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#touch starved dream fics
dnf-fic-recs · 1 year
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Vxndetta writes some incredible fic on ao3, if anyone wants sappy pining dnf in love go check out their stuff :)
ty for the rec!! here are some of their fics!
Meant just for you by Vxndetta
“I’ve– I’ve wanted to marry you since we were kids. I’ve wanted to marry you since you taught me how to tie my fucking shoelaces.” Dream lets it out all like it’s his dying words; nothing holding him back. “I think about you all the time.”
“Yeah?” George asks, just to hear it again.
“All the time."
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Or, a REALLY soft and sweet story of two boys talking about their future after a midnight drive.
Midnight calls, sunset views by Vxndetta
“You should never be nervous around me.” George’s voice, curled with an accent, is closer than ever before. “You– you know what this is right?” He asks, when their hair almost touches, faces a breath away.
Dream nods, because he thinks he does. He thinks it’s the start of a new life, a new time, in which distance is a mere memory and longing is long-forgotten. He brings his hands to the brunet’s waist, clutching the loose shirt like it’s the only thing tying him to this bed. Stars glow on the freckles of George’s cheeks—he’s that close.
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Or, in which George takes it upon himself to make a home in Dream's covers and Dream falls harder and harder in love.
I'm falling for your eyes by Vxndetta
“Dream?” George calls from his spot on the blond’s bed, casually scrolling on his phone.
Dream types away at his desk, not looking away from his screen. “Yeah?”
George stares back at him, eyebrows quirked like he’s got a question on the tip of his tongue. “Do you think if you kissed someone and cracked your neck, they could, like, hear it?”
Dream’s face goes a little red at the thought. “Uh, I don’t know.” The hair on the back of his neck rises.
“Well,” George sits up, tossing his phone to the side. “Can we try it?”
The blond whips around. ”What?”
——————————
Or, in which George has a lot of questions that weirdly involve kissing, but Dream supposes one experiment couldn't hurt. Or two. Or three thousand.
I'll keep stealing, breathing him by Vxndetta
An invisible force tugs him closer, closer, closer.
Dream seems to understand. Perhaps the desire is clear on his face. The blond lets out a shaky breath and his eyelids fall closed. George curls his fingers around Dream's chin and tilts his head down, leaning forward and pressing a barely-there kiss just below Dream's right eye. And as if returning the favour, he purposefully remains for longer than necessary.
As George moves away to kiss the spot right between his eyebrows, Dream opens his mouth and speaks.
“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”
——————————
Or, a REALLY soft and sweet story of two boys finding each other in the dark of a candlelit room.
It's the thought of you that slightly scares me by Vxndetta
Hooking his chin over his best friend's exposed shoulders while said best friend's hands roam his open torso is not clarifying anything. It might even be making it worse. The George-sized cave in his chest grows larger, even though he has him right here, in his arms, in his lungs.
“George?”
“I’m counting.”
“It's twenty four.” He needs his full attention. “Humans have twenty four ribs.”
George grumbles in response. “Spoiler.”
“Doesn’t this scare you?”
George falls silent.
Dream fears he just ruined everything.
——————————
Or, in which George arrives in Florida and Dream's skin itches to be felt against his. His mind tells him that's not normal. He gives in.
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arthurcantsleep · 2 years
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Hob has always been very tactile.
When he was a young man, he would hug his sisters and kiss his mother before leaving the house. He always pulled his mates in for a hug. He had a fond memory of grabbing the face of his commander and planting a firm kiss after surviving his first battle.
Over the years he grows up some, still affectionate to those close to him, maybe a little flirtatious to his friends, but he knows some sense of boundary. Especially as the decades go by he pulls in a little. He longs to reach out for his stranger at every meeting.
Eleanor was wonderful and more than happy to receive his affections. Robyn, sweet golden boy that he was, also adored hugs and obnoxious forehead kisses. He adored them until the very end. And what an end.
The next 80 years made Hob a cautious man. He became guarded, pulled away from any touch offered or taken. The next time he saw his stranger, it hadn't even occured to him to reach out for the comfort he desperately wanted.
And then, at the very end of the night, as he took his leave, his stranger paid for a room and bath.
Things began looking up. The next meeting, his stranger, wise and stern as always, told him to find a new line of work. And when Hob protected him, he seemed - almost demure in his appreciation. And Hob took a chance; asked his stranger to continue their centennial date. His stranger almost seemed heartbroken to decline.
The next century went well. He had found a gentlemen's literature club that was more senseless wild sex than actual discussion, and he met many a promising writer. It helped fill the need to touch. Something that became more dirty and scandalous to "proper society" as the years went on.
His stranger was a vision that century. Dressed to the nines, ruby shimmering at that beautiful throat. All Hob could think about was how desperately he had wanted. How badly he wanted to reach out and offer his affection and hope it was returned.
It was not.
He was an optimist though. Always able to move on. He only drank himself sick over it for a week. And maybe kept the gloves and hat left behind.
He had learned his lesson. He would offer his insight and not his love and hope for one of those sweet smiles again. When 1989 rolled around he was hopeful and ready to apologize for his missteps. His stranger would be stern as always and Hob would try not to show how absolutely smitten he was. But his stranger never showed.
He needed something to look forward to. Perhaps his stranger needed another century, but their pub was closing. So Hob did what any reasonable man would do to show his devotion, and he built one just for them.
