s thumb rubbed against the edge of your desk in a soothing motion, his eyes still locked on yours. “As soon as you joined the team,” he said, and even though his voice was steady, his words were laced with a vulnerability that made your chest ache. “You walked in, and everything changed for me.”

Your heart raced in your chest, pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of your ribcage. Spencer Reid had been attracted to you since day one? You felt his fingers brush against your hand, tentative as they intertwined with yours. Your palm tingled at the touch, and you looked down, watching as he threaded his fingers through yours.

Spencer’s eyes followed your gaze, lingering on the sight of your joined hands before flicking back up to your face. His fingers tightened around yours, his mouth opening to speak. “Do you still want this?” he asked, and it was different from the earlier question.

This time, there was no teasing in his voice, no confidence. He looked nervous. Anxious. Vulnerable. He looked like a man who had spent years wondering if he had a chance. A man who couldn’t believe he might finally get it.

And that—that was all it took. That was all you needed to see in him. You reached up, running your palm over his cheek and threading your fingers through his hair. You looked him straight in the eye. “I do,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered closed at the words. His body seemed to sag against yours, like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for the response.

When his eyes opened again, they weren’t shy anymore. They were sharp, burning with an intensity that stole the air from your lungs.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours, feather light. Your breath hitched, and his tongue slid out, tracing over your bottom lip. He tugged at your lower lip, pulling it between his teeth to nibble. You gasped, his mouth swallowing the sound. Your hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss.

He tasted like mint and chocolate, like your favourite kind of candy. His lips were softer than you imagined, his tongue hot and slick as it tangled with yours. You let out a moan, and Spencer’s grip on your waist tightened.

He pulled you closer, his hips shifting against yours, and that was all it took for your entire body to tense up. The feeling of his erection against you was enough to send your pulse into overdrive.

You wanted him. Needed him. So, so badly.

When he pulled away, your lips were swollen, and you felt like you might come right then and there. Your entire body was burning with need, tingling with arousal. “Spencer,” you gasped, clutching at his shirt. You tugged him closer, your mouth seeking his again. His hands tightened on your waist, and he groaned into your mouth, kissing you harder.

This wasn’t a gentle kiss. This wasn’t the sweet, tender moment you’d been imagining. This was desperate and needy, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

And you felt the same.

But a sound tore through the bullpen, snapping both of you back to reality.

The break room door had swung open. You heard the clatter of mugs on the counter as someone went for coffee. Spencer’s head snapped back, and he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling away. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling quickly, like he was struggling to catch his breath. He ran a hand over his mouth, looking more than a little dazed.

You couldn’t blame him. You felt like you’d just been hit by a freight train.

“We’re still at work,” he whispered, his voice thick. He glanced at the break room, then back to you. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, running your fingers through your hair. “It’s okay,” you said, forcing a laugh. “I think it’s been a while since anyone’s gotten action at the office.”

Spencer’s brows arched, and a laugh escaped him. It sounded more like a cough at first, but then grew louder, until he was grinning. You smiled back at him, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered.

As Spencer’s laugh faded, a comfortable silence lingered between you, but the tension was still palpable, buzzing in the air like static electricity. His hand lingered on the edge of your desk, fingers drumming softly as if he were debating what to say next.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen like this,” he admitted, his voice softer now, carrying a note of vulnerability that made your heart ache. “But... I’m not sorry it did.”

Your lips parted in surprise, your chest tightening at his words. You swallowed hard, gathering enough courage to answer. “Me neither.”

Spencer’s gaze softened further, the intensity in his eyes replaced by something warmer, more earnest. He hesitated, glancing toward the bullpen as if checking to see if anyone else might appear. When he was satisfied you were still alone, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“What do we do now?”

The question hung in the air between you, weighty and full of possibilities. You felt your pulse quicken, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a wave.

You smiled nervously, shifting in your seat. “Well, for starters, we don’t get caught making out in the middle of the office.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his lips curving into that shy, boyish smile you’d always found so endearing. “Good point.” He straightened up slightly, adjusting his glasses—a gesture that was quickly becoming your undoing. “But after that…?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. This wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you’d planned for when you woke up this morning. But as you looked up at him, at the way he stood there watching you with an intensity that made your stomach flutter, you realized you didn’t want to let this moment slip away.

“Dinner,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Tonight. My place.”

Spencer’s brows lifted, and for a brief moment, you worried you’d been too forward. But then his expression softened again, and he nodded. “I’d like that,” he said simply.

Relief flooded through you, and you found yourself smiling despite the lingering nerves. “Good. Then it’s a date.”

Before he could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps snapped both of you back to reality. Spencer stepped back quickly, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie as if nothing had happened. You grabbed a random file off your desk, pretending to review it with far more interest than necessary.

“Reid! Y/N!” Emily’s voice rang out as she approached, a cup of coffee in hand. “Hotch wants us in the conference room. New case.”

You both nodded, mumbling acknowledgments as Emily disappeared down the hall. When you glanced at Spencer, you found him already looking at you, a small, private smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Tonight,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear before turning and heading toward the conference room.

You watched him go, your heart pounding in your chest. Tonight. The word echoed in your mind, full of promise and anticipation.

#missarchive #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #bau x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader

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goorgeousz · 1 month ago

Text

emily mentions your underwear once and your brain short circuits

drabble

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!reader

content/tw: alcohol, mentions of underwears, reader wears a g-string, spencer gets super flustered, emily and reader flirt around like derek and garcia

a/n: I’ve listened to “guess” over 15 times in a row yesterday and this scenario keept popping up in my mind. anyways, hope you enjoy it <3

part two here

masterlist

dividers by @uzmacchiato

“Ugh. Why do men.” you groaned, placing your phone back down on the table after checking your new notification.

“What did he say now?” Garcia asked, leaning towards you.

“He asked me the color of my underwear.” you handed her the phone. Morgan and Reid, on each of her sides, leaned closer to see the text, in amusement and disgust, respectively.

“Reid, why do men seem to be so fascinated with women’s clothing?” Emily asked him.

“This is not… exactly my…field of expertise.” he started, blushing slightly, but excited as he always gets when someone encourages his ramblings. “But I do think it’s similar to the thought of people preferring privacy accounts over porn videos. It adds a level of intimacy and personal connection to the fantasy. He could just… masturbate thinking about you or looking for a picture. But when he asks you this, he’s bringing you into his imagination, making you actively participate in it. That’s my take, I think.” he shrugged.

“That’s… very smart.” you state, amazed. He smiles. “But I still think men are horrible. Terrible.”

“Don’t generalize.” Morgan pointed out, which earned him eye rolling from you, Emily and Penelope “Okay, okay!” he raised his hands in mock surrender “I’ll get another round of shots to apologize on our behalf.”

That earned him a kiss on the cheek from Garcia. She followed him toward the bar, leaving on the table only you, Spencer and Emily.

“I still don’t see the appeal. It doesn’t turn me on thinking about what kind of clothing he has on right now.”

“Well, women's undergarments are much more attractive than men’s.” Spender answers to you, blushing again furiously

“Let’s test that theory.” Emily suggests, turning her body completely towards you.

Mirroring her move, you turned on your seat to face her “What’s the color of your underwear?” you asked between giggles, trying (and failing) to make your voice sound low and sexy.

Emily, on the other hand, managed to bite back a laugh just fine, her amused smile turning into a smug smirk in a second. She leaned in, “I’m wearing a dark purple lace bra. It has a white bow between my… you know.” she winked.

Instantly you felt your mouth dry, the loud music from the bar faded away and it was only you and her. And her dark purple lace bra. You and her are used to jokingly flirting here and there, but, for some reason, it never actually felt real until that moment.

Your mind went blank, the only thing you could come up with was “Yeah?”

Her smirk grew, like she knew what it was doing to you “Mhmm. And it’s a set. My underwear is just like my bra: dark purple and lace, with the white little bow on the top. A g-string, just like yours.”

And that’s when you collapsed. Your eyes widened slightly, your face heating like she just slapped you.

Then, she switched it off. Her teasing posture was gone and she laughed loudly. Because you had no idea what just happened or what to do, you laughed with her, but clearly fakely. She turned towards Reid, whose eyes were about to pop out of his head, his face somehow redder than yours.

“I see the appeal.” she confessed to him, like she wanted him to add that to his database.

“Woah, what happened here? Why does Reid look like he just got a second-degree burn?” Morgan asked, setting the five glass shots on the table.

“They were flirting. Again. Guys, you know it breaks Reid.” Garcia chimed in, placing down a little plate with salt and lemon slices.

“Leave the foreplay to the bedroom, Misses.” he added, giving you a teasing wink.

“Oh, I wish. She likes boys.” Emily said, putting salt on her wrist before turning to you with a knowing smirk “But she knows I’d hit it.”

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saweetdolly · 2 months ago

Text

౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ “𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑“

pairing ~ hwang inho x shy!f!reader

warnings ~ 18+ minors dni, age gap (reader early 20s, inho late 40s early 50s), dirty talk, dry humping, oral (reader receiving), fingering, sub!reader & dom!inho

summary ~ after saving you during mingle and the night attack, inho wants to make sure you never leave his side

wc ~ 1.6k

a/n ~ hiii babies! this is my first time posting a fic so please be kind! atp we all sluts for mr inho so i thought my first fic should be of him :p rmb to eat n drink ur wataaa babiess! enjoyyy!

you never thought you'd find yourself in a situation like this. it almost sounded cliche. buried in debt from your studies, drained, and expecting death at any moment. the 'mingle' game had you frightened and traumatized you to no end, but left you with new alliances formed. 'young-il,' the man who saved you during the last round, helped comfort you back at the dormitory. the older man welcomed you into his group, promising to protect you and get you out of this place safely.

unknown to you, inho young-il had been observing you the whole time you were there. he watched every single move you made, infatuated with you. the way your pretty lips pouted as you listened to the ai voice explain the rules of the game, how you slowly ate your food all alone on your bed, how quiet and observant you were, he watched it all. he spent most of the time wondering; what’s a pretty, young, innocent thing like you doing in a place like this?

now, you laid in your bed quietly, the soft glow from the piggy bank being the only thing illuminating the room. the sound of rustling sheets and footsteps was the only thing you could hear. however, and you quickly learned this, peace isn't a forever thing in here. low noises and slow footsteps quickly turned into chaos and violence as everyone around you started screaming, bed frames falling and people being attacked left and right. scared and confused, you bolted out of your bed, trying to quietly make your away to a corner.

you practically jumped out of your skin when young-il grabbed your hand, turning you around quickly and guiding you to the front of the room. you weren't sure what his intention was, but the thought of him saving you kept replaying in your mind, so you followed along.

when you got to the door, he gestured to a guard to use the restroom. the guard suspiciously instantly opened the door and young-il ran with you through the halls and into the restroom, shoving you into a stall and locking the door.

you breathed heavily as you leaned against the stall wall, making eye contact with young-il. his hair was ruffled and messy, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, and his breathing was heavy. you took a moment to take in the way he was looking at you. a lustful, yet loving look adorned his face as he stared at you, eyes running up and down your frame.

“are you alright?” he finally spoke, his breathing slowing down as he walked towards you. you nodded softly, a blush creeping up on your face as you looked down. “it’s crazy out there. you could’ve gotten hurt, y/n. you should’ve come to me.” his tone sounded genuine and you lifted your head to look at him, nodding softly again. “i, i know mister. thank you” you whispered softly. young-il could have sworn you were an angel the way you spoke so softly to him, your pretty eyes never leaving his face. a small smile spread on his lips as he nodded, sitting down on the toilet.

you watched as you picked at your fingers nervously, the chaos outside of the bathroom becoming louder. young-il spoke your name softly, barely a whisper. your eyes met his as he patted on his thigh, a nod of encouragement following. “c’mere. sit with me.” he said, his eyes scanning your face for any hint of discomfort. a blush crept up your face as you obliged, walking towards him and lowering yourself onto his lap. his arms wrapped around your waist as you straddled him, your soft hands resting on his shoulders.

“young-il” you gasped softly as you felt his bulge in between your thighs, slowly rocking your hips back and forth. “it’s inho” he says, “my name, it’s inho.” you stop moving and look at him, confusion evident on your face. “w-what?” you whisper, your eyebrows furrowing. “i used a fake name in case anyone tried to hurt me.” he said. you nodded slowly, not entirely convinced but too aroused to care. you repeated his name, the word foreign on your tongue as his warm hands move onto your ass cheeks. you let out a whimper as you feel him squeeze, encouraging you to keep moving. you felt your arousal soak your underwear as you moved against his bulge, hands creeping up to his hair.

“let me make you feel good sweetheart.” he whispered into your ear, listening to your soft whimpers and in pure bliss at the way you tugged at his hair. you let out a soft moan in response, leaning in and closing the distance between you. inho wasted no time in kissing you back, tongue slowly forcing its way into your mouth to tangle with yours. he smiles into the kiss, pre cum leaking onto his boxers when he feels you grind harder. you gasp into the kiss when you feel inho lift you up and place you on the ground, breaking the kiss and tugging at your tracksuit pants. you look up at him, the desperate look in your eyes telling him everything he needs to know. he slowly lowers himself onto his knees, taking your tracksuit pants and underwear off in the process. you step out of the pile of clothes on the ground and inho gestures to your shirt, watching silently with lust-filled eyes as you slowly slid your jacket off. you shakily grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it, sliding the sweaty material off your body and onto the floor.

you closed your thighs together, feeling embarrassment wash over you. inho let out a low laugh at how sweet you looked. "let me see you baby." he said, carefully lifting one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder, his slow movements leaving you aroused with anticipation. he groaned at the sight of your glistening pussy, pupils dilated and mouth watering. "you've got such a pretty pussy sweetheart, you've really been hiding this from me all this time?" inho teased, a small smirk on his lips as he looked up at you. he licked his thumb and brought it to your clit, rubbing soft slow circles and he could've sworn he could die happily just hearing the noises that left your lips. he placed soft kisses along your inner thigh and your breathing became heavier. "inho p-please" you managed to whimper out, hands tangling in his hair and his eyes never leaving yours. "please what baby? use your words." he groaned softly, taking in your scent and how wet you were. "please do something" you pleaded, attempting to push his head into your pussy

inho took his thumb off your clit and replaced it with his tongue, flicking and kitten-licking at it. your hands tugged at his hair as whimpers and moans left your lips, feeling his left hand move up your body and settle on the sports bra you had on. he tugged it down, freeing your breasts as his other hand crept up your thigh and he prodded his middle finger at your entrance. you felt his finger slowly enter you as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking then licking. you couldn't contain the moans that left your lips and how your legs shook as inho sucked on your clit, the sensation unlike anything you've ever felt. inho moved his finger in and out of your pussy, your tight and wet walls sucking him back in. he added another finger in, his movements speeding up and he tugged and pinched at your nipples with his other hand. your eyes rolled back as you brought a hand up to your chest and placed it on top of his, guiding it to your other breast. "inho oh fuck- d-don't stop" you moaned, feeling his tongue and fingers move faster. his eyes never left yours as he continued his assault on your pussy, the sinful sounds of your wetness echoing through the bathroom walls.

