#last one......i have feelings for u sir.......

[drunkenbagel]

Hi,can u do prompt 3 and 5 with pedro cause i loved the last one u did😍

thank you for reading!! hope you like it :) xx

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actor/actress gn!reader Word count: 1,9k Contents: mentions of minor injuries (slight blood mentions, fainting, bruising, etc), mostly fluff

“Can you repeat my line again? I'm not my best today, sorry”

A girl behind the cameras held your script up and repeated your line once more. At this point you were feeling overwhelmed, having to repeat the short scene so many times just because your mind didn't focus. Even more since this was a big project, so on top of that you felt ashamed and anxious.

Finally, the scene went ahead and everything went as planned, getting to the next scene, which was a fight one.

One, two three, four. One two, three. One, two, three, four. You counted your steps and movements, rehearsing. One, two-

“Watch out!”

You heard the yell before the cracking sound, and while you looked up you saw one of the lights come off of the ceiling.

Uh-oh.

-·-·-·-

Pedro had heard from some people on the crew that someone in the studio next to theirs had an accident, and immediately spiraled into worry. You were in that area. There's many people there, it can't be her. The studios are huge. Yeah, no. It's definitely not her. Yet he couldn't concentrate. He threw the script into the table and hopped off the chair, determined to ease his worries.

“I'm goin' to the other studio, alright? I'll come back before the break is over” he said to one of the crew members.

He started to walk to the door that led outside, and he noticed how more and more people were whispering while walking from the other studio to the one he was in. That made him more nervous, and he started walking faster. When he pushed the door, he was immediately greeted by the sight of a few ambulances and a crowd of people standing around all over the place. That's when he saw a couple of paramedics wheeling you to the ambulance. Bloody.

His heart sank and he swore it skipped a few beats. Before he could register it he was running to the ambulance, shoving some people around to get inside before they carried you away. He jumped in.

“Sir you can't be in here unless-”

“I'm family”

The other paramedic shut the door after receiving a nod from the one that was on the truck with you, and started to drive to the hospital. He couldn't do anything but watch as the man started to change the bloody cloth he was pressing onto your forehead, which was reeling with blood. Pedro took your hand.

“What's going on? What the hell happened?”

“Apparently a few of the stage lights fell off and landed on some people, most of them without major injuries, except for her” he answered, while putting some oxygen tubes around your nose and trying to stop the head wound from bleeding. “Got the worst deal, seems like it broke some ribs, got hit pretty bad on the head. We'll know more about the internal injuries when we get from the hospital.”

The ride felt like they took the longest way to the hospital. Once they arrived, they wheeled you back out and into the ER.

“Sir, you can't go in there” a nurse said, stopping Pedro with a hand on his chest. He just watched as they took you to the area where only staff could cross. He pointed at the seats a few meters away. “You can wait in the waiting area”

If he thought the ride was the worst, he was completely mistaken. The wait was killing him. He got a few calls from the director and colleagues, asking where he was, but all he could do is give them some half-assed answers of why he wouldn't be coming back. The anxiety was eating him. He couldn't stop pacing back and forth, picking at his nails, waiting for someone to bring any news. When a doctor finally called your name, he looked up and almost ran to him.

“How are they?” he asked anxiously.

“Stable. There's a minor concussion, but nothing too serious luckily. They have been admitted to the hospital, I can take you to the room, if you'd like”

He followed the doctor to the room, and when he opened the door, his heart sank to his stomach. There you were, unconscious, bandaged and bruised, machine beeping steadily.

“They may not wake up for a few days, but that is normal. We'll be monitoring them constantly” she said, seeing the anxious look on his face. “You can stay as much as you'd like. Got a chair, the bathroom and the small sofa. Figured you might want to sleep next to her”

Pedro thanked the doctor and walked over to the bed and delicately brushed your hair away from your face, seeing the bruising on one of the sides. Fuck, you looked battered. He pulled the chair closer and took your hand on his, waiting for you to wake up.

-·-·-·-

Everything hurt. Even with your eyes closed, you felt like a truck had ran you over. Then you remembered the accident. Ah, shit.

You slowly opened your eyes, trying not to be blinded by the white light. The beeping sound was drilling into your head, making the heavy headache worse. With a sigh, you went to push the button to call a doctor and see if they could turn it off, but you couldn't, since your hand was feeling very heavy.

Please don't be a cast.

When you looked at it with painfully squinting eyes, you found the source of the weight: Pedro was laying his upper body on the side of the bed, and his hand was on yours. You couldn't help but smile. He looked so soft with his curly hair everywhere, lips parted in a slight snore. You ran your free hand by his hair, looking lovingly at him. He looked quite tired and a bit dishevelled, too. That made you frown. You looked behind him to find a blanket on the small sofa. Since when was he here? Since when were you here?

Like as to answer your questions, a nurse came in with a chart to check on you. When she looked up and saw you awake, she smiled.

“Hey, glad to see you've woken up. Got ya' man here worried sick” she said as she approached you and started looking at your screens.

“If it's not much of a bother, can you take the beeping machine off? It's killing my head” you mustered, trying to seat up in pain.

“Oh sure sugar, you got a big hit to the head, and these things can be annoying, but just glad you're awake” she said as she turned the machine silent. You sighed in relief. “How you feelin'?”

“Like I got smashed by a giant stage light” you answered with smile, sighing. You clutched your side in pain, noticing the bandages. “What day is it? How long have I been here?”

“You got here a almost a week ago, been sleepin' for the entirety of it. But the handsome man you've got there has not left your side for a second. Got here at the same time as you in the ambulance.”

“He got hurt too?” you worriedly asked.

“Oh no sugar, he got here with you as a visitor. Poor thing was worried sick when you were in the staff area being attended to” she said with a smile. “You've got a good one there. Is he your husband?”

You lowered your eyes to look at him and unconsciously smiled. “No, no. Gosh, I wish. Just... Uh, just my best friend”

“Well if my boyfriend waited that long without leavin' my side I would definitely put a ring on him” she said with a cheeky smile. “But anyways, how's your head? Any dizziness, nausea, blurry vision?”

“No, only a bit of ringing in my ears at first but that is gone now. Just the hammering headache” you answered as she took out a small light and looked at your eyes.

“Well, your pupils are workin' fine so that's a good signal. Now that you've woken up, we'll keep you in observation for a little while more, but you should be good to go in a couple of days.”

“That's good” said a raspy voice on your left. You turned your head to find a sleepy looking Pedro, still holding your hand. “Hello darlin', good to see you're finally awake”

You smiled and hugged him as the nurse left the room.

“Why are you here? Nurse told me it's been almost a week! You should have gone home” you scolded him, but with a soft voice. “And your filming! Have you really been here all this time?”

“Yeah. And I'm not gonna say sorry for it. Went home once to get some clothes, the old ones were starting to smell” he said with a smile. “You'd be damn crazy if you thought I would leave you”

“Have I ever told you how you're the best friend in the whole world?”

“Sometimes, yes” he said with a chuckle. “Um, about that... I kind of heard you and the nurse”

Oh no. You felt your cheeks getting warmer and warmer.

“I- It was a joke, I... I was joking” you said, laughing nervously.

“What if I told you that I didn't want it to be a joke? If you meant it seriously?” he said, swallowing hard, holding your hand a bit tighter. “Would you... What would you say to that?”

Your mouth opened, but you couldn't get an answer out, just stammering. “I- uhm, I-”

Pedro felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest with all the loud thumping in his ears. Maybe he shouldn't have asked? Maybe it was a joke? Unfortunately, there was no turning back.

“What would your answer be if I asked you to be my girlfriend?”

You froze. “W- what?”

He took a deep breath while closing his eyes. When he exhaled, his eyes met yours again. “I love you. I've liked you for a long time. Probably since the first time we met. This accident made me realize that I can't stop denying it, and I- I just need to know. If you don't, I'll never bring it up again and I'll be your friend. I can do that. I will, if that's what you want me to. And, shit, I know this is a lot to take in, and probably not the best of places to confess, but I can't go on anymore without an answer”

There was a silence between the two of you. Not a sound came from your throat, mouth staying agape. Pedro sighed, and he let your hand go with his eyes closed.

“I underst-”

“Ask me again”

He opened his eyes to find you looking at him with an expression he couldn't decipher. “I... What?”

“Ask me again”

Pedro hesitated. “Would- would you like to be my girlfriend?”

The couple of seconds that you waited to answer felt like an eternity to him, but seeing your smile turn into a grin and a little laugh made his heart stop.

“I thought you'd never ask. Come here” you said, yanking him by his shit to your level, and joined your lips together.

It felt electrifying. Kissing him after so long of being just friends, so many fantasies, so many dreams, felt like the best thing ever. When you softy pulled away and opened your eyes, you were met with his big brown eyes almost tearing up.

“Hey” you said, cupping his face with one of your hands. “Are you alright? Wanna take it back?”

“Never in my wildest dreams.”

[prapais]

Khaotung Thanawat as AYAN. — THE ECLIPSE ⋮ EPISODE 02

[kuiinncedes]

lol this fucking newsletter for glowstick club if anyone says anything slightly not good about it i'll cry <3

[temiizpalace]

☆┊DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND..

SUMMARY: little things he does that remind you you’re going to marry him someday.

CHARACTERS: all dorms (-ortho)

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: none

reader gender is not mentioned, reader is not mentioned to be yuu

MAKING YOU MEALS

he makes sure you eat RIGHT. no more skipping meals throughout the day on his watch. every lunch he’ll make you a cute little bento box so you don’t have to wait in line. and when i say cute, i mean cute. it doesn’t matter what gender you are your rice balls will have cat ears. dinner? come over to his dorm and he’ll make something for you. don’t feel like it? he’s going to your place and cooking there. breakfast? he makes something quick yet delicious for you. he’s like your own private chef, and you can only imagine what it’d be like to see a ring on his finger someday.

trey, ruggie, azul, jamil, lilia (good luck), silver

CLEANING YOUR ROOM (and everything else)

it doesn’t matter if your room is messy, tidy, or anything in between, every month he’ll make sure it is SPOTLESS. is there dust on your shelves? nuh uh. are there random stains on your floor that you thought were impossible to get out? he’s rushing to your rescue and somehow got the stain out. did you not want to go through your homework? everything is suddenly organized in its respective subject, going from A-Z. you’ve never seen your room so tidy before, it was like an epiphany. please just marry him on the spot, he’s begging.

riddle, deuce, jade, jamil, vil, sebek

LEAVING LITTLE POST-IT NOTES ON YOUR BELONGINGS

without fail, you’ll find a cute little sticky-note on your almost all of your belongings. sure, it gets annoying once in awhile, but reading the sweet message on it changes your mind almost instantly. “you’re going to do great today! stay strong. :)” “don’t forget to drink water! love you 🫶” “can we go out soon? my treat. text me when u see this!” it’s almost frightening to see how much yellow papers you keep inside your desk every time you opening it, but can anyone really blame you? you’re going to keep these til the day you die, and that grand total might be at the very least over 100,000.

ace, deuce, cater, jack, floyd, kalim, epel, rook

RANDOM GIFTS

expect to see a neatly wrapped gift on your doorstep almost every week. seriously. it’s like a delivery service except the company is literally your boyfriend. “dear, did you get me this?” you ask as you enter the room. he looks up from his phone as he looks at the expensive name brand sweatshirt in your hands. “yeah.” he answered so nonchalantly!! like sir!!! this sweater was 1000000 thaumarks!! what!! while you do appreciate the gesture, you feel bad he’s spending so much money on you. he doesn’t care though!! he’ll spoil you rotten til your very last breath.

leona, azul, floyd, kalim, vil, idia, malleus

PREPPING YOU SNACKS

depending on who this is, he may not be some gordon ramsay level chef, but he’s definitely more than happy to cut you a some apple slices while you study. sometimes he’ll come into your room with a backpack full of your favorite snacks just left at the side of your desk so you can reach down and grab the one you want to eat that day. sometimes all you need is an energy boost and he’s more than happy to make some coffee or tea for you if you’re busy. he’ll press a kiss or two on your forehead before placing the plate of beautifully cut fruit down and continuing on with his day and going back to his thoughts. now, what will the theme of your wedding be?

ace, deuce, trey, jade, jack, jamil, epel, malleus

A/N: notice how jamil and deuce are in almost every category. (sorry this one was kinda rushed 😭😭)

date published: 7/30/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[6esiree]

“Oh, so your fingers worked when they were inside of me last night, but today they can’t text me back?”

I saw this on Instagram and tried to imagine how my five fav Hazbin men would react if you texted them this. I whipped this up pretty quickly so sorry if it’s crap, LOL <3

Alastor:

Alastor only has a phone so you can contact him whenever you need to, and he usually answers right away, the only exception being when he’s busy. But the one time he accidentally leaves you on read because he’s out with Rosie, getting sidetracked by an interesting revelation, you decide to hit him up with this and, oh, he’s visibly horrified, flustered even, when he finally reads it.

“Is something the matter, Alastor?” Rosie asks, putting her teacup down as she notices the look on his face. “Oh my! Are you…blushing?”

“Excuse me for just a second,” Alastor says as he stiffly stands up, pushing his seat in and turning away, furiously typing at his phone.

“I am with Rosie. We will talk about this when I get home, understood?”

“Ok, I’ll be waiting for u <3.”

“Kiss your legs goodbye, ma chérie, because you will be unable to walk for a while.”

Lucifer:

Whenever you go out, you like to text Lucifer to see how he’s doing. This man answers FAST as fuck, that is why the one time he doesn’t you hit him up with this, trying to get his attention. When he finally checks his phone his heart instantly drops—I mean, what is he supposed to feel? He’s a blushing mess as he recalls what you did last night, but he’s also panicking, so he decides to call you.

“Hey, honey! I’m so, so sorry, I was in the middle of something. My fingers work just fine, by the way, I can show you if you come back home—“

“Christ, Luci! I was just trying to get you to answer.”

“Pretty please?”

Husk:

Husk takes his sweet ass time responding to your texts, so the best way to reach him is to call him. However, it’s just one of those rare occasions where you can’t do that, hitting him up with this to try to get his attention. Husk has company at the bar, that’s why when he finally sees your text he immediately turns his back to everybody, cursing under his breath as he tries to adjust himself through his pants.

“Oh, babydoll. Just wait until you get home,” Husk texts you back, pissed off but also slightly amused, especially when you answer him.

“Haha, ok…whatever u say old man :P.”

“You’re lucky Angel can't mind his own fucking business, otherwise I’d have something to say about that.”

Vox:

Unless he’s busy with something or he’s pissed off with you, Vox will answer your texts right away. The one time he forgets to tell you he has a meeting, you hit him up with this after trying to reach him for a while. Vox steals a glance at his phone, his screen slightly glitching when he’s asked to put in his two cents about something because he’s flustered. As soon as the meeting is over with, though, he teleports to your room, utterly embarrassed.

“I was in a MEETING! What in the Hell were you thinking?”

“Hey, I didn’t know that, I swear!”

“Yeah, yeah, now come over here, sweetheart. Let me demonstrate how well my fingers work on you.”

Adam:

Adam is 50/50 when it comes to answering your texts. Sometimes he’ll answer quickly, and sometimes he won’t, which can be frustrating. When you hit him up with this, it’s one of those times that he’s taking hours to see your texts, even leaving you on read when he finally opens them because his memory is shit. Adam is out with Lute, his eyes bugging out of his head when he decides to check his phone. I mean, hey, what’s up with that?

“Sir? Where are you going?” Lute asks him, watching him spread his wings, but Adam doesn’t answer, leaving before she can notice his boner.

“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? You gave me a boner in public, you stupid—!”

“Well, start answering your texts then, Adam! And don't you dare finish that sentence, or no sex for a week.”

“I'm so sorry, baby. I love you so much and I will answer your texts right away from now on.”

[dwaekkicidal]

Who are you calling a baby?

˚ʚJeongin x Fem!readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: You decide to join Stray Kids in teasing their maknae, your boyfriend, about being a "little baby." Let's just say he doesn't take very lightly to it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, mean!dom Jeongin (🤭), rough sex, degradation (calls u stupid and 'dirty girl'), traffic light system brought up once, hair pulling (once), spanking, a sprinkle of dacryphilia, creampie, no protection (don't be silly, wrap ur willy also pee after sex), aftercare mentioned but not thoroughly, think that's all?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: I was actually gnawing at the bars of my enclosure trying not to make this into a "sir/daddy" thing (I should've. it prob would have been so much better bc i hate this grrr)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

You laugh along with Chan as he and Seungmin sit beside you, the three of you watching as Hyunjin lets his cuteness aggression loose on Jeongin. Ruffling his hair and throwing his whole body weight onto the poor maknae. They're taking one last break from their dance practice, deciding to go a few more rounds before heading home.

"You'll always be our baby, Jeongin~" Han sings to Jeongin, to no particular rhythm. Jeongin laughs but desperately crawls out of Hyunjin's grasp, seeking protection from a spot on the floor between your legs.

"He's just a babyy! My lil' baby boy~'' You tease at him, smiling fondly before pinching his cheeks. He looks up at you and pouts cutely.

"I'm not a baby.."

"Yes you are! You're our cute little baby~ You prove my point when you make a face like that!" You laugh, brushing his hair back to make it more presentable after Hyunjin's attack before grabbing his chin and squishing his cheeks to prove your point even further. A few of the guys around you laugh and join in, poking and tickling at Jeongin while throwing in comments here and there about him being their Baby Bread, him laughing as he tries to protect himself from their attacks.

Eventually the 7 of them stand up and walk towards their spots on the floor. Your boyfriend sits on the floor a little longer, catching his breath as he looks up at you, staring into your eyes with a blank expression. Your eyes catch his and you tilt your head down at him, smiling. He stares for a few moments longer, expression unchanging, before quickly standing up and walking towards his dedicated spot. You think nothing of it and pull out your phone, mindlessly scrolling on a random choice of social media and getting comfortable.

After some time of hearing the same part of a song on repeat, you feel a pair of eyes burning into you. Looking up, you see the boys discussing a mistake somebody made. As you scan the boys, you meet your boyfriend's gaze. His eyes boring into you with another unreadable expression before he narrows his eyes towards you and turns back to the mirror, getting into position. You furrow your eyebrows at the back of his head, staring at him a little longer in hopes that he would turn around and explain himself. Is he upset about the teasing? Surely he knows I'm just messing around.. Once you realize that won't happen you sigh and shake your head, turning your attention to our phone once again. Assuming that he would get over this "fit" soon.

Not long after this, the guys all agree to call it a night. Jeongin opted to stay at your place for the weekend since you both had the next few days off. "I just want to spend some sweet time with my girlfriend," he explains to his hyungs. But the tightening grip on the back of your neck tells you otherwise.

The ride to your apartment was quiet aside from the radio. His hand never left your thigh and occasionally squeezed when he felt your gaze on him. Before you know it, the both of you are walking into your bedroom

"Are you okay? You've been super quiet for the last few hours." You ask, setting your bag down on the dresser and taking your (his) sweater off, landing it on the edge of the bed. You take a seat as he turns to you, his arms cross and his expression blank asides from the bump you see on his cheek. His tongue poking his cheek out in what you can only assume is annoyance or anger.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know.. you've been super quiet since the little teasing fiasco earlier.. Are you actually mad?" He raises an eyebrow at the way you enunciate the word 'actually,' but chooses to stay quiet and frowns down at you.

"Oh my gosh.. you're actually upset?" You laugh, standing up and taking a step forward so that you're in front of him "Baby...." You start as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, planting a kiss on the corner of his lip before continuing, "You know I was just messing with you, it's all playful banter. You're my baby and I'm yours, there's nothing wrong with that. I'm sorry that you got upset." You giggle, showering him in kisses before you feel his arms unfold and reach behind you to embrace you.

Melting into his embrace, you litter more kisses on his face, waiting for a response. When you still don't get one, you pull away slightly to check on him only to be met with a smile. One that doesn't quite meet his eyes. One you thought was genuine until one of his hands trails into your hair, grabbing a tight handful, and tilting your head back forcibly. Your eyes screw shut as you wince, whimpering when you feel his hot breath on your neck.