Over the years the sting of rejection eased and Hob could get by on short relationships and casual sex. His Inn thrived and his new career path as a teacher did too. He felt fulfilled in teaching and the adoration he received from his students. He could almost pretend he didn't feel empty every time he awoke from a dreamless sleep alone.
And then.
His stranger was back.
His stranger apologized.
Hob was still careful. Did not offer touch, pulled away at the chance of brushed fingertips. It hurt. But it was enough to see his stranger again.
And his stranger kept coming back. Kept visiting him at the place he built just for them. They walked in the park together. They got coffee together. Sometimes, late at night when Hob felt desperate to see his stranger's smile, he would appear as if he could feel his longing. So Hob decides to risk it and offer his arm on walks, brush hands at the pub, maybe even risking holding hands.
And his Stranger accepts these acts of affection. Doesn't pull away. Tucking his had into the crook of Hob's arm, reaches out his fingers, pulls him closer when their hands intertwine.
And Hob is so, so in love.
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ohraicodoll · 2 years
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Sandman Masterlist
Sandman Series
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Fragments | AO3 (6 Works) | Not Complete Sandman Netflix/Sandman Comics Relationship: Dream of the Endless x Original Female Character/Reader 18+, Minors DNI, 1st POV
Works:
Figment | Story Tag   7 Chapters | Mature Content (18+ Minors DNI) |
AO3 | Complete Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
She had only been able to enter other's dreams two years ago, but she knew the rules. Don't interfere with the dream. Don't create anything in another's dream. Don't destroy anything in another's dream. But then she stupidly broke one of those rules and the Lord of Dreams does not take kindly to others messing with his domain
Touch Starved | One- Shot | Explicit Content (18+ Minors DNI) | AO3 | Complete Asking Morpheus to do anything productive is a losing game, especially when he's absolutely determined to be distracting. Possession | Story Tag 5 Chapters | Mature Content (18+ Minors DNI) | AO3 | Complete Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 In which Morpheus has a temper, jealousy is a problem, and past relationships never stay in the past. Interwoven | Story Tag  6 Chapters | Mature Content (18+ Minors DNI) | AO3 | Complete Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 Dream has a lot of people in in the long span of his life and a growing relationship means finally meeting them. Or in other terms, Dream and Dahlia's casual relationship is turning not so casual. The Complications of Family | Story Tag 6 Chapters | Mature Content | AO3 | Incomplete Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 The Endless 5+1. Slowly, one by one, she meets the family. Slowly, one by one, her complicated relationship with Dream tips towards the cliff's edge. A family meeting will be called.
Snippets/One-Shots:
Prompt: Settling an argument/taste Prompt: Four Letter Word Prompt: Taste/Dream’s Food Aversion (18+ Minors DNI) Prompt: Sick Orpheus Prompt: Dream with baby Orpheus Prompt: The Office Holiday Party ( 18+ Minors DNI) Prompt: New Year’s Eve
Non-Story Compliant Dream/OFC/Hob:
Interlude | One- Shot | Explicit Content (18+ Minors DNI) | AO3 "You love him, don’t you?” | One- Shot  First Kiss | One-Shot
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ineffable-kelpie · 1 year
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Rating: G
Chapters: 3/3
Wordcount: 9,330
Summary:
Chronically touch-starved but unwilling to admit it, Dream copes by disguising himself as a cat, visiting the Waking, and encouraging humans to pet him.
For thousands of years, it wasn’t a problem. And then there was Hob Gadling.
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bokkiesplace · 8 months
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I know my second highest love language is physical touch but this is ridiculous
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weirdfishy · 2 years
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who let me be a person that could just post random shit at midnight (me)
anyway touch starved dream, hob rescues dream from the fishbowl, it's soft and yearn-y and shit, fuck around and find out (and maybe just go read my other sandman fics, they're certainly better)
enjoy or whatever :)
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shire-baird · 2 years
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A comic representing today's progress of getting back on my meds:
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lazinesswrites · 2 years
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Fandom: The Sandman
Prompt: Day 27 Extra - Touch Starved (Whumptober)
Title: You say we're bound for better days
Summary: Dream thinks the world has changed an awful lot just since 1916, and it sure is much noisier than the glass cage he spent the last 105 years in. It’s gonna take a little while to adjust, even for him.
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Rumoured Nights | S.R
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This was written for the lovely and wonderful @foxy-eva milestone celebration. Congratulations love! 💕 I used the prompt - “someone has to unexpectedly share hotel room with their favourite coworker - who apparently really likes to cuddle.”
Set during 5.21 Exit Wounds - this ep just lends itself perfectly for a one bed fic.
Summary - a case in a small town in Alaska forces you and your favourite coworker into sharing a room and a bed. And according to Morgan, Spencer likes to cuddle.
Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Category - smut NSFW Minors DNI
Warnings - one bed trope, friends to lovers, sex dream, cuddly Spencer, swearing, making out, Spencer is touch starved, canon compliant death, meddling BAU team, interruptions, fingering, handjobs, penetrative, protected sex.
WC - 7.5k (don’t ask me how, she’s wordy)
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“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” 
The comment was probably meant inoffensively, an off the cuff remark to make his coworkers laugh but instead only caused the youngest member of the team to blush furiously. 
Spencer Reid shrunk down in the armchair, attempting to hide his embarrassment from the eyes of his fellow team members who now all looked upon him. 
As far as he was aware, Morgan had never told the team what happened the one and only time they’d shared a room during a case. The confused looks being sent his way went to further that, thank god. 