"m'gonna cum" you moaned, hands gripping inho's hair and your legs shook violently, his tongue now slowly circling your clit. "go on angel, cum for me." he said, immediately dipping his head back down to suck on your clit, eyes never leaving yours. he continued to tug and roll your nipple between his fingers, and with one final lick to your clit, the coil in your stomach snapped. stars danced in your vision as you loudly moaned, grinding your finger-filled pussy on inho's face. he placed one last kiss on your now sensitive clit, and retreated his fingers from your pussy. inho got up off his knees and stood in front of you, bringing his cum-coated fingers to his mouth. he sucked at his fingers, cleaning your arousal off of them and inhaling sharply at your taste. you watched him with half-lidded eyes, trying to catch your breath. "you taste so fucking good princess." he said, lips ghosting over yours. he pressed a small kiss to your lips, a smirk never leaving his. he broke off the kiss, wiping his now-clean fingers off with toilet paper. you slowly bent over and grabbed your discarded clothes, quietly dressing yourself as inho watched.

when you walked out of the bathroom, inho's grip on your hand could practically cut off your circulation. he led you through the halls until you stopped in front of a door. he turned to look at you, an unreadable expression on his face while a confused one appeared on yours. as if on cue, you felt a hand come up behind you and press a cloth against your face. your surroundings blurred as your body became limp, the last thing you were able to see being inho's cold, unreadable, face.

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) / づ♡ mwuah!

click here!

#squid game smut #squid game #hwang in ho #hwang inho smut #hwang inho x reader #squid game x reader #fanfic

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sonarspace · 8 months ago

Text

INK & SKIN (FT. CHOSO & GETO)

synopsis. who better to give you your first tattoo than choso's roommate, who walked in on you and choso a week ago. (can be read with or without the prequel) wc. 2.7k content. college au. choso x reader. geto x reader. choso x geto. choso x geto x reader. 3söme. ōral (deep thrōat. cūnnilingus.) slight vōyeurism. slight ëxhibitionism. unprotėcted. and just messy.

it had been a few days since the party, and you found yourself spending almost every night with choso, wrapped up in each other as if the world outside didn’t exist. tonight was no different; the warmth of his body against yours felt intoxicating.

as your fingers traced over the intricate designs of his chest tattoo, a thought crossed your mind. “you know, i’ve always wanted to get a tattoo,” you said softly, your eyes drifting over the ink.

choso raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming. “my roommate's a tattoo artist. i could take you to his shop.”

it was late, the kind of quiet that made you feel like the world was pausing just for you. choso walked beside you, flipping the "closed" sign on the door as you both entered the shop. your eyes scanned the room until they landed on none other than geto—headphones on, working on a stencil.

you froze. shit. it was him. the same guy who walked in on you and choso, his heated gaze still lingering in your mind.

“i think he’s busy, let’s go,” you muttered, turning away, but choso chuckled.

“he doesn’t bite,” choso teased.

before you could make a move, geto pulled out his headphones, casually greeting both of you. “hey,” he said to choso. his gaze furrowed as it landed on your back. choso nudged you to turn around, and geto’s eyes widened slightly, recognition dawning. it’s her. he swallowed hard, the memory of that night flashing in his mind. “hey…” your name slipped from his lips, voice smooth as silk.

geto stood up, the sound of his chair scraping lightly against the floor as he moved. he walked over, extending a hand first to choso with a casual smile, then to you. his fingers were cool against your skin as he shook your hand, his eyes holding yours for just a second longer than necessary. “nice to meet you... officially,” he said.

choso leaned back against the counter, watching the exchange with a smirk playing at his lips. “so, think you can fit her in tonight?” he asked, clearly enjoying himself.

geto’s gaze flickered from choso back to you, a slow smile forming. “i think i’ve got time for her,” he replied, turning toward his station. “what were you thinking of getting?”

your heart pounded as you tried to focus, but all you could think of was that night—his eyes meeting you in the mirror, the way he’d watched.

you hesitated for a moment, glancing at choso, who gave you an encouraging nod. “i was thinking about something small. maybe somewhere hidden, like on my ribs or hips,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

geto nodded, pulling out a sketchpad. “i can draw something up for you. any ideas?”

as you described what you had in mind, you noticed the way he focused, his brows furrowing slightly as he concentrated. there was something magnetic about him, drawing you in.

“i think i can work with that,” he finally said, a thoughtful expression on his face. he began sketching, his pencil moving across the paper.

as geto worked on the design, sketching a few different styles, choso moved closer to you. he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. “are you nervous?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, humming lowly. “i can feel your pulse racing,” he murmured, his lips lingering against your skin. “just calm down. geto’s good at his job.”

you tried to steady your breath, but his touch only made it harder.

geto finished up, glancing over at you and choso, a smirk playing on his lips. “you two look cozy,” he teased. “you can lie down here and let me know where you want it.”

you took a deep breath, your heart racing as you settled onto the tattoo table. “i’d like it on my hip,” you confirmed, glancing up at him.

geto nodded, motioning for you to pull up your shirt slightly. “here?” he asked, placing the stencil just above the peeking band of your pink lacey underwear. the design featured two heart-shaped cherries, intertwining with delicate vines, with the words stems of love written in tiny lettering.

as geto prepped the tattoo gun, choso leaned closer, his presence warm and reassuring. “you’re going to be fine,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze just as the needle touched your skin.

the initial sting made you flinch, but choso’s fingers ran through your hair, his touch calming you. “focus on me,” he murmured. you locked eyes with him, feeling the rhythmic buzz of the gun and the gentle pressure of geto’s hand on your thigh as he began outlining the design.

choso leaned in closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he pressed soft kisses against your neck. every brush of his lips sent shivers racing down your spine. you could feel geto’s eyes on you, and when he shot you that teasing smile, your heart skipped a beat. the buzz of the needle was a wild mix of pain and pleasure, heightening your senses. you bit your lip, feeling the needle glide over your skin while choso’s lips left a trail of warmth against your neck.

“you’re doing great,” geto said, glancing up from his work. the corners of his mouth lifted into a smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of you caught between pleasure and a hint of pain. “i can see you like all this attention, huh?”

“you have no idea,” choso chimed in, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you. you playfully smacked his hand, narrowing your eyes at him.

geto chuckled. “i think she loves it, choso. look at that cute little blush.” he glanced up from the tattoo, then returned his focus to his work.

as geto resumed, you shot choso a sly look and mouthed, “you’re evil.”

but you were hyper-aware of geto’s elbow pressed against your thigh, not too far from where the wetness was growing. choso’s eyes flicked down, a chuckle escaping his lips as he noticed you squeezing your thighs together.

choso smirked, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “someone’s getting a bit restless,” he said playfully. you shot him an indignant look, but the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

geto glanced up. “you’re distracting her,” he said.

“just making sure she’s comfortable,” choso replied, his eyes twinkling. “can’t let my girl get too worked up, right?”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your cheeks only deepened.

“want me to make you feel good?” choso asked, his voice dropping low and sultry. before you could process his words, he moved behind the table, leaning down so his face was upside down, locked on yours. he gripped your jaw gently, his thumb brushing your lips.

you tried so hard not to squirm, to stay still as geto almost finished working on your tattoo.

“we can multitask,” choso murmured against your lips. his eyes flicked to geto’s hand as he finished the last details of the tattoo. choso's lips paused above yours as geto spoke up.

“all done”. he cleaned up, wrapping your new ink. you whispered, “want him to join us”.

choso’s smile widened as he glanced up at geto, both of them exchanging silent words. you sat up, your heart racing, with both of them now flanking you on either side. the intensity of their gazes made you want to sink into the ground—or more so, want them to sink into your holes and fill you up. “fuck,” you half-whined, crossing your legs as both of them looked down at you, matching chuckles escaping their lips.

geto tilted your chin toward him, tipping your head up to kiss you while choso pressed a kiss against your neck. you whined into geto's mouth, and choso smiled against your skin, trailing kisses from your neck to geto's neck.

you felt the world around you fade away, leaving just the three of you lost in the intimacy of it all.

geto’s grip tightened on the back of choso’s neck, pulling him closer as he joined the kiss. choso leaned in, their lips brushing against yours and each other’s, making you press against them. both of their hands moved over your front, palming your tits.

you pulled back from the kiss, gripping both their necks, forcing them to kiss each other while their hands roamed over your tits, squishing and teasing. leaning back on your arms, a moan escaped your lips as you pressed your knees into their crotches, feeling their growing hardness against you, fueling the heat building between the three of you.

they pulled away from the kiss, the three of you chuckling as your eyes locked. you slid off the table, standing between them. fingers fumbled with buttons and zippers as you helped each other strip away layers, laughter mixing with the heat of the moment. clothes hit the floor in a messy heap, walking the line between what was and what was about to be.

choso pulled you closer, lips crashing against yours, hands roaming your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he deepened the kiss.

your head spun, his taste intoxicating. geto’s body brushed against you, breath hot against your ear as he pressed kisses over your earlobe, licking the shell and pulling your hair back to shower kisses along your neck. his hands slid down to your panties, pushing your leg to angle you further apart while choso devoured your mouth.

“on your knees, choso,” he drawled. choso complied, pulling down your panties as he sank to his knees.

“grind on his face.” his voice dripped with authority— you’d jump off a cliff if he asked.

choso’s hands gripped your thighs, tugging you forward to sit on his face. geto watched, a smirk on his lips, as you tangled your fingers in choso’s hair, doing exactly as you were told.

with a slight tug, geto positioned himself behind choso, pulling him away from your slick heat to let a glob of his saliva drip onto choso’s tongue. “fuck it into her,” he commanded.

choso wasted no time, pushing his tongue between your folds and past that tight clench, mixing geto's saliva with your arousal. you rolled your eyes back, falling forward, one hand gripping the tattoo bed, the other clutching geto’s arms.

geto guided your hand down to the hardness in his boxers, letting you feel him. he tugged it down, and you moaned at the sight of him—slightly curved, flushed, such a pretty red. you wanted nothing more than to take him into your mouth.

leaning forward, you wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking it slowly. the weight made you dizzy, thoughts swirling around how he would feel buried deep inside you.

your hand slid up and down his shaft, and the way he twitched under your touch made your heart race. you leaned in closer, pressing soft kisses along the tip, feeling the warmth radiate against your lips. you wanted him—needed him—so badly that it made your mouth water.

“fuck, you’re driving me insane,” geto breathed, and you looked up to see the heat pooling in his gaze. with a teasing smile, you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his head, savoring the salty pre-cum that dripped from him.

the sound of choso’s hungry moans vibrated against your core, slick pooling between your thighs and on the sides of his face. choso gripped your thighs tighter, tugging you closer as his tongue flicked at your sensitive clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

“just like that,” geto encouraged, his voice thick with lust. “keep going.”

you obeyed, bobbing your head up and down on geto’s cock while choso worshiped your pussy. the air around you was filled with slurping sounds and moans, echoing through the tattoo parlor.

“god, you taste so fucking good,” choso groaned, and you felt your core tighten at his words. you could sense the urgency in his movements, the way he desperately tried to push you closer to the edge.

“just a little more,” geto coaxed, fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you deeper. you complied, relaxing your throat.

then, suddenly, choso pulled away from your cunt. he shifted, pushing his mouth between geto's thighs. he focused on geto's balls, sucking gently while flicking his tongue against them.

“f-fuck,” geto stammered, his breath hitching. the feeling of choso's mouth working so eagerly drove him wild. in a moment of pure instinct, he bucked his hips forward, pushing deeper into your mouth.

you gagged, the pressure overwhelming as you struggled to take him fully.

geto pulled you off his cock, a lustful glint in his eyes. “get back on the table,” he commanded, guiding you to sit back on the tattoo bed. choso adjusted his position behind geto, pressing kisses along his back and shoulders.

geto moved between your thighs, his mouth watering at the sight of you. “no wonder choso’s barely home,” he groaned, diving into your soaked folds.

the moment his tongue made contact, you gasped, back arching as geto began to devour you. his mouth moved hungrily, drinking you in as if you were the sweetest nectar.

choso watched, mesmerized by the way you writhed under geto's touch. before you could comprehend it, two tongues were stimulating your cunt, overwhelming your senses.

your hands tangled in their hair, pulling them closer as one tongue plunged into you and the pressed at your clit. you felt that sweet release building, threatening to spill over. geto's fingers flicked at your sensitive nipple, making you whimper.

with a desperate cry, you came, your body shaking as the orgasm rippled through you. they lapped at you like starved men, alternating between kissing your soppy cunt and each other. you could barely pull away, feeling overstimulated.

they both pulled away, breathless, their lips glistening with your release. leaning up, their mouths met yours in a messy, wet kiss that tasted of you.

hands tangled in each other's hair, you all deepened the kiss, tongues sliding against one another. spit spilled from the corners of your mouths as you breathed each other in, soft whines escaping your throats, blending into one another.

geto pulled back, lifting you with ease as he guided you to the couch. you sank into the cushions, and he knelt between your thighs while choso settled beside you, sitting on his knees on the couch. gripping geto’s chin, choso pulled him toward his cock. as geto began thrusting into you, he found a steady rhythm, and choso mirrored it, fucking geto’s mouth in sync. geto pushed deeper inside you while choso tugged at his hair, urging him to take more.

the room was thick with the messy sounds of pleasure—sloshing, gagging, moaning, and the sharp slap of skin meeting skin. geto's cock slid deeper inside you, perfectly in sync with choso fucking his mouth. choso gripped your chin, kissing you softly as he whispered, “such a sweet girl, taking him so well.” your moan vibrated against his lips, completely lost in the pleasure.