He plants a few kisses silently before pulling back and smirking, loosening his grip so you look at him again. "What happened to all that laughing? Fox got your tongue?"

You pout and open your mouth to say something before he pushes you forcefully onto the bed. It catches you off guard and you take a second to try to even your breathing as he leans down, pushing your back to meet the bed and hovering over you. His lips ghost around your jawline and your neck, occasionally leaving wet kisses and small marks and rendering you breathless.

"C'mon baby... keep running your pretty little mouth.." He says, one of his hands by your head moving to slowly trail down your body until he meets your waist. He caresses your hips softly before continuing, "My hyungs aren't here to protect you anymore. So let's see if you still think you're oh so funny.." You let out a gargled noise as he bites down on your collarbone, moaning lightly as his hand moves to unbuckle your jeans, pulling them off you in one fell swoop as he pulls away from your neck.

When you don't say anything he lands an open handed smack on your thigh. "Why is the 'little boy' like me taking control? Use your words like the big girl that you swear you are."

You whimper at the sting on your thigh, but look him in the eyes and suddenly it's your turn to pout. "I said I was sorry baby, you know I didn't mean it like that." He lands another smack in the same area, not liking your response. He rubs the area to soothe the pain, but also as a warning of what's to come.

He leans forward and the other hand grabs your chin, making you keep eye contact, before leaning forward, "Let's see how far acting coy will get you. Sit up."

You feel your stomach tighten at his demandingness, but you listen and sit up on shaky arms. He pulls your shirt over your head before pulling off his own, throwing both behind him without looking.

"Color?" He asks, as he pushes your legs apart with his knee.

"Green" you whisper back, breathing heavily as he bends down to place a kiss on your stomach, pulling your underwear from under your ass and down your legs. You feel him smirk against your stomach, "Of course it is... dirty, dirty girl."

He trails small kisses down your stomach at an agonizingly slow pace. Eventually he reaches your pelvis, he swats at your thigh when your leg twitches in anticipation before meeting your eyes and speaking up again. "I want your eyes on me at all times. No closing your eyes, no looking away. Okay?"

You nod your head and watch as he shoots you a crooked smile, making sure to hold eye contact with you before leaning in and placing a kiss directly on your clit. Immediately two of his long fingers softly rub along your folds, gathering your wetness before you feel them slide against your gummy walls, quickly finding the spot that has your legs weak. He makes a good pace off the bat; not too fast and not too slow. Your eyes still stare into his, and you let out moans as he fingers you while licking his lips. He leans down further and places kisses on your inner thigh and uses his free hand to undo his jeans, pushing them down with his boxers just enough so his cock bounces out. He strokes himself a few times and tilts his head at you teasingly as he makes a particularly hard thrust. His gaze moves between your legs as he adds a third finger and frees his other hand to massage your clit.

With his piercing gaze not on your face, you quickly forget your previous promise to keep your eyes on him and you throw your head back. You let out a particularly loud moan as your eyes close and your legs shake, struggling to stay spread. He suddenly pulls his hands away from you and lands a harsh slap to your clit, pushing your legs apart when they clamp shut from the sudden sting. You squeal loudly in surprise and your head jolts forward, your eyes opening to look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and tears pricking your eyes.

"Do you not know how to listen? Or are you just trying to piss me off again?" He grumbles, frowning at you as he pushes your knees to your chest. He holds you in place as he lands another smack to your cunt. "I was gonna be nice about it and spoil you, but since you don't know how to follow basic instructions, we'll do this my way. Be good for fucking once and hold your legs for me, yeah?" He spits out, pulling his hands away when you shakily hug the backs of your knees. He rubs his tip against your folds repeatedly before dipping just the tip in.

" 'M sorry-yyyy!" You try saying before he cuts you off and bottoms out. He groans and leans forward, towering over you and placing his hands beside your head, planting himself above you. He pulls out all the way to the tip before locking eyes with you and smiling smugly at you, "Yeah? You're sorry? My pretty little baby is sorry?" When you open your mouth to respond he suddenly thrusts all the way into the hilt, pulling a loud moan from your lips as you furrow your eyebrows, closing your eyes yet again.

"Aww, baby... What am I gonna do with you.. Too cock-dumb to follow basic instructions…” he laughs at you before finding a fast pace, one that has you seeing stars as he pounds into you repeatedly. The angle you're in makes him hit all the right angles constantly while still making him go so deep. So much so that you feel him hit your cervix a few times, making you whimper as you look up at him with teary eyes.

You moan out his name as your grip on your legs tighten, already feeling so close after cumming not long ago.

"Don't worry baby, sit there nice and pretty for me and I'll take care of you. I'll let it slide just this once and 'll fuck you nice and stupid, okay? Though.. I'm not so sure it will be any different than how stupid you normally are?"

"Pleaseee" You whine out, a few tears finally falling at the mix of his words and the constant stimulation. He laughs at you and moves one of his hands to your mouth, tapping your lips to let him in. You open your mouth enough so that his thumb enters your mouth, and you knowingly suck on his fingers. Once he deems it wet enough he pulls his thumb out and moves it to where you two meet, messily rub circles onto your clit.

"Jeongin... 's so goodd" You cry out at the extra stimulation, nails digging further into your legs.

He leans back and his free hand reaches forward to smear your tears into your cheek, "Stop crying baby, you can take it. mmmmmm.. You will take it. You owe me for being such a bitch earlier and trying to embarrass me in front of my hyungs."

You moan loudly and throw your head back, tilting it slightly to look up at him, "Fffuck baby! I.. I promise, I swear I didn't mean it like-" Before you can finish he grabs your face and pulls you forward, "C'mon, babe, I know you can make up a better excuse than that. Or are you too cock-dumb to use your pretty little head? Hm??" He teases, ending his sentence with another slap to your clit, one that makes you loosen your hold on your legs.

Your eyes gloss over and he smirks, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaning back and continuing his brutal pace. When he feels you grip him stronger he knows you're close and he pushes further, in order to get you there faster. "You gonna come? Huh, pretty little thing?" You nod and moan mindlessly as you look up at him, mumbling out mindless pleads before he pushes your knees into your chest again and chases both of your highs.

"Then cum, stupid baby. Milk me dry, okay? Be a good girl baby." He says out of breath, as he leans forward and pulls you into a kiss. One of his hands comes down on your ass and it's enough to send you over the edge. You're squeezing him like a vice and it's enough for him to finish next. He breaks the kiss to groan, pulling away to stare where the two of you meet, watching his cum get fucked out of you with each thrust. Once he rides out both of your highs, he leans forward to leave hickeys in your collarbone.

After a short time, he pulls out slowly and softly lays your legs against the bed. You sigh at the empty feeling, but are thankful that your legs can stretch out.

"F-Fffuck.. Jeonginnn'' You whine, feeling even more cum drip out of you. He laughs and leans forward to pull you into a kiss, softly smudging his cum along your folds with his fingers before leaving a final, much softer, slap. He leaves soft kisses all over your face as you catch your breath, mumbling an 'I'll be right back' before disappearing into your bathroom. You faintly hear the water running and he quickly returns, wiping you down with a cloth that was soaked with warm water. You finally catch your breath e as he throws the cloth onto the pile of your clothes from earlier, deciding to put them in the hamper later.

You look up at him and give him a sex-drunk smile, giggling as he lays next to you before pulling you into his side. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest one of your legs on his hip, and he massages it to sooth the muscles as his other hand draws circles into your back. He holds eye contact with you for a moment before pulling you into a kiss.

"You okay baby?" He asks, pulling away to smother your face in kisses as he gives you time to respond.

"Amazing, actually... " You mumble out, pulling him in for another kiss.

"Good... Rest up baby, you're gonna need it." He says between kisses and lands a smack to your ass. He laughs in your face as you look at him with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. He grinds against your core and you realize that he's hard again, making your eyes widen a little.

"Oh, my love.... you thought we were done?"

[hazbinwhoree]

OMG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CAN U DO A

yandere adam x reader x yandere lucifer

like basically durning the last extermination adam sees the sinner and basically fall heads over wings for them

and yk durning the heaven meeting he made a globe to watch angel dust i feel like he makes that globe thing to watch the reader see how there doing and sees that lucifer is too close to them

i feel like he would try to do anything to get them into heaven with him and far away from lucifer be he already took his first wife and maybe his second and he doesn’t want him to take his third wife

(SORRY IF ITS LONG)

The Third Wife

Part 1/2 Part 2

Yandere!Adam x Reader x Yandere!Lucifer

A/N: I had fun writing this but I don’t plan on a part 2 because I don’t know where to take it from here. I hope you enjoy!

Lucifer had taken Lilith, and Eve, and now he was going to take (Name). He met her first, it wasn’t fair Adam was trying to steal her. (Name) was a human on Earth who had summoned Lucifer a few months back to strike a deal. Lucifer found her adorable and endearing and found himself slowly catching feelings. He planned to convince her to join him in Hell.

Adam had Lilith stolen from him by Lucifer. Then Eve. He’d be damned if he lost (Name) too.

He first met (Name) during an extermination, (she had died and reincarnated as a sinner) and to his own surprise, he fell hard. He became obsessive, spending most of his free time in Heaven holed up in his room watching (Name) through his globe. He had to make sure she and Lucifer weren’t getting too close while he tried to figure out how to get (Name) into Heaven.

To Adam’s dismay, (Name) joined the princess’ stupid hotel. That meant more time spent with Lucifer. Adam couldn’t let that happen. The more he watched, the more possessive Lucifer began to act over (Name). It infuriated Adam. He came to the conclusion there was only one way to get (Name) away from Lucifer to be with him.

He was going to approve of Miss Sunshine and Rainbows’ Hazbin Hotel.

Lute was appalled when he told her. “But why, sir?” “None of your fucking business,” Adam snapped. “Tell the bitch princess I want another meeting.”

Adam actually came to Hell to meet with Charlie.

“So…” Charlie looked skeptical. “What’s this about? I thought you were too good to come to Hell outside of the extermination.”

“I’m giving your stupid little hotel the green light.”

“What?” Both Charlie and Vaggie’s jaws dropped.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Don’t shit your panties.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Vaggie asked suspiciously.

“Doesn’t matter. You gonna give me a tour so I know what I’m agreeing to?”

Charlie wasn’t nearly as suspicious as Vaggie. “Of course!” She was practically bouncing with excitement. “Come with us!”

When they entered Hazbin Hotel, all the residents stopped what they were doing to stare. Adam made eye contact with (Name). She was the only one who mattered.

“What is he doing here?” The porn demon asked.

Charlie linked her arm through Adam’s and he tried not to grimace. “Adam has agreed to the Hazbin Hotel! We’re giving him a tour!” The residents looked skeptical. Except for (Name), who smiled and waved at him. His heart fluttered.

Charlie dragged Adam around the hotel, talking his ear off and introducing him to different residents and discussing their progress. When she got to (Name), Adam cut her off. “We’ve met.”

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed. “Good!”

“Charlie–” a voice sounded from down the hallway. Lucifer had rounded the corner, calling his daughter’s name, but he stopped abruptly when he saw Adam. “What the fuck.”

“Dad!” Charlie tugged Adam over to him. “Adam said yes to the hotel!” “Did he now?” Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Adam. Adam narrowed his back. The energy was palpable as they stared one another down. “Your change of heart wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with (Name), would it?”

Adam smirked and answered with silence. Lucifer was fuming. “Alllright… that’s enough of that. I’ll talk to you later, Dad!” Charlie broke them up, leading Adam back to the lobby.

At the door, far enough from any nosey ears, Adam stopped Charlie. “The agreement comes with a stipulation, princess.” Charlie’s face fell. “Relax, sweetie, it’s not a big deal. If sinners are cleansing their souls and coming to Heaven, I want (Name) to be the first.” Charlie looked relieved. “Deal!” They shook on it.

When Adam left, Lucifer approached his daughter. “You can’t trust him, Charlie, he definitely has ulterior motives.” “He only had one stipulation,” Charlie smiled. “(Name) is to be the first sinner redeemed!” “What?”

Lucifer was furious. He knew Adam had been up to something.

“Tell me you didn’t agree, Charlie.”

Charlie looked confused. “I did… why wouldn’t I? (Name) is here to be redeemed, who cares about the order?”

“I care! Because I was going to convince her to stay in Hell!”

Charlie was surprised. “What, why?”

But Lucifer was already storming away. He stormed straight to (Name)’s room and banged on the door. She answered it, and as soon as she did, Lucifer pushed his way into the room and shut the door.

“Well, hello to you too,” (Name) said sarcastically.

“I want you to stay in Hell.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay in Hell,” Lucifer repeated. “Why?” (Name) asked. “Because I’m in love with you!”

(Name)’s mouth fell open, moving as she tried to form words, but nothing came out.

Lucifer took her hands in his. “Please. Say something.”

“Lucifer that’s… that’s a lot. I care about you, a lot, I do, but I want to go to Heaven. My quality of life down here is shit, and you can’t change that.”

“But I can!” Lucifer insisted. “Be mine and I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.”

“I’m sorry,” (Name) said, looking sympathetic. “I want Heaven.”

Lucifer continued to try to get her to change her mind over the next month as she worked to be redeemed, but before he knew it, her soul was cleansed and Heaven was ready to take her.

Adam was of course the first to greet her, a massive grin on his face. “Welcome to Heaven, babe! Congrats on getting out of that shithole. Let me show you around.” He offered her his hand, and his face warmed under his mask when she took it without hesitation. He had won.

Lucifer was scheming, no doubt, but for now, Adam had won.

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

FOLIE Á DEUX ─── jonathan crane ✧

ೃ⁀➷ “Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it's gritty and dirty and possessive, sometimes it's not supposed to be careful or soft at all. Sometimes it feels like teeth.” - Azra T.

pairing. professor!jonathan crane x stalker!reader

summary. you’ve been stalking your professor for 8 months, keeping track of his movements with your diary. one day, said professor informs that you left something of yours behind in his office…

warnings. swearing, choking, p in v, dacryphilia, oral sex (f), dubcon (if u squint), stalking, breeding, orgasm delay/denial, unprotected sex, hair pulling, student-teacher relationship, SMUT UNDER THE CUT

word count. 4.5k

a/n. this is my first ever smut, so if it sucks i really do apologize. also, im kinda unsure where the plot on this one went, but whatever! lastly, i do try to keep all my fics gender-neutral, but seeing as this is smut, i had to choose, and the reader is afab.

“Miss [Name], please stay behind after class. I need just a moment's worth of your time.” Your professor said absently, not looking at you, when he handed back your essay on the human id.

You hummed, nodding your head carefully. “Yes, Professor Crane.” 

Inwardly, you swooned at his choice of words: “I need just a moment's worth of your time.” He’d highlighted the existence of both you and him in the sentence, as if coexisting together, with one another, was plausible.

Later, when class ended, you’d packed up all your things, and walked into Professor Crane’s office off to the side, where he was tidying up. 

“You asked me to stay behind, sir?” 

“Yes,” Crane acknowledged your presence, looking at you squarely. “You forgot something in my office during our last tutoring session.” 

Your eyes widened slightly, both at the fact you’d left one of your items behind, and that your Professor had seen the item, and knew it belonged to you. He hadn’t mistaken it as his own, or anyone else's - he knew it was yours.

“Oh!” You said, a beat later. “Thank you for telling me. Where is it, exactly?”

“Before we get to that matter - do take a seat - I believe we need to have a, ah, talk.” He gestured to the seat in front of his office desk, the same seat you sat on every Wednesday at 6:30 for the past few months. 

“A talk, sir?” You pried, but sat down anyway, reveling in the one-on-one time you were experiencing with your favorite professor. 

That was the main motivator for getting tutored by the man - you adored going in, having an entire hour of him all to yourself. 

Prior, you pretended not to get some of his lessons, let your grade in his psychology class slip to a pitiful mark so low he couldn’t ignore it. You’d started the semester with a stellar grade, so he took it upon himself to offer tutoring - he knew you could understand his method of teaching, and theorized that you hadn’t been able to pay attention in class because of the sheer size of people attending. 

In actuality, however, you understood everything completely - it was merely your obsessive attraction following him like the sound of thunder trailing behind lightning. 

Crane scrubbed his face when you sat, thinking intently on what he wanted to say. “I need you to understand, Miss [Name], that a student-teacher relationship is completely taboo. Such a thing can never - should never, occur.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and suddenly, you were reminded how you hadn’t seen that book in a while, you hadn’t read it when you woke up, when you went for lunch, you hadn’t even written anything about him for the day—

Your professor slid open one of his desk drawers, and pulled out the familiar pocket notebook you kept with yourself at all times. 

“I’m telling you about rules, Miss [Name], because you forgot this.” He said, voice low. “And, pardon my intrusion, but the stuff you have written here is quite… intriguing.”

Your heart began racing in your chest, a cold sweat trailing down your back. “Professor, I- whatever you read in there—“ You began, but froze when he opened the notebook, thumbing through the pages. 

Crane cleared his throat, looking intently at the words. His expression changed several times as his eyes flitted over your writing, and you felt your body burn with shame. 

“January 26th. Professor's gloves were found in the nook of his podium. I was looking for the green apple he’d forgo from finishing, his teeth tracks fresh on the alabaster flesh, but found his winter wear instead. Gloves were brought home - I imagined he’d come over to mine, undressed his biting winter clothing, and forgot his sweet mittens here.” Your professor read your diary out loud. Crane looked like he enjoyed your shame being laid out bare, but you were too absorbed in a whirlwind of emotion to notice. 

“P—Professor, please, I - I can explain, I didn’t mean anything—“

“April 17th. Professor came down with a flu, like I expected. I saw him walking in last week’s evening downpour and waited for what day this week he’d call in. Later, he bought cough syrup and aspirin at the convenience store. I watched him struggle to care for himself, covered head to toe in blankets, missing meals, barely able to keep upright. I wish professor knew how well I could care for him, how I fulfill his every request and need. I saw how touchy he was, how he fidgeted, that feverish want — I could satiate him like no-one else.” 

His lips enunciated every word, and the longer he went on reading, the dizzier you felt; your professor, your darling, had found out - he had found out - he had found fucking out -

“Be honest with me, Miss [Name]. Do you stalk me?” Your professor said, slipping off his wire-framed glasses. The man leaned in closer now, elbows resting on the wooden desk. 

Your eyes darted away from him, looking anywhere but forwards. You felt like you had been stripped away, so bare your professor could count how many ribs you had, how many minor hairline fractures your tattered bones had collected over the years. You tried to analyze the man’s reaction through your peripheral, but it was to no avail - he was as cold as he had been during class, during your entire time knowing the professor. 

You breathed, in and out, analyzing the situation tenfold, precisely, trying to find a way out of this place alive, dignity intact. Then, you found it. 

This man had ensnared you, entranced you with his delicious charm and carefully spoken words. You repeat inwardly to yourself: Crane knew all the right words, all the right places to touch. If he dared press charges, you would tell the world he hurt you first. 

“Yes, Professor Crane.” You nodded, unabashed after deciding how to deal with everything. He can’t touch me with this. I’ll just go first: please, he took advantage of me! I needed to pass his class… and he offered a solution to me. He’s lying! Lying to you all. He just wants to destroy me… and hide his sin.

“The human body knows when someone’s watching them, but you haven’t noticed, not once in the 8 months I’ve watched you. You didn’t notice, even when I followed you home, even to Arkham. Every obscure outing you’ve had, I’ve been there.”

“I’m quite alarmed by this information, Miss [Name]. Moreso by the absence of your remorse.” Crane said, but mere seconds later a low laugh was drawn out of him, looking more amused than alarmed if anything. 

Crane’s tone was husky, nearing a purr, and he clasped his large, calloused hands together contemplatively. “What were you going to do to me, Miss [Name]? Or were you just going to watch, standby my life?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, unable to respond to his provocations. You didn’t want to alarm him further, tell him you’d been planning to finally have him, once and for all, as soon as you got a hold of his house keys and got the chance to replicate your own pair. You didn’t tell him that you were barely restraining yourself from knocking him out during your tutoring sessions, wanting your darling all for yourself for more than an hour a week. 

“Are you not afraid, Miss [Name]? What I can do to your life with this information? How I can ruin you, paint you mad enough to be admitted to Arkham?” he continued, closer than ever before and whispering in your ear. His plush lips brushed past the shell of your ear, making your heart skip a beat. 