It happened a few years back when they’d been on a case in a town equally as small as Franklin, Alaska where they found themselves now. Like tonight, the BNB was small and they’d had to double up. 
And Morgan had woken in the morning to find Spencer’s arms wrapped around him like he was the genius’s oversized teddy bear, and one of Spencer’s legs draped across him. 
Morgan had pushed the younger man off of him and apparently Spencer hadn’t even so much as stirred. It wasn’t even until a while later Morgan had filled him in on what he’d subconsciously done in his sleep. 
It was perfectly innocent. There was no more to it other than the fact that Spencer was painfully touch starved. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on how long exactly it had been since he’d had another warm body to share his bed with, but if he did he would be able to recite how long it had been down to the minute. 
It was an involuntary reaction. His subconscious must have gravitated him towards the body in his bed and held them without thought to who it was. In his unconscious mind, it didn’t matter who it was, just that he needed the comfort of holding somebody. 
He was glad Morgan hadn’t woken him because he would have been a hundred times more embarrassed if he had to remember his inappropriate middle of the night cuddle. 
While he relented to his own mortification, the rest of the team silently paired off. Garcia was quick to place her hand on Morgan’s arm, nabbing him as her roomie before anyone else had the chance.
Hotch and Rossi exchanged a look of understanding and JJ smiled at Emily, the brunette nodding back at the blonde in response. 
Spencer felt his stomach coiling into thick knots as he let his eyes glance across the room and land on you who had also noticed the non-verbal agreements taking place. You met his gaze and offered him a meek half-smile.
“Guess you’re with me, Doc.” You got to your feet, grabbing your bag off the floor. 
You tried to hide the look of sheer delight from your eyes, tried to pretend that this wasn’t the best outcome to you. There had always been something about Spencer that you found magnetic, his brain intrigued you and he wasn’t at all hard on the eyes. 
Through five years of working together you had kept your little crush underwraps, your poker face was second to none. 
So you had to play it cool. You couldn’t show how utterly thrilled you were that the chips had fallen in your favour. 
One by one the rest of the team stood with their bags and collected their room keys from the kindly innkeeper and headed towards the staircase. 
You hung back for Spencer while he procured the key and with an awkward smile he followed you to the stairs.
“Good luck, mama.” Morgan smirked at you, clapping a hand down on your shoulder as you went to pass him by. “Pretty boy here is a secret cuddler.” 
“Morgan!” Spencer’s voice pitched, around five octaves higher than his usual cadence. 
“She’s gonna find out sooner or later, kid.” Morgan winked at the younger man, causing Spencer to turn beet red again. 
You shook your head with a soft laugh, averting your eyes away from Derek and towards the bottom step.
“Uh, thanks for the heads up. Goodnight.” You started up the stairs, hearing Spencer following behind you. 
You met him at the door to your room and stood aside so he could unlock it. Like the gentleman he was, he held it open for you to enter first. 
It was you who first noticed the initial problem. When Spencer sidled up next to you a moment later he saw it too. 
One bed. There was only one freaking bed. 
“I’ll sleep on the floor.” He was quick to speak, dumping his go-bag on the dresser. 
“You’ll put your back out.” You rolled your eyes. 
“I’m not Rossi.” He scoffed, indignantly. “I’ll be fine.” 
“Spencer, your knee still hasn’t properly healed. I cannot in good conscience let you sleep on the floor.” 
“I’m fine,” he waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve been walking without my cane for months.” 
“With a limp.” You clucked. “If it makes you uncomfortable to share a bed, let me sleep on the floor, please?” 
“It is statistically improbable that I will let you sleep on the floor, Y/N.” He folded his arms across his chest in defiance. 
“Fine,” you shrugged. “It’s one night, Spence. We can share a bed can’t we?” 
For the third time in ten minutes, Spencer’s cheeks burned bright red with his embarrassment. 
“I, uh, you see…” he swallowed. “Morgan wasn’t lying about the cuddling thing. We had to share a bed once on a case and apparently I cuddled up to him in my sleep.” 
A smile tugged at your lips and you felt a little guilty given how mortified he looked. But honestly you thought it was incredibly adorable and plenty endearing.
Spencer was known for having an aversion to touch, always citing how many germs could be passed in a single handshake and how it was actually safer to kiss. So the thought of him hugging anyone made you smile, even if it was when he was asleep. 
“I just so happen to not totally hate that idea.” You tried to encourage him, not wanting him to be embarrassed. 
“Y-you don’t?” He stuttered with a frown. 
“It’s cute.” You smiled.
“I think the word you’re looking for is pathetic.” He sighed. “Who knows it might have just been a one off anyway. If you’re lucky, I’ll leave you alone.” 
Lucky? Some luck that would be. 
You hid your expression from him, the one that desperately loved the idea of him snuggling up to you in his sleep. You pushed it down, simply offering him a nod. 
You just might be disappointed if he didn’t cuddle you.
***
The two of you took turns in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and changing into your respective pyjamas. Usually you slept nude, or at the very least just in your panties, but thankfully you kept a pair of shorts and a tank top in your go-bag in case you ever found yourself in this position.
You were already in bed scrolling on your phone when Spencer stepped out of the bathroom. He wore a set of dark green flannel pyjama pants and a matching long sleeved top, buttoned right up to his neck. You smiled in amusement at him as he padded across the room.
“Why does it not surprise me one little bit that Doctor Spencer Reid even sleeps in a button down?” You giggled a little as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I get cold easily.” He shrugged, his back now to you. “And we are in Alaska.” 