"suguru,” you cried out, your voice trembling as the tight coil inside you snapped. your body tightened around geto, spilling a low, needy groan, muffled by choso’s cock.

he pulled out of you, his mouth slipping off of choso’s length. both of them watched in awe as your cunt fluttered, drenched in your juices. the sight of you, head laid back on the couch, breathless, had them both groaning in unison. without breaking eye contact, the two raven-haired men stroked themselves, hot, sticky ropes spilling across your stomach and thighs, coating your skin in a messy sheen of white.

they let out soft, satisfied groans as they came down from their highs, fingers grazing over the mess they’d made. with a smirk, they brought their slicked fingers to your lips. you eagerly sucked them clean, gripping their wrists tightly, eyes rolling back at the mixed taste of you and them.

they moved closer, their lips pressing against yours, tongues intertwining in a hot, messy kiss. you all let out amused chuckles as you fumbled to connect. you pull back, looking between them with a soft smile as you stroke their cheeks, whispering, “my pretty boys.” the affection in your voice makes them both grin.

an. might be my last kinktober fic until 31st oct cause my schedule's getting really hectic *cries* more kinktober fics -> here! ⸝⸝ reblogs, likes & comments are appreciated

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m-ayo-o · 8 months ago

Text

soft sukuna !!! <3 nsfw; abstaining from sex until he realises his baby has a little praise kink!!

"sukuna.. i can't.."

you tell him with a small pout on your lips.

after last time you thought he might be more careful, maybe showing you a little mercy. but no.

your boyfriend wants to fuck, and it seems that he won't be giving up on that idea anytime soon.

"why not?" he grunts his reply, nipping at your earlobe with his body pressed against yours.

your cheeks burn with the feeling of his voice in your ear.

but you squeeze his leg and push on him, creating a small gap between your bodies.

"told you.. already.."

your eyes focus everywhere but his, while his explore your entire body as you squirm beneath him.

"mmh" he vocalises that he doesn't care about what you just said, bringing his hand under your chin to tilt your face up.

"tell me again"

your eyes dart around, then are forced into contact with his.

he gives you a deep, hard stare. maroon irises never leaving yours.

his thumb starts to tug at your bottom lip with impatience.

however much you know he's doing this to humiliate you, or for his own gratification, you don't want him to lose his patience.

"too.." your eyes dip away from his one more time. he gives your chin an encouraging squeeze, a hint of a smirk showing on his lips.

"too big.."

you admit it. again.

that you're abstaining from sex because he hurt you so bad last time that you're scared to do it.

you've been resisting for a whole week!

and damn, it's getting difficult to deny his advances now it's been that long. with him in close proximity, every day, teasing you.

he knows you want it.

but he also knows that it will hurt you.

so he's been working on wearing you down until you start to enjoy the stinging sensation of a cock that's just too big for your tight little hole.

he's going to get you there eventually.

he knows you already enjoy mild pain...

spanking, love bites, grabbing, choking.

but he never knew it would end up like this.

"i'll go easy on you.." he promises, lips moving closer to yours.

you try to back up but your head is still caught in his grasp.

"uh uh. not today sweetheart"

he's let you get away from him a few times this week; slipping through his fingers with a lie in the form of an excuse.

"you don't need to make excuses with me"

his eyes can pick apart your lies in any case. you know there's no point.

"i want to make you feel good"

your lip is between your teeth, eyes wide, your brain scrambling to consider what you're being offered right now.

he's bending over backwards to ensure you get a good fuck.

can you trust him?

"nnghh- su-sukuna-"

you lie back on the bed with his cock nudging at your sweet entrance.

that's where he wants to be.

he's got tunnel vision now.

after he gave you one orgasm with his fingers, to loosen you up, he couldn't wait any longer.

the way your pussy gripped over his fingers made him seethe with anger that his cock wasn't deep inside you, coated with your slick.

"ughh-" he sighs out, black ink hooking over his heaving chest.

he's getting so impatient now and you really need him to calm down or he's going to hurt you again.

this is how it always happens.

a kind of aggression takes over his body when he gets like this.

angry that your pussy won't let him in.

angry that he can give you pleasure with his fingers.

with his mouth.

but oh no, that's not what he wants.

he wants you cumming on his cock.

and that's what he's going to get.

regaining his composure, his eyes focus on your body again.

crimson meets pretty pink, the shade of your flushed pussy lips.

and he stares intently, smoothing his hands over your tummy.

"calm down, sweetheart"

he hums, sounding almost caring.

"i need you to relax for me, ok?"

you nod and place a hand around one of his wrists.

"please.. can i hold your hand?" you ask, batting your lashes.

ugh. this lovey dovey shit makes his blood boil.

but for you?

"sure, princess"

his fingers lace with yours, palms together, pressed to the pillow.

he takes a few deep breaths, encouraging you to do the same, as your body eases up and starts to relax, just like he asked.

"good girl" he coos, squeezing your hand gently.

he feels your pussy flutter gently against his tip, that's pressed hard and leaking on your wet body.

without realising what he's doing, only understanding that you like this- the way he's talking to you right now- he suddenly learns that you need him to reassure you.

you want him to be soft and gentle with you.

so that's what he's going to give you.

"that's it, baby," his voice is so calm and soothing, you listen to every word with your eyes glistening.

"you're doing so well, i just need you to open up for me, okay?"

the sinister, curling rasp is almost lost from his voice, being replaced by a tone so unfamiliar you question that this is really your man above you right now.

"s- sukuna?"

"uh huh?" he looks up from your pussy, where your bodies are connecting with strings of your wetness, to your pretty face.

oh god, your gorgeous face.

and for once, you don't look scared of him.

you're smiling at him; you look excited.

fuck that's got him going more than he'd like to admit.

"thank you.." your eyes sparkle with that pretty smile and he swears he can't help that feeling deep in his chest.

he supresses an eye roll and nudges his forehead against yours.

you know you better watch it with the romantic stuff or he might change his mind.

but for now, he's got you. and you've got him.

he presses on your thigh, opening your legs wider, and he starts moving his hips.

the smooth, thick tip of his cock glides into you.

"fuck-" he sighs over your lips, feeling as shocked as you.

that shouldn't have been so easy.

but it was.

"well done, baby.." he coos, rewarding you with a tender kiss.

"think you can take a little more for me?"

a little? sure.

"uh huh," you nod, eager to please this kind, sweet side of your man.

"good.." the tone of his voice makes you melt into the cushions that he placed under you, for your comfort.

your body feels so open to him right now, he pushes a little further.

hips sliding smoothly closer.

"nghh- ah-" the noises come out of your throat without thinking, your free hand landing on the back of his head where the dark hair of his undercut meets his neck.

"good?" he pushes you to answer, his smirk growing wider.

and you can't lie to him, it feels amazing.

"y-yes.."

he can feel your hand squeezing on his and he knows you're ready for more.

a few more inches.

"thaat's it, baby" he eases it in, your legs opening wider and hooking around his back.

god he thought he understood what you liked so well?

hot, passionate, rough sex.

yeah, it's great. it's fun.

but every now and then even the kinkiest girls need a break.

"nearly all the way, sweetheart" his voice finds your ears again when you're feeling so close to bliss already.

he peers down between your bodies, getting hot and messy, his abs rubbing against your soft, plushy stomach, and he realises how close you are to taking him whole.

the sight of that makes his cock swell and throb, sending another wave of pure ecstasy through you.

"easy, easy baby--"

he draws in a sharp breath and you can see him struggling, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

"can feel you squeezing me... tight.." he moans.

"gonna.. go all the way in now, ok?"

you nod and he leans down over you, pressing his lips to your neck with his arms caging you in. your hands find his shoulders, his back, his hair, anything to grab onto.

"uhh- baby.."

he chokes out, feeling the warmth of your pussy over his whole cock.

"took all of me.. fuck.."

his hips start moving slowly, in tandem with the strings of disbelieving sighs that flow out of his mouth.

"you're not hurting, huh?"

he checks, pulling himself all the way out before sinking right back in again when you shake your head.

he sees your eyes roll back, your hand clasping over your mouth to suppress a loud whimper.

"d-doesn't hurt- at all--" you manage to get out between your heavy, pleasured breaths as he eases himself in and out of you.

"good," he looks down at your expression- seeing his girl like this makes his heart swell. he needs to tell you.

"good girl"

that will have to do for now.

feeling your whole body reaction to his praise is good enough.

next time maybe he'll surprise you with a few more words...

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #sukuna x you

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cherrychilli · 3 months ago

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18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, established relationship, PIV sex, period sex!!! you've been warned. WC: 3.8K

A/N: Still alive. Still writing filth. Well, trying to at least. Finally managed to finish one of these so, enjoy!

His brow furrowed at the same time that his smile deflated to form a frown.

Steve had found you exactly as he had left you – curled up on your side on the couch with your eyes squinting at the TV screen. Your arms are still wound around your stomach boa constrictor tight too, your trembling lips parted enough to let out the occasional groan or shaky whimper.

Though the sight of you like this is enough to make him feel concerned, he's relieved to spot the empty plate dusted with sandwich crumbs resting on the coffee table. Even if it did sit a little too close to the edge for his comfort, it let him know that you'd upheld your promise to eat something while he was away at work.

Taking a few quiet steps closer into the living room, Steve approaches you from behind and leans over the back of the couch to get a better look at you, his shadow stretching long to cloak you from the light coming off the TV.

"Any better?", he asks gently in lieu of a hello, slipping the question between laugh tracks as another episode of The Golden Girls commenced on screen. Your comfort show.

Steve watches patiently as you turn much too slowly and carefully to meet his eye from over your shoulder. That's when he notices how glassy they've become, unshed tears growing fatter and fatter behind your lash line, verging on spilling down your puffy cheeks. A little pout pushes your lightly chapped lips out too, mustering up enough strength to shake your head ‘no’.

Steve’s heart always hung heavy in his chest whenever he saw you like this, all pained and panting. Wanting to be closer to you, he rounds the couch and gladly takes the hand you unwind from around your sore belly and hold out to him, encouraging him to sit beside you.

To the relief of you both, there's no awkward fidgeting or clueless gestures exchanged at this stage of your relationship when Steve takes a seat. Instead, he moves with the quiet confidence of someone whose been through this very situation enough times to know exactly how to soothe you. To begin, he carefully gathers you into his lap, not wanting to trigger any more pinching pain or another cramping crick that might shoot up your back whip crack quick.

Your mood begins to shift for the first time that day, perking up as you let him cradle you, nuzzling into his chest as you settle sideways in his lap. He doesn't even have to question you when he feels your fingers circling his wrist either, letting you pluck his hand and guide it underneath your t-shirt. Steve remembers to spread his warm fingers over as much of the soft skin of your belly as possible, smiling when he sees you sigh with some relief.

He'd sit there all night with you like this if not for the little plastic shopping bag you’re yet to notice still grasped in his other hand. The shifty little sound it makes when he shakes it five minutes later draws your attention once you’ve made yourself comfortable in his lap. You blink your eyes open, curiously squinting at the bag and its familiar logo printed on the front.

"Figured I'd stop by the pharmacy before I headed home. Just to be safe", Steve explains with a kind smile, pretty crescent dimples making impressions on his cheeks. The thoughtful gesture is enough to make your body turn warm with adoration.

"So, I've got pain killers and heating pads and– ‘want me to open one up for you?", Steve offers before he lists the rest and you make sure to match his smile with one of your own that's just as sweet before you politely decline. "Can I use your hands a little longer?", you ask instead, practically purring from the way his large palm rests on you. "It feels so nice".

Once again, you're reminded of how lucky you are to have him when Steve's eyes catch the light and glitter like they always do when he does something you like. Just like a labrador lighting up at the sight of a bone.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course", he answers, so eager to please. He frees his hand by setting the bag down, once again letting you wrap your smaller fingers around his wrist and pull it closer to your chest.

You place it over your left breast and without needing to tell him how, Steve settles into a routine he's pretty much memorized by now. He grasps the shape of your breast under your t-shirt and begins massaging it gently like he’s done so many times before, aware of how sore they get when you're on your period, switching over to the other sensitive breast and then back again to the first for more.

He can tell that he's touching you the right way when he's treated to the sounds you begin to let slip out, contented sighs and soft groans, even that pinched little space between your eyebrows becomes lax enough to turn your face into a picture of bliss.

"Pills didn't do much today did they?", he guesses, earning another shake of your head.

"Neither did the hot water bottle?", he asks when he spies it lying on the carpet by the couch, knowing full well it'd probably been discarded there out of frustration.

"Just made me feel sweaty and gross", you whined back softly in reply.

"Is this helping? what I'm doing?", he asks hopefully.

"Yes, still crampy but It's already better having you hold me", you tell him sincerely, adjusting yourself in his lap so that your lips can reach his cheek and show your gratitude with a quick peck.

The next few minutes that pass with you perched on his lap is the closest you've felt to relief, his hands soothing your sensitive skin and much of the pain you'd dealt with all day.

Though not all of it.

Despite all Steve's done he can't quite snuff the pain out for you through touch alone. Your cramps continue to jab and twist and flare angrily inside you, less frequently but just as unpleasant as they had been this morning.

"Um, so listen", he clears his throat abruptly, noticing your unyielding discomfort.

When you look up at Steve you can almost feel the way his thoughts are stirring rapidly in his head, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip in the same way he does when he's deep in thought.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else I could do?", he asks eventually.

You think on it for a few short moments, shrugging when nothing comes to mind.

" I don't know... like what?"

---

"You really don't think it's gross?", you check for the third time, bare thighs squeezing together as if they were bound under lock and key. "We don't even know if it'll work", you add nervously, afraid of the kind of mess you're making on the towel that's been placed under you. At least the charcoal cotton will hide most of it. You hope.

Steve pops back into sight at the sound of your wavering voice, his hair messily fluffed up in all directions from pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it into a corner of the bedroom floor. He cranes his neck and rests his stubbled chin on your knees as your heels dig deeper into the mattress. "Baby" he sighed, smiling. Loving and reassuring all in one exhale of breath that tickles your perspiring skin. "It's not gross. You know that", he squeezes your thighs reassuringly, climbing over your bent legs to kiss you quick and thaw your inhibitions.

"I just want to make my poor, sore girl feel better".

The way he says it is enough to make you feel your heart beat between your legs.

It's nothing new. Your hormones have always had a nasty habit of kicking your libido up more than a few notches whenever it was your time of the month. But this was new territory for the both of you. As much as you would have liked to in the past, you never let Steve get this far before, never acting on the urge to have him be the one to pleasure you while you bled. You usually saw to that persistent ache on your own, always in private and in the shower without Steve's involvement.

And while it was him who insisted on 'helping' you today, part of you couldn’t stop worrying if he'd really desire you as you are right now. If maybe his sweet intentions to make you feel better had gotten the best of him.

All of that and more swarming thoughts had you questioning if maybe letting him get this far was a mistake. If maybe you ought to stop him now before it’s too late, your mind becoming a winding spiral of uncertainty but that was until you felt it – an unmistakable firmness brushing against your hip while Steve helped you out of your clothes.