You winced, both from the feeling of him near you and his sweet voice spewing poison in your ear, but quickly composed yourself, for you knew things he didn’t know you knew. 

Then - you weren’t quite sure what possessed you, but - your hand came up to his hair, tugging so he could hear you, “Professor - or, should I say… Scarecrow, what would you do, if I told the police what Gotham University’s psychology professor did in his spare time?” 

“What would you do, if I plastered pictures of the renowned Doctor Jonathan Crane wearing the familiar burlap sack mask all over Gotham - especially in places the Batman frequented?”

“I can destroy you, sir.” Your voice was quiet, but dangerous, a terribly alluring thing, like a melody Crane heard a long time ago and remembered every time he smelt the must of an old piano. “Don’t push me.”

This time, Crane stilled, turning to face you fully. His gaze had darkened, looking at you through his long lashes. “My dear, you should’ve just told me how bad you wanted to find out how this fear-toxin of mine can break you.” He whispered, so quiet you had to strain yourself to hear. 

With your professor's warm breath fanning on the nape of your neck, you couldn’t help how you squirmed, clenched your thighs together - especially when you had been dreaming of something like this for the past eight months. You couldn’t count how many times you found yourself with your hands down your pants at the thought of your darling professor having his way with you… controlling you completely. 

You didn’t answer the man for a moment, gulping down the dryness in your throat. “Would you, sir? Would you let fear dominate me like those tortured souls in the Narrows?”

Crane’s eyes trailed across your face, then he pulled back, leaning in his chair, a grin all teeth and no tongue spreading across his lips. There was something there, you realized, something he noticed in the intone of your voice - had he noticed the neediness, the warble as your thoughts went elsewhere? The arch in your back, your body desperate to be as close to him as possible?

“Can I tell you what I think?” said Crane, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “I think you want me to. I think you want me to see you tremble… shake in fear… you want me to hear you beg. I think you want to be utterly consumed by me.” 

The deep timbre of his voice, the suggestion in his words, how he stared you down with each syllable, sent electric shivers down your spine. You took in a sharp breath, leaning your head back to look at the ceiling, compose yourself, when—

Crane’s rough hand gripped at your throat, thumb caressing the little notch at the center, and your heart fluttered, jumping at his touch. 

“Fear is an addicting, beautiful thing, is it not? You’re afraid of me, but you can’t help how fucking needy you are.” Your professor spoke, pressing down further on your neck. He had noticed. 

His touch made your skin feel like it was on fire, the rough pads of his fingertips digging bruises into your delicate skin. It was the most delicious thing you had ever felt, and you leaned into it, despite the connotations of death by asphyxiation looming over your shoulder. 

Your professor manhandled you, dragging your weak body over to his side of the desk, hand still curved neatly around your throat. You were growing dizzy, a fearful, pleasure-filled fog slowly clouding your mind, and you couldn’t speak. All you could do was let out little squeaks of surprise & pleasure, a moan rumbling out of you as he pressed down further. 

Crane was saying something, but you couldn’t tell under the pressure. His facial expression was all you needed, however; his eyes were bloodshot, lustful, so laser-focused that, if looks could kill, you’d have been long gone, while a feral grin replaced his emotionless facade. Crane’s usually well-kept appearance had dissolved, and his hair was askew, tie loose, buttons haphazardly undone. 

Suddenly, the man pressed himself flush against you, pressing his face into your hair, your neck - losing himself in you. His tongue flicked out, dragging a long stripe down the side of your neck, and you jumped, a startled whine tearing out of your choked-up throat. 

His grip on you tightened. “What? I’m just having a taste. Is that so wrong?” At your wide eyes, and silent response, he let out a fitful laugh. “You’re coated in shame, darling. You’re sour.”

You squirmed - not because you didn’t enjoy it - you just couldn’t breathe, but Crane didn’t care. His fingernails were sharp, maybe even drawing some of your blood.

“Plea— sir, I can’t breathe,” you stuttered out raspily. His face remained unchanged while listening to your pathetic pleas, before he leaned in close. 

“Beg for it. Beg like you’re terrified for your life. You might as well be,” he said, and he began pressing his thumb into the center of your throat, choking you fully now. 

You nodded - as much as the allowance between his hand and your head allowed, anyway. “Professor, please,” you said breathily, “please let me go. I’ll do any- anything, just puh— please stop.” 

“Ah, there it is,” Your professor cooed, eyes shutting at the sweet intone of your pleaing, distressed voice. He was losing himself in your words. “Keep going… and don’t forget the crying. It's my favorite part.”

“Let - me go! Please,” you whimpered helplessly, mustering thick, heavy tears to form at the corners of your eyes as you saw black spots dotting your vision. 

A lump formed in your throat, choking your words. “Please… stop! Let me - breathe,” You said, leaning delightedly into his touch. His other hand was now digging painfully into your hip, as if the professor were focussing intensely on holding back. 

“Look at you go,” Crane clicked his tongue, eyes opening and gazing deep into you. He pulled you in closer to him, letting go of your abused throat. 

You finally breathed, taking in such large bouts of air you might’ve choked and keeled over right there. But then, Crane’s hands at your side crawed carefully to your rear, while the other hand came up to the crown of your head to pet you. 

He whispered into the top of your head, “Did you mean it?” 

“Mean what?” You said raspily, your face pressed flat against his bandy chest. 

His hand found the swell of your ass, fingers grabbing hold and squeezing so tight you were sure there’d be a bruise later, “About doing anything. For me.”

You nodded, still not looking at him. This answer didn’t please him, however, and the hand that had been petting you tangled through your hair and roughly pulled you away, to look up at him. “In words.”

“Y— yes. I’ll do anything for you.” You rattled off, prickling pain twisting in your scalp. 

“You’ll be a good girl for me?”

“The best.” 

A grin twisted his pink, plush lips, and he promptly pushed you face down flat against his cold, wooden desk. It was rough, and sudden, pain blooming in your side. But there was a tug in your lower stomach at the way he handled you, all selfish and touchy and focused solely on chasing after his own pleasure. 

Crane’s hands roamed all over your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His touch was insatiable, rubbing and petting and kneading at every part of your body. 

His hands found your thighs, squeezing at the flesh, before hiking up your skirt and inspecting your panties. “Oh, you’re fucking soaked,” Crane rumbled out, voice like gravel. “You liked it, didn’t you? When I said I’d admit you to Arkham.”

Then, you heard him kneel down, and begin to press sloppy, wet kisses on your legs. “Be honest,” he said between kisses, “you want me to admit you, have you all to myself in isolation.”

You didn’t respond, instead whimpering and bucking forward when you could feel Crane’s sharp teeth brush over your sensitive skin. He noticed the effect he had on you, and you felt him smile against you. 

“Please,” you keened out, not dissimilar to how you begged him just moments ago, “stop teasing, Professor.”

You felt Crane’s hot breath fan over your clothed mound, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. “Stop teasing, how?” he said at last, before suddenly pushing your panties to the side and licking a stripe up your cunt. He lapped at your lips, collecting your wetness on his tongue, but he didn’t go further. 

“Pro - Professor,” you whined, grounding out a low moan. It wasn’t enough, and he knew it. He liked playing with you, making you squirm and shake and beg for more.

“What? This not enough for you?” He pulled away, and you hissed at the cold that hit you. Then, he tugged, hard, pulling both your underwear and your skirt down to your knees. 

“You want me to eat you out till you’re a trembling fucking mess, don’t you?” He buried himself between your legs, “I knew you were a horny little slut.”

Finally, his tongue found you once more, and pushed deep into your folds. Crane’s tongue ran across every rivet your pussy had, before darting out to your clit, suckling at the velvet bundle of nerves. His touch drew out a high-pitched keen, your back arching. 

You couldn’t see him, face still pressed against the wooden desk, but you could hear him, the filthy squelching of your pussy and his tongue making your knees buckle. 

“Fuck, Jonathan,” you choked out, when he went deeper into your quivering hole, your body tingling like nothing you’d ever felt before. At your reaction, his name curling around your pretty little lips, he went faster, wet mouth brushing against you, licking you up and down, animalistic, following his instinct to a tee.

“Please, wait -“ You said, feeling the knot in your insides grow tighter, the heat washing over you like a steaming shower, toes curling in your flats. 

“What?” He growled out beneath you, not letting up his assault on your cunt. 

“I don’t - don’t wanna come on your tongue…” You said, shaking your head weakly against the desk. “Wanna - wanna feel you in me.”

Jonathan snorted, and continued to lap up your insides, “D’you think you have a fucking choice? Huh? I know you’re a whore, you could do this all day. I’ll just make you come again on my cock.”

Before you could protest, or even just whine at his words, you shut your eyes, feeling yourself come undone, your legs barely able to keep you upright. His hands had reached away from your thighs, rough fingers toying with your fleshy button, maximizing the climax washing over you tenfold. 

“Jonathan, Jonathan!” You practically screamed out, heat in your stomach pulsing rapidly. 

“Ugh, fuck,” You heard him say, “you’re creaming all over my fucking face.” 

You were a complete mess by the time he pulled away from you, your high washing away as Crane wiped the come and wetness off his face. 

“You came that hard, just on my tongue?” He mocked, fingers spreading your lips and observing your swollen pussy as you laid flat, weakly gripping the edge of the desk so you’d stay standing. 

“Well,” he said, reaching down to his pants and undoing his belt buckle and fly, “M’not done with this sweet little cunt just yet.”

Your eyes widened, “I’m - I’m still sensitive, wait-“

Jonathan didn’t listen, however, letting his pants and boxers pool at his feet, stroking himself in the artificial light of his office, which smelt like sweat and sex. 

He spat on his hand, first coating his cock in it, then your parted lips (which you theorized was just because he wanted to feel you up again), before lining up his thick head at your entrance. “God,” he groaned, “you’re so fucking wet.”

You keened at the intrusion you felt between your legs, “Jonathan, please, jus’ - give me a sec to rest —“ You were interrupted however, by the shock of how big he felt. 

You hadn’t gotten a look at him, but as he let himself slowly enter you, you could tell it was bigger than anything you’d ever taken before. “You’re - you’re too big!” you squeaked out, “You won’t fit.”

He laughed, hands resting on your hips as he held you upright. “I’ll make it fit,” he said, before roughly pounding the rest of himself into you, stretching out your inexperienced cunt. 

You choked, his fat cock pushing you wider than you’d ever been before, the pain biting at you, a burning feeling spreading within your lower body. “Jon- Jonathan,” was all you could say, as he slowly pulled out, pure relief written on your face, until he sank right back into you, somehow deeper than before. 

Tears welled in your eyes, as he gripped harshly on the flesh of your hips, making you pound back and forth on him. His cock was hard, and thick, and he was forcing the thing deep within you at an excruciatingly quick pace. Your sensitivity was the cherry on top to this whole situation - you were trembling, body weak, shallow breaths and teary moans tearing out of you at the overstimulation.

Soon, however, the pain slowly dissolved into a filthy, exquisite pleasure that echoed throughout your entire body. The rhythm your professor had gotten to was downright perfect, filling you completely and making you clench in all the right places. Crane made your brain go foggy, focussing solely on the sound of your skin slapping against each other in the quiet, after-hours office, his taller frame encapsulating you completely.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he cooed, hands moving to splay across your ass and spread you open further. “How many cocks have taken this sweet pussy, huh?”

You gulped. “Just,” you started, but then your eyes rolled to the back of your head, stopping you mid-sentence as his length brushed up to your most sensitive spot.

“How,” he gripped you tighter, “many,” slipped out, “cocks!”  then thrust into you roughly, rougher than before and making the desk screech forward a few inches.

“Just one!” You said at last, words choked up as his long cock pierced you. 

“Just one, huh?” He said and began pounding in and out of you faster, rougher, needier, “I bet you didn’t even fucking come, you’re so tight. This pretty pussy of yours is practically virgin.”

“Uh-huh,” you said incoherently, thoughts blending together. “Jus’ a - a fucking virgin for you,” you babbled out, losing yourself in the fast-paced pleasure he was serving on a silver platter. 

“That you are,” Jonathan growled, “you’re just my horny virgin. Mine.” Every thrust he plunged into you brushed up against that plush spot deep within you, making you drool, body going slack. 

“Oh, jesus, you’re so fucked out,” he murmured, looking down at your limp, trembling form. “Drunk on my thick fucking cock.”

The ecstasy was becoming too much for you now, controlling you completely, like if he stopped fucking you right now you’d be so fucking needy, going slowly insane until he touched you again. You knew you wouldn’t be able to fuck anyone else and feel the same; he made you feel fucking feral, instinctual, your id going into drive and controlling you instead of logic. Your darling was the only one you wanted to offer yourself up completely to. He could do anything he fucking wanted to you, and you’d take it in stride. 

“Jonathan,” you keened, feeling your walls clench around him tighter, “m’close.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, voice deep and dangerous, “keep that orgasm in, whore, till I tell you to.”

Your cheeks burned, distraught at the denial of your release, especially when his cock slipped out of you as he flipped you over. Quickly, however, he rammed his cock back into you. You were facing each other now, and you could see how hot and bothered he looked, despite how confident and careless his words had been as he fucked you.

His lips were bitten between his teeth, hair sticking to the sweat on his face, cheeks flushed. He was focussed entirely on getting back that rhythm, and you let him, watching how his gorgeous features contorted as your hot cunt sucked him in. 

Your arms reached around his neck, and he promptly lifted your legs up to hook around his back, making him fill you even further. 

“Fuck me!” You squealed, his shaft reaching places you didn’t know could be reached. It was getting harder to stop your impending orgasm, and your felt fucking sick at how sweetly he was stretching you, how you knew you couldn’t let go no matter what despite the delicious pleasure. 

“Already am, baby,” he grumbled, rutting in and out of you at a dizzying pace. You felt his pace stutter, slightly, and you heard his small, revealing whines of pleasure as his head was nestled in the nook of your neck, and you knew he was close. 

The thought of him coming in you made you tighten and tense, and he felt it, your back lifting off the desk in an arch. 

“Fuck, how’d you get even tighter?” he said shakily, before sliding out of you so far he almost pulled out completely, then let his cock thrust into you so hard you saw stars dancing across your vision.

You merely mewled back at him in response. 

“Come,” he said breathily, “come all over my thick— ugh, fuuuck, just like that, yes,” his sentence was cut off as you let go, letting the waves of pleasure surge through your body like electricity. 

Your body shook, your knees trembled, and an animalistic whine slipped out of your bruise throat as he thrust into you jerkily. Just as quickly as you camez, he did too, and you felt Jonathan’s load shoot straight up into your worn-out cunt, not impeded by a condom of any sorts. Crane’s head cocked back as he did so, jaw clenching as he released his sweet and sticky liquid deep within you, warm and coating your walls completely.

For a moment, he laid atop of you, and you both kept silent, the office filled with nothing but your breathing and the sweet smell of come. Then, he pulled away, both of you wincing as his cock left you, his come dripping out of your weeping hole onto his office floors. 

He pulled his underwear and pants back on, but revelled in your own crumpled form on his desk, your shirt hiked up, your skirt and panties hanging off your ankles, barely there. It was a shame he couldn’t have explored further up your body, groped those tits he loved seeing bounce during tutoring, but his need to fill your pussy up took precedent.

Jonathan swiped a finger into your cunt, collecting some of your combined liquid, and you flinched at the feeling. Then, he licked at his dirty finger. “Oh, baby,” he heaved, “we taste delectable mixed together.” 

You raised a brow, then weakly lifted yourself off the desk, pulling up your panties and skirt (not without adoring the feeling of Jonathan’s fresh, wet come smearing all over your panties and sensitive cunt) before reaching for his hand. He leaned in towards you, and you lapped up the juice on his finger, grinning up at him.

Jonathan looked completely lost in your performance, brows knitted. “Jesus fucking christ,” he whispered under his breath, “where has a perfect little fucktoy like you been hiding from me?”

“Oh,” you said, nonchalant, “just stalking you.” 

[eiightysixbaby]

baby, it’s cold outside

i ought to say no, no, no sir — at least i’m gonna say that i tried!

eddie munson x fem!reader

3.6k

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. mutual pining, friends to lovers, eddie convinces reader to stay but he’s not a creep - she’s just nervous, one (1) singular use of y/n, brief mentions of alcohol and weed consumption, protected piv sex, fingering. barely proofread so i apologize in advance if there's mistakes xoxo love u guys.

“No, really! I’m serious,” you laugh, tears springing from the creases in the corners of your eyes. “I had the biggest crush on him,” you add, taking a tiny hit of the joint between your fingers before letting it rest in the ash tray.

The warmth from the tiny space-heater in Eddie’s living room kisses your cheeks, your fingers warming up where they wrap around your mug of spiked cider. You shift your weight on the worn cushions of the sofa, tucking one leg beneath you. You’re home from college for the holidays, catching up with all of your closest friends. Steve had hosted at his place, and when the party died down there Eddie had offered that you come back to his.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” the boy grins, shaking his head as he takes a swig of his beer.

“Yeah, well… I don’t know. We were in high school. Everything feels like such a big deal when you’re in high school. I felt like that crush could’ve been the end of the world if word got out,” you giggle, leaning your head back against the cushions behind you.

“I get what you mean,” he says, leaning to knock his shoulder with yours. “I just can’t believe I didn’t know,” he says, glancing sideways at you. “You weren’t always subtle, you know.”

You shove him, snorting out another laugh.

“Okay, so who was your high school crush?” you ask him, tilting your head to face him, a playful grin on your face.

“Chrissy Cunningham,” he says easily.

“That’s the obvious one,” you roll your eyes. “We all knew that. Robin never let you live it down. I want your secret crush, one you never told anyone about. You have to have one,” you pry.

Eddie swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His eyes shift away from yours, his beer bottle raising to his mouth to take another sip. A way to avoid his answer.

“Well,” he says, his voice gravelly. “It was, uh, it was… you, actually.” He’s quieter now, less sure of himself than you’ve maybe ever seen him. Your heart twists inside of your chest.

“What!?” you ask, sitting upright. You didn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but it certainly caught you off guard.

“Forget it, it’s stupid,” Eddie retreats, trying to laugh it off. You stop him, though, reaching out to put a hand on his knee.

“No, no. It’s not stupid. I just… I had no idea,” you say, emphasizing the last few words.

“Yeah. It’s like you said, I thought it would’ve been the end of the world if you found out,” he laughs a little, but you detect a twinge of sadness behind it.

“Eddie…” you say. “You could’ve told me. I— I’m glad you told me now,” you continue, rubbing a soft circle over his knee with your thumb.

“You are?” he raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah. But I have one question,” you say, drawing your hand back from him and placing it in your lap.

“Okay, shoot.”

“Do you still have feelings for me? Now?” you ask nervously, glancing back and forth between the contents of your cup and his face.

He’s quiet, searching your face.

“Would it completely ruin everything if I said yes?” he asks, so quietly. His voice a gentle hum in your ears.

Suddenly, words escape you. You feel frozen, not knowing what to say. No, it wouldn’t, is what you want to say. Kiss me, please, is what you want to demand of him. But you find yourself unable to say anything at all. His gaze is overwhelming. Your heart races in your chest. Why is this so daunting?

He’s about to speak again, his mouth opening and closing. The moment is heavy, nerves raised high. Something in you wants to run, to flee. To escape the scary precipice you teeter on, between friends and something more. You welcomed this, but now it’s too much. You glance at the clock, cursing under your breath when you see the time. An excuse.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m so sorry. It’s so late, I really should get going—” you say, scrambling to stand while you set your mug on the coffee table.

“Wait,” a firm but comforting hand grips your arm, stopping you. “Please don’t go,” he says.

“Eddie, it’s almost midnight—”

“So stay with me. Please don’t leave right now, not after what we just talked about.”

“My parents, Eddie, they’ll be worried,” you rush out, slipping on your boots at the door and opening it.

A flurry of snow falls outside, coating the cars and the dirt and what’s left of the grass. The December night air is frigid and harsh where it hits your skin.

“Oh!” you gasp, wincing at the cold.

Eddie’s stood right behind you, his arm reaching over you and pushing the door shut again.