You didn’t reply, simply watched him as he slid his legs under the sheets, his mismatched socks still adorned on his feet, and laid his long, messy hair on the pillow. He kept his back to you and he reached out and switched off the lamp.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered, tucking one hand beneath his pillow. 
“Goodnight, Spence.” You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes.
***
It was still dark out when you stirred in your sleep, eyes fluttering slightly as you pulled the duvet further up to your chin. You would have fallen straight back to sleep if it hadn’t been for the sensation of something heavily draped over your ribcage. 
You were on your back, the ceiling staring back at you when you opened your eyes. It was then you realised there was something hard between your head and the pillow. 
You looked to your side and blinked against the darkness, trying to adjust your vision. A messy head of hair was next to you on your pillow, so close you could feel the soft breath coming from parted lips tickling your face.
It was then you pieced together that the thing that was under your head and across your torso were one in the same: Spencer’s arms. One was tucked beneath you, holding you close to him while the other cautiously rested over you, just below your breasts. 
His right leg was bent at the knee, slung over your bare thighs. His whole body was pressed up against your side and it was then you registered that something hard was digging into your left hip…
Oh, your eyes widened. Oh. 
You looked back at the ceiling, body going rigid in Spencer’s arms. It certainly did not take someone with a genius level IQ to figure out what it was. 
You tried to ignore it, willed yourself to go back to sleep and put it behind you. Maybe you were still asleep, perhaps this was just a really vivid dream. In the morning you would pretend it never happened, not wanting to embarrass the poor man. 
But then the situation somehow grew even more awkward, if that were possible. Spencer nuzzled closer to you in his sleep, his face buried against your neck. His breathing started to grow frantic and his hold on you tightened. 
And then he moaned. 
Your stomach tightened at the delicious sound, equally trying to commit it to memory and forget it at the same time. But then it happened again, the sound deeper this time. There was no denying it was a moan of pleasure. 
The third time he made the sound it was followed by the whimpered utterance of the word fuck. 
And when his hips started to gesticulate, grinding his hardness against your hip, you had to do something. 
“Spence?” You hissed, wriggling in his arms. “Spencer, wake up!” 
His eyes shot open suddenly and he huffed out a breath. His eyes were hooded with his sleep, his plump lips parted in confusion. 
For a few moments he just laid there, not registering his position or the bulge in his pyjama pants. He simply stared blankly at you. 
“What happened?” He groaned sleepily. “Another body?” 
“No….no. Not work.” You swallowed. “I uh, I don’t really know how to say this so I’m just gonna say it…I think you were having a sex dream.” 
His eyes got really wide, really fast. As your words registered with him he also realised he was holding you, snuggled tightly against you. And at the same moment he also realised the part of his anatomy that had woken up long before his brain had. 
And it was pressing right against your side. 
He scrambled away from you suddenly, drawing all of his limbs close to his torso and burying his face into the pillow. 
“Fuck,” he mumbled against the cushion. “Fuck, I am so unbelievably sorry. I’m going to…” 
He trailed off and quickly rolled to the edge of the bed but you were faster and you managed to grab his arm before he made it out. 
“Spence, it’s fine. These things happen. Let’s just go back to sleep and forget it ever happened.” You gently guided him back to the mattress and he flopped onto his back. 
“This is somehow more humiliating than when I cuddled Morgan. At least then I didn’t have a, uh…yeah.” He shook his head, not willing to finish that sentence. 
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Spencer. You were dreaming, and apparently it was a very good dream.” You couldn’t help but laugh, trying to cast light on the situation and make him feel less uncomfortable.
It had the opposite effect.
“I really don’t see how this is funny. I’m lonely ok? I’m so painfully lonely that the only kind of physical contact I can get with a woman is in my sleep.” He blurted out, his brain not quite awake enough to stop the words coming out of his mouth. 
The room fell silent. Spencer stared at the ceiling, you stared at the side of Spencer’s face. 
It wasn’t exactly a surprise to hear. Spencer never talked about dating or anything of the sort and although Morgan had speculated he just kept his exploits quiet, you were never so sure. 
Spencer was awkward and shy and had a hard time talking to anyone he didn’t know unless it was in statistics and facts. 
So it didn’t surprise you to find this out, but it did surprise you that Spencer was offering that information out to you. 
“I, uh…” you croaked. 
“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry that I had a sex dream about you but in my defence I can’t control my-”
“Hold up,” you cut him off, leaning up on your elbow so you could look at him properly. “Did you say you were dreaming about me?” 
His cheeks turned impossibly redder and he buried his face further into the pillow. 
“I assumed you knew that part. I thought you said…'' he wracked his brain.
No, you didn’t tell him he’d said your name. He’d added that part, assumed that you knew who he’d been dreaming about. Fuck. 
“You were dreaming about me.” You croaked, staring at what little of his face wasn’t covered by the pillow. 
“Y-yes.” He whispered. “As if the situation wasn’t already awkward enough. I can just go and sleep in the bathtub or something. The lobby even.” 
“Spence,” you gave his hair a gentle tug, trying to get him to look at you. 
Reluctantly he lifted his head and his eyes were wide and guilt ridden, his bottom lip cushioned between his teeth. 
“Yes?” 
“Do you…have you…” you couldn’t seem to finish that trail of thought. 
“Yes.” He clearly knew what you were trying to say. “It has happened before. More times than I care to admit right at this present moment.” 
“Oh.” You swallowed thickly. 