It made your cheeks burn hot to know that Steve’s bulge had turned swollen and hard because of you, contained behind his boxers for the time being but still very evident as he tenderly laid you down on your back again, effectively quietening some of the doubts that howled sonorously inside your head.

It makes your knees tremble next when he places his large hands on each one, gently encouraging you to let him pull them apart and see what lies between your legs.

To you, letting your legs come apart for him feels too much like you’re stepping off the steepest ledge and plummeting into a freefall. Your heart shoots up out of your ribcage and into your narrow throat, your eyes squeezing shut because you can't handle watching how your boyfriend will react.

Your weak, jelly knees make it all the easier for him to peel them apart and once he does, the blood in your veins freezes over when all that elapses is silence. Not one single word out of Steve.

Each second ticks by as painfully as the last, like scraping bone until you try to clamp your legs shut once again but Steve's too quick for you, keeping your legs pried open with his hands placed firmly on your inner thighs.

"Oh sweetheart...", is all you hear him utter, a deep, raspy rumble that curls up and out of his throat like a lazy tendril of smoke. “Just needed a moment to really look at you, pretty thing”

You make a noise too, somewhere between a gasp and a hiccup when you feel his course fingers graze your bloody folds. It's enough to make you force one eye open as he pulls them apart to observe the bleeding between your legs.

Carefully you read every little expression that dawns on his face, relieved when you notice that Steve doesn't wince. He doesn't flinch. And he doesn't turn away from the sight of your blood, completely unblinking and focused. Maybe even a little enamored if you were to guess by the way his lips lift up into another smile.

You feel it’s safe enough to ease both eyes open now and fix them on Steve as he watches you quietly and closely back. This time his silence has the opposite effect on you. Instead of frigid, piercing worry, you shudder warmly with sunny excitement while he explores you.

His gaze descends the length of your body to find a moderate amount of blood on your inner thighs. You know because you can feel the warm, thick stains cooling on your skin, smudged there like wine stains and brush strokes painting your body. It’s what pulls his focus first, his eyes lingering there before they roam between your puffy folds and over to your hole. There he finds you leaking with a glossy crimson mix of blood and slick. Bringing his face closer to it, he's able to tell that your scent's different now too. Sharper. More coppery underneath your usual soft musk. The way his mouth pulls up into a broader smile tells you that he likes it just as much.

"Can't believe we didn't try this sooner", he tells you playfully with a waggle of his eyebrows though you know he's being very sincere as you both recall all the times you’d laid in bed and in pain whenever you were menstruating.

Out of habit you very nearly ask him a fourth time if he's absolutely certain he wants to be intimate with you while you're bleeding but you’re able to stop abruptly before you can get the question past your lips, suddenly hit with a much-needed wave of clarity.

This was Steve. A man no stranger to a little blood. Be it a split lip, a blackened eye or a broken nose among other bones. The same Steve who took a bite out of a writhing demobat and spit its filthy viscera out at his dirty feet, its thick blood tainting his pearly teeth with an angry snarling red.

He's never cowered at the sight of blood before. So why would he start now? why would he when it means getting to be with you in a whole new way? when it means getting to make love to you and give you some much needed relief?

"Looks like my girl's ready now", he winks at you knowingly.

You can feel the pure magnetism practically radiating off of him like puffs of hot steam, shedding his boxers off quickly to join you in the nude. Watching his erection spring free and thwack against his lower stomach makes your tummy flutter and flip especially when you notice the splash of precum it leaves behind on his blushing skin.

He wanted you, very much and there was no way to deny it, making you feel both eager and a little silly about how you'd fussed earlier so self-consciously.

It made you feel sexy again too. Desirable during a time you didn't consider yourself as such. With your confidence sprouting again your legs make more space for him, inviting him closer before your ankles lock in place behind the small of Steve's back. His rigid shaft settles snugly between your bloody folds as he teases you by rubbing the slick, spongy head of his cock against your swollen clit. He’s satisfied when he gently pulls whine after pretty whine out of you like unravelling a delicate flower bud by hand, petal by petal gently tugged open to reveal the beautiful blossom lying inside.

"Steve?"

"Yeah? this making you feel good?", he looks back up to search your face attentively.

"Can't you tell?", you roll your hips with a giggle, your clit catching on his tip and shaft perfectly though still not enough to quell your cramps and satisfy you.

"I want you to put it inside now. Please"

More than happy to oblige Steve smiles as he reaches between your bodies so he can guide his cock towards your waiting hole. You feel it first when it nudges at your entrance and you hold your breath as you always do when Steve begins to work his cock inside you, the thick tip of it making your hole give way and stretch until it's just about wide enough to let him pop inside.

For Steve It's a whirlpool of gooey warmth and buttery smoothness as he slowly feeds every veiny, throbbing inch inside you. Your silky walls stretch into the familiar shape of his cock, sucking him in and wrapping around him tight like ribbon.

You can't lie, as good as it feels, you can't quite shake one last whispering concern about how it'll look when he pulls back enough to see his cock all red with you – who wouldn’t be worried about that?

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you have a look for yourself, a cold chill spilling down your spine because it's exactly as you feared it would look. A generous coating of deep, dark syrupy red drips from Steve’s pale length but before you can attempt to convince him to please look literally anywhere else while he fucks you, you're pressed deeper back into the mattress as he leans forward to lightly pin you back in place.

"It's okay, baby. 'Can see you getting in your head again", he whispers soothingly, so close his lips brush yours.

"You need to understand that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, okay? you feel how fucking hard I am for you? it's all because of you. Now are you gonna be good for me and let me take care of you?"

For a moment, all you can do is blink back at him like you’re coming out of a daze.

The fuzz of his sweat matted chest hair tickles your nipples when you manage to nod back with a soft 'yes’. Now that your nerves have been settled for good, he leans down to let his tongue lap inside your mouth again, so gentle yet somehow still so ravenous. The kind of kiss that screams how much he wants you.

There's no more room for any doubt to encroach your mind again like a violent thunderstorm. It's clear Steve doesn't think the sight of you both connected like this is gruesome. He slips inside and out with ease and excitement, his cock gliding against your walls in a way that starts to make your head spin in the most delightful way.

"That’s my girl. Nothing better than having a sweet thing like you wrapped around my cock"

And that's how he starts to fuck you. Slow and deep. Push and pull. Your breath becoming shorter. Your eyes staring into his with longing as he begins to fuck into you more firmly when he thinks you’re ready for it, in every spot you cry out for it.

The cramps that plagued you for most of the day are practically being wrung out of your overwhelmed body, a much more pleasurable, pulsing ache taking its place instead. The sticky slap of your bodies meeting echoes within the confines of your shared bedroom, gasps and moans winding around each other like creeping vines as you climb further and further towards the peak of pleasure.

It’s a slower climb for Steve and that’s only because he’s desperately trying to maximize your pleasure before he can even think of his own climax and spilling into you. Your heels stay fixed behind his back, nudging at his spine and your teeth sink into his shoulder which while both a little uncomfortable, he wouldn’t dare dream of asking you to stop, not when the signs of your impending orgasm begin to shadow your face.

Steve delights in watching you trying to fight it off but fail to do so pitifully. Face contorting with arousal, slurring your words as you cry out his name, garbling as the smallest trail of drool leaks out the corner of your mouth. He chuckles into your neck when you fail to keep your eyes from rolling back too, hissing happily when he feels the heat of your nails raking at his biceps and back.

When you cum on Steve’s blood splattered cock your body turns electric, sparks and bolts erupting just like fireworks beneath the thin layer of your soft skin. All the throbbing, all the spasming waves of pain and soreness – gone. Driven out of your writhing body with pang after pang of pleasure, your clit fat and twitching uncontrollably between your legs.

He fucks you through it and when it begins to verge on too much, you will yourself to take the many thrusts that follow as Steve continues to hump into you, taking it like the good girl he keeps moaning that you are, mumbling nearly incoherently into your skin.

“Just a little longer – I know ,baby, I know. Just keep taking me like that, just a little more – yes…yes…yes", Steve grunts before his body starts to quake, shuddering through his own orgasm, shooting hot and sticky all he has to give you deep inside.

The feeling of it all collecting within your pussy is unlike any other that you’ve felt before and you can’t help but linger on it – exactly what your body had been crying out for all day. It’s made easier too because Steve’s body lay draped over yours, the weight of him on top of you is comforting. He keeps you plugged up nice and full with his softening cock still inside you, panting while you gently stroke the damp nape of his neck until you’re able to catch your own breath and thank him with words.

When Steve does finally unsheathe himself from you, he does so a little reluctantly, peppering you with kisses, making silly comments about how he’d rather just stay in you all night than part, have you cockwarm him till the sun comes up. You snicker in response and roll your eyes back at him playfully, eventually coaxing him and convincing him to pull out.

Slowly your combined discharge strings from his cock to your folds and pearly clit like a spider’s web, unable to tell where yours begin and his end. You still feel sensitive there too, the little bundle yet to cease throbbing and swell down after grazing perfectly against the thick hair that grew from Steve’s bellybutton to the base of his scarlet cock.

As more of it begins to leak out of you, you both look on curiously, mesmerized by its deep shade of rosy pink – such a pretty thing made by the two of you.

No longer bashful about the whole thing, you swipe a finger between your folds and closely observe the secretion on the pad of your index finger, wondering why, just an hour ago, you’d been so afraid of giving yourself to Steve like this.

Sure, it’s a mess but you don’t feel the least bit unclean. All the sweat and cum and blood – you're glad for it in fact, turning onto your side and resting your cheek on Steve's chest once he repositions onto his back, wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer.

"Better?", he asks expectantly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Better than better" you assure him, basking in the afterglow with an ever so satiated smile gracing your lips.

Steve’s got one just like it shaping his plump pink lips, placing his hands behind his head as he stares dreamily at the ceiling.

"So, six more days huh? I can get used to this"

#steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader

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vigilante-3073 · 3 months ago

Text

Daddy's Credit Card

Cullen Family x Female Vampire Reader (Platonic)

PART 10

Summary: Bella endures her transition to a Vampire while Y/N's condition continues to worsen.

TW: Mentions of death/injury/illness, lack of regard for the feelings of others, medical testing, needles, blood.

The Cullen family was left unscathed after Jacob imprinted on Renesmee. The Wolves were forced to abandon their quest to kill the child, but tensions were still high. Y/N had been released from her quarantine and had finally been allowed to move about the house freely.

She took full advantage of her newfound freedom, but there were some things that Carlisle still wouldn't allow. Y/N was not to step foot outside the house unless someone was with her. She became quickly exhausted after any kind of physical activity and her heart beat would become irregular. Carlisle was strict about her having a companion in case something were to happen.

Y/N walked along the road with Jacob Black by her side. He had been focused on Renesmee since he had imprinted, Bella was still in transition and he felt responsible for the baby girl. Jacob had been incredibly tense as he watched over Renesmee and Carlisle encouraged him to take a moment away. Jacob went reluctantly and the pair walked in silence until he looked over at her.

"Why exactly do you need a babysitter?" Jacob asked.

"I'm dying," Y/N stated simply.

"What? I thought that Vampires couldn't die unless they're torn apart," Jacob said.

"Apparently they can... I bleed, I cry, I eat and my body is falling apart for no apparent reason," Y/N said.

"That sucks," Jacob said.

Y/N huffed a laugh, "Yeah, it does," She replied.

"Still doesn't really explain why I'm following you around though," Jacob said.

"Carlisle said that my heart beat is irregular. He's worried that something could happen to me while I'm alone," Y/N stated.

"Have you left your house at all since you started becoming human?" Jacob asked.

She glared at him, "I am not a human," She corrected quickly.

"Well, whatever you are then," He amended.

"No, you and your wolf friends had my house surrounded. Remember?" Y/N questioned.

"So, you're pretty new to not being a bloodsucker then, huh?" He asked.

"I guess you could say that," She replied.

"Do you want to go into town for a bit? Maybe we can get some actual food," He offered.

"I would do anything to leave that place right now. Since Bella died, Carlisle has devoted the entirety of his time to testing me for anything he can possibly think of. Then I have to sit there and watch Edward stay by his wife as she magically comes back from the dead. Don't even get me started on that rapidly growing demon that they produced... It's like my own personal hell," Y/N said.

Jacob laughed and Y/N shot him a serious look, "I didn't realize that I said something funny," Y/N said.

"It may not be funny, but it is ironic because I was in love with Bella and I was ready to kill Edward when she died. Then I went to get the baby to hand over to the pack and in some ridiculous twist of fate, I actually imprinted on her. Now I practically live in the house with the guy I hate, the girl I used to love and their daughter," Jacob said.

"If I weren't going to die horrifically, I might actually say that you have it worse," Y/N replied.

"We're just two of the luckiest people around, huh?" He questioned, she nodded.

"Where are you taking me then?" Y/N asked.

"A diner. I'm going to get you the biggest and most greasy burger they offer along with fries and a milkshake," Jacob listed.

"All of that sounds absolutely repulsive, but I'm excited to try it," She said.

"Good," Jacob nodded.

The pair returned to the house and Y/N went up to tell Carlisle that she was leaving. She returned after a few minutes with a pair of car keys dangling from her finger.

"He said no to the motorcycle," She stated.

"Maybe another day," Jacob replied, holding out his hand.

Y/N placed the keys into his palm, "I'm definitely riding on a motorcycle before I die. I'm trusting you to make that happen," She said.

"I can definitely do that for you," Jacob assured.

They made their way down to the garage and got into one of the cars. Jacob started the car and opened the garage before driving out onto the road.

Y/N settled back into her seat as she looked out the window, "Just for my own curiosity, how long does it usually take for someone to come back from the dead?" Jacob questioned.

"Usually takes about three days. The morphine that Bella had in her system could definitely have an effect on it though," Y/N stated.

"Three days of waiting," Jacob huffed.

"At least she's not awake and screaming like the rest of us were," Y/N said.

"It hurt that badly?" Jacob asked, glancing over at her.

"The worst pain I've ever felt. It was like every nerve being scorched and having your skin peeled from your body. It was misery," She said.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," He said.

"It gave me a lifetime of pain and loneliness like I have never known before. I would have chosen death a thousand times over," Y/N replied.

"Who was it?" Jacob asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Y/N said, looking over at him.

"Who was it that broke your heart?" Jacob clarified.

Y/N hesitated, "Carlisle first and Edward second," She answered.

Jacob scoffed, "Well, with that information, you definitely earned the title of having the worst situation possible," Jacob said.

"I've always been an overachiever," She deadpanned with a smirk.

Jacob smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the diner, "Ready to eat?" He asked.

"I'm absolutely ravenous," She replied.

The pair got out of the car and made their way into the restaurant, they were sat in a booth and given a moment to look over the menu.