“No way you’re driving home in that, ‘s dangerous,” he tells you.

“Maybe I’ll wait it out…” you murmur, words failing you the longer he stares at you.

Your cheeks feel hot despite the below-zero windchill. Facing Eddie is harder than it had been five minutes ago, and you’re the one who brought on the conversation. He’s so close to you, gazing down at you, his eyes pleading.

“Y/N,” he says softly. “If you want to run, I won’t stop you. But I don’t think you really do. Just tell me, is the world going to end? Or can I have you?”

“I…. Eddie—” you stammer, and you really, truly feel like your heart might hammer through your chest and land on the floor.

His eyes are so big, pools of deep brown that draw you in. You could drown in them if you looked too long, could get lost in his vastness. He’s begging without words, aching for you to say something. Nervous eyes travel over his face, watching the slight twitch of his lips and the way they part just slightly. He’s beautiful. He’s always been beautiful.

“You can have me,” you whisper.

It takes a split second before his hands find your waist, pulling you into him. He noses at your face, watching your eyelids flutter shut. Every exhale from him wafts breath over your face, warm and so incredibly him. The air that he had breathed and put back out into the open space, filling your lungs now. His lips press against yours, featherlight and testing the waters. Your body relaxes fully, mouth melting against his as you let him kiss you.

It becomes needy quickly. What started so soft and tender becomes eager, open mouths devouring each other as tongues touch.

“I had a crush on you, too—” you blurt in between kisses.

“What?” he breathes, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and then to your cheek. The way he says it doesn’t indicate surprise, but rather he just wants to hear you say it again.

“You were my other secret crush in high school…” you confess shyly, eyes wide and blinking at him when he stops his movements abruptly.

“You really weren’t always subtle,” is all he says, smiling as he leans in to kiss you once more.

Teeth clash, both of you giggling into the kiss, your hands wandering up his chest as he holds you close to him. He tugs at the collar of your sweater, pulling you with him as he walks backwards to the couch. Straddling his lap, your hands find their way up his shirt, smoothing over his soft skin. He lets out a satisfied hum, his own hands reaching around to squeeze your ass as he lets his tongue prod into your mouth.

A soft whimper escapes you, your hips grinding on top of his. You can feel the tent in his jeans as he grows stiff beneath them, completely affected by you. It becomes increasingly obvious to you, then, the boundaries that are being crossed right now. You can’t go back after this, things are forever changed between you and Eddie.

You stop kissing him, glancing out the window at the falling snow. “Eddie—” you say, your eyes looking frantic; skittish.

“Don’t you dare tell me you have to get home. It’s cold outside, baby. The weather’s bad,” he says softly, nuzzling his face into your hair by your ear.

“What happens after we do this? Everything will be different,” you say, wishing you weren’t so nervous. So hesitant. So scared to fall completely for him and for it to end badly.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, bringing a hand up to brush his fingers along your cheek. So gentle, so slow. “We don’t have to do anything. We can take it slow,” he soothes, and you can’t help but melt into his touch.

The blizzard still rages outside, no way you can get home safely.

You rest your forehead against his, your body relaxing once more. “I’m sorry for being so jumpy. I just… I want you in my life forever.”

“You know I feel the same. I’m going to make it my life’s mission to never give you a reason to kick me out of it,” he promises, hands rubbing up and down your sides.

You sigh, rolling your hips once atop his lap. Kisses are left on your cheeks, your jawline, traveling down to your neck. Everywhere his mouth lands is set ablaze, your body giving in to him, craving more. He paws at the hem of your sweater, causing you to pull it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor.

“Fuck,” he mutters, taking in the sight of you.

Your bra holds your breasts perfectly, your chest rising and falling with each breath you take. His hands trail up your skin, fingertips making you shudder as they dance along your torso. He caresses the swells of skin in warm hands, letting his thumbs run over the tops of each cup of your bra, dipping down to roll over your hardened nipples. A delighted, breathy noise leaves your throat, and Eddie revels in it. He wants to pull more pretty noises from you, keep you like putty in his hands.

“Can I take this off?” he asks you, dipping down to place a kiss between the curve of your breasts. His hands reach around your back, gliding along the band of your undergarment.

“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers tracing over the buckle on his belt.

He makes quick work of unclasping your bra, letting it rest on the floor with your sweater. His mouth immediately finds your tits, those big eyes of his glancing up at you as he sucks one nipple into his eager mouth.

You let your head fall back with a soft moan, electricity running through your veins. Your whole body is tuned into his actions, ready and waiting for more. And fuck, he’s barely doing anything yet but he’s so good. You know he’s fooled around here and there in the last few years, gained experience, but god, he’s so much better than you ever could have imagined on those late nights with your hand between your thighs. His hands and his mouth know exactly where to be at every second, making you perfectly pliant for him.

Your fingers start to undo his belt to the best of your distracted-ability, his tongue swirling around your nipple and making you dizzy with arousal. You work the button of his jeans open, fumbling with the zipper right after. You ease your weight off of him, hovering in place so he can slide the denim down till it pools around his calves.

A short, punctuated groan slips past his lips when you palm his stiff length over his boxers, his mouth now focused on your other nipple. Your short skirt does very little to keep you covered, the soft fabric riding so far up your thighs you’re almost exposed. His big palms move down to squeeze them, fingertips grazing beneath your skirt. You whine, bucking your hips slightly, encouraging him to move his fingers higher.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” he coos, his mouth so close to your ear, hands rubbing the expanse of your thighs. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna take good care of you.”

It sends shivers down your spine, the way he talks to you. So unaccustomed to hearing him speak this way, and still in disbelief that he’s speaking this way to you — doing these things to you. His hands bunch your skirt up as far as it will go, fingernails dragging along your sheer black tights. He snags them, leaving a run in the material.

“Oops,” he says, smug as his hands climb your thighs, reaching closer and closer to your core. There’s still too many layers between him and you for your liking. Your tights and panties, his boxers concealing his cock.

“Eddieee,” you whine, squirming on his lap.

“What, sweet girl? Where do you need me?” he asks, voice so sugary sweet as he blinks at you, lashes fluttering.

You huff, brows furrowing in desperation. “Do you need me… here?” he asks, letting his fingers trail over your clothed core. They tease, cupping your sex and rubbing soft patterns on the skin.

“Yeah, please Eddie,” you gasp, your hands planting firmly on his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Take everything off for me, baby, yeah?” he suggests, watching intently when you stand momentarily to strip.

You’re grateful for the warmth coming from the small heater, the chill from outside slipping in through the cracks of the trailer’s windows being warded off to the best of the equipment’s ability. You come to straddle Eddie once more, one of his hands immediately grabbing your waist, the other making its way back to your cunt. He ghosts his fingertips over your clit, making your hips jerk ever so slightly. He laughs lowly, not mocking you but instead basking in the spell he has you under in this moment.

His index finger runs through your folds, collecting the wetness that waits for him. “Christ, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours for another kiss.

His tongue pushes gently past your lips right as he slips a finger inside of you, making you moan into his mouth. He swallows your sounds gratefully, his finger curling inside your walls to hopefully bring on more.

“Need more, Eddie,” you beg, grinding yourself on him. He obliges easily, slipping a second finger inside.

The way he stretches you is divine, it feels far too good to have you worrying any longer. You don’t care that one of your best friends has you naked on his lap, you don’t care about what your other friends will think, you don’t care that it’s late and you haven’t called home. You don’t care. He pumps his fingers in and out expertly, your arousal filling the trailer with lewd, wet noises. Your mouths move hastily against one another, kissing and licking and biting, making up for lost time.

“Feels so good,” you pant between kisses, making him smile.

“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous,” he praises, pressing more kisses to your face.

You feel your cheeks warm at his words, your head fuzzy. “Want— want you to fuck me,” you say softly, and he tilts his head, reading your expression.

“You sure?” he checks, stopping the movements of his fingers and instead removing them from you. He cups your face, his cheeks flushing pink when you nod.

“I’m sure,” you reply, reaching your hand down and squeezing the outline of his cock beneath cotton fabric.

He inhales, sharp and fast, his eyes half-closing in pleasure.

“Okay, sweetheart. Why don’t you lay down?” he asks, patting the cushion beside him.

You both maneuver your bodies, you lying on the sofa as he comes to hover over you. A condom had been pulled from his wallet, and he opens the packet with his teeth as he shimmies out of his boxers. You watch in awe as his cock springs free, the size of it surprising you. Your eyes are trained on him as he rolls the condom on, his fingers making quick work of it.

“Like what you see?” he asks, catching the area your eyes are glued to.

All you can do is nod, redirecting your eyes to the smirk on his face. Goosebumps rise on your skin, the icy wind blowing stronger outside now, more persistent in the way it penetrates the trailer walls. Eddie notices, standing up and pulling the thick knit blanket from the armchair in the corner of the room. He returns to the couch, positioning himself on top of you and awkwardly fixating the blanket over both of your bodies with your assistance.

It’s warm, and it’s safe, and it makes your heart swell.

“You ready?” he says quietly, kissing you on the cheek and then the forehead.

“Yeah,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly, letting your tongue take control this time.

He exhales heavily as he starts to push in, his head breaching your folds and making you both moan. His forehead rests atop yours, strong arms caging you in as he holds himself up. He moves slowly, filling you inch by inch and paying careful attention to your reactions. Your lips part, no sound coming out as he bottoms out inside of you. His head drops to your shoulder, shaggy hair tickling the junction between it and your neck.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you sigh, letting your body adjust to the stretch of him. It feels like he was made for you, your body quickly aching for more.

He starts moving, careful not to go too fast for you.

“Baby…” he breathes, pulling almost completely out before thrusting back in again.

Your hands slide down his back beneath the blanket, nails digging in slightly when he starts to pick up his pace. You can’t fucking believe you have him like this right now, and you think about how different this night would’ve played out if you had just gone home after leaving Steve’s. You’re grateful you didn’t; grateful to be here, being loved on by Eddie.

Your relationship blossoms into something new with each snap of his hips against yours, further solidifying the fact that you want more with him. Something deeper, something intimate.

Moans leave you in short, breathy spurts as he fucks you, filling you up over and over. He’ll slow down, taunting you with drawn out movements before he’s back to thrusting quickly, giving you whiplash. His teeth tug at your bottom lip, his nose brushing against yours. He smells so good and his skin is so warm, it only urges you closer and closer to release. Being so close to him is intoxicating, and you cry his name over and over as his cock hits that perfect spot inside of you.

“Getting close, angel?” he asks, grinning down at you when you nod. “God, you feel so fucking good around me, baby,” he says, kissing you like he simply can’t get enough.

His breathing is heavy, exertion evident in the way he fills his lungs with air. You snake a hand down your body, softly starting to rub your sensitive clit with the pad of your finger.

“Want you to cum for me, baby, give it all to me,” Eddie encourages you, your eyes screwing shut as pleasure builds and builds in the pit of your stomach.

His cock glides in and out with complete ease, your pussy soaking him. He keeps a moderate, steady pace, wanting to savor every last second of this milestone with you. You can feel yourself quickly approaching your release, rubbing more urgent circles around your clit now. Your brows are furrowed in concentration, Eddie’s breath fanning your face as he grunts with each thrust.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, feeling yourself let go completely.

Your walls clench tight around him, tensing up over and over as he helps you ride out the high. “That’s it, sweet girl,” he soothes. “Did so good,” he praises as he continues to fuck into you.

He’s close, you can tell by the way his movements get less precise. You pull his face down to you, capturing his lips in what feels like the millionth kiss of the night. He kisses back urgently, pulling away only to warn you of his approaching climax.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum,” he huffs, barely giving you a few more thrusts before he’s spilling inside of the condom.

His hips stutter, and you can just barely feel the way his cock twitches as he rids himself of every drop. Both breathing heavily, he collapses on top of you, your arms wrapping around him to hold him tight. The blanket keeps the warmth locked in, his skin sweat-slick against yours.

Regaining composure, he pulls back enough to look at you.

“Did you mean it, when you said I can have you? Will you be mine?” he asks, his eyes boring into yours.

“Yes,” you assure him. “I’m yours.”

His grin is brighter than the sun, outshining the glow from the Christmas tree as he smiles down at you. All he can think to do is kiss you, and somehow it feels even sweeter this time.

Once you’ve both redressed, him in his pajama pants and you in his borrowed clothes, he pads into the living room with a glass of water for you.

“Oh, hey. The snowstorm’s died down,” he says, peering out the window. “You still want to try and make it home?”

“No. I want to stay right here,” you say, coming up behind him. Wrapped in a blanket, you reach your arms out, enveloping him in the warmth, too. Your face nuzzles into the space between his shoulder blades, before he turns around so he’s facing you.

“Good. Cause I really don’t want you to go,” he smiles, his dimples peeking out. “It’s still cold outside, after all. A lady like you should be safe and warm in my bed, not braving the elements.” You giggle, nuzzling your nose against his.

“You’ve convinced me. I’ll stay.”

[kombuuuu]

NEEDD someone to write more about simp!miles and how he finally asks reader out. I love him w the trope friends to lovers i definitely feel like he would try to ask his s/o out and fail to so many times😭😭

Jitters.

Simp!Miles Morales x Gn!Reader

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

THIS WAS LIKE FIVE MINUTES ADTER MY CALL FOR POST LMFAOOO OKAY BBY I GOT U ‼️

2 + 1 Trope? Got that DOWN baby.

—

The first time Miles had ever met you, it had been the most bland, unimportant, nothing-burger of a day he’d ever been privy to living.

The weight of his classmates gazes settled uncomfortably, but familiarly, onto his back. The whispers they shared with one another having him strain to hear over the beating of his own finicky heart.

A boring, low effort slide show casted on a lazily erased white board was barely keeping him from falling asleep.

And yet his foot wouldn’t stop tapping, the nerves alighting something within him like sparks near a gas leak. The way his heart was beating wasn’t just from the whispers flown around he knows weren’t about him. (He couldn’t help it, what if they are?)

There was something else, like an anticipation boiling his blood vessels. Spidey-sense through the roof and heart rate accelerating.

He stanced his feet, twisting them slowly to shoot out of his seat when ready, as if a crazed, murderous version of him was going to burst the the door at any moments notice.

The handle twisted, his vision honed in, ears sharp-tuned to every movement the muse terry figure made.

And as the door swung open, the breath he was holding left him. Exasperation and amazement at the person in front of him, the harmless, beauty of a person.

“Ah. Mx.[Last Name], Pleasure of you to join us,” His Teacher snarked, adding a hasty ‘finally’ to the end under his breath.

Miles shot the man a dirty look before focusing back onto you, as seemingly everyone had.

You caught people’s attention from the get-go, aura leaking something trusting, something good. Like out of everyone in the world he could talk to, he knows you’d listen in earnest.

You made eye contact with him, your eyes glistening against the light of the projector, he almost sighed.

You looked away again, addressing your Teacher. “Sorry Sir, I didn’t exactly know where to go.” You politely laughed it off, disrespect to authority wasn’t exactly something you wanted on your track record the moment you got to this place.

“It’s—“ He dragged a hand down his face whilst you shuffled in your spot. “It’s fine. Just go sit next to uh.-“

Miles say up a little straighter, a silent competition with the other people in his class crawling for your attention.

“Miles. Morales raise your hand.”

He felt almost smug as he did Small huffs of disappointment coming from his undeserving peers. You smiled at him, waltzing over with a confidence he could only dream, and sat in the chair beside him. He watched you unpack your stuff as the professor drawled on, and when you caught his watchful eye, you waved.

He blushed. The whispers definitely weren’t about him now.

—

One.

You were putting you books in your locker when a small tap was placed upon your shoulder.

Catching your attention, you stuffed the remaining books inside carelessly and turned to face the subject of curiosity.

The boy you had sat next to your first date stood shuffling foot to foot before you. Nervously scratching his neck and kicking his Jordans.

“Hey I- Uhh.” He coughed, scared his voice would crack in front of you, he almost cringed at the thought. “I’m Miles-“

“Morales. I remember you.” You smiled sweetly up at him, you did remember him. It was no lie, he was kind of hard to forget. “Oh, you do?”

“I mean, you were the only one in that class willing to sit next to a stranger. And you were pretty nice about it too.”

“Uhuh, yeah, that’s me.” Only one willing? With a person like you showing up? The entire room was glaring at him.

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

You closed your locker and turned back to him.

“Yeah, no problem. It was no big deal, really.” He rushed out, your presence alone making him nervous.

“Anyways I-,” he cleared his throat again. “I was wondering if you’d y’know..” He looked at you through his thick eyelashes, god he was pretty. “I’d…?”

“Wannahangoutsometime.”

You stumped for a moment, trying to figure out what he’d just said before laughing lightly. He swears he saw heaven the second you’d smiled at him.

“Yeah we can hang out, right now actually!”

Grabbing his arm and walking with him as you chatted. His breathing stuttered, unprepared for your misunderstanding of his intentions, but okay with the outcome. Having your arm linked with his, pulling him wherever you wanted to go like some puppy. Giggling and whispering to him something he couldn’t pay attention to over the sweetened sound of your voice. He was pretty damn okay with it.

—

Two.

It had been around three months since you had met Miles. And although you hated the thought, you only had your mean professor to thank. So, kudos to him.

You were into the boy, no doubt. His charming personality additional to the kind of dorky thing he had going on, you loved it. A month after the initial meeting, he had finally got the courage to ask you to hang out with him. It was probably the most adorable thing you’d ever seen watching him stumble upon his words.

Now you sat with him on the rooftop of his apartment building.

A picnic blanket had been laid for the both of you by Miles himself, and his mother had made snacks.

You had just met his mother, Rio. The sweetest woman you’d probably ever met. And by the way Miles and Rio interacted, you could only think how good of a man he was.

You can always tell the intentions of a man, by his treatment of his mother.

“Your ma is really nice.”

“You think? She’s kinda protective of me.” He turned to look at you through his peripheral, leaving enough space it wasn’t obvious. “I think it’s cute, she cares for you, y’know?” You shifted yourself to face him, the Sundown light glittering against his smooth skin. He looked beautiful here, you thought. He looks beautiful everywhere.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good, ‘s always good to know you’re loved.”

Miles’ heart stuttered in his chest, sucking in a quick breath and turning himself to face you.

“Mhmm.”

You looked up at him, leaning on your hand, drifting closer to him subconsciously.

He let himself drift as well, your voices quieting without either knowledge.

“Miles?” Your soft words questioned him, doey eyes gazing up at him, heart on your sleeve.

“I wanna—“ His sentence was cut off, a blaring siren sounding in his head, nerves.

“I think I might..—“

He huffed, mad at himself for being unable to speak.

“Do you want- Holy shit.”

You laughed, leaning back, a genuine glee in your eye.

“Do I want holy shit?-“ You giggled, he felt his heart flutter along with his disappointment (once more).

“-Not really, no.” You kept giggling, the serenity of your moment with Miles and his fumbling an apparent treat to you. He buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly. Only furthering your hysteria, “Leave me alone.” He dragged the ‘lone’ dramatically before flopping back against the blankets. Huffing and staring up at you from his spot. The smile on your face was a quick fix for his soured mood, not that it was that sour in the first place. But knowing a moment of undeniable spark like that, had you smiling and giggling after, even if it led to nothing. Had his hopes and his pulse rate rising.

—

Miles was head over heels for you. He was smitten, a total and complete dog for your affection. Sitting at home sulking when you weren’t there to hang out with him. Making you add his steam solely so he can play games with you.

A puppy of a man, god he wasn’t even ashamed.

“Dude, you just need’a ask ‘em out already.” Hobie served no help to his ever growing dilemma with you, but did serve to humiliate his seemingly non-existed romantic experience. “I’m *trying, man. They just keeps misunderstanding.” “Are they taking the hint?” “What hint?” He looked up from his slouched spot in his gaming chair. Spinning the thing in circles idly. “You haven’t given ‘em a hint?” Hobie blanched at Miles, like it was some obvious mistake.

“What. Hint.”

“Oh my god, Miles.”