“So bathtub or lobby? How bad is this situation exactly? Does the bathroom put enough space between us or do I seriously need to leave the room entirely?” 
“My preference would be that you don’t go anywhere.” You confessed, causing Spencer to frown. “I mean, unless it’s closer to me.” 
“I…I’m not sure I understand.” 
“Sure you do.” You smiled, shuffling closer to him when he wouldn’t move. “The real thing will be so much better than even your wildest dreams, Spence.” 
An air of confidence washing over you, you finally got the chance to do something you’d been imagining for years and pressed your lips against his. 
He whimpered at the contact, momentarily dumbfounded by what was happening. But he soon managed to snap himself out of it and quickly took hold of your face and parted your lips with his tongue. 
As he deepened the kiss he rolled himself on top of you, already straining at the front of his flannel pants again. This time he was happy to roll his hips against you, really allowing you to feel him. 
You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the sound down into his lungs. He held your face with care but the kiss was all frantic tongues and the clashing of teeth. 
It was years worth of pent up sexual tension for which neither of you had ever realised the other felt too, all spilling forth against the others lips. 
You wrapped your arms around his waist, fingertips brushing beneath the hem of his pyjama shirt, he moaned into the kiss when your hands glided over his back, across his shoulder blades and back down his spine. 
His own hands wandered at the same time his tongue hungrily explored every crevice of your mouth. His touch was featherlight down your biceps and forearms before falling towards your torso and following your lead, under the hem of your shirt. 
His finger brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, up and down and up and down the skin, his fingertips making a mental note of how every dip and curve felt beneath them. 
His teeth grazed against your bottom lip before nibbling on it lightly and then pulling away. He sat back and looked down at you, your hands dislodging from under his shirt.
His pupils were blown out wide and his lips were puffy and red. His chest heaved his haggard breaths while he fought for air. 
You smiled up at him, reaching for the top button of his pyjama shirt. He let your deft fingers do their work, popping each button in turn and moving lower and lower down his abdomen. 
When the final button was undone he shucked the material off his shoulders and tossed it aside. His long curls hung around his face, framing him perfectly and you didn’t think anyone had ever looked as delicious as he did right now. 
His own hands brushed under your tank top again, palm flush against your stomach for a moment or two before he hooked his fingers in the fabric and started drawing it upwards. 
He let out a feral moan as he peeled the top away to reveal your bare breasts beneath. You helped him get it over your head and it soon joined Spencer’s shirt on the floor. 
He was open mouth staring at you, not even trying to hide it. You rolled your eyes with a soft chuckle, reaching for him and pulling him close.
“What’s the matter, Doc?” You spoke as you kissed him again. “Never seen a pair of tits before?” 
“None that magnificent, that's for certain.” He mumbled in reply. 
“Flattery will get you everywhere Doctor Reid.” Your hands moved to cup his clothed ass. 
“Fuck,” he hummed, rolling his hips against you. “Keep calling me Doctor Reid and it’ll be over before it begins.”
You laughed at the insinuation, wrapping your arms around him and expertly managing to flip you both over so his back was to the mattress and you were straddling his hips. 
His hair splayed out against the pillow and from this angle you were able to get a good look at what the good doctor was hiding in his pants. 
You involuntarily hissed at the sight and his eyes never left your chest. His hands were pawing at your hips, cloying at the fabric of your shorts. 
You raised your eyes to his face and waited for him to meet your gaze. When he did you made a show of grinding down against his lap, his mouth falling open as a moan erupted from his lungs. 
The friction caused by his pants rubbing against him was nice in a way but he would much rather a different kind of friction. 
He reached for your neck, pulling you closer so your bare chests crashed together and he kissed you deeply. 
You continued to grind against him, feeling his hard member between your legs and wishing for fewer clothes to be in the way. 
But before you could think about helping him undress further, Spencer’s hungry fingers were trailing up your thigh and grazing beneath the leg of your shorts. 
His hand wove higher, he could feel the heat emanating from your core. His fingertips lightly brushed against your pubic bone and you whined into his mouth. 
“Is that what you want?” He spoke against your lips, his other hand gripping the back of your neck tightly. 
“P-please…” you whimpered, nibbling on his lip and trying to move yourself closer to his waiting fingers.
Spencer chuckled almost darkly, brushing his fingers over the same spot. 
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” He whispered as your lips latched against his neck, sucking deep marks in his flesh. 
“About as long as I have. Please Spencer, please for the love of god!” 
The way you moaned so desperately for him made his head spin, no one had ever reacted like this for him. 
He inched his fingers nearer to where you wanted them, but as he was about to give you everything you’d been waiting for, an ear piercing scream reverberated in the room. 
You fell back as Spencer sat up, ears pricked and waiting in silence that now shrouded the room. Seconds passed that felt like hours until you both heard it again. 
“Help! Somebody please help!” 
“Is that…?” Spencer’s chest heaved in panic. 
“Penelope!” 
The two of you were suddenly out of bed and on your feet, scampering around to dress as quickly as possible. You threw a pair of jeans over your shorts, foregoing your tank top and tossing on a sweater instead before your coat. 
Spencer grabbed his pyjama shirt and fought with the buttons whilst stuffing his feet inside his converse. He grabbed his jacket and scarf on his way to the door, before quickly doubling back and picking up his revolver. 
You got your firearm as well, toeing on your boots as they two of you quickly dashed from the room. In the corridor you saw Morgan ahead of you, running towards the stairs. 
“You heard it too?” You asked as you ran to catch him. 