Y/N stared at the laminated sheet with wide eyes, finding herself overwhelmed by the options as she slowly opened the menu.

"Wow, this is a lot of stuff," She mumbled.

"Do you want me to just order for you?" Jacob questioned.

"That would be lovely," Y/N replied.

"Do you have any preference on milkshake flavor?" He asked.

"The last meal that I had as a living person was probably boiled cabbage and stale bread. You can pick whatever you want and I'm sure it will be better than anything I've ever eaten," She replied, closing the menu and sliding it to the edge of the table.

"Point taken," He nodded.

The waitress returned to their table with her notepad and pen in hand, "What can I get for you two today?" She questioned.

"For drinks, we'd like one chocolate and one vanilla milkshake. And for food, we'll get two of the bacon cheeseburgers with fries," Jacob listed.

"Perfect, I'll get that going for you," The waitress nodded, collecting the menus and moving off to the kitchen.

"Why did you get two different flavor drinks?" Y/N asked.

"So you can try both and keep whichever one you like best," Jacob shrugged.

"That's very kind of you," She said.

"It's no big deal," He replied.

"It is to me," Y/N stated.

The drinks came out quickly and the food followed shortly after. Jacob put two plastic straws into the milkshakes and slid them across the table to her.

Y/N leaned forward, taking a sip of the vanilla milkshake before moving over to the chocolate and taking another sip.

"What's the verdict?" He questioned.

"I like the lighter one more," She said, tapping a finger against the side of the first glass.

Jacob slid the chocolate milkshake back over to his side of the table, "Good choice. The vanilla one is my personal favorite," He said, taking a sip from the same straw.

"You can have it if you like it more," Y/N said, moving to slide it over to him.

"You're the one who's new to human food. You get to keep the milkshake that you like best," Jacob said, resting his hand over hers and pushing it back over to her side of the table.

They ate and chatted about their lives before reluctantly returning to the Cullen house.

"I had fun tonight. You're pretty cool for an ex-bloodsucker," Jacob said.

"I had fun too and I suppose I should say thank you," Y/N replied.

"It was definitely meant as a compliment," Jacob assured, "And you can feel free to come find me whenever you want to go on another nature walk or do something ridiculously stupid just to cross it off your bucket list," He continued.

"I will definitely take you up on that," Y/N nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow... Sleep well," He said.

"You too," Y/N replied, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

...

Y/N stood in the shower, lathering the shampoo into her hair before stepping under the water. She washed the soap from her scalp, allowing the warm water to run over her skin. Y/N lowered her arms as her heart began to race in her chest, she let out a shaky exhale and leaned into the wall.

Y/N suddenly felt lightheaded and exhausted, breathing heavily as she slid down the wall weakly. Her arms fell in front of her body limply as she leaned into the wall, eyelids fluttering as she struggled to remain conscious.

"Carlisle," She called softly, her voice was barely audible over the sound of the water.

The shower curtain was pulled back suddenly before Carlisle reached in and turned off the water. He stepped away, grabbing her robe before kneeling down next to the bathtub.

Carlisle maneuvered her body around easily, slipping her arms through the sleeves and wrapping the robe around her body. He tied the belt at her waist before slipping his arms underneath her and lifting her into his arms.

Y/N's head rested on his shoulder as she closed her eyes, head pounding as her heart raced in her chest. He carried her into her bedroom before carefully setting her down on her bed.

Carlisle brought over the vitals machine, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around her arm and placing the probe on her finger. Y/N grimaced as the cuff began to inflate, but she was far too exhausted to say anything.

"Your blood pressure is incredibly low," Carlisle stated, reaching over and resting his hand on the side of her neck.

His fingers found her pulse point easily, feeling the rapid pulsation of her heart against his fingertips.

"I don't feel good," She mumbled shakily.

"I'll get you on fluids and we'll see if that helps," Carlisle said.

Y/N closed her eyes, unable to do anything besides breathe as her body began to shiver. Carlisle returned with a bag of fluids and a primed line, hanging it up on the pole beside her bed.

"Are you cold?" He questioned, noticing the way her body trembled.

She nodded silently and Carlisle stepped into her closet, he returned with a long sleeved shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants.

"Not mine," Y/N mumbled.

"Alice thought that you should have something comfortable and warm to wear," Carlisle said, setting the items on the edge of her bed.

He helped her dry off and get dressed before getting her settled in the bed. Carlisle sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, tying the tourniquet around her arm and flexing her wrist as his eyes scanned her skin.

Carlisle cleaned her skin with an alcohol wipe before opening his needle and removing the cap. Y/N turned her head away as he pushed the needle into her vein, he held the cannula in place as he retracted the needle. He connected the tubing to the cannula quickly before laying a clear dressing on top of it.

Carlisle pressed the edges against her skin carefully before reaching up to grab his IV tubing and connecting it to her. Y/N looked over as he stood up, programming the machine and opening the roller clamps.

The fluid slowly began to drip as the infusion started, "You should try and get some rest. I'll be back to check on you in a bit," Carlisle said, she nodded.

Y/N drifted off into a dreamless sleep before Carlisle had even stepped foot into the hallway. She slept for hours, body shivering silently as she struggled to retain her warmth. Carlisle added a few more blankets on top of her, but nothing seemed to help with the icy chill that had come over her.

Carlisle slowly made his way into the living room where the family was sitting. Esme held Renesmee in her arms while Rosalie watched them with a fond smile.

"Jacob, could I borrow you for a moment?" Carlisle asked.

"Sure," He nodded, standing up from his seat and following Carlisle down the hallway.

"I have a bit of an odd request and you can refuse if it makes you uncomfortable," Carlisle said.

"What is it?" Jacob asked.

"Y/N had a bit of a medical episode tonight," Carlisle started.

"Is she okay?" Jacob questioned.

"She's fine, but she's incredibly cold and I can't seem to get her temperature up," Carlisle said.

"I can definitely help with that," Jacob nodded.

"Thank you," Carlisle replied, leading Jacob down the hallway to her bedroom.

He opened the door and stepped inside, allowing Jacob to make his way into the room before closing the door gently.

"Jeez, how many blankets do you have her buried under?" Jacob asked with a smile.

"Five, I believe," Carlisle stated.

Jacob moved around to the other side of the bed, stepping out of his boots before lifting the blankets and laying down beside her.

Jacob shifted closer to her and she turned towards him in her sleep, immediately drawn in by the heat he gave off. Jacob wrapped his arms around her and guided her body into his side.

Y/N let out a soft breath, her head resting on his chest as she soaked up his warmth, "She's freezing," Jacob muttered, rubbing his hand over her back gently.

"I'm not much help in that department, unfortunately," Carlisle said.

"Well, I got it from here," Jacob assured.

"Just be conscious of the IV and call for me if something happens," Carlisle said, Jacob nodded.

Carlisle made his way out of the bedroom, closing the door behind himself carefully. Jacob settled back into the pillows, brushing his hand over her back until he eventually drifted off to sleep beside her.

Jacob awoke when the sky was dark, he turned his head to see Carlisle standing at the bedside. He hung a new bag of fluids on the IV pole before connecting it and pressing a few buttons on the machine to restart the infusion.

Y/N stirred slightly in his arms as Carlisle programmed the pump, eyes fluttering open slowly. Her brows furrowed as she pulled away from him slightly.

"What's going on?" She mumbled.

"You were cold," Jacob replied.

"How are you feeling?" Carlisle questioned.

"I'm fine," Y/N replied, laying back down on her back beside Jacob.

"I can go if you want," Jacob offered.

"No, it's too cold in this place," She huffed, lifting the blankets up higher over her body as her teeth chattered slightly.

"Here," Jacob smiled, reaching out and pulling her closer to his side.

He wrapped his arm around her and she leaned her head back against his shoulder as his hand settled on her arm, "Better?" He questioned, she nodded and closed her eyes. Carlisle smiled softly to himself, quietly exiting the room and closing the door.

"I know you're not here for me, but I still appreciate it," Y/N said softly.

"You're probably one of the best living people in this house right now. Us humans need to stick together," Jacob said.

"Still not human," Y/N mumbled tiredly.

"Whatever you say," Jacob replied, rubbing his hand over her arm gently.

...

Carlisle opened the door to Y/N's bedroom and paused when he realized that the bed was empty. Jacob had stayed with her for a few hours before returning to the living room to be with Renesmee. She had been asleep when he last checked on her and the empty bed made him nervous.

"Y/N," Carlisle called.

"In here," Y/N replied softly.

He stepped over to the bathroom and pushed the door open, finding her sitting on the floor in front of the toilet with her back leaned against the wall. Y/N was incredibly pale with dark bags under her eyes, exhausted and weak as she looked up at him.

"Are you alright?" He questioned.

"I can't stop throwing up," Y/N mumbled.

"How long have you been in here?" Carlisle asked.

"An hour," She replied.

"Why didn't you call for me? I could've given you something to help with the nausea," He said gently.

"Feels like someone shoved a hot branding iron down my throat," She muttered.

"I could get you some water or tea to help," Carlisle offered.

"Just want to sleep," Y/N stated.

"Can you stand?" He questioned, looking down at her.

"No, everything hurts," She grumbled.

Carlisle nodded, kneeling down and sliding his arm underneath her body before lifting her up into his arms. Y/N let out a soft whimper, grimacing in pain and gripping onto him as he picked her up.

Carlisle turned around and set her down on the countertop. He prepared her toothbrush before passing it to her, wetting a cloth under some warm water as she brushed her teeth.

Y/N leaned over and spit into the sink, Carlisle took the toothbrush from her hand and offered her the cloth. Y/N wiped the cloth over her skin, arms falling limply in her lap as she breathed heavily, utterly exhausted from the simple act of wiping her face.

"Are you alright?" Carlisle asked.

"No, I'm not and I wish you'd stop asking me that," She snapped.

Carlisle didn't reply, giving her a moment to rest as he put everything away. He stepped back over to her when her breathing rate had returned to normal.

"Ready?" He asked, she nodded.

Carlisle lifted her into his arms carefully before he carried her into her room and placed her down on her bed. Y/N grimaced as she laid back, closing her eyes as she took a few shaky breaths.

"How bad is the pain?" Carlisle questioned.

"Terrible," She stated, growing irritated with his questions as she struggled to get comfortable.

"I'll get you something for the pain and the nausea," Carlisle said, standing up from the edge of the bed.

"Or you could just snap my neck now and put me out of my misery," Y/N offered.

"That's not an option and you know that," Carlisle replied gently.

"What quality of life do I have, Carlisle? My teeth are falling out, my body aches like I have broken glass flowing through my veins and I can't do simple tasks without feeling completely exhausted. I am miserable and it isn't going to get any better," She stated.

"There are still things we can try, Y/N. You were doing incredibly well a few days ago, we don't have to jump to extremes just yet. Pain medications, sedatives and anti-nausea drugs can drastically improve your comfort level," Carlisle said.

Y/N scoffed, "I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a narcotic haze as my body shuts down," She snapped.

"Dosages can be adjusted. It doesn't have to be that way," Carlisle assured.

"You've done as much as you can for me. It's time to give up," Y/N stated.

"That's not what you really want," He said.

"How would you know what I want? You haven't cared enough to know me for an incredibly long time, Carlisle," She said.

"You're right... I haven't been there for you in the way that you wanted, but I'm here now and I want to help you," Carlisle pressed.

"You can't help me," Y/N stated firmly, "But you can let me go," She continued.

"We can talk about our options tomorrow. You should try and get some rest," Carlisle advised.

Y/N shook her head, looking away as Carlisle made his way out of her bedroom and closed the door.

Edward stood in the hallway, "She wants to die?" He questioned.

"She does," Carlisle replied.

"We can't let that happen," Edward stated.

"I'm going to try and convince her to pursue alternative treatment options, but she doesn't seem optimistic," Carlisle said.

"I'll talk to her," Edward said, Carlisle shook his head.

"Bella could be waking up any moment now, she's going to need you. I can deal with Y/N for the time being," Carlisle assured.

"When Bella wakes up, Y/N is going to need someone with her at all times. The bloodlust could overwhelm Bella and Y/N wouldn't stand a chance," Edward said.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Carlisle replied.

"Agreed," Edward nodded.

....

PART 11

1K notes · View notes

raekensluver · 10 months ago

Text

hearts aligned

description: you and your roommate spencer reid have always been there for each other. one night he comes back from work and you two discover a different side to your dynamic.

pairing: roomate!spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: fluff!! mutual pining, typical criminal minds violence, reader is described as having shoulder length hair

song rec: fallen star by the nbhd- "you're in my dna, i can't keep away no matter how hard i try"

w.c: 2.7k

an: *sob* i love him.

it was a mundane tuesday evening, the kind that bled into the fabric of the week seamlessly. the apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator echoing through the hallway. the soft glow of the living room lamp cast a warm, buttery light, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows outside the window. you sat cross-legged on the couch, your nose buried in a well-worn paperback, the plot weaving in and out of your consciousness like a gentle stream.

the sound of the lock turning brought your head up with a jolt, the bookmark slipping from your fingers to land silently on the carpet. spencer reid, your roommate, stepped inside, his eyes weary but a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. his gaze swept the room before settling on you, the surprise in his eyes unmistakable. "you're still up," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to shake the very air.

you closed the book with a soft thud and gave him a warm smile. "yeah, i had some trouble sleeping," you admitted, your voice a little hoarse from the quiet of the night. "do you want some tea?" you offered, already pushing to your feet. his nod was all the encouragement you needed as you padded into the kitchen, the cold tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of the living room. while the water heated, you listened to the soft thud of his shoes against the floor as he moved towards his room, the jingle of his keys a familiar lullaby.

but when you turned with the steaming mug in hand, you found him hovering in the doorway, watching you. "you know, i can do that," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't mind, really." his voice was gentle, a hint of concern lacing his words.

you paused, the ceramic warm against your palms, and studied him for a moment. his tie was askew, his shirt wrinkled from a long day's work, and his hair, normally a neat cap of chocolate waves, was disheveled. "you've had a long day," you said, your voice firm but kind. "just sit." you gestured to the stool at the kitchen island, the one that faced the stove where you were already setting out ingredients for a simple meal. "i'll make us something light."

he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "alright," he conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a seat. the fabric of his pants whispered against the leather of the stool as he settled in, his eyes never leaving you as you moved with an easy grace around the kitchen. you could feel the weight of his gaze, a warm presence that made your cheeks flush, and your heart stutter in your chest.

you filled a pan with oil, the faint sizzle as it heated up a comforting sound. "so, how was work today?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the sudden thrum of anticipation that had taken root in your veins.