—

He still didn’t get it, Hobie had explained his way of ‘hinting’ to someone he liked them. Through slight touches and subtle looks, a wink here and there. But not a cringey wink (Miles would argue they’re all cringey.), the ones where you feel like you’re part of a secret. This would be helpful to him, sure. If had hadn’t done everything with you already, except the winking, that is.

He did touch you, he did catch your eye when everyone else around looked away. He kissed your forehead and held your hand. You seemed borderline allergic to walking without you arm linked through his. All of there’s things that Hobie said were couple things, he’d already nailed. So why couldn’t you just.. date each other?

“I don’t know, it’s not like that.”

“But it is,” Hobie pointed to the centre of Mile’s’ forehead and flicked. “You guys are quite literally already dating.” “No, not really?”

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

Hobie sighed, jumping off the bed and stretching his arms above his head. Miles grumbling a pouted ‘am not..’, Hobie settled him a look, taking a deep breath and continuing.

“Miles, mate, You both go to each other for comfort. You cry to each other, you find solace in one another. You touch and cuddle and sleep in the same bed.” He took another breath, seemingly needing a lot, “The only things you’re missing, are kissing each other for real. And calling each other your partners.”

“And if they end up saying no?”

“Then i’ll smash my guitar.”

Miles paused, considering the severity.

“Okay, okay i’ll do it.”

“Thank fuck.”—

—

+one

Miles had spent the better of an entire afternoon hyping himself up (and subsequently psyching himself out), before he finally had managed to make it your door and knock.

He was beyond nervous, the jitters in his bones crawling under his skin like spiders. Worse than normal, he observed.

A shuffle from inside your apartment had brought him back down to Earth. Everything suddenly becoming very real to him as you opened the door grumpily.

“Oh i’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Oh, Miles!” Your pout had almost instantly been lifted, a smile grazing your face sleepily, it was so late, he shouldn’t have come.

“I’m so sorry- It’s late. I should—“

“No!”

“No?”

It was your turn to get bashful, twisting the hem of your shirt in your hands nervously. “Stay Miles.”

He softened, posture relaxing at your tone.

“Don’t want you running away again.”

That caught his attention. “Wha-“ “I was wondering when you’d finally show up outta’ the blue.” You glanced down to his lips then back. The amber in his eyes haunting your dreams, in such a welcomed way.

Miles couldn’t take it, with the way you spoke, so soft and fragile. To the things you were saying, confident and headstrong. He couldn’t fucking take it.

His hands shot up to your face, caressing the curves of your cheeks and slope of your jaw. The trails of hair behind your ears his fingers just grazed. He brought himself down to your height once more, standing on your porch step. Like some sappy rom-com.

“Tell me to stop.” He was near breathless. You didn’t, you didn’t say a thing. You simply carded your deft hands over thick curls, and pulled him down to meet you. His eyes fluttered closed and lips met yours. He felt like crying.

Like after the months of pining for you. For trying and trying for your love, for your affection, that everything in his life had only ever led to this one point. And everything farther was his happy ending. The spiders under his skin stopped crawling, settling into the crooks of his bones and finding home. He wasn’t shaking. He was still.

And as you pulled away to breathe, ogling up at him with nothing but love to give he smiled and laughed just like you did.

ITS FUCKING 3 AM I GENUINELY HAVENT SLEPT THIS IS SO CUTE

(he is ⬇️)

[miley1442111]

Hi my love! can you please do something with Spencer getting hurt in a case and baureader is there too and he can't get to her before he blacks out. When he wakes up, he's all 'where's my wife?' and the team are so confused bc, u don't have a wife?

but it turns out he does and she's pregnant?

thank you my lovely!

omg thank you so much for requesting this, it's so cute!

relief- s.reid

a/n: intended for fem reader, but imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: spencer can't get to you in time, waking up leads to the team finding out about a few things...

pairing: spencer reid x bau reader

warnings: general cm topics, talk of gunshots, wounds, hospitals, very brief mention of spencer's addiction, etc

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer heard the gunshot and his blood ran cold, adrenaline coursing through his body. Where were you?

He ran before he felt the wound in his back and collapsed with a shout. 

“I’m going for the pretty one next,” the unsub whispered in his ear as he stuck a finger into Spencer’s wound. Spencer groaned out in pain as his mind raced. “And I won’t be as nice.”

You were in danger and Spencer couldn’t do a thing to stop it. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer woke up to the darkness of his hospital room, he pulled the IV in his arm and panic set in. He had no idea what they were putting in there, he had no idea how long he’d been out, and he had no idea where you were.

He ripped the IV out of his arm, alerting the nurse outside his door. He could see a figure in the corner of the room sitting from a chair and his heart leapt out of his chest. You were ok? 

“Sir, you need to calm down-” The nurse started, trying to get him back into bed. The lights flickered on and he was deeply disappointed in seeing that it was in fact Aaron in the corner. 

“Where is she?!” Spencer demanded, trying to get the much stronger nurse off of him. 

“Spencer, listen to your nurse,” Aaron instructed. 

“Where is my wife?!” He shouted again. “Where is she, Hotch?” 

Aaron looked at him, a quizzical expression on his face. “I’m not telling you anything unless you sit down.”

Spencer sat down, allowing the very irritated nurse to do his job. “Where is she?”

“Who is your wife?” Aaron asked.

“Y/n! Where is she?” He stressed, running a hand through his overgrown hair. 

“I’m here,” you smiled from the doorway before walking to Spencer’s side. You had some bruising and a broken wrist from your fight with the unsub, but you were nowhere near as bad as Spencer. One of his lungs had collapsed from the gunshot and he’d been out for a few days. “They’re not giving you any narcotics, don't worry. You’ve been out for three days, your lung collapsed, and I think that’s it-”

Spencer reached up and grabbed your face and pulled you down, kissing you passionately, albeit sloppily. You could feel the tears on his cheeks and your heart broke. The last few days had been so touch and go, you were scared Spencer wouldn’t be ok, that he would… You didn’t want to think about it.

“Are you ok?” He asked, pulling away.

“Broken wrist and a few bruises, I’ll be fine,” You smiled, a hand on his cheek. 

“Is the baby ok?” He asked as he placed a hand on your stomach. 

Aaron’s brows creased further as the rest of the team by the door looked in with dropped jaws. 

“She’s fine,” you smiled. “I probably just stressed her out a bit.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “She’s a girl?” He practically whispered. 

“Yeah, she’s a girl,” you chuckled as he pulled you closer, a dopey grin on his face as he hugged you and your small bump. 

"You're married?" Aaron asked.

“You’re pregnant?!” Penelope all but screamed from the door. “How did we not notice?” 

You chucked as Spencer just held you close, not even paying attention to the team around you two. 

“Maybe you’re all not as good as you think you are,” Spencer suggested, his head resting between your side and arm. You laughed along with him as the team rolled their eyes, but smiled anyway. 

Spencer had never been so relieved.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, top gun, obx, hunger games, marvel+)

[sincerelybubbles]

Here's a dialogue prompt for Emily please! Try this out pls. Love you Kam sm sm. "So why are you here?" "To make a fool of myself." ok ty lysm

even though i watched u type this, the wording makes me giggle every time i look at it.

emily prentiss x tech analyst!reader <3

warnings: fem!reader, cannon typical violence, very brief allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens!), angst and fluff! mutual pining.

word count: 5.4k

Emily is the loveliest thing you've ever seen and you can't imagine how she could ever possibly like you back. She enjoys the game, though, and teasing you is her favorite hobby.

-

It’s a sunny day. Warmth trickles down with the scattered light through the leaves. Patterns trace your arms, throwing your skin into a collage of different shapes and shades. Leaning back on your elbows, you watch people mill about the park. You look back down at your arm after a few more minutes, this time focused on the small watch resting there. With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your pants before picking up the small blanket you laid out and tucking it into your bag. 

You walk back to work, enjoying the sounds of the people around you. You lingered too long at the park during your break and are hoping that nobody notices your slightly late return. Maybe the team will be in a meeting, gruesome pictures you never quite learned to stomach plastered on the board, entirely oblivious to your tardiness. 

Unlikely, but a welcome thought soothing your anxiety as you push the door open and scan your badge at the security desk. 

“Welcome back,” the security guard says, smiling at you over his paperback. He’s an old greying man and you vaguely recognize him. You think he’s new and send him a warm smile in return. 

“Thanks,” you glance at his name badge, “Martin!”

You walk past him and step into the elevator. “Wait!” A voice calls and you reach forward to hit the hold button instinctively before you register the voice as Emily’s. 

She jogs into the elevator with you, smiling gratefully. “Thanks, I’m already running a little behind.” She lifts a container and shakes it a little. The label is from the Italian bistro across the street, about a ten-minute walk away and always nearly triple that in wait time. 

“Brave of you to go there during your lunch,” you joke, returning her smile and pressing the button for your floor. 

You hope she can’t see how your hands shake as you reach forward.

“I know, I just love their Pasta Brado. Have you tried it?”

“Can’t say I have. I’m boring, I usually go for the parm.”

“You’re not boring,” she says so earnestly that you can’t help but blush. You cough as an excuse to raise your hand to your face and hopefully hide it some. “You do have to try it, though. Here,” she offers you the plastic box. 

“Oh, I couldn’t. And I already ate.” You ignore the way your chest hurts a little at how enthusiastic she is. The worst part? She doesn’t even know how endearing her simple kindness, her casual enthusiasm, is to you. 

“Tomorrow, then. We can go together.” The elevator doors open as she says it and she steps out with an affirmative nod to solidify it. “Don’t try to bail out on me either, I know where to find you.”

“Yeah, I'm okay,” you say, feeling lame as you step out behind her. “I would love to.” She’s too far to hear you, though, already heading to Spencer’s desk and jumping right into his conversation with Morgan. 

Someone says your last name and you turn on your heel to see Hotch and cringe slightly. “I was trying to find you.” It’s a kinder way of him reminding you that you’re nearly ten minutes late back from your lunch. 

“Sorry, sir.”

“It’s fine. Do you have the reports finished from last week's trip to Huston?”

“Yes, sir, they’re at my desk. One moment.”

-

You and Emily don’t go to the bistro the next day because she and the team are sent to a small town in Kansas that night. 

“I’ll owe you lunch,” she says, hand on the back of your desk chair and brushing your shoulder as the team rushes to the jet. 

“Don’t worry about it!” You reassure her.

“I’m taking you to lunch,” she calls over her shoulder, pretend-glaring, “you will try that Brado!”

And then she’s gone, leaving you giddy and breathless. 

You know she’s just being friendly – she treats Spencer, Morgan, and JJ all the same as you – but her efforts to spend one-on-one time with you outside of work still have you feeling like a schoolgirl passed a note from her crush in class. 

You try to remind your heart to stop singing because Emily probably isn’t even gay and definitely isn’t interested. Instead, Garcia scares the shit out of you when she interrupts your inner monologue. 

“Lunch with Emily? Things are getting serious in your work marriage.” You hadn’t seen her walk into the room and jump at her voice, hand jumping to your mouth to suppress a yelp. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“It’s okay, didn’t see you.”

“Your loss, I look fantastic today.”

“As always,” you smile up at her, nose wrinkling and genuine fondness filling your senses. 

“Careful, wouldn’t want a workplace affair,” she jokes, leaning against your desk and picking up the stress ball you keep handy. 

“Stop,” you moan in good nature. “Nobody else calls us work wives.”

“That’s just because they don’t have my brilliance and excellent observational skills.”

“Nor do they have the same privy to my more personal thoughts,” you say, glancing up at her before returning to your paperwork. With the team leaving so quickly to tend to a missing child's case, you’re not getting home in time to cook dinner but are hoping to leave early enough to grab food instead of resorting to your freezer stash. 

“I would hope not. You know I can’t be replaced, baby.”

“Does Morgan know you talk to all your work besties like this?”

“I most certainly do not. You’re a regular bestie, not a work bestie.” A wink and then her expression sobers. “I do have an actual reason for visiting your humble cubical, though.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to need extra hands for this case. It’s time-sensitive, as usual, and seems like it will be particularly tricky.”

“Yes ma’am,” you say, dropping your pen and standing to follow her. 

Your position at the bureau is kind of a catch-all. Most of your time is spent logging data, building reports, and doing general research for the team. Occasionally, though, you jump in to help Garcia with real-time research. Nothing as high-stakes as her direct assignments, more background work. Calling offices to talk to managers, combing through more meticulous data, generic census material to rule out obvious dead ends. 

It’s stressful work that technically isn’t what you’re paid for but you never complain. Your team saves lives, consistently putting themselves in the line of danger. If you have to spend a few hours a month helping Garcia call a suspect's manager at McDonald's to see if he still works there, it’s literally the least you can do. 

“Yes, so, it looks like our unsub…”

You drown out Garcia’s brief about information you already have sitting in front of you and begin vetting possible suspects from the large pool her system created.

It’s going to be a long night. You think about future Brado to cheer you up. 

-

“Reid, Prentiss take the back,” Hotch’s voice fills your ears. You imagine the pair nodding and splitting off from the group. 

This is your least favorite part of helping the team with active investigations – listening in on the calls. It’s rare that you and Garcia join the line when they’re approaching the unsub but, with you helping her, it isn’t a risk to distract Garcia and a much quicker method of getting any new information the team needs. It’s a new system you’ve only tried thrice, unsure how having microphones on 24/7 will work, and it grants you and the team more fluid communication.

Still, adrenaline floods your veins as you listen to their coms, the sounds of Garcia typing a constant behind their voices, imagining every way this could go wrong. 

You suspect the girl is still alive, the uncle doesn’t seem to have any reason to kill her just yet, but your fear for her grows with every minute. 

“Clear!”

Your eyes fall to the receipts flooding your screen. Ammo. A new rifle and pistol. The team knows but the evidence of this unsubs ability to hurt any of your friends, your family, isn’t helping your nerves. 

“I think he’s going to the roof!” Morgan’s voice, clear in the comms. 

You click out of the documents. Two swift motions on the screen. The firm press of the button. 

“Morgan, you’re on foot. Prentiss, follow him. Everyone else in vans, go!”

“Garcia, map out possible escape routes from the roof,” you instruct. 

She nods, screens shifting immediately. She puts on her own headset with one hand and clicks on the call and starts to bark information to Hotch. 

“Got her!” Reid’s voice sounds and you deflate a little. He mutes as he begins to console the small girl. 

You know you can take off your headset now, leave the call, and go to your paperwork. There isn’t much more you can do to help – you’re sure that’s what you’re supposed to do – but you stay on anyway, listening. 

“Right on Elmore!” Morgan calls. You find the street on Garcia’s screen, eyes tracing the path you think they’re taking. 

“We’ll try to cut him off,” Rossi says and you can hear tires in the background of the call. The click of a steering wheel cutting to the side too quickly. Someone’s labored breathing – probably Morgan’s as he dead sprints. 

“Stop! Put your hands up!” Emily shouts. The firmness in her voice makes you sit up straighter in your chair. 

You hear something that sounds vaguely like, “bitch,” before a loud pop drowns anything else out. 

“Emily!” Morgan’s voice, more pops. 

Gunfire. That’s gunfire, your brain recognizes. 

Your blood has gone cold.

“We need a medic!” Morgan shouts. Hotch’s line blinks red, going dead as he calls the ambulance. “Emily, Emily.”

Rustling. Cars. Sirens. Morgan’s line goes dead after you hear a car door slam shut. Then Reid’s and Rossi’s. Emily’s is the last to stay green, blinking.

You and Garcia stare at each other as you listen to Emily be loaded into an ambulance. Listen to Morgan tell the team, voice far away and barely tangible, that the unsub only managed to fire out one shot before he downed him. 

Neither of you can hear where she was shot or how badly injured she is before Emily’s line goes red as well.

-

“Emily?” You call softly, rapping your knuckles softly on the frame of the cracked hospital door. 

Your name, faint, answers you and you take that as permission to nudge the door open. The room looked dark from the hallway but Emily has the small lamp embedded on the wall switched on, throwing her face into harsh shadow. 

“Hey, you,” you say, walking in, arms full. “I brought things.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, trying to sit herself up further and wincing as the motion pulls on her stitches in her abdomen. 

“Wait, let me help you,” you say, setting your things down and reaching out a hand. 

You wait for her nod before touching her, letting her grasp your arm and looping your other arm around the back of her waist to take most of her weight yourself. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles. You can tell she hates feeling useless, hates needing help for something as simple as sitting up, so you drop the subject with a nod and kind smile. 

You turn around to the small rolling tray where you put your things down, pulling two black containers out from a plastic bag. You feel silly and very awkward as you turn around to show them to her. 

“I know it’s probably not quite what you meant but,” you set the containers down on her bed and pop one open. 

“The Pasta Brado! Oh man, I was going to treat you.” She’s pouting through a smile, attempting to put on an upset facade and failing miserably. 

It’s so cute that you struggle with what to say next. 

“Thank you, really. You can pull up that chair, if you’re hungry now.”

You grab the chair she’s motioned to and drag it to sit next to her. “I’m hungry if you are. It might be a little cold, though, it’s kind of a far walk.”

“You walked here?” Emily asks, tone appalled and face comically shocked. 

“Yeah, my car broke down last week. I’ve been walking to work – it’s actually really nice out right now – and I couldn’t find a cab from the bistro.” You busy yourself with the food while you talk, opening the second container, setting it on her legs, and unwrapping the plastic cutlery for her. 

“Jesus! You didn’t need to come and see me if you don’t have a car. You didn’t need to come at all, actually. I really appreciate it,” she amends, seeing how your bashful smile freezes on your face, reaching forward as if to touch your face and brushing your shoulder instead. “It’s really sweet of you but you didn’t need to walk all that way. Isn’t it like a twenty-minute walk from here?”

Over thirty, but you nod anyway, knowing it won’t help your case to correct her. “It’s not a big deal. You were shot in the stomach, of course I wanted to see you.”

“Ah, so you wouldn't want to see me otherwise,” she teases, nodding and pushing her pasta around with her fork. She doesn’t even try to conceal her grin. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” you mumble. You take a bite of your food and your eyes widen. “Oh my god.”

“I knew you would love it,” she beams, watching your expression as you taste the food. You you she meant to say it in a gloating way but you swear you can hear a sort of fondness behind the words. Something in you warms at her ability to know you so well. 

You tell yourself you’re overreacting about both thoughts. 

“You were right – Emily this is unfairly good.”

“Oh, I know,” she says, taking her own bite and letting out an exaggerated moan, complete with an eye roll. You giggle and she smiles at you. “Thank you, this is exactly what I needed.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, holding her eye contact. 

She's been in the hospital for three days, transferred back to Virginia last night; her hair is unwashed and unbrushed, and she’s wearing no makeup and a hospital gown. 

She’s still the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. 

-

Your car is fixed by the time Emily is released from the hospital two days later and you offer to take her home. 

“Hi Sergio,” you greet the cat brushing against your legs as Emily disengages the alarm. 

You set her things down by the door before turning to offer her your arm. Emily doesn’t pretend that she doesn’t need the help when it’s just you two, something you’re grateful for after watching her struggle with the team around, and lets you guide her to her bedroom. 

You set about making her comfortable, turning down her sheets and propping the pillows up so she can sit. 

“I’ve got it,” she laughs, playfully pushing away your hands. 

You laugh along with her, raising your hands and backing away. “I’m going to go put the rest of your stuff away and get you a drink.”

“Perfect, I’ll take an old-fashioned. Don’t forget the cherry.”

You roll your eyes at her, scoffing and leaving her room. 

You throw her clothes and go-bag in her laundry room before making her a glass of water and another glass of juice. Once you’re sure she’s settled in her bed with her book, you return to the kitchen to make her a few dinners, ignoring her protests. 

-

Emily is back in the field much sooner than you would have liked. 

“I was cleared by the doctors,” she tells you, coat slung over her arm as she digs through her bag for her badge. 

You smile at Martin, sending him a mock exasperated look, before she finds her ID and shows it to him. 

“It still seems too soon, Em,” you persist, reaching forward to push the elevator button and turning so you can lean back to watch her face. 

“Em?” Emily asks, the hint of a smile pulling up the left corner of her mouth. 

You sort of feel like you could die in that moment, just from the heat that simple gesture surges through you. 

“It just sort of slipped out, sorry,” you say, thoroughly embarrassed. 