“You bet your ass I did.” Morgan hurried down the stairs with you in hot pursuit. “Pretty boy, wake the others. Y/N and I will check it out.” 
Spencer nodded though no one was looking at him. He fell back, his hand holding the gun dropping to his side as he made his way back to the other rooms.
His head was still spinning, dizzy with the lust from previous moments ago. Maybe this was a sign to him not to cross that line with his friend. The line was blurred, sure, but not yet so much as it couldn’t be rectified. 
All he could hope was that he hadn’t destroyed your friendship to the point of no return. 
You followed Morgan hurriedly towards the front door of the inn, guns pointed in front of you. You could still feel an electric current pulsing through your veins from Spencer’s touch, your lips still tingled from his kiss. 
You pushed it aside as a blast of frigid air hit you when Morgan opened the door and the two of you descended the front steps. 
“Help! Someone help!” Cried Penelope off in the distance. 
Morgan’s head whipped around almost three hundred and sixty degrees, eyes taking in the dark landscape to find what he was looking for. 
“Over there!” He barked, nodding his head towards two silhouettes in the trees. 
He quickened his pace, so did you. 
You found Garcia on her knees on the ground over the dead body of a man. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, her mouth hung open.
“I…and he…and then…”
“It’s ok baby girl,” Morgan crouched down next to her, stuffing his gun in the back of his jeans and helping her to her feet. 
You tucked your own gun away, leaning over the body and placing your index and middle finger to the side of his neck. 
No pulse. You didn’t think it needed to be spoken out loud. 
Garcia was sobbing, head buried against Morgan’s strong chest while he held her. The sound of crunching leaves alerted you to your company and you spun around to see the rest of the team running your way. 
Hotch and Rossi still wore their usual daytime attire but JJ and Emily wore sweats under large coats. Spencer looked an absolute picture in his pyjamas, coat and scarf hanging limply from his neck. 
He briefly made eye contact with you, but you broke it swiftly, glancing over at your boss who looked even more annoyed than usual. 
“Get her inside.” Hotch spoke to Morgan. “Someone call the sheriff.” 
Emily pulled her cell phone out and stepped away to make the call. 
“He knew we were staying here. This was a big risk.” Rossi huffed, glancing at the faces around him and lingering a little longer on Spencer. “Kid, why do you look so flustered?”
Spencer’s eyes widened and you saw him swallow thickly. You looked away, focused on the body on the floor. 
“I…” he squeaked, rolling his lip between his teeth. “I’m fine.” 
And if anyone noticed his voice was several octaves higher than usual, they kindly didn’t say anything. 
***
Over an hour later you all trudged back inside from the cold. The coroner had taken the body away and you would continue your investigation in the morning. 
Penelope was fraught, never having seen a dead body in real life let alone having to witness someone die. Morgan tried to keep her calm but even he couldn’t bring her back from this spiral.
When she stormed upstairs you all watched her go. Morgan looked over at you, his eyes asking you questions before his words did. 
“Can you…?” 
“Yeah.” You nodded. 
You moved past the others towards the stairs, you hadn’t so much as looked at Spencer in the last hour. He tried to make eye contact with you as you walked by but you kept your gaze forward.
Once you were up the stairs, Morgan sidled up to Spencer who was still watching you walk away. 
“You gonna tell me why you’ve been looking like a lost puppy for the last hour?” He cocked an eyebrow at the younger man. 
“What? I’m not! I’m…tired. I was sleeping when I heard Garcia.” Spencer averted his gaze.
“I hope that isn’t true.” Morgan scoffed. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer frowned looking back at him. 
“It means,” JJ stepped forward, an amused smile on her lips. “We’ve all spent the last five years trying to get you and Y/N to see what the rest of us can see.”
“And what’s that?” He turned to JJ. 
“Oh please.” Emily chuckled. “You think we don’t notice the tension between the two of you? Morgan’s been single handedly trying to get the two of you to bone for years.” 
Spencer’s cheeks instantly turned red and he felt his chest tighten with his embarrassment. 
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned his back on them and headed for the stairs.
“Go get her lover boy.” Morgan called after him and they all fell about laughing while Spencer shrunk away. 
He was at least glad you hadn’t been privy to that. But he didn’t relish the idea of seeing you right now, that would surely be one awkward encounter. 
***
You found Penelope pacing the length of her and Derek’s room, muttering under her breath frantically. 
You cautiously entered, not wanting to startle her. 
“I watched him die.” She spoke when she saw you. “I watched him take his last breath, Y/N.” 
“I know.” You nodded slowly, coming close to your friend and placing your hands on her shoulders. “I can’t imagine how scary that was for you.” 
“I just…” she whined a little. “When I was shot, all I could think was that if I die the last face I’m ever going to see is the man who killed me. I didn’t want that for him.” 
“You’re too good for this world, Penny.” You squeezed her shoulders. 
“I don’t know how I’m ever going to sleep again.” She pulled free of your hold and started pacing again. “Tell me something, anything. Something to distract me.” 
“Uh…” you scratched the back of your head. “You did everything you could to help him?” 
“No, not that. Not about this.” She quickened her pace, arms flailing about as she walked. 
“Uh…I’m pretty sure after tonight you can get Morgan to spoon you. All you need to do is tell him how scared you were.” You tried again. 
“As delicious as that sounds, I don’t think Kevin would be too pleased about that.” She was a blur of colour, like a rainbow flying through the sky. “Please Y/N, I need to think of something other than this horrible night.”