spencer took a sip of his tea, his eyes thoughtful. "it was… interesting," he said, his gaze drifting over the steaming liquid. "but i'd rather not talk about that right now," he added, his voice a low murmur. "do you mind if we talk about something else?"

you nodded, setting aside the knife you were using to chop vegetables. "of course," you said, wiping your hands on a dishtowel. "what do you want to talk about?"

spencer leaned against the counter, his expression pensive. "tell me about your day," he said, his eyes searching yours. "i feel like i never get to hear about it."

you felt a flutter in your stomach. "it was…normal," you said, the words feeling almost rehearsed. "work, errands, the usual."

spencer's gaze remained steady, a hint of curiosity lighting his eyes. "anything exciting happen?"

you couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence. "well, if you consider accidentally matching my socks with my shirt 'exciting,' then yes, it was quite the thriller," you said with a wry smile.

his eyes lit up with amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching. "i see," he said, his voice teasing. "that does sound like a tale for the ages."

you rolled your eyes playfully, the tension in the room easing a notch. "it was definitely a fashion statement," you quipped, tossing a chopped carrot into the pan. the sizzle filled the air, the scent of garlic and onions mingling with the warmth of the kitchen.

spencer set his tea aside, leaning closer. "i'm sure it was," he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "but really, anything interesting happen?"

you met his gaze, a sudden realization dawning. "you know what, spencer?" you said, your voice earnest. "right now, this moment, is the most interesting thing that's happened to me all day." his eyes widened slightly, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. "just being here, with you, talking about nothing in particular… it's nice."

his cheeks colored slightly, and he ducked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "it is," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "i don't get to do this very often."

you cocked your head to the side, studying him. "what do you mean?"

he shrugged, his eyes darting to the floor. "i spend so much time working, or reading, or… just in my own head," he admitted. "i don't get to just sit and talk with people. not like this."

you felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that was more profound than any conversation you'd had with him before. "i'm always here, you know," you said softly, the words slipping out before you could second guess them. "if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with."

his eyes snapped back up to yours, the surprise in them clear. "i know," he said, his voice a little gruff. "i just… i don't want to burden you."

you set the spatula down, moving closer to him. "you're not a burden, spencer," you said, your voice firm. "you're my roommate. and if you ever need anything, i'm here."

his eyes searched yours, the depth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. "i know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "it's just… i don't want to take advantage."

you reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. "you could never take advantage," you assured him, your thumb stroking a gentle circle against his skin. "we're friends, we're supposed to be here for each other."

spencer's eyes dropped to where your hand rested, the warmth of your touch seeping into his bones. "i know that," he murmured. "but i also know that you have your own life, your own things to deal with."

you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before retreating to the stove, the comforting dance of cooking resuming as if the moment had never happened. "and you're part of my life," you said, your back to him. "so, what's one more thing?"

spencer watched you for a moment, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, the way your hair fell in soft waves down to your shoulders. he took a deep breath, the scent of the simmering food filling his nostrils. "what's your favorite memory?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

you glanced over your shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "just one?" you teased, turning back to the stove. "that's a tough one." you stirred the contents of the pan, the spices releasing a symphony of aromas into the air. "but if i had to pick, it would probably be the first time we moved in together."

spencer's eyes lit up, the memory obviously a good one. "that was… crazy," he said with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "but also… nice."

you nodded, your smile growing. "i remember being so nervous," you said, the words bringing a warm rush of nostalgia. "i didn't know what to expect, moving in with someone i'd only met once before."

spencer's gaze grew distant, his mind traveling back to that fateful day. "i was the same," he admitted. "i had this whole speech prepared about how we should respect each other's space and keep things clean, but when i saw you, it all just… disappeared."

you turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. "really?"

he nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "i know it sounds ridiculous, but you just… you made me feel comfortable. like i could be myself around you."

you felt your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "i felt the same way," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i remember walking in and seeing all these boxes, and thinking 'what have i gotten myself into?'" you laughed, the sound a little too loud in the quiet kitchen. "but then you looked up from your book, and you just… you were so genuine, so welcoming."

spencer's smile grew, his eyes a soft brown in the muted light. "i've never regretted that decision," he said, his voice earnest. "you make this place feel like home."

you blinked, the sudden weight of his words settling in your stomach. "i'm… i'm happy to hear that," you said, your voice a little breathless.

spencer pushed himself off the stool, the sound of it scraping against the tile floor breaking the silence. he took a step closer to you, the warmth of his body radiating like a small sun. "i mean it," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're the best roommate i could ever ask for."

you swallowed hard, the heat of the stove behind you seemingly nothing compared to the warmth in front of you. "thank you," you whispered, your hand still clutching the spatula. "you're pretty great too."

his smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "yeah?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

you nodded, feeling your heart race. "yes," you said, turning back to the stove to give yourself a moment to compose. "you're always there when i need you, and you put up with my terrible cooking."

spencer chuckled, moving closer to peer into the pan. "i wouldn't say it's terrible," he said, his eyes twinkling. "just… adventurous."

you shot him a playful glare, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "adventurous, huh?" you said, shaking your head. "i'll take that as a compliment."

spencer stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take the spatula from your grip. "i'll help," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. the air between you felt charged, the tension thick and palpable. your heart was racing, each beat echoing in your ears like the tick of a clock counting down to something you hadn't quite anticipated.

you let him take over, watching as his long, slender fingers deftly stirred the sizzling mixture. "i've been meaning to tell you something," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "i know we've been roommates for a while now, but… i've started to realize that i might like you a little more than just a friend."

you froze, the heat from the stove forgotten. your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of uncertainty or jest, but all you found was sincerity. "spencer," you began, but he held up a hand to stop you.

"i know it's weird," he said, his voice rushing out like a river that had been dammed for too long. "and i know we're friends, and roommates, but… i can't ignore it anymore."

you stared at him, your thoughts racing faster than the cars on the street outside. "spencer," you breathed, his name a question, a declaration, a plea all rolled into one. your hand hovered in the space between you, unsure of where to land.

his eyes searched yours, the warmth of his hand as he took the spatula a silent promise. "i know," he continued, his voice a little shaky. "but i can't help it. every time i come home and you're here, waiting for me, it's like… it's like coming home to a piece of sunshine."

you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the words resonating deep within you. "spencer," you whispered, the name a prayer on your lips. "i… i feel the same way." the words hung in the air, a soft confession that seemed to illuminate the kitchen with a gentle glow.

his eyes searched yours, a hopeful spark lighting them up. "you do?" he asked, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid to believe.

you nodded, your own heart racing. "yes," you said, your voice clear and firm. "i've liked you for a while now. i just didn't know how to tell you." the admission felt like a weight lifting off your chest, leaving you feeling lighter than air.

spencer's smile grew, a genuine, boyish grin that made your heart flutter. "really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

you nodded, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. "yes," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. "i just didn't want to mess things up."

spencer set the spatula down, the clatter against the pan a jolting sound in the quiet kitchen. "you could never mess things up," he said, his voice a soft promise. "not with me."

you took a step closer, the warmth of his body drawing you in like a magnet. "are you sure?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.

he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "i've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said, his voice a low murmur. "you make me feel… alive, in a way i haven't felt in a long time."

you felt your breath catch in your throat, the confession so raw and honest that it was like a punch to the gut. "spencer," you whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek. your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips.

his eyes searched yours, the question in them unspoken but clear. "what are we going to do?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

you took a deep breath, the scent of the food on the stove forgotten. "i don't know," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i just know that i don't want to ignore this anymore."

spencer reached up, his hand covering yours on his cheek. "neither do i," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. "i don't want to pretend it's not there."

you stepped closer, your hand sliding down to cup his face fully. "then let's not," you said, your voice a little tremulous. "let's see where this goes."

his eyes searched yours for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours tentatively. it was a gentle touch, a question that hung in the air between you, waiting for an answer. you responded with a sigh, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the warmth of his body a comforting embrace that seemed to fit you perfectly.

the world outside the kitchen faded away, the only sounds the faint crackle of the stove and the thud of your hearts beating in sync. the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. your hands tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers like silk.

you two broke apart, breathless, your eyes searching each other's for any sign of doubt or regret. but all you saw was a reflection of your own feelings - a wild, unbridled hope that seemed to set the room alight. spencer's chest rose and fell in time with yours, his eyes dark with want.

"i've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

you nodded, your eyes searching his. "i know," you said, your voice just as soft. "me too."

his thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, his gaze never leaving yours. "are we… are we okay?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

you nodded, your heart racing. "yes," you breathed, the word a soft promise. "we're more than okay."

edited 11.30.24

1K notes · View notes

leriexoxo · 2 months ago

Text

DEAD BATTERIES

pairing: Seungmin x fem reader

tags: smut, mdni, unprotected sex, college au, roommates to lovers, mentions of masturbation, fingering, oral (f receiving), doggy, first kisses, breeding kink, overstimulation, praise, multiple orgasms.

word count: 3k

summary: you thought you had the entire dorm to yourself and got a little carried away playing with your vibrator and thinking about your hot roommate. what you didn't know was that seungmin came home early and heard a little more than he bargained for...

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck!” Of all nights.

Sweaty, breathing heavy, and frustrated beyond all belief, you tossed aside your now useless vibrator.

You were so fucking close and it decided to die on you. Try as you might, you couldn’t hold onto the pleasure long enough to finish, no matter how hard you worked your fingers. It wasn’t even like they’d ever been enough to make you finish before.

Accepting your fate, you swung off the bed and put your sweats back on along with a fresh t-shirt, not bothering with panties. You checked to make sure the coast was clear before sneaking to the bathroom to clean your toy. Frankly Seungmin most likely wouldn’t give a shit if he caught you. Living together since sophomore year meant you both had been witness to far worse from each other.

Still, it wasn’t a conversation you were dying to have with your unfairly-attractive roommate. Especially when you were still horny and wished it was him between your legs, not some battery-powered silicone.

Speaking of… although tonight’s session was ruined, you could at least find some new batteries for next time.

You meandered to the kitchen, and rifled through the drawers coming up with nothing.

Laundry room? Nope, no batteries.

That drawer of random stuff that has no other place? Useless.

Tossing your head back with a long groan, you shuffled back to the kitchen. Ice cream may not help you sleep, but it would make you feel better.

Seungmin better not have eaten the last of it, you thought to yourself. Overall, he was a good roommate. He always did his share of chores, always let you know if he was having friends over, he even encouraged you to join them so you didn’t feel left out in your own home. Your friendship circle had improved substantially since he and Sully- his cousin, swapped apartments.

Your former roommate had suddenly gotten transferred to another state college, mid semester. You were a little worried but sad to see her go as you had just formed a new friendship with her, worried because you couldn’t handle the rent alone and it was a hassle to find a new roommate mid semester. Sully however, already had a plan so when she assured you that you wouldn’t have to worry because she was only exchanging apartments with her cousin who luckily got transferred to your college, you were really relieved.

When Seungmin moved in, you were a bit shocked that it was a guy, a minor detail that sully clearly forgot to mention. He was really handsome and tall, a little shy at first and didn’t speak much, but a week around the house and he shed his shyness pretty quickly.

The nights were definitely quieter now. Sully was loud and very vocal during sex and her boyfriend Jeongin had the stamina to go all night. Whereas Seungmin, despite his cocky demeanor and charming personality that made him a magnet for just about every girl on campus, and a few guys, he was actually quite considerate and respectful of you.

But if he ate your ice cream though… you thought darkly, remembering what kind of menace he could be.

You sighed in relief when you spotted the tub of Ben & Jerry’s Mint Chocolate Cookie ice cream in the freezer, grabbing a spoon to dig in.

“Rough night?”

“Shit!” Dropping your spoon on the counter, you glared daggers at your drop-dead gorgeous roommate. His adorably mussed up hair almost made up for him scaring you out of your wits. “What the hell are you doing home? Thought you were staying at Felix’s to work on your thesis?”

He shrugged, picking up your spoon. “Felix got called in at work. We rescheduled to Friday,” giving you a fake offended look when you smack his hand away from the tub.

Lucky bastards, your own thesis was kicking your ass, you didn’t even know where to start. “Go get your own ice-cream.” You took back the spoon and dug into your cold treat, making sure to get a chunk of chocolate.

“Did you just get home?” you asked, taking another large bite.

“Nah,” he shook his head, producing a new spoon and scooping some for himself. “Got back a while ago, ten thirty or eleven. Sometime between.”

You Glanced at the kitchen’s digital clock in mild shock, bright red numbers stared back at you. It was almost 1:30 am. You realized that it kind of made more sense about the batteries now. You had tried to get some sleep just before 10, overworked and stressed. And when music or books couldn’t quiet your mind, you turned to sex. Or as best as you could manage by yourself.

What a failure that was by the way, hours of work and batteries and for nothing.

You paused mid-bite, lips still pressing together on the spoon as his words sank in.

Shit.

He didn’t hear you, did he? Did your moans travel through the walls as you struggled to find release? Did he hear you cry out his name? Double shit!

“I thought you had someone over at first.” He shifted to stand behind your frozen form, hips lightly pressing to yours as he whispered in your ear. “Until I heard my name through the door.”

You cowered in embarrassment, letting your head fall onto the counter, cheeks flaming hot, while he chuckled.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed, y/n,” he teased, leaning back on the counter watching you. “I think it’s flattering, hopefully I helped with the big finish?”

If only. You groaned, at least it would have made this embarrassment a little more justified

“Wait what?”

“I didn’t,” you clarified, putting the ice cream away before it melted. “My vibrator died before I could and there aren’t any spare batteries in this place.”

Seungmin looked at you for a moment, wheels audibly turning in his head as he scrunched up his cute nose thoughtfully.

“So,” he shrugged, “finish with your hands,” as if it’s the most obvious answer ever.

“Well thank you so much Seungmin. Why didn’t I think of that?” you sneered sarcastically, earlier irritations returning with a vengeance.

“Sorry,” he placated, “I didn’t mean–”

“Forget it.” Waving him off, you hopped to sit on the counter, leaning back against the cabinets. “I can’t… I can’t get off by myself. Even with…,” trailing off as your eyes start to burn. “It just isn’t that easy, ok.”

Silence permeated the kitchen and throughout the apartment, unbroken apart from the sound of Seungmin’s breathing beside you. The tension in the air from your confession was thick. You’d never told anyone that. Not past partners, not even your best friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you apologized, sighing deeply.

“It’s alright.” Seungmin scooted closer so your shoulders touched.

“No, it’s not,” shaking your head, you met his gaze. “I’m so tired. But I can’t sleep because I’m too stressed out and I’m about to throttle my group members with this thesis.”