The elevator dings and the doors open, throwing you off balance for a second. This doesn’t help your already flared nerves as you stumble back and drop your bag. You reach down to gather it and the files scattered across the floor. 

You’re kneeling to stuff everything in your bag when Emily crosses your line of sight again, wide smile on her face – teeth fully on display and nose scrunched, you are in desperate need of help – holding out your notepad.

“I think the nickname’s sweet. I kind of like the idea of having a name only one person, only you, calls me.”

All of the air has left this godforsaken elevator, the heat must be on, you stare dumbly at her as she reaches forward to grab your bag and put the rest of your papers inside of it for you. 

And then, realizing you look like an absolute idiot, you snap back into your body and cough slightly. The doors ding and open again, you grab your bag from her and stand slowly. Smiling at her, still crouched on the floor and looking, amused, up at you through her eyelashes, you say, “Okay. Thanks, then, Emmy.”

You walk away after that brief flash of confidence, telling yourself you’re just imagining how you swear her face flushed bright at your comment. 

And if Morgan mentions a few minutes that Emily seems flusters, well, who can blame you for floating on that high for a few days?

Except she doesn’t let it go. 

She corners you on your break in the kitchenette. Literally. She catches you when you’re examining the coffee pot that has been making concerning gurgles for the past few days and leans on the counter behind you, effectively blocking your exit. 

Not that you really want to leave. 

She’s wearing a red tank top and dark jeans, her hair is loose around her shoulders, eyes steadily trained on your face as you work. 

“Hello,” you say, quiet in a way you’re not normally. 

“Hi.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask after a few more moments of her silently staring at you while you pretend to know what you’re doing with a screwdriver. 

“Enjoying the view.”

You drop your screwdriver and relish in the sound of her laugh. 

-

You’d love to say that you had some suave answer to return her charm but you think you spent it all that morning with your boldness. 

You’re not shy but confidence doesn’t run in your blood either. You’d say you’re pretty normal – average. You don’t find much wrong with that, you know you have other qualities that build you up into an interesting person. You love your friends and coworkers deeply, for one. And have an intense trust in them and their abilities. 

That trust is always tested in your day-to-day at work but never more than now as you feel the car around you make turns at highway speeds. You think you’re on some sort of back road but it’s hard to tell from the trunk given the obvious lack of windows. 

You’re calmer than you thought you would be if kidnapped. 

Groaning after one particularly rough turn that has you jostling against the sides of the trunk, you allow your head to thump back and stare at the inside of the dark car. Light breaks through the cracks of the hinges of the trunk and you wonder if water trickles through when it rains. 

You’ve been in here too long to consider if you’re focused on the wrong things. You’re scared shitless, of course, but the adrenaline faded about an hour into your drive and now you’re just bored. 

Imagine that – bored as fuck in the trunk of a stranger's car, wrists burning from the rope and jaw sore from where it’s been forced open too long by the fabric tied around the back of your head. 

You’re just allowing yourself to reimagine your morning with Emily when the car stops and the engine cuts. 

You snap back into the present, energy flooding your system again as your brain flicks into overdrive. You might spend your days paper-pushing behind a desk, but you passed your physical. You’re smart, you’ve heard the stories of how these victims survive captivity. 

When the trunk pops open, you squeeze your eyes shut to prevent pain from the sudden lack of light. You don’t want to be blinded and the action has the added benefit of pleasing your captor. He put a hood over your hood when he grabbed you, muttering in your ear in tense tones that you would do best to not even try to see him. 

Say what you will, you usually do a pretty good job at following directions. This one is easy and happens to be number one on your list right now – keep him happy so he keeps you alive. 

“Good girl,” a gruff voice says before a calloused hand gropes the back of your neck to yank you forward. Scratchy fabric envelops your head and your hot breath bounces back against you, trapped against the fabric of the hood. 

You stand when his hands start to grab your waist, pulling yourself to your knees and allowing yourself to be lifted from the trunk.

You want to run but know now’s not the time. 

“Look at how well-behaved you are!” His breath is wet against your neck. He stands too close, hands clawing under the hem of your shirt to cling to your skin. 

He walks you forward like that, chest pressed against your back and breath slithering down the collar of your shirt to hang uncomfortably over your collarbones. 

It’s becoming increasingly more obvious what this sicko wants from you and your stomach is twisting at the thought. You urge the team to hurry up, knowing your absence would have been missed ages ago. They have to be looking for you by now. And, with how sloppy this dude seems to be, he must have left a plethora of clues waiting to be found. 

You have to repeat this to yourself as you hear a door lock click. 

“Took you long enough. This is the girl? She’s kind of … well,” the second man kisses his teeth with a sharp sound. You’re pushed forward again. “Whatever floats your boat man.” The door shuts and locks behind you. The second man's voice fades as he talks, disinterested. 

You wonder if it’s wrong to feel slightly insulted right now. 

“This way, doll.”

You listen. It’s saving your life to be complicit in his directions, so you listen. Still, you’re shoved harshly to the floor once you get to where he wants you, knees striking what feels like cement. Before you can recover, your cheek stings and your head is whipping to the side from a sudden slap. 

Then, there’s a kick to your ribs. You fall onto your side, too winded to even cry out, lips falling open in a silent scream. A boot in your belly. Your ribs again, your hip and back. 

“Why?” You manage to sob out. “Why, why?”

You don’t get an answer.

-

You’re not overly religious but you thank whatever heavens or universe exists that he leaves you alone once he’s done kicking the shit out of you. Your ribs are bruised but the worst you expected hasn’t happened. 

The boredom returns as you lay with throbbing ribs. At least one is broken and every breath hurts. You can’t imagine sitting up and, luckily, with your hands tied behind your back, it’s not really an option anyway. 

It must be near an hour later when you’re fading out of consciousness – a purposeful choice on your part to save your energy – when you hear the front door burst down. 

“FBI! Hands where I can see them!” Morgan. You nearly weep but think better when your stuttered gasp makes your side throb. “What the fuck?” You hear shouted in reply. “Robb, what the fuck man.”

There isn’t much of a resistance from the living room. The second man is shouting at what you can only assume is the first – your initial kidnapper – but there’s nothing else other than that. 

“Clear!” You hear Hotch call. Spencer replies and then you hear the door nearest you open. 

His voice calls out your name. You deflate against the floor. A second, you know he’s scanning the room with his gun before holstering it. “Clear! I need a medic!”

Hands, gentle, against your face, removing the hood. Swifter after that, removing your gag, and then hand binds. 

“Hey, Spence,” you say, trying to smile up at him. 

“Shh, you’re okay. We’ve got you.” He starts to support your weight behind your shoulders and the pain that brings is too intense to prevent your yelp. 

“Oh my god, is she okay?” You hear Emily ask seconds before you see her. She looks concerned, hair now in a tight ponytail and FBI vest strapped over her chest. She whispers your name once and then a second time, reaching forward to gently brush your hair out of your eyes. 

“Hey, pretty,” you say, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can catch them.

“Hi beautiful,” she answers, reply just as soft as your own. Earnest. 

It makes your heart ache and, for the first time since being yanked off the road walking to grab lunch, you start to cry. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, beautiful, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She repeats this as you’re lifted by the paramedics and cry harder. 

She repeats it when they stitch up where kicks burst the skin over your cheekbone open, repeats it as she trails a hand down your arm in gentle patterns while they examine your ribs and confirm that you’ve broken two, maybe three. 

She tries with you in the ambulance. 

You can’t help but think about being on the phone when you heard Emily be shot weeks earlier. You squeeze your eye shut as they insert the IV, beyond grateful that she’s there to hold your hand while they do it. The tear that falls down your cheek has nothing to do with the pain and everything to do with the thought that you couldn’t have been there for her in the same way. 

An odd thought, you realize, but it’s the one you’re stuck with as you drift away when the pain medicine enters your system. 

-

You’re sent home three days later. You insist on spending the night alone, afraid to admit you’re scared because, honestly, nothing much happened to you. 

Oh, of course, everyone tries to convince you otherwise but you know they’ve all had it worse. You were gone from the bureau for about eight hours and spent most of it bored. 

So you force yourself to spend the night alone. You don’t need help moving around or doing things for yourself so you convince yourself you don’t need help. 

You’re cooking dinner when the doorbell rings. You wipe your hands with a dish towel and take your time walking to the door to look through the peephole. You don’t know who took you yet, you haven’t asked and nobody has said, but you can imagine seeing him through the door. Waiting for you, waiting to kill you this time. 

Okay, yeah, maybe Spencer was right when he talked about PTSD and usual levels of anxiety, but you’re so tired of him being so right all of the time that you really want to prove him right.

There is no man standing on the other side of the door, though. Instead, you see Emily, holding a plate wrapped in tin foil and looking serene in your apartment hallway. 

You open the door quickly, unlatching it and turning off your alarm with a few clicks. “Emily?”

“Ah, man, I was getting used to Emmy,” she jokes, stepping inside with a smile in your direction and kicking off her shoes. 

You can’t think of an answer so you just smile at her, hoping she’ll take the lead. You’re tired and she must see it because she offers the plate in her hands to you once the door is closed and the alarm is reengaged. 

“Rossi sent me with it with explicit instructions to not let you share it.”

You giggle and take the plate. “I’ll have to tell him thank you. It’s kind of out of your way to come all this way, though, isn’t it?”

“Not out of my way at all,” she says, words dripping with meaning as she holds your eyes. “I would have come even if Rossi didn’t have food for you.”

“So why are you here?”

“To make a fool of myself,” she says, casually, like that’s something people say every day, “probably. You’ve just gotten back from the hospital and I know you said you wanted to be alone, but,” she swallows and her words are becoming more rushed as she speaks, “I said the same thing and you still stayed.”

“Emily?” You ask, setting the plate down on your hallway table and clearing your throat. “Ah, Emmy?” You amend when she cuts you a look. Your attempt to diffuse the tension doesn’t work and she steps closer so you’re toe to toe.

“That doesn’t really answer your question, though. You’re sweet enough that you would let it go, but,” she shrugs, reaching forward to gently loop her fingers around your wrists. “Stop me if this is awful timing. Please,” she says, leaning forward and staring into your eyes. 

You feel like you’re suffocating, but if this is death, you’ll greet it gladly in the irises of Emily Prentiss. You’re caught in the trap of the moment, heart hardly breathing, all aches and sores forgotten because Emily is leaning closer, breath fanning across your face. You feel intoxicated, ensnared. 

Everything that has ever been exists here, now, in this moment. Every breath used to blow out birthday candles and blow away eyelashes – breaths with purpose, with wishes, with intent – exists between the two of you as she leans closer and closer. Closer, still, and how can so much distance exist between you two when you’ve been standing so closely?

“Just, stop me, if you want,” she whispers against your lips, eyes falling shut. 

Time yawns again, freezing. Your eyes open, hers closed, beats of seconds pausing. Hesitating for you to hold this moment in your hands. You’re grateful to appreciate it because she really is so lovely. Her bangs are pushed back from her face with a headband – imagine that! Emily owns headbands! – and you can see every detail of her face. Her elegant nose, her slim eyebrows, her narrow, prominent, lips.

And then your heart finally catches up, beats loudly, cracks whatever fragile plane of glass holding the moment so perfectly still, and her lips are meeting yours. 

You gasp into her mouth, hands breaking out of her hold to grab her face. You’re afraid that she’s going to pull away before this kiss can be fully real. Before you can actually taste her – lemon cake and rain and warmth. Before you can memorize the feel of her lips pressed against your own before you can drag her closer and slip your hands into her hair. 

But she doesn’t pull away. She meets your enthusiasm with a sigh and then enthusiasm tenfold. You can feel relief in the kiss, feel how she relaxes into you. She takes a step forward and you take one back half the amount to account for it. 

A tilt of your head and it’s better, impossibly. She’s firm, sturdy, beautiful. Confident. Lovely, lovely, lovely. 

And then she reaches forward to hold you to her, hands brushing your ribs to wrap around your back and you can’t hold in the gasp of pain that causes you to stiffen. You want to take it back, want to ignore the pain, want to keep her near, but she won’t allow it.

“Oh, I’m so so sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry.” You smush the apologies against her lips, removing one hand from her hand to guide her arms around your shoulders where they won’t hurt. “Okay! Okay,” she giggles, leaning back with several short kisses that do nothing to satiate you. “I need to know you’re okay.”

She can obviously tell she hasn’t hurt you too bad by your reaction, but the sweet caution in her voice has you melting further. 

“I’m perfect.”

[golden-moony]

king of my heart | smau

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader | pato o'ward x fem!reader

summary: y/n is an F1 content creator loved among the grid and the fans, and more than one person ships her with lando due to how close they've always been. but when y/n goes to her first IndyCar race, the last thing she expects is being involved in rumours with another mclaren driver.

warnings: love triangle? kinda.

author's note: i might turn this into a mini series but i'll see how it goes. btw english it's not my first language so if there's any grammatical error please let me know so i can fix it, ty🧡 now enjoy!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

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

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; it's indycar weekend in Long Beach, babyyyy!] [caption 2; time for practice and snacks🌞]

patriciooward

liked by indycar, zbrownceo, yourusername, and 83,527 others!

patriciooward INDY500 colors and back in the streeetz🤩

user1 lookin' goooood🔥

arrowmclaren it'll look even better with confetti covering it😉 user2 admin knows a win is coming!! 💪

user3 Este es tu año, cabrón! VAMOOOOS 🇲🇽

user4 is it a requirement to be handsome to drive in mclaren? cause daaaamn

user5 same girl, same

yourusername black is the new papaya fr 🔥 can't wait for tomorrow!

patriciooward hopefully you'll be wearing #5 user6 OMG?!?!!!??? yourusername can't show favoritism! i'm a professional, sir patriciooward it can be our secret then 😉 user7 OH MY- HELLOOOOO? user8 landonorris come get your girl bro!!! user9 omfg mr o'ward i wasn't familiar with your game user10 y/n sweety, wrong mclaren driver landonorris 🤨 user11 she really said i want a mclaren, don't care which one😭 user12 and she's so real for that

user13 let's goooo Pato!! 🦆🧡

user14 y/n and pato's exchange?? NEW SHIP HAS ARRIVED!

user15 i feel like i'm betraying my roots but pato and y/n would be the it couple fr user16 SO TRUE user17 pato and lando deserve sooo much better.

user18 NOT LANDO REPLYING TO THE COMMENT 😂😂

user19 f1twt is about to have a blast with this one 🍿 user20 they already have #teampato and #teamlando hashtags going on 😭😭

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; preparation for ✨qualy day✨] [caption 2; that's how you arrive in style]

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, alexanderrossi, shelovesformula1, and 76,088 others!

yourusername First IndyCar race ✅ can't explain how incredible this weekend was! I’ve had the pleasure of chatting to so many cool people, discovering so much about this series and meeting so many of you! 🧡 can't wait to show you everything soon 😘

user1 what a babeeeee 😍

frosenqvist so great to meet you! hope you come to another one again soon! 🏁

arrowmclaren we second this! user2 she's an indy girl now 😎 tkanaan especially after all the fun we had last night😜 yourusername oh i'll definitely come back for more races (and parties ofc🙊) user3 she's part of the family now! love to see it user4 mclaren team 🤝 us: being in love with y/n

user5 PATO INTERVIEW??!! WE WON

lissiemackintosh so happy to have met you!! 💖

yourusername can't wait to see u again 🥹 user6 MY FAVES 🤩🤩 user7 girls supporting girls 💞 user8 we need a colab!

landonorris y/n get out of there. That's not your family!

carlossainz55 y/n please hurry, the kid has missed you maxverstappen1 y/n please hurry, we can't stand him anymore maxfewtrell y/n please hurry, he gets whiny when you're not around alex_albon y/n please hurry, oscar is about to commit crime oscarpiastri that is correct, so please y/n hurry landonorris when i asked y'all to back me up, this is NOT what i meant 🙄 yourusername if it helps at all, i've miss you all 🫶 (except Lando) landonorris i hate y'all fr user9 this is the kind of content i pay my internet bill for 😂

user10 literal queen 👑

user11 she couldn't become lando's wag so now she goes to indy to try to find a man lol such a clout chaser

user12 girl stfu she's literally just doin her job user13 try not to sound so bitter next time 💋 user14 get a life, hater

user15 MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user16 i don't think we're talking enough about that last photo

user17 RIGHT?! Y/N X PATO LET'S GOO user18 nah y/n x lando >>>>>>>>

patooward Indy looks good on you 💯 i wonder who took that amazing first pic

yourusername credits to you, amateur😘 user19 you can't convince me they're not flirting user20 i truly don't know if i wanna be pato or y/n... i only know i'd hate to be lando rn 😭 user21 y/n and lando are the endgame user22 Y/N X PATO TILL THE END

landonorris posted to his story!

[caption; safe and sound where she belongs]

sooo.... y'all want part 2?

[horangare]

omggg please do a part 2 to the dilf jeonghan fic

tis the season

pairing : dilf!jeonghan x college student!reader

content : smut (mdni u already know)

in which : it’s time for christmas break, and iseul is asking you to buy some time with her father so she can finish her last minute shopping. you’ve been meaning to spend some one on one time with her dad, and now you finally can

warnings : age gap (late 40’s jeonghan, early 20’s reader), daddy kink (i’m sorry but it’s also like barely there), pet names (princess, baby, good girl, slut, whore, sir), dom & sub dynamics, dumbification, teasing (dirty talk, degradation, praise), mentions of multiple orgasms, fingering, finger sucking, lingerie kink (kinda? i think?), u two want each other so bad, iseul (yeah she’s a warning in this one lol), hannie’s kinda mean but u like it

wc : 3.3K words

note : i was wondering how long it would be before someone requested this. srry it took so long omg i had no idea what i wanted to do w this i literally had like 3 diff ideas

part 1

By now, the Yoon household had become like a second home to you.

Even though it was just Iseul, Jeonghan, and that big maze of a house, it didn’t ever feel like anything was missing. Since Iseul brought you over the first time, things hardly ever changed. You’d still slept in Iseul’s room whenever you slept over (until Jeonghan made one of the guest rooms into a room for you, then the two of you both started having your sleepovers there), you still took a wrong turn trying to find the bathroom and ended up in the kitchen or the laundry room, and you still ended up bent over on a new surface somewhere in the house while Jeonghan had his way with you.

It was a comfortable routine. One you were upset would have to abandon for the next three weeks to drag yourself back to your dull little hometown to spend time with your family and a handful of other relatives who’s names you couldn’t remember even if you tried.

“You know you could just come stay with us,” Iseul said offhandedly one day when you mentioned how much you were dreading on returning home. The suggestion hadn’t held that much meaning when Iseul gave it, she already knew just how much you enjoyed coming over, but in that moment she had become your saving grace.

“Really? You mean it?” The girl just nodded, jumping in surprise when you pulled her into a hug and spun her around. “What would I do without you, Iseul?”

“Wow, it’s that bad, huh?” She laughed, patting you on the shoulder once you had placed her back on the ground.

“Oh please, you have no idea.”

You rode in Iseul’s car for the first time the next day. When she asked how you were planning to get there and you mentioned the countless number of times you’ve Ubered back and forth to her house, she nearly started crying and promised to drive you anywhere you wanted from now on. “Do you know how much money that adds up to? No more Ubers!”

So now here you were, in the passengers seat of Iseul’s white Honda Accord, gripping onto the handle above the door as Iseul sped down the roads with the most stoic look on her face you think you’ve ever seen. The Ubers may have been expensive, but at least they were safe. It confused you a little; you had ridden in the car with Jeonghan at the wheel before and never had an experience like this. Clearly Iseul hadn’t inherited those skills from him, but right now you were wishing she had.

“Are you alright?” She looked over at you when the car finally came to a stop at a red light. You nodded, one of your hands flat against your chest as you felt your heart threatening to beat right out of your ribcage. Iseul smiled, either ignoring the panic you were trying to hide or not picking up on it at all as she sped off as soon as the light had turned green. “We’re gonna take a shortcut, there’s way too much traffic right now and—shit!” The car lurched to a halt, both you and Iseul’s bodies jerking forward with the sheer force of the stop. “Oops, I almost hit the curb.”

You really needed your own car.