Goddamnit. 
You had the exact thing she was looking for, the perfect piece of information to take her mind off of this. 
Goddamnit, here goes nothing. 
“I almost slept with Spencer tonight.” You blurted out before you could change your mind. 
As expected she immediately stopped pacing, halting in her tracks and glaring wide eyed at you. Her mouth hung open like she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the right words.
You rolled your lip between your teeth, awkwardly waiting for her to say something. Slowly she stepped closer to you, eyebrows raising towards her hairline. 
“You…and boy wonder?” 
“Yes.” 
“It’s about time!” She slapped your bicep and you growled at the impact. “Wait…did you say almost?” 
“Yeah, we didn’t quite get that far.” You rubbed your arm from her assault.
“Why not?” She sounded incredulous. 
“Because…the screaming? The cries for help?” You huffed. 
“I…I ruined your first time with Reid?” She gasped. “No, no that won’t do. You are going to march back to your room and resume all previous activities. Right now.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” You shook your head. 
“Why?”
“It was a dumb idea, Pen. We’re friends, we work together.” You sighed deeply.
“Friends who are utterly infatuated with one another and have been for the past five years.” She clucked. 
“Guess my poker face isn’t as good as I thought it was.” 
“It is not. You make heart eyes at him every time he walks into a room. And he’s just as bad!” Garcia sounded exasperated. “Go to him. Finish what you started. For the love of all things pink and sparkly.” 
“Penny, I love you but it’s not gonna happen.” You shrugged. “I’m not ruining one of my closest friendships for one night of passion.” 
“Ok…I do not like thinking of boy genius and the word passion in the same sentence.” She pulled a face. “That’s like thinking of my brother…gross.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the way her body shuddered at the thought. You were pleased at least you had managed to get her to calm down. 
“You gonna be ok if I go?” You smiled at her. 
“Morgan will probably be up soon, I’m sure he can protect me.” She smiled back. “Just let him down gently ok? Reid is fragile.” 
You rolled your eyes, backing away to the door. 
“Goodnight, Penelope.” You blew her a kiss as you opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. 
Across the hall your own door loomed. Your chest tightened as you pushed forward, hoping Spencer may already be asleep so as to avoid an awkward conversation. 
But you knew he wouldn’t be and that was confirmed when you entered your room and found him sitting on the edge of the bed as if waiting for you. 
He looked up from where he’d been staring at his lap when he heard the door close. He pushed himself to his feet, his jaw set tightly. 
“I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” He blurted out suddenly. 
“Me either.” You agreed, stepping closer to him as you got out of your jacket. 
You unsheathed your firearm and laid it on the dresser next to Spencer’s. 
“But uh…” he frowned, fighting an internal battle with his own thoughts. “Friendships are overrated right? I have plenty of friends…”
“Way too many friends.” You smiled and nodded as he reached for you, large hands cupping your face. 
“I don’t want to be your friend.” He whispered and then proceeded to crash your lips together. 
You immediately parted your lips and his tongue slid inside of your mouth while he pulled you back to the bed. You both fell to the mattress, you on top of him while never breaking the kiss. 
He didn’t want to waste a second, didn’t want to risk being pulled away from you again and so his hands quickly found the hem of your sweater and helped you out of it. 
You got his buttons undone and he guided you with a hand on your back, down to the mattress. He slipped the garment off of his shoulders and rolled himself on top of you, kissing you again. 
His hands wandered down your torso to the button of your jeans. His lips trailed to your neck and brushed along your collarbones. 
They moved lower, down to your right breast where he placed kisses on the swell of it before moving on and taking your hard nipple in his mouth. 
You moaned and bucked your hips to meet his erection in his pyjama pants. He popped the button on your jeans and you helped him shimmy them down your legs. 
When his lips moved to your neglected breast, you reached out and blindly groped him through his pants. He grinded against your hand, moaning around your nipple. 
His large hand glided back across the plains of your stomach before inching lower. His fingertips brushed over the waistband of your panties before disappearing beneath the fabric. 
His index finger located your clit and pressed firmly against it, another moan erupting from your chest. He pulled back from your nipple and looked down at you with a sinful smirk. 
He started rubbing deft circles between your legs, his nimble finger a thing of magic. Wanting to return the favour, your own hand slipped inside of his pants and you grasped the base of his cock in your hand. 
He moaned deeply, his finger working more frantically as you started to stroke him. He met your gaze, his lips parted and soft moans escaping between them. 
“F-fuck.” He stuttered, moving his finger from your clit and running it through your folds, collecting your arousal on his digit. 
His middle finger joined his index and pressed against your entrance. You increased your movement on his shaft as he pushed them slowly inside of you. 
“Jesus Christ.” You muttered as you clenched around him. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 
“Why the fuck have we never done this before?” He whined, pushing his fingers as deeply inside of you as he possibly could.
You whimpered, bucking your hips against him as he moved in and out of you hurriedly and your strokes of his member were becoming frantic. 
His head was already leaking with pre-cum and you swiped your thumb through it causing an animalistic growl to leave Spencer’s mouth. 
It was too much and not enough all at once. You needed more, you needed everything. 
His fingers slammed into you roughly, the sounds of your slickness filling the room. You twisted your fist as it moved up and down his cock and he was snapping his hips back and forth, practically fucking your hand. 
“Fuck…I don’t suppose you have a condom?” You panted, desperate to feel more of him. 
“Uh, embarrassingly yes I do.” He nodded, his cheeks flushing a little. 