Your blood started to boil as you continued. “They’re off partying all the time and leaving me to do the work! I’m exhausted from all my other classes alone and they’re off fucking about instead of being responsible. I’m about to go beg Mr. Park to let me switch. He knew exactly what he was doing when he put me together with those morons. I’m not their babysitter and I’m not their mother. And, I’m not about to let their childish behavior ruin my grades! I’ve worked too damn hard to–mmph!”

Seungmin cut off your rant, pressing his lips to yours as he gently parted your knees to stand between them.

You hesitated for only a moment, before you melted into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck while he held you close. Granting his tongue entrance when it traced your lip, you could taste the divine flavors of the mint ice cream and what must have been his toothpaste. Like mint chocolate chip.

His large hands cupped and squeezed your ass, pulling you flush with his body as your pussy throbbed against his hardening cock.

“What was that for?” you breathed, pulling back just enough to speak.

“To distract you,” he purred, lips trailing across your jaw. “Want me to stop?”

“Please don’t,” you practically begged.

He moved his hands under your sweats, kneading the soft flesh of your bare ass and groaning into your neck when he found no panties. When he lightly tapped your thighs, you crossed your ankles behind his slender waist and tightened your grip around his shoulders.

Lifting you off the counter with shocking ease, Seungmin carried you to your room and laid you on the bed, kissing down your neck until you pushed him back to pull off your shirt. He moved down your chest, mouthing your breasts, swirling his tongue around and nipping each bud before leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses to your navel. He met your gaze briefly, silently asking permission to continue before he pulled your sweatpants over your hips and off completely, tossing them to the side and leaving you bare before him.

Wasting no time, Seungmin lowered his head between your legs and licked a long, flat stripe through your folds, groaning at the sweet taste of you.

Your hands pulled and held him closer, tangling through his soft locks as he ate your pussy like a man starved. Seungmin ate you with so much precision and expertise, alternating between tongue fucking you and sucking on your swollen clit. His lips wrapped around the sensitive nub and then he hummed sending shock waves and vibrations that made your legs twitch and head spin.

Seungmin threw his arm across your hips, pinning you down as he pinched your clit with two long big fingers making you yelp. He looked up at your face to watch you lose your mind as he slowly slit the same two fingers into your dripping cunt, fingers massaging your walls, curling against that spongy part.

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight” he muttered, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he watched his fingers disappear. As he drew them out again you let out a sexy moan, saying his name just the way he heard earlier when you played with your cunt alone. Seungmin nearly ran mad, he buried his digits into your velvety walls again but this time bringing his tongue to lap at your clit while he fingered you senseless.

“Keep going...” You begged, rocking your ass to meet his fingers midway, the knot in your belly was almost ready to snap. That earlier unattainable orgasm finally within your reach. “Please, Min. I’m—.”

Whatever words were on your tongue were lost in a strangled moan as waves of pleasure flooded your senses. Your mind fogging over as white-hot sparks travelled up your spine and through your limbs. Nothing else matters except Seungmin’s fingers and mouth.

He didn’t stop, he continued to stimulate you until you’re writhing in his strong grip, trying to escape the overwhelming sensations, yet wishing it never ended and just when it became too much to handle, he pulled back, granting you a tiny bit of mercy as his mouth found yours, tongue invading past your lips so you can taste yourself.

Even as Seungmin had given you that orgasm you had been craving, even as you could feel the tendrils of sleep reaching for you, you needed more. More of him.

You tugged at the hem of his shirt and he assisted you in yanking it over his head, and then you ran your hands over his lean fit form, lightly scratching down his back, squeezing his pert ass.

Getting the idea, Seungmin shifted to remove his pants, his boxers following, before crawling back up to hover above your body. You admired his hard length, thinking back to your “accidental” glances and those days of him wearing only grey sweatpants not doing justice to what stood before you, you grasped him firmly, using your thumb to smear precum over the angry red tip.

You had a moment of pride when you saw his eyes darken, the pupils dilating at the sensation of your warm hand, before he flipped you over and pulled you up by your waist to kneel in front of him.

“Y/n, are you sure you want this?” he breathed, “There’s no turning back”

“I want you Seungmin, please” you pleaded, wiggling your ass before him as he held your hips.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good baby” he said, stroking his cock teasingly through your wet folds, gathering your juices with his tip and coating himself in your arousal before finally easing into your heat.

The delicious burn as he stretched your quivering walls had you keening, twisting the sheets so tight your fingers tingled.

“Good girl,” he praised as he rocked deeper with each small thrust. His cock felt endless as it kept digging at your cunt. “Taking me so well, doll.”

When he was fully buried, he paused for only a moment before gripping your hips, pulling out almost completely to the tip and slamming back in, grazing your g-spot with every thrust as he built his tempo fucking you hard and deep.

Your thighs quivered from the brutal pace and the intense feeling that came with it. Your arms gave out, unable to support yourself as the sensations overwhelmed you, you moaned brokenly each time Seungmin’s pelvis slammed into yours.

“Oh my God! Minnie fuckkkk” you screamed.

His right hand looped across your chest and closed around your neck to haul you up towards him. Your back was flush against his chest as you were now practically bouncing in his lap while he drove his cock impossibly deeper in short thrusts that kissed that spot that your small fingers never seemed to reach and had you seeing stars.

“This what you needed?” he groaned, nipping the shell of your ear as he held you close by your neck. “Huh? To be fucked so hard you can’t think straight. You like my cock splitting you in half?”

Barely able to nod in his firm grip on your neck, you clutched his arm, trying to ground yourself as the familiar pressure formed at your core, pulsing up your spine. Threatening to overwhelm you.

Those efforts proved to be in vain when he moved his other hand to play with your clit, throwing you over the edge but keeping you grounded. Your body went stiff in his hold as the waves of your second orgasm washed over you again and again. Barely fading away before building back up.

Trembling in his arms, mouth open in a silent cry, your vision went white, darkness teasing the edges, walls clenching him tighter and tighter until Seungmin couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I’m gonna cum baby, hang tight” he choked out in a strangled plea.

He then pushed you back on the bed, hovering over your body as he chased his own high. Pounding into your over-stimulated cunt, he angled your hips twisting you half to the side, just enough to rip one last orgasm from you before nuzzling against your neck and spilling into you with a choked moan. You screamed at the same time your orgasm ripped through you while he shot his thick load into your spent cunt.

Seungmin collapsed, letting himself lay on you while you both caught your breaths. After a moment, he lightly brushed a piece of hair off your sweaty cheek. “You ok, baby?”

Baby, you could get used to that…

His solid weight on your back slightly crushed you, but it was a welcome comfort helping you keep one toe in reality as your mind slowly came back.

“I’m fine Min, just might not be able to use my legs right now.” With blissful sleep on the horizon and you wanting nothing more than to lay here with Seungmin holding you, you know you would regret not cleaning up in the morning.

Just a little longer. You thought

Reading your mind, Seungmin slipped out with a quiet groan and rolled on his side to face you. He grazed his fingers along your back, pressing chaste kisses to your forehead before getting up.

You were about to whine at his absence, but you felt him return with a damp, warm washcloth cleaning up your combined mess. His tenderness was unexpected to say the least. If you could muster the strength to tell him you would, but your mind was still too far in the clouds, unable even to crack open your eyes.

In another surprise, you felt the bed dip as he lay back down, arms encircling and pulling you close. His soft lips molded over yours, moving sweetly and gently as you kissed him back, bringing awareness back to you slowly, while his hands traced over your body, softly kneading your thighs.

Before long, you were able to function and move your limbs enough to cup his face, holding him in the kiss.

“Sleep here tonight?” you whispered.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving baby.” He playfully bumped your nose with his.

“Baby?” you asked, blushing.

“You’re mine” he winked, “Also, I’m getting rid of that damn vibrator”

For the first time in almost a month, you fell asleep content. Seungmin’s arms holding you against him as small puffs of breath fanned over your neck, his heartbeat thumping steadily on your back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: finally, I wrote seungmin!! for some reason I'm so deep in the roommates to lover's trope lol, I think I've done this for at least half the members now. I thoroughly enjoy writing these on Tumblr and I would love some feedback!

so, if you enjoyed this too, then leave a like, comment and feel free to reblog!!!

#skz imagines #skz seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin #seungmin fluff #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin stray kids #seungmin angst #seungmin drabbles #straykids x reader #straykids fanfic #straykids fluff #straykids smut #straykids imagines #kim seungmo #roommates au #roommates

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flwrstqr · 1 year ago

Text

𓈒 ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH YOU ˒

── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, imagines, ot7 works, jealousy 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 1387 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames, jealousy, members being kind of possessive?┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ jealous enha is my life ◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승)

heeseung's eyes narrow slightly as he notices another man checking you out and trying to flirt with you. a hint of jealousy flickers in his gaze, but he quickly masks it with a confident smile. without a second thought, he steps closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist possessively.

heeseung leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "hey, baby, having a good time?" he places a soft kiss on your temple, his eyes locking with the other man's in a silent challenge.

"mind if I steal you away for a bit?" heeseung continues, his hand moving to gently caress your lower back as you walk away, he glances over his shoulder, giving the other man a look that clearly says, "she's mine."

rest of the members below !!

JAY (박종성)

jay's jaw tightens as he notices another man flirting with you. without a moment's hesitation, he strides over, his eyes fixed on the man trying to get your attention.

"excuse me," jay says firmly, "she's with me." he doesn't wait for a response, his hand already reaching for yours. the possessiveness in his grip is undeniable, and the other man quickly steps back, nervous.

jay pulls you away with a gentle tug. as you walk together, his hand never leaves yours, his thumb brushing against your skin reassuringly.

once you're a safe distance away, he stops and turns to face you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. "are you okay?" he asks, his voice softer now, concern replacing the earlier irritation.

you nod, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "I'm sorry if I was a bit harsh," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I just couldn't stand the thought of anyone else trying to take you away from me."

JAKE (심재윤)

jake's eyes darken with a mix of irritation and determination as he spots another man flirting with you. he doesn't bother with words; his gaze never leaving the man who is trying to get your attention.

without saying anything, jake gently but firmly takes your hand, pulling you close to him. he leans in and kisses you on the lips. the message is clear: you are his.

the other man quickly gets the hint, his face falling as he realizes he's overstepped. jake doesn't spare him another glance. he breaks the kiss, looking into your eyes with a soft smile, the earlier irritation melting away.

still holding your hand, jake leads you away, his grip reassuring and steady. he doesn't say anything until you're a good distance away from the scene.

SUNGHOON (박성훈)

sunghoon's eyes narrow as he catches sight of another man flirting with you. a flash of anger crosses his face, and he wastes no time in making his way over to you.

"who are you flirting with?" sunghoon's voice is cold and sharp as he addresses the man, his tone leaving no room for argument. the other man looks startled, taken aback by Sunghoon's sudden and intense appearance.

"get off my girlfriend," sunghoon asserts firmly. his words leave no room for misunderstanding.

sunghoon takes your hand without hesitation, his grip strong and reassuring. "let's go," he says, his voice softer but still tinged with the edge of frustration. he leads you away swiftly, guiding you to a quieter, more secluded corner away from the unwanted attention.

SUNOO (김선우)

sunoo notices the other man flirting with you, and his usually cheerful demeanor shifts slightly as he becomes aware of the situation. he steps closer to you, a playful smile on his face, but there's a determined glint in his eyes.

"hi, baby, where's the necklace I got you on our first anniversary?" sunoo asks casually, his voice loud enough for the man to hear. his tone is light, but there's a subtle emphasis on the word "baby," making it clear that you are taken.

he reaches out to gently touch the necklace around your neck, his fingers tracing the pendant or chain affectionately.

"how about we go now?" he smiles, turning and giving a glare at the man. as he leads you away, sunoo leans in to whisper something playful or affectionate in your ear, his arm slipping around your waist casually.

JUNGWON (양정원)

his usually warm eyes turn cold, and his expression hardens into a glare aimed at the other man. without hesitating, Jungwon moves closer to you, his hand instinctively seeking yours.

his hand tightens around yours as he pulls you a little closer, subtly signaling his discomfort.

"do you mind if we...?" he murmurs softly, leaning in to kiss your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment longer than usual.

He brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle yet possessive. "Sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible, "I just... couldn't help it."

RIKI (西村力)

riki clenches his jaw as he watches the other man flirt with you, trying to keep his cool. he steps closer to you, subtly positioning himself between you and the flirtatious stranger.

"you okay?" you ask, noticing his tense demeanor.

"yeah," riki replies tersely, his gaze flickering towards the other man who's still chatting you up.

as the flirting persists, riki's patience wears thin. suddenly, he takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him.hHis voice drops to a low murmur, meant for your ears only.

"you know," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, "I think someone's forgetting who you belong to."

you feel a rush of warmth at his possessive tone. before you can respond, Riki leans down and kisses you firmly on the lips. he pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with intensity.

the other man's expression shifts from confidence to uncertainty as he realizes he's been upstaged. riki keeps his arm around you, his posture protective.

"sorry to interrupt," Riki says casually to the other man, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "but I believe you were done here."

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svtswhorehouse · 10 months ago

Text

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader genre: mdni, smut warnings: reader’s birthday, little mention of bondage by ribbons, pussy eating, mentions of dom cheol, fingering, making out, slight finger sucking, pet names, mentions of a round two idk. word count: 1.8k synopsis: every year, like clockwork, your boyfriend never fails to wish you happy birthday the moment midnight strikes. this year is no different — and as always, he plans to make every single one of your wishes come true.

sidenote: it’s my birthday today so here’s a little something!!! hellllllllo twenty-one, you’re not ready for me!! also, i wrote this so quickly cause i was trying to get it out by my birthday so i apologize if it’s not that great.

You have always looked pretty in pink. It was your favorite color — one that made you stand out and surely one that appeared spectacular against your skin tone at the current moment.

You glanced up at the pretty ribbon tied in a cute little bow around your wrists. The piece of fabric once used for your hair now bounding your arms to the bedpost, preventing you from moving. You laid flat on the mattress, your body completely bare and head elevated by a soft pillow as you anxiously awaited the arrival of your boyfriend. Claiming he had a very important task to finish, Seungcheol unfortunately left the room right as things were just beginning to get heated. Despite saying it wouldn’t take that long, five minutes seemed to feel like years as your body was hot and your heart was racing.

With your eyes narrowing in on the clock, the time read 11:58 p.m and it was only two minutes away from an annual milestone in your life. As if right on cue, as soon as midnight struck, the door creaked open.

Your eyes flew to the entrance immediately, excitement on your face as your boyfriend entered. In his hands was a pink cake in the shape of a heart, sprinkles and edible glitter all around it to make it pretty. Candles displaying your age were lit at the top and waiting for you to blow them out as Seungcheol shielded the flame with one hand.