After spending the next eight minutes in Iseul’s death trap car, you pretty much threw yourself out of the seat when you saw that she was pulling into the garage to the side of the house. You considered kissing the ground, but you didn’t. Your sister was a worse driver.

“Dad, we’re home,” Iseul shouted into the warm interior of the house. There was no immediate verbal response from Jeonghan, he just snaked his way through the hallways of the space with a mug in his hands and a smile on his face.

“Hi, Seulie,” He hummed, letting his eyes wander over to you. “Hello, [Y/n].”

“Hi, Mr. Yoon.”

“How was the drive? Was there a lot of traffic?” Jeonghan had already started retreating back to the living room, you and Iseul followed, seating yourselves next to each other on the couch.

“It was fine. The traffic wasn’t so bad, everyone’s probably going to the airport.” Iseul hummed. She turned her head in your direction. “Dad’s happy you’re staying over. He pretends like he’s calm about it, but he giggled when I called him and told him earlier.”

Your body flushed with heat at your friend’s casual comment, your eyes flitting over to Jeonghan, who was staring down into his mug. The two of you haven’t gotten to spend much time together for a while since you were usually coming over to spend time with Iseul lately. He missed you.

“We’ll have the next three weeks to spend together, sir.” You smiled, finally getting him to look back at you. One of his eyebrows quirked upwards—he was expecting to keep that promise, but he wouldn’t say it. He would just expect you to act on it.

And you would.

You hadn’t acted on it.

A week into staying with Iseul and Jeonghan, you had spent almost every waking moment of your time with your friend. Baking cookies, decorating the house, watching Christmas movies, going ice skating for the first time in your life (and having Iseul laugh at you until she cried when you ate shit on the ice over and over again), and a plethora of other festive events. You had been having such a good time with her, the promise you made to Jeonghan had let itself slip from your mind. The most the two of you could do was kiss for a few seconds before Iseul came popping up from around a corner or shouting your name to the house in hopes of a response. She was his daughter, and you were her friend, but he was losing his patience. All he wanted was some time to have you all to himself.

Maybe today he would finally get the chance.

Monday morning greeted you with a six am phone call from Iseul, which you answered, your mind and voice still riddled with sleep. “Hello?”

“So sorry to call you so early, but I am totally gonna make it up to you.”

“Iseul, what—”

“Look, I have to finish shopping for presents. I don’t know when I’ll be done, there’s kind of a lot on my list,” She explained, and you thought she was joking. It was just her, you, and Jeonghan. How long could the list possibly be? “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know where I was. Something else…oh! Maybe spend some time with dad while I’m away. He gets lonely, y’know. Okay, that’s all, bye!” Iseul hung up the phone before you could even process everything she had said, leaving you staring at the device in your hand dumbfounded.

“Okay.” You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed and to the bathroom (the one connected to your new room, because you were sick and tired of almost pissing yourself because you walked into the study instead) to freshen up.

Finally, you thought. Finally you’d have private time to spend, just you and Jeonghan. The time you spend with Iseul was precious to you, obviously, the girl was your best friend. But if you said the reason you had wanted to come over was just to avoid your family and bond with Iseul, you’d have been lying. You smiled to yourself, wondering what the two of you would do, and you squeezed your thighs together if it would be anything like you had come to finish your midterm project.

You jumped at the sound of the door opening and peeked your head out of the bathroom, your body relaxing when you saw Jeonghan standing in the doorway, his hands behind his back. You sighed with relief, bending over slightly to spit out the toothpaste in your mouth and wiping your mouth.

“Do you and Iseul always wake up so early?” You asked him as he got closer. He shook his head.

“It’s usually just me that’s up at this time.” He mumbled. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Last minute shopping.” You said, finally turning your body to face his. His hands were still behind his back, and Jeonghan smirked when you tried to peek at what he was hiding. “What is that?”

“What, this?” He shrugged. “Oh nothing. Just something I picked up one day. It’s supposed to be your present, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give it to you now, hm?”

You gasped, your heart swelling with the knowledge that Jeonghan had gone out and gotten something for you. Both of his eyebrows shot up at the excitement creeping onto your face and he quickly turned away from you.

“Or maybe I should just wait until Christmas. You wouldn’t mind, would you? I’m sure the presents Seulie got for you will be better than this.” Still smirking, Jeonghan started to walk away but stopped in place when you pulled on his arm.

“No! I’m sorry sir, really am.” You pouted, reaching to try and take the present from Jeonghan, but he easily held it just out of your reach. “Iseul will be gone for a while. It’s…just the two of us.”

Jeonghan groaned at that. He loved his daughter, but he’d gone too long without getting to have you all to himself. Turning back around, Jeonghan placed the gift in your hands. “Alright, princess. Just one condition before you open this.”

“Anything for you, sir.” You but your lip in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the response he would give you. Jeonghan leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You have to do anything I say, got that?” You exhaled shakily, but you still nodded, and Jeonghan cupped your face, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. He tasted good, sweet, like hot chocolate. That’s probably what he’s been drinking in that mug everyday. When he pulled away, you whined, much to Jeonghan’s delight. “I’m not going anywhere. Go on, open your present.”

You smiled, giving your full attention to the neatly wrapped box in your hands, gently untying the silver ribbon holding it together and lifting the top of the box up. You gasped. Lingerie. Jeonghan got you lingerie. “S-sir, I…”

“Put it on for me. Right here.”

Stunned into silence by his abrupt request, your clothing was thrown to the ground with haste. Jeonghan watched you the entire time from his seat on the edge of your bed, drinking in the way you would fidget and avoid making eye contact with him. Yeah, you were a little nervous. He’s never asked you to strip for him, usually he would just rip off your clothes to avoid wasting any time. He really seemed to be enjoying the fact that Iseul was away.

“It’s pretty, sir.” You whispered, tracing your fingers over the delicate lace now adorning your skin. It was white with pale pink detailing, and the bra piece had mesh slips that went all the way around your upper body. The bottom piece was a thong with a slit at the crotch. Oh, and one more tiny little detail. It was almost entirely see through. “Did you have to get something with one of these…holes?”

Jeonghan nodded, pulling you into his lap, your back flush against his chest. “Makes things easier,” he said, trailing his fingers up your inner thigh. You exhaled shakily at the feeling of them circling around your wet hole. “Already so wet for me, aren’t you?” You nodded, unable to stop the moan that spilled from your lips when he pushed one of them inside you.

There was nothing Jeonghan wanted more than to fuck you senseless right now. He’d been holding himself back for a week. Just the sounds of your moans and the way he had to hold you down just to get you to stop squirming had his cock straining against his pants. The only reason he bothered with foreplay was so you’d take him without a fuss (and because he liked it when you begged him not to stop).

Your head fell back onto Jeonghan’s shoulder at the addition of a second finger, your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hanging open while you panted and whined. “F-Feels s’ good, sir. Missed this so much. Missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, baby,” Jeonghan mumbled, curling his fingers up inside of you to hit that spot that had your head spinning. You’re shaking and sweating and you can’t think straight, the feeling of Jeonghan’s fingers caressing your insides forces any other thoughts out of your head. Just when you think you can’t handle anything else, Jeonghan suddenly pinches your swollen clit, the sensation making you tighten around his fingers as you scream. “Liked that, didn’t you?” He repeated the action, the corners of his lips tilting upwards when your body reacted the same way once again.

“Mmm, yeah, liked it so much, sir. Gonna c-cum, can I?” You forced your eyes open to look at him, the pleasing look on your face doing nothing but making him harder. If he didn’t need to fuck you so bad, he would’ve said no. Seeing as this wasn’t the case, Jeonghan nodded, despite wanting this to last just a little longer.

“Yeah, princess. Go ahead and cum for me.”

His permission was all you needed before you allowed yourself to fall apart on his fingers. You cry out his name over and over until you’re left breathless. Jeonghan continues to finger you until your high has passed, and once it has, he pulls his fingers out and holds them up to your mouth. “Open,” he says, and you allow your lips to part enough for him to stick them into your mouth.

The taste of yourself on your own tongue and the action itself has you groaning, and you close your lips around his fingers, sucking off every last drop of your release.

“Good girl, sucking my fingers like the whore you are. I almost forgot how much of a slut you are,” This time, Jeonghan groans at your actions, pulling his fingers away. When you finally opened your eyes again, he was already naked. Oh, naked Jeonghan, one of your favorite sights, by far. Leaning forward, you ghosted your hands over the base of his cock, which had the older man moaning. “Fuck, baby, so desperate for my cock aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

You fell backwards onto the bed and gazed up into Jeonghan’s eyes, holding onto his arms tightly as the tip of his cock slipped into your aching pussy. It had been long—too long—that you had gone without the satisfying feeling of Jeonghan stretching you apart and filling you to the brim, you almost forgot how good it felt. Jeonghan felt the same, he had long craved the warmth of your insides, how wet you’d get for him so easily, how you so easily obeyed his every order.

He didn’t bother to start off slow, not when he had been waiting so long to finally have you like this. His pace was rough and unforgiving, each thrust seemed deeper than the last, but still you loved every second of it.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting his to be as close to you as he could possibly be. “Ah! Yes, right there, sir!” You cried, out as his cock abused your sweet spot, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Feels so good, doesn’t it, princess? You like it when I fuck you like this? Hm? When I use this tight, cute little pussy of yours?”

You nodded, the words you had planned to say dying at the back of your throat and being replaced by sounds that were a combination of grunts and moans. With one of his hands, Jeonghan held onto your face, trying to get you to look at him. Your eyes were glassy and unfocused with lust, and Jeonghan grinned at your fucked-out state.

“Oh baby, if only you could see yourself,” He groaned. “So fucking pretty, you can’t even use your words. All you can do is moan like the little cockslut you are, isn’t that right?” Just like he had done before, Jeonghan’s fingers pinched your clit, once again making you cry out with pleasure.

You tried to speak—to warn him of your imminent orgasm, but all you could squeak out were a chorus of high-pitched whines as the man above you pushed you closer to your release. He seemed to get the hint though, with the way your hole clenched around his cock, making it harder for him to move.

“Gonna cum, princess?” You squeaked again. “Aw, I know, baby. Poor sweet thing, can’t even tell me yourself. You don’t need to ask me, since I’m sure you would’ve cum anyway. But go ahead, cum.” His tone was so mean and condescending, and that was exactly that tone that made you cum for a second time.

Not even a moment after you had cum, Jeonghan was following you over the edge, pushing his cum deeper into your pulsating core all while your spent body shuddered beneath him. He shushed you, stroking your hair to get you to become calm and quiet once more before snapping his hips forward again.

“S-sir! I’m still…” Jeonghan shushed you again, never letting up with the fast pace he had set earlier on. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin against skin being one of the only sounds in the room aside from your pornographic moans and the occasional groans or rare grunt from Jeonghan. You were so out of it, you couldn’t even stop the words that came flying out of your mouth. “D-Daddy, please…”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard Jeonghan moan so loud.

“It’s alright baby, Daddy’s got you.”

The two of you continued for what felt like hours. Several different positions, a dozen more orgasms, one very long bath, and a two-hour long nap later, you could finally feel your body again. You blinked, looking around the room when Jeonghan opened the door.

“You’re awake,” his smile was gentle. “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head. “No, that’s alright, thank you.”

Jeonghan made his way to the bed and knelt down in front of you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I, baby?” The concern was written all over his face, the idea of you being in any sort of pain or discomfort would absolutely break his heart. Now you were the one smiling.

“No, never. If that were the case I would’ve told you, sir,” you tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, letting your hand linger on the side of his face. “I think I’m in love with you.” You confessed quietly, almost as if you were afraid to admit it.

“You’re really gonna act all shy after everything we’ve done today?” He teased you, resting his head on your thighs. “Don’t worry, princess. I love you too.”

Don’t worry princess, I love you too.

You could’ve died right then. Jeonghan’s cheek on your thigh, his breath tickling your skin, reciprocating his love for you. Nothing could be better. Just you, Jeonghan, and—

“Hellooooo? [Y/n]? Dad? I’m home.”

Iseul.

“Iseullllll!” You shouted. Jeonghan pulled himself away despite his reluctance to part from you and stood himself up right as Iseul walked into the room.

She gasped. “Dad? You’re here too? Did I miss something?”

“Nothing at all, Seulie.” Jeonghan assured his daughter, his hand on her back as he walked her out of the room. “Did you find everything you were looking for? Nothing happened to the car, right?”

“I drive fine, what do you mean? You’re mean, you know that? [Y/n] never complains about my driving.”

He spared you one last glance, and your heart skipped a beat. It was just like the last time. Except this time, you loved Jeonghan, and he loved you back.

And that was the only thing you could ever want for Christmas.

[bth3cowboi]

love conjeture, lh44 x reader

masterlist

pairing: lewis hamilton x mathematician!reader

summary: sometimes algorithms win championships, other times they help find love. (social media au)

mercedesamgf1

liked by yninmath, georgerussell63 and 879.301 others

mercedesamgf1 This year we want to give a special thank-you to Dr. Yn Ln! With the creation of her new algorithm focused on data analysis and her extensive collaboration this season our view in analytics evolved to unimaginable levels. We are forever grateful for her contributions and what they mean for the future of Formula 1. Thanks again Dr. Ln, and good luck with the thesis! 😎💻

tagged yninmath;

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yninmath thank you for the opportunity🫡💙 it was an honor to work alongside this great team

mercedesamgf1 👏💙

user1 omg work girlll!!

user2 just googled her and im going crazy like how do you have 3 phds at 27😭?

user3 graduated super early too shes kind of a genius lol

lewishamilton thank you miss yn💙

yninmath your welcome sir champion🥹

user4 ok this is cuteee

user5 you should be thanking him bffr

georgerussell63 Outstanding!🙌 Make sure to come back Dr. Yn

yninmath oh but the travelling😮‍💨

lewishamilton nah you’ll make it back

yninmath if you say so haha

yninmath

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yninmath currently picking up trash couches, writing thesis and remembering the friends ive made along the way 🤓💘

on a serious note, if anyone is interested in reading about topology feel free to read my new paper abt it (link in bio #influencer)

tagged bestfriend, roscoelovescoco;

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roscoelovescoco working’s hard🐾😵‍💫

yninmath or hardly working🤔

bestfriend surprised the couch didnt bring rats or something

yninmath no rats or fleas!!! its been a great couch #trashcouch #luckygirls

bestfriend please never use # again

user1 great paper dr yn😍 is there any way I could get your paper on the hodge conjeture for academical porpouses? magazines are too expensive, help a girl out🙏

yninmath dm me girl that should be free so make sure your class gets it too

user2 dr yn youre saving the nyu maths class of 25’🫡

lewishamilton no rest on break miss yn?

yninmath you know me already haha💞

user3 suspicious…

user4 what? they cant be just friends?

user5 I thought she worked for merecedes, what is this?

user6 she was only there to develop part of her thesis tho still won them another championship

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f1paddockgossip

liked by pierregasly and 903.443 others

f1paddockgossip BREAKING! Lewis Hamilton was caught while vacationing in France with mathematician and Mercedes’ collaborator Dr. Yn Ln. The pair are rumored to be in a months-long relationship already, starting in the middle of last season.

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user1 NOOOOO

user2 isnt she like way younger than him? weird

user3 shes literally a grown woman lol she can be with whoever she pleases

user4 no cause they actually look really cute🥹 so happy for them

user5 right! she seems super nice

user6 i just know that man is confused everytime she talks numbers lmao the curse of dating a stem girlie

lewishamilton

liked by yninmath, f1 and 3.478.139 others

lewishamilton congrats on the finished thesis miss yn😉💙 love you

comments have been limited

yninmath love u and ty for the championship😘 would have failed otherwise

lewishamilton 😂😂

lewishamilton anything for my girl

yninmath 🥹

yninmath

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and others

yninmath you best believe he sat on the #trashcouch #dearlordwhenigettoheaven

comments have been limited

bestfriend did it have fleas lewishamilton?

lewishamilton no but I was worried

yninmath booo tomatoes

bestfriend just buy a new one please

yninmath i believe in sustentability🫡🍃

lewishamilton there has to be a limit

lewishamilton ❤️❤️

yninmath love you sm

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——

a/n: ty for reading and i hope you enjoyed🩷 maybe ill be writing more for different drivers soon, so if anyone is interesed keep that in mind!

[whore-era]

1-800-GIRLS - part 2

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes her favorite phone sex hotline operator out on their first date! ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, interactions with men, dirty talking/praise, fingering (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames, slight mention of petplay, let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: back by popular demand, and to thank you all for 1k. i love u all from the bottom of my heart. thank u all so so so much. also there will be NO PART 3! s/o to my girl @clearheartgreyflowers for staying up w me til 3am writing smut LMAO ☁︎ word count: 5,124 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 1

thursday, 1:15am → ongoing call with sir steven (ft. lauderdale, FL)

sir steven (client): thank you, sugar. did good as always, pretty lady.

sugar: no problem, sir.

sir steven (client): have a good night, darlin'. good night.

the line clicks on the other end, and you finally let out a big stretch, able to relax as you close the hotline for the night. you made 13 calls tonight, which usually wouldn't be enough to help with bills, but much to your dismay, ellie had been sending you money nonstop.

it's been a couple of weeks since you first met her in the library, and since then, you've seen each other here and there, most of your communication being made through texts and calls, as you both have been extremely busy with final exams and work. barely getting any real time to spend together besides having lunch together or walking to class when the time allows it.

however, ever since you revealed to ellie your real name and gave her your personal phone number, she's been using it to her advantage — sending you money through applepay/paypal, paying for food to get delivered to your apartment when you tell her you haven't ate that day, or getting uber's or taxis to pick you up when she wasn't able to come get you herself.

she was very persistent in being your provider, insisting that with her income, she could support you full-time and buy you everything you needed and more.

but you didn't have it in you to just quit this hotline gig. you didn't want to feel like you had to rely on ellie, and the last thing you wanted was to burden her with your own issues.

thursday, 1:30am → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

you: ellie...?

ellie: hi baby.

you: why are you calling the hotline? you have my number, silly.

ellie: what? can't check in on my girl?

you couldn't help the flush in your cheeks. ellie never failed to make you blush. she always made a point to flirt, hard, and you both weren't even in a relationship, yet.

you: what can i do for my favorite client?

ellie: hm, how does going out with me on saturday night sound?

you: like...a date?

ellie: yeah, don't you think we're a bit overdue for one?

you: sure! what should i wear?

ellie: 's up to you. you make anything look beautiful.

you hated how easily she made the heat rise to your cheeks.

ellie: are you blushing?

you: ....no.

ellie: liar. just for that, you owe me a kiss on our date.

you: hm, we'll see.

ellie: guess we will.

-

saturday couldn't have arrived any faster, and by the time you knew it, it was 6:00 in the evening, almost time for your first date with ellie.

you couldn't make up your mind on what to wear, trying on different outfit combinations, determining which one you think ellie would like more.

groaning in frustration, you seemingly settled on a baby blue dress, with a light and warm cardigan. the weather was absolutely perfect for this type of outfit, not too hot with just the slightest breeze.

as you touched up your makeup, swiping on your favorite gloss, you couldn't seem to calm the nerves boiling in your belly. what was there to be nervous about? you were going on a date with one of the coolest and prettiest girls you have ever seen in your life.

overthinking every possible worst-case scenario that could happen tonight, you took some deep breaths, shaking off the images of you possibly falling on your face, snorting while you laugh, or accidentally passing gas in front of ellie. oh god, if that were to happen tonight, you didn't think you could ever face her again.

you would have to change jobs. and schools.

"god, jesus, whoever, please have my back tonight," you whisper to yourself, suddenly jumping at the small 'ping' coming from your phone.

unlocking your phone, you see it's a text from ellie:

ellie <3: I'm on my way up baby, u ready?

you: yes! i'm ready hehe

you take the time to lace your shoes at the front door, giving yourself a quick one-over in the mirror to see if you were presentable, at the least.

two soft knocks on the door resonated through your apartment, and you took a deep breath as you unlocked the latch, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

swinging the door open, you're greeted by the tall, emerald-eyed girl.