The boy smiled at you, walking closer to the spot in which you couldn’t move from. “Happy birthday baby.” He held the cake close to your face and you took the time to admire the beauty of it. Seungcheol was a man that took consideration and time into doing something, and although he didn’t make or decorate the cake himself, he definitely put thought into choosing it out from the bakery.

“Thank you Cheolie.” You spoke looking at him with eyes full of admiration and love at the kind gesture. He was always someone who scolded others who didn’t wish him at exactly twelve a.m whenever his birthday rolled around, so you could surely count on him to be the first person to wish you when it came down to it.

Seungcheol’s eyes lit up in slight excitement at your gaze. A blush was beginning to form on his cheeks, however he cleared his throat and it died down rather quickly. “Make a wish.” He encouraged.

Closing your eyes, you did as he said before opening them back up again. Directly in your line of vision was Seungcheol who’s gaze never left yours once as he took some of the buttercream frosting on his index and middle finger, holding them up to your lips.

“Open.” He said, the words sounding like a command.

Listening obediently, you opened your mouth wide and happily took in his fingers. You sucked the frosting clean off, coming to the conclusion that it was rather delicious as your tongue lingered to swirl around his digits. You were doing an impeccable job at maintaining eye contact with your boyfriend, the simple action causing his pants to tighten as his cock grew even harder when you let out a moan.

“Shit.” He mumbled under his breath, however it didn’t quite reach your ears as the only thing you could hear was the pop as soon as his fingers left your mouth. “What did you wish for pretty girl?” He asked, genuinely curious.

A seductive look was displayed on your face as you spoke in a whisper. “I think you know.”

Seungcheol waited a beat to gather himself before finally giving in and leaning down to crash his lips against yours. The kiss was soft at first, soon turning rough when he rested a hand on your throat. You let out a small sound of pleasure, Cheol taking advantage of the moment in which your lips parted to enter his tongue into your mouth. You allowed him to explore, your wet muscle intertwining with his in perfect harmony just as it always does.

As he pulled away to break the kiss, you were left with your lips chasing his, only to be held down by the restraint he put you in before. The boy chuckled as you tugged, looking at him with desperate doe eyes.

“You’re too cute.” He said before dipping down to trail light kisses along your neck and down to your stomach. “My pretty, pretty girl.” The praise left you whining for more, his sultry eyes adding more fuel to the fire as he got closer and closer to your lower regions. Your breath picked up, getting heavy as you anticipated his every move.

In one swift motion, Seungcheol grabbed your knees to tear them apart from each other and admire the spot between your legs.

The sudden act of your pussy being on full display for him caused you to shrink into yourself, feeling shy at his sudden attention on such an intimate part of your body.

“What baby?” Seungcheol asked, furrowing his eyebrows in fake curiousity as he noticed your timidity. “Isn’t this what you wished for.” He inched his face closer to your core with a shit eating grin — one that would of had you smacking the back of his head if it was any other time, but for now just had you begging for more.

“I-.” You tried to start, but was left speechless as the only thing you could pay attention to were the kisses he was beginning to leave on the insides of your thighs. He was far too close to the one spot that was craving the most of his attention, but it was left neglected as he skipped over it every single time. “Cheol.” You groaned, wiggling your hips as the impatience began to sink in. You were practically presented to him on a silver platter, but despite that he still refused to give you what you wanted.

Maybe he enjoyed seeing you suffer — or maybe he rather enjoyed the fact that he could see you getting wetter by the minute from his point of view the longer he made you wait.

At last, he finally laid a gentle kiss directly on your clit. The action caused you to let out a loud moan as you bucked your hips up in an attempt to grind against his face. Laughing to himself, Seungcheol was quick to wrap a strong arm around your waist to prevent your lower half from moving any more than it already has.

“Patience baby.”

You rolled your eyes at his words and let out a huff to audibly let him know that you weren’t happy with the denial of your pleasure. “But it’s my birthday!” You protested.

Seungcheol sighed, knowing that you were in fact right and it wouldn’t hurt to let you get what you wanted at least just for one night. “And whatever the birthday girl wants, the birthday girl gets.” He gave in, eyes softening slightly.

Although the inner dom in him wasn’t too happy about his choice of throwing in the towel, especially so soon — he still decided to grant your wishes, knowing that it’s your day and it’s what you wanted for the night.

A smile spread across your face as he spoke, but your mouth soon flied open and jaw went slack from the sudden connection of his tongue lapping at your cunt. “Fuck.” You mutter, head rolling to the side and eyes closing as his mouth explored you entirely.

You have been in this position about a million times before and still, every single time it never fails to amaze you just how talented your boyfriend is with his tongue.

His wet muscle pokes at your entrance, working in and out of you, occasionally trailing back up to your clit so he can trace circles around the bud. He switches from flicking to sucking, changing it up every so often just the way you like it.

“Feels good baby?” Seungcheol asks, his mouth unlatching for a split second to take in your expression.

“Mhm. S-so good Cheolie.” You found it hard to think as your boyfriend slowly slides a finger into your dripping hole. Whining at the intrusion, you wriggle your hips when he doesn’t move.

“What?” He asks, almost in a mocking manner. “You want more?”

You shake your head, nodding one too many times. “Yes please.” You answered nicely, hoping it does you some justice…and it does.

Seungcheol adds another finger, wiggling his two digits inside of you before slowly working them in and out. “Since you asked so nicely.” All too quickly, he begins to finger you at an excruciatingly fast pace as he dives into you once again. He eats you out as if he’s a starved man and you’re his last meal on earth.

You bit down on your lip rather hard, afraid that if you didn’t the neighbors might call the cops with a noise complaint. The sound of squelching reaches your ears as he finger fucks you, determined to make you cum all over his hand. He groans into your pussy, the vibration traveling up through your body and doing nothing but adding more to the pleasure.

The stimulation of his mouth sucking at your swollen bud and digits buried deep in your sopping wet cunt has you seeing stars. He can sense you’re close to cumming as your hole clenches around his fingers, helping add more friction against that spongy spot inside of you.

“Cum for me babygirl,” — and you do exactly that. With a loud moan ripping through you, your body begins to shake as your orgasm washes over. You can feel every bead of sweat gathering as well as your arousal dripping down and onto the bed, but you don’t seem to care as the only thing you can focus on is receiving what you finally wished for.

“Cheol.” You moaned his name desperately, thrusting your hips against his face as he continued with his relentless abuse on your cunt. He was determined to help you ride your orgasm out and not once did he let up until he was sure you were done.

Moving back up to your face, he placed a passionate kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself. You were breathless and tired, chest heaving from the intense orgasm that he just gave you. “Happy birthday pretty girl.” He says yet again with a grin, but this time there’s a mischievous glint behind it. His lips run along your jaw, leaving small kisses as he allowed his hands to tangle in your hair. “You did so good hmm? My pretty girl.” You could do nothing but roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise, still coming down from the high you had just experienced.

Out of nowhere, still smothering you with kisses, he spoke again. “You can give me one more, can’t you baby?” He asked.

You attempted to protest, but couldn’t do so as you felt overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your skin. The only thing you seemed capable of was watching as he found comfort in the space between your legs yet again.

You were in for a long night, but happy birthday to you.

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snoopyhq · 3 months ago

Note

Can I request smut headcanons where his gn s/o worships Jayce, Viktor, Steb, Vander, Silco, and Ekko's bodies please?

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ the altar is my hips, even if it's a false god

type: misc. arcane characters x gn reader

summary: different body worship with different arcane men

warning: explicit content, mentions of restraints (silk), guided masturbation, mirror play (i think?? idk the name. uh, involves mirrors. viktor's part), implied sex positions, etc. i don't think i can write full blown smut, mainly because i'm not practiced, so i'll try to make it as romantic as i can with extra zealous passion

minors dni, thank you !!!

word count: 1555

a/n: false god is objectively a banger and is one of lover's most underrated tracks.

dividers used made by @/diviniyae

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ JAYCE

he's getting tied to the bedposts

no rope, no handcuffs, no nylon

red silk ribbons adorn his wrists and ankles, contrasting the warm brown of his skin like a trail of your freshly applied lipstick

which is now making its way down the column of his throat

he needs the stability and reassurance

you're restraining his limbs, not to hinder his movement, or as a play on his autonomy, but to hold him down so you could hold him close to you and dote on him like he deserves

he's completely shameless his breathy whimpers and gasps

which is great! it's exactly what you want

you want him to feel safe enough to express himself with you, especially during such an intimate setting

he's the most beautiful canvas in the world, and you're going to turn him into your next masterpiece

he's a marked up mess by the end. lovebites litter his inner thighs and upper body, and god forbid you's skimp out on his neck

each one is a physical reminder of the message you want him to carry with him everyday

i love you, jayce talis. don't you ever forget that

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ VIKTOR

mirror, mirror on the wall. who's the fairest of them all?

it's viktor

this man would be living off work if he could. he doesn't take the time necessary to just spoil himself, so you're taking matters into your own hands

quite literally

after weeks of contradicting schedules, you both have a couple nights completely free

the floor length mirror had its cloth taken off and now stands opposite your shared bed, gleaming faintly in the dim light

you'd taken off his clothes too, slowly, murmuring praises about each newly revealed part of his body

viktor isn't one to blush, but your words always make a softie out of him

you sit behind him, your legs on either side of his as you two look at your reflections. he wants to look away, but your encouragement keeps him from shying away from the revelation of his naked form

your hands find his, and as the jazz music continues its sensual crescendo, you trail them down down down, letting the tips of his fingers ghost over his skin in a featherlight caress

you're kissing his neck and telling him just how great he's doing and how gorgeous he is, and how much he deserves to see himself from your point of view (i love you chappell roan)

his head is thrown back. his soft brown locks are on your shoulders, shifting slightly with his labored breaths as he finally takes the time to love his body the way you always have, with your steady hands over his, guiding his motions and coaxing him to climax

you see now, viktor? can you see just how beautiful you are to me?

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ STEB

i'm sitting here cycling through a myriad of options for him

my first thought was hot springs, but then hmm. gross lowkey. i am a hot springs enjoyer, leave the scenic nature place alone! i berated myself

and then i moved on to a luxury bath

but then i remembered outdoor jacuzzis are a thing, and baths inside in like a house or apartment kind of became boring compared to this

so picture this: outdoor jacuzzi, secluded in the shade of your guys' garden

the giant trees sway in the wind and the sunlight filter through the leaves to create dapples that dance on both your slick skin, your hands on either side of his face as you two move in sync to the slow lapping of the water

he isn't a vocal one, but he has his tells

the way his breath hitches, the half closed eyes, the fluttering his gills when you add extra emphasis on the next roll of your hips

this man's an enforcer (unfortunate)

the stress of work often carries over to other aspects of his life, but he's been trained to remain stoic in the face of adversary

these stolen moments of intimacy are the few times he truly relaxes. be gentle and patient with him, and you'll have him beyond whipped

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ VANDER

the only vanderbilt i know is vander built like the man of mine and sza's dreams

more surface area = more space to love on. btw

being a single dad most of his life is stressful, even more so when you combine it with the leadership needed to keep the lanes in order

the worship you bring him is akin to one for a wine god

you're both getting blacked out wasted

it sounds irresponsible, but hear me out

a space where he doesn't have to be the responsible, upstanding adult in the room, where he can just go buck wild and release his inhibitions? that would fuck so hard, ok

especially having you as his drinking/party buddy

the amount of dirty dancing you'd be getting into with the drinking games available would make a sailor blush

the bedroom is empty, and the commodities of the bar have found their way to this little haven

pour out a cup for this much needed reprieve

maybe upon him too while your clever tongue provides the drunken declarations of love

the only vanderbilt i know is vander built like a fucking snorlax

more surface area = more space to love on. btw

being a single dad most of his life is stressful, even more so when you combine it with the leadership needed to keep the lanes in order

the worship you bring him is akin to one for a wine god

you're both getting blacked out wasted

it sounds irresponsible, but hear me out

a space where he doesn't have to be the responsible, upstanding adult in the room, where he can just go buck wild and release his inhibitions? that would fuck so hard, ok

especially having you as his drinking/party buddy

the amount of dirty dancing you'd be getting into with the drinking games available would make a sailor blush

the bedroom is empty, and the commodities of the bar have found their way to this little haven

pour out a cup for this much needed reprieve

maybe upon him too while your clever tongue provides the drunken declarations of love

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ SILCO

it's a game of tug-of-war

silco is a drug lord and basically rules the underground. he's not relinquishing power without a fight

crafty wit? physical passion? maybe even a game of chess. you choose

the game changes every time, which he finds refreshing and mentally stimulating

it eventually gets to a point where you're finally given the reins

your neck is covered in hickeys and there are scratches down your back by the time it gets there, but they're routine by then

you didn't leave him unharmed either

you may both be panting from the adrenaline and exhilaration, but the true reward comes from the deprivation of senses you love so much

the blindfold goes over, and silco's yours for however long you want to go tonight

you worship him the same way a feral animal would

it's pure instinct and desperation and hurts so good

the consequences can be felt in full later

when you've had enough of your fun, you finally remove the blindfold and let him see the wreck he's made of you, and you of him

make sure to remind him with extra kisses to the left one that he's the apple of your eye, no matter how rotten

aftercare. duh.

he's gotten his hands on the finest creams and bath oils, so you get cleaned and patched up in luxury. rivals a piltovan spa, really

the settle down from such ferocity to something so tame is the perfect balance for your stormy relationship

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ EKKO

worshipping ekko is an event that takes place over the course of the entire day

you've planned it down to the letter

similar to vander, he's in charge of so much and takes care of so many people, so you wanted to be the one pampering him for once

breakfast is brought to him in bed, and the watching the sunrise is a relaxing start to the day

here comes a medley of dates

a walk down his favorite street and hitting the shopping district

you insist he get himself something from at least three different stores

then treating him to lunch before heading off on your hoverboards as you guys race through the sky

back home, you'd put together a skincare basket to do together. the whole routine of exfoliate, moisturize, and then the face masks

you talk about the exciting day you just had, fingers intertwined the whole time until it's time to take the masks-and clothes-off

he doesn't let himself relax often, but around you?

completely gone

you make slow, leisurely love, taking every second as a chance to appreciate him, his body, his voice and that brilliant mind of his

everything about him really

as for aftercare, you'd go to the kitchen, and cook a simple meal to enjoy together before falling asleep right in the living room, too tired to trek back to the bedroom

he's the little spoon tonight

you left no room for argument, wanting to be the one to cradle him close to you and make him feel just as safe and protected as he makes you everyday

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