"hey, baby," she greets, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "you look gorgeous."

your eyes fell to the ground, cheeks flushing with crimson. get ahold of yourself. you're acting like a teenage girl with a puppy-love crush, you echoed in your mind.

"thanks, els. you look pretty cute too," you compliment shyly, looking down at her fit — a white shirt complimented with a red flannel and dark-washed jeans. of course, hair styled in her signature half-up ponytail and sporting her white and black converse sneakers.

"ready to go?"

"yeah, let's go ahead."

"cool, just parked over here in the parking lot."

taking hold of your hand, the two of you head out to the parking lot, and she takes the lead in guiding you to her car. her hands felt warm and clammy— and you wondered if ellie was feeling just as nervous as you were.

and she was.

ellie was freaking the fuck out. from the outside, you appeared calm and relaxed, which put her at unease. were you not excited to be going out with her? were you going to like what she planned for tonight? what if you absolutely hated the date she organized? it'd tear ellie's heart to pieces.

but ellie couldn't overthink, especially not right now. she couldn't let her emotions get the best of her, and she only had to think of the present — you.

ellie fished out her keys from her pocket, briefly letting go of your hand to unlock the car and open the passenger side door for you.

getting inside, you mumbled a quick 'thank you'. as ellie scurried to the driver's side of the car, you scanned your eyes around the interior of her car.

what the hell? was she driving a...dodge hellcat? you knew ellie drove, but you didn't know she drove such an expensive muscle car. how much money did she make being a dealer?

her car smelled just like her, fresh and musky, and she kept it fairly clean.

ellie piled in the driver's seat of her car, putting the key in the ignition and turned on the engine.

"soooo, where are we going?" you queried.

"that's a surprise," ellie smirks, and suddenly she places her hand behind the head of your seat, turning her neck to look at the rear windshield as she backed out of the parking spot.

you swallowed thickly, focused primarily on how hot she looked doing something as simple and elementary as reversing her car. the way her neck flexed, the way her arm tattoo looked by your face, and the way she was concentrated on moving the vehicle — suddenly turned the heat up in this confined space.

"you okay? you look a bit warm," ellie asks, interrupting your train of thought.

"huh? yeah, no, i-i'm okay," you smile meekly, "it's j-just a little warm in here."

"oh, sorry," her hands went to turn on the air conditioning, the gentle breeze of cool air providing relief, "there you go. better?"

you nod, "much better, thanks."

"wanna play some music?" she asks, holding her phone up.

"hmm, you can put whatever you want on. i wanna see what type of music you're into."

"okay," ellie says with a wide smile, "suit yourself."

approaching a stop light, ellie uses the window of opportunity to tap away on her phone, searching for her favorite song. the song 'the spins' by mac miller plays throughout the car at a mellow volume.

"great taste. i love this song," you chime.

"yeah? me too," ellie states, "i loved mac miller since like, forever."

eyes gravitating towards ellie, you couldn't help but get lost in a daze at the way she drives, the slight spread in her legs, one hand on the wheel, the stray strand of hair that falls in her face — she was dangerous.

and ellie could feel the burning gaze you were searing on the side of her face, "you okay there?"

"hmm?"

"you keep staring at me."

"oh— uh— i'm sorry. i didn't mean to—" you sputtered, ashamed that you'd been caught red-handed.

"it's fine, baby, no worries. just wanted to know if there was anything on your mind was all," ellie briefly tears her eyes away from the road to check on you.

you had to quickly think of an excuse, something to save you from this embarrassment — "just thinking of where we're going."

the girl chuckles, "well, we're already here."

the neon lights were the first thing that caught your attention, then the rapidly moving contraptions, and lastly the laughter from the crowds of people.

"we're at the carnival?!" you squealed, unable to contain your excitement.

"yea," ellie muttered sheepishly, "uh— i saw on your instagram how you shared the posts about wanting to go on your story, so i-"

you cut her off with a forceful hug, "oh my god! ellie! we have to get out now! let's go, let's go, let's go!!"

"alright, baby, let me put the car in park-" she began, but you were already halfway down the entrance.

-

"wow! ellie! that one was so fun! it was exhilarating!" you breathed out, fueled by the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins after riding the 'slingshot' rollercoaster.

ellie couldn't be any more amused, smiling down at you, "yeah? you liked that one, babe?"

"yes! i loved it!" you squealed, but as the adrenaline wavered, you began to feel that familiar rumble in your stomach, "it did give me an appetite, though."

"wanna get a little something to eat?" ellie's hand is securely interlaced with yours, guiding you towards the various food stands.

you nod, "mhm, i am starved."

"just tell me what you want, and i'll get it for you, m'kay?" she gives you a smile and squeezes your hand as your eyes scan the numerous items to choose from.

corndogs. cotton candy. kettle corn. pretzels. chilli cheese hot dogs. funnel cake.

"hmmm, i think i want some funnel cake," you suggest, "we can share it."

"sounds good to me," ellie shrugs and you both fall in line. she orders and pays for the sweet treat and the worker hands her the food, as you find a vacant picnic table to sit at.

digging into the crispy, creamy treat, you couldn't hold back the moan of delight that came from your mouth.

"oh my god! this is amazing!" you moan, whip cream getting all over your lips.

ellie was too busy hyper-fixating on the cream that sat on your lip, and before thinking about anything else, she swiped it off your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean.

"mmm, delicious," she commented, then consumed the dessert as if nothing had happened.

leaving you stunned, you gulped the cup of water she gave you, attempting to soothe the heat seeping down below.

"so, which ride do you wanna get on next?" ellie spooned more of the funnel cake in her mouth, looking up at you, awaiting your response.

"not sure, why don't you choose? i picked the last one after all," you clean your spoon off, getting every last bit of leftover ice cream.

"we can ride theeee..." ellie scours the carnival rides, "...the haunted hospital."

your heart fell to your stomach, you hated anything related to horror.

"oh no..ellie, i don't think i'll be able to ride that—"

"are you scared?" she taunts in a playful tone.

"yes. i'd be covering my eyes the entire time, el."

"good thing you have me with you, i'll fight anyone who gets too close to you. promise."

"fine."

when you both finish the funnel cake, you quickly discard it and ellie rushes you over to the line to the haunted attraction, but as the line goes by quicker than you anticipated, the fear began to set in deeper and deeper.

"ellie, i'm scared," you whisper as you both approach the front of the line, watching the people in front of you climb into the little mechanical car and disappear into the darkness.

"hey, i'm here, baby," she coos, rubbing your back, "besides, it's all fake, okay? 's not real."

and on cue, the attendant calls you both up, "next!"

walking slowly towards the black cart, you get on first and take a seat, with ellie following closely behind you.

"alright, hands up," the attendant commands as the handlebars latch down and lock onto your lap, "keep your hands and feet in the cart at all times. have fun."

as the cart begins to move forward and ascend into blackness, you curl into ellie's body and her arm instinctively wraps around your body, holding you tight.

this is exactly where ellie wanted you, up close and personal. she wanted an excuse to hold you all night, and after seeing the 'haunted hospital' sign, she knew this ride was the perfect place to do that.

your heart was pumping in and out of your chest, preparing for the worse to pop out and jump-scare you.

"ugh, i can't look," you stammer, covering your eyes. ellie takes hold of your wrists, gently taking them away from your face.

"hey, just focus on me, okay?" ellie whispers, her hot breath fanning in your face, "it's just me and you."

"o-okay."

and the fear that took habitat in your belly faded away, your mind zeroed in on ellie and how close she was to you. if you even breathed too hard, you probably would’ve accidentally kissed her.

but luckily for you, ellie was five steps ahead.

she reached her hand out to cup your cheek, resting it on the soft, warm skin of your face.

"can i kiss you?" ellie asked, her mouth taking over her brain, but she didn't mind it. she wanted to kiss you. she's been wanting to kiss you ever since she heard your voice that night she accidentally called you.

“please. please, kiss me.”

leaning in, ellie pressed her lips on yours, her other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. her lips were soft and inviting, and they tasted sweet — they were definitely a good distraction from the horror props popping out at different intervals. 

her lips leave subtle pecks along your lips, enamored by how your lips tasted, and how it left her wanting more. 

ellie pulls away, inciting a small whimper from you, “the ride’s about to end, babe.” 

“hmph, okay,” you pout and ellie pecks your lips again.

“we’ll have plenty of time to continue later,” she reassures you with a laugh. as the both of you emerge into the light, back to the entrance of the attraction, you notice your lipgloss smeared all over her lips, eliciting a small giggle from you.

“what’s so funny?” 

you point to her lips, and her eyes dart down to her face, using her sleeves to wipe off the pink gloss from her mouth as you both get off the ride. 

you smile sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you both stroll around the carnival, “sorry, that was my fault.”

ellie smiles and shakes her head, “don’t worry ‘bout it,” she says coolly, “hey, let’s go over there. there’s no line.” 

pointing to an attraction behind you, you turn around and follow her trail, your eyes settling on the ferris wheel.

hand in hand, you both get on the little capsule of the ferris wheel, the employee holding it sturdy so you and ellie would have time to climb in. 

they latched the door closed and you both begin the slow, upward descent. 

“wow, the view is beautiful,” you breathe out, astounded by how pretty the lights looked in the city as you towered over the area below. 

“yeah, the view certainly is beautiful, huh?” ellie murmured, but she wasn’t staring at the view. her eyes were on you, taking in how breathtaking you looked in this moment — eyes glimmering in amusement, perfect, plump lips slightly parted, and hair a bit messy from the breeze, but framing your face in all the right places. she took her phone out, snapping a quick picture, never wanting to forget this moment. 

she moved seats, before, sitting on the bench facing you, and now sitting right beside you. 

“uh, there’s something i have to tell you,” ellie began, her nerves shocking every cell in her body.

“yea? what is it?” you ask, turning to face her, “is everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah, i just—” ellie bit her lip nervously, “i just really like you. like, i think about you all the time. when i first heard your voice that night i dialed you, i just knew i had to talk to you again. there’s just something about you that always brings me back and— fuck, i never thought i’d find myself catching feelings so hard for a girl before.” 

your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was, but you didn’t care. ellie put her arm around your shoulder and held your hand with her free one, leaning in closer.

“what i’m trying to say is that— i really, really want to be with you. i want to be the one who you tell the weird stories about your clients to and i want to be the one to take care of you after a long day at class. i want to be the one who protects you and who you share your favorite meal with. i just— i really want you to be my girlfriend,” and before ellie continues any further, you cut her off with a kiss.

“if this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, the answer is yes, ellie williams,” you answer, briefly pulling away for air. 

ellie’s smile grows wider, “cool,” she quirks before connecting your lips again. 

- 

the sun was long gone and the moon had taken over the night sky. but your date with ellie was far from over. 

after spending an evening filled with thrill rides and greasy, fried snacks, you and ellie both decided to calm things down by taking a walk along the boardwalk, occasionally strolling up and down the pier.

“would you say this has been a good date so far?” ellie’s eyes flitter toward you, her arm slung over your shoulder as you stride down the various closed stores and restaurants of the boardwalk. it was empty, only one or two people passing by, but other than that it was only you two. 

“mmm, i’d give it a…six out of ten,” you tease, gaining a scoff from your new girlfriend. 

“a six? seriously?” she shakes her head, “damn, not the response i was hoping for.” 

“i’m just kidding, els,” you giggle, “this date has been amazing. i loved every bit of it. thank you.”

you lean over and press a small kiss on her cheek, watching how the vermilion scatters across her freckles.

“now that’s more like it.” ellie laughs, continuing the promenade forward, with no destination in mind.

your eyes settle on this small, old-fashioned photo booth tucked away in a corner of the boardwalk. the sign above it flashing ‘PHOTOS: 4 different poses’. it was the perfect idea to end the night and have a little souvenir to remember your first date.

you let go of her hand, dashing towards the photo booth, ellie confusedly following after you. you open your bag, searching for some change, and you insert four quarters into the small coin slot. 

“let's go inside,” you enthuse, excited to try out the photo booth.

ellie went inside first, taking a seat on the extremely small bench, barely leaving any space for you to sit beside her. the booth was such a tight enclosure, only allowing enough space for a maximum of two people. 

“i— uh— don’t know where to—” you stammer, but she interrupts you as she grabs your hips, sitting you down on her right thigh.

warmth rose to your face, feeling secure and sturdy sat upon her leg. ellie closed the black curtain, covering the entrance and blocking any light that would shine through. 

“okay, we have three minutes and four poses,” you say, turning your neck to look down at her, “what should our poses be?”

“i dunno, i’m sure we’ll look great doing any. we can jus’ do them as we go along,” ellie shrugged, and the photo booth began to count down from five.

sitting up straight in her lap and fixing your hair, you and ellie put on a smile, and the light flashes white, signaling the end of the first pose.

for the second pose, you turn your head and plant your lips on ellie’s cheek as ellie scrunches her nose up, and the flash lights up for a second time.

for the third pose, you loop your arm over ellie’s shoulder, and you both look each other in with adoring eyes and loving smiles — flash.

you both couldn’t even bother getting ready for the final pose, too lost in each other’s admiring gazes to think properly. you were focused on the jade green of ellie’s eyes, wishing you could jump in and swim in the pools of emerald. ellie was hooked on your face, and memorizing every detail like her life depended on it — tracing her eyes over your pouty lips. 

and as the countdown went to one, ellie smashed her lips onto yours, her arms tightening around your waist to pull you closer. this kiss was different from the ones from before — there was urgency, there was eagerness, there was a burning passion, one you’ve never experienced before. 

her tongue shoves into your mouth, tasting the mint you’ve chewed previously. immodest and perhaps, pornographic wet sounds from your mouths resonate throughout the small photobooth. one of her hands trail from your hips towards your tits, groping the soft, pillowy flesh underneath your baby blue dress, eliciting the faintest of whimpers — a sound ellie has been dying to hear again.

you couldn’t help the arousal building up in your core, compelling you to grind your crotch against the denim fabric of her jeans. 

“e-ellie, i— i’ve never—” you struggle to let out, pulling away from her lips, a trail of spit lingering on your bottom lip, and her lips plant sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck. 

“we can stop if you want, sweet girl,” she murmurs against your skin, and you quickly shake your head.

“n-no, don’t stop, p-please,” you gulp and with your approval, ellie’s other hand goes down to hike your dress up, bunching the fabric up around your waist. her hands push your legs apart, and she lifts one of your thighs up to rest on the wall of the photo booth. you were exposed, the only thing concealing your bare, pussy was the thin fabric of your panties.

she sat back against the corner of the booth, leaning against the wall and allowing you space to lean against her body as well. her hand cupped your panty-covered crotch, rubbing against it.

the sudden friction made you jolt, your breath picking up, “b-but what if— what if someone hears us? or—or sees us?”

“then you better keep it down, pup.”

ellie’s hand slips inside your panties, her index finger sliding between the warmth of your folds, drowning in the wet, hot juices leaking out from you, “fuck.”

you let out a pitiful whine, needing more pressure, craving satisfaction. the nights after that call with ellie, your own fingers no longer sufficed the needs your body demanded. you tried so hard to replicate the same feeling ellie gave you that late evening, but there was no avail as you realized the only person who can truly serve your body correctly was ellie. 

“p-please, more,” you begged, hoping she would show you mercy and give you what you wanted.

“please, what? huh? use your fuckin’ manners,” she snides in your ear, breath fanning against your neck. you immediately knew what she was inferring.

“please, daddy, please. i want more,” you bucked your hips up to her hands, and she happily obliged. two of ellie’s fingers made their way to your throbbing and swollen clit, applying pressure as her digits created circles. 

you couldn’t suppress the moan that emerged from your throat, clamping a hand shut over your mouth, careful not to alert any strangers nearby, knowing people would still be able to hear despite the thin, black curtain covering the photo booth.

“you look s’ fuckin’ pretty,” ellie whispers against your neck, and her hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at her as she smushes her lips against your swollen, red lips. 

a stream of melodious moans vibrated against ellie’s mouth, and she was drinking it in, savoring the sound of you against her lips. the way ellie’s tongue fucked your mouth felt ungodly, and almost immoral. someone who harbors the power to make you feel how you do is something close to the devil, as pleasure this wonderful was sinful.

her fingers disappear from your clit, leaving you feeling empty. 

“open.” ellie orders and you part your lips. she pushes her fingers in your mouth, and you suck them clean, your tongue lapping the salty juices like a puppy desperate for water on a hot day.

“such a good fuckin’ girl, shiiit,” ellie praises, slipping her fingers in your pussy, continuing the circles on your hardened clit.

“you know what good girls like you get? huh?” ellie’s fingers pick up speed, “they get to cum. you wanna cum for daddy, baby?”

unable to think of any response, you nod your head up and down. 

“use your words, pup.”

“yes, daddy. puppy wants to cum,” you whine out. that was enough for ellie to give you what you wanted. one hand rubbing circles your clit, her other hand pushes your panties to the side and inserts one finger in your leaking hole, gently sliding it in and out.

“ellie!” you cry out, astounded by the added pressure. her finger was long and filled you up almost, completely. 

“gotta stretch you out, baby. get you ready for my cock,” ellie smirks as she slowly adds in another finger, still maintaining her slow, neutral pace. 

your pussy clenches around her fingers, and you scrambled around to grab ahold of anything you can get your hands on. you were drunk on ellie, the way she talks to you — almost condescending — combined with how she had you writhing under her fingers. you were unequivocally hers. you were ellie’s.

she added a third finger to your clit, applying more pressure on your sensitive clit, and her fingers began to pump faster inside your pussy, coating it in a thick, creamy layer of your juices.

“god, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” ellie kisses the side of your neck, “look at you, making a mess all over my hands, like a filthy pup.”

all your mouth would utter was these weak, pathetic whimpers and moans, fucked out dumb and stupid. you don’t even think you could remember your name right now. 

the familiar feeling of your orgasm coming undone begins to rise, accompanied by a new pressure you feel in your abdomen — the urge to push. 

“daddy, think m’ gonna— p—pee,” you stammer, not wanting to embarrass yourself and closing your legs, “it feels like i have to—”

“baby, let it happen. promise it’s not piss or anything,” ellie reassured, figuring this was your first time squirting. “just let go, sweet girl.”

the sweet sounds of your wet pussy echoed throughout the confined spaces of the booth, just how ellie liked it. it was music to her ears. 

the feeling of your walls tightening around her fingers told her that you were just right on the edge, and she was going to give you that push to fall over and come undone all over her hands.

the pad of ellie’s fingers massaged figure eights on your pussy, almost tracing infinity signs on your clit. her fingers found rhythm and continued thrusting her index and middle fingers inside you, curling up to rub the flesh of your walls, hitting just the right spot and emitting an angelic moan from you. 

ellie was in heaven and she had this honey-sweet angel melting under her touch. 

you squirmed in her lap, your back instinctively arching, about to come apart in this small photo booth.

“daddy, i’m about to— can i? can i cum? pretty please?” you cried out, almost pleading, like you were begging for your life, but you felt like you were going to simply die if you didn’t finish right now. 

“yes, pretty baby, cum all over me,” ellie coaxes you through your orgasm, “make a fuckin’ mess, puppy.”

you came undone, falling apart right there. your pussy clamped around her fingers, a stream of milky-white cream trickling onto her hands. your body overcame your thoughts, and you pushed out — releasing a gush of watery, squirt all over the place. spurting out, imitating a fountain.

ellie pulled her hands out of you, and brought them to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean. still coming down from the high that was your orgasm, your breaths came out heavy and unlabored, a tear falling down out of the corner of your eye and streaming down your cheek. 

“you alright, babe?” ellie asked, fixing your panties and pulling your dress down.

“y-yea, i’m okay,” you stutter, standing up and exiting the photo booth, finding the boardwalk still deserted. legs still shaking, you trip over your own feet and lean on the walls of the booth for support. ellie took hold of your waist, ensuring you don’t fall.

“hey, look, our picture,” she points out, taking the strip out from the slot and showing the black and white photo to you. 

ellie smiles at the strip, “we look good, huh?”

you nod, still simmering down. ellie takes notice of your state and plants a kiss to your lips, rubbing your waist soothingly. 

“how ‘bout we get outta here and get some real food? sound good, baby?”

you nod, smiling, “sounds perfect.”

🫶🏼