“Why is that embarrassing?” You slowed your pace and Spencer slowly removed his fingers from inside of you. 
“It seems…presumptuous? It wasn’t like…I didn’t think…it’s not like that I swear. It’s, uh, a long story.” He stood up, locating his wallet on the dresser and unsheathing the small golden foil packet from inside. 
“I believe you, Doc.” You smiled at him as you shimmed out of your panties. 
Spencer’s mouth fell open at the sight of you laid bare for him. His hands started to tremble as he moved them to the waistband of his flannel pants. 
He wouldn’t look at you as he pulled them over his hips, down his legs and kicked them off of his feet. 
When he did look back at you, you were staring right at his crotch. 
Your chest heaved with frantic breaths and you were rolling your lip between your teeth. 
“Good god, Reid.” You smirked. “I need you like yesterday.” 
He shuddered at the desperation in your voice and shakily ripped the condom wrapper over. He moved closer to the bed again, holding the base of his shaft in one hand and rolling the rubber over his tip with the other. 
You spread your legs for him, welcoming him between them and wrapping them around his waist. He leant on his hands either side of your head, the veins in his arms pulsing as he held his weight above you. 
He eyed your face, an almost delicate smile on his lips and you weren’t sure what it meant. 
“What is it?” You asked him, reaching up to tuck his long hair behind his ears. 
“You’re sure about this?” He asked softly. 
“Very. Aren’t you?” 
“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He breathed. “But I really don’t want things to change between us.”
“Spence,” you brushed your knuckles across his cheek. “Things have already changed between us. But not in a bad way.” 
Linking your hands at the base of his neck you drew him close for a kiss. He moaned into your lips and you felt him finally pressing between your legs. 
He held his shaft again and guided him where he needed to be, his blunt head penetrating you, stretching you to accommodate him. 
He slowly sank into you, a long and shaky breath leaving his lungs. Inch by inch he ebbed deeper, your walls fluttering against him as your body made room for him. 
When he bottomed out he stilled, glancing between your bodies at where he was now sheathed inside of you. The look on his face was pure bliss, as though nothing in the world had ever felt this good to him. 
He lowered himself onto his forearms as he drew his hips backwards painfully slowly. But then he surprised you by roughly thrusting back into you. 
After that there was no holding him back, like a man possessed he started fucking you hard and fast into the mattress. 
He pounded against your cervix with each thrust, kissing you with a newfound ferocity. The room was encompassed by the sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans which were being swallowed by the other's mouth. 
He already knew he wouldn’t last long, but that was ok. He didn’t plan on this being the only time he fucked you tonight. 
It was completely unexpected, out of the blue for the mild mannered doctor to be such a stallion. But it was electrifying, dizzying, the way in which he pounded into you like his life depended on it yet kissed with such gentle passion.
Resting all of his weight on one arm, his other hand manoeuvred between your sweat slicked bodies and his finger pressed deftly against your clit again. 
He started rubbing intricate circles on your bud, hips still snapping back and forth, stretching your walls around his length. 
He had a few beads of sweat trickling down his forehead which was scrunched up much like his nose was. 
His chest was flushed beet red and his left arm which was holding him up shook with the exertion. 
Your legs tightened around his waist, walls clenching around his cock. A combination of his rough thrusts and ministrations on your clit we’re bringing you rapidly spiralling towards your orgasm. 
You assumed by the look in his face that he was close too and by the way in which he started to lose his rhythm a little, his thrusts becoming a little frantic. 
You drew him in for another kiss. It was slightly messy, teeth clashing together and tongues fighting their way into the other's mouth. 
He moaned deeply against your lips, his finger now rubbing against you rampantly.
“I’m s-so close.” He mumbled. “Can’t…don’t think I can…”
“Me too.” You agreed as you felt the tightening in the pit of your stomach. “Don’t stop. So close, don’t stop!” 
And he didn’t. 
The pressure was building and between his cock burying deep inside of you and his finger never letting up on your clit, you teetered on the brink. 
And then as if a volcano erupted, you reached your peak, moaning into Spencer’s mouth as your body convulsed beneath him. 
He felt you clenching around him as you came, causing a pressure to shoot through his member. He thrust deep one last time and whimpered as he felt the come shooting from his head in ropes, filling the condom. 
His hips continued to buck lazily as if he simply couldn’t get enough of this feeling. His hand fell from its spot between your legs and he collapsed on top of you, panting and sweat slicked. 
You could feel his heavy breaths as his chest moved against yours, could feel his heart erratically beating at his rib cage. 
He nuzzled his face into your neck, his breath fanning across your skin. His hips were still rolling, grinding against you not ready to stop despite how worn out he was. 
You stroked his cheek and moved your head so you could kiss him sleepily. He mumbled something incoherent against your lips. 
Eventually his movements stilled briefly before he cautiously pulled out of you. He rolled onto his back and peeled the condom from his softening member, tying a knot in the end and tossing it lazily in the general direction of the trash can. 
He shuffled a little, his arm finding his way beneath your head how you’d found it when you woke up in the night. 
You curled into him, resting your head on his chest and listening to the still slightly erratic beating of his heart. 
“I never like being friends anyway.” He mumbled, making you giggle. 
“Me either.” You slung your arm around his waist. “Whatever this is, it’s so much better.” 
He placed a kiss of agreement in your hair and snuggled closer to you as his eyes fluttered closed. 
He decided, as he drifted off to sleep, being a secret sleep cuddler maybe wasn’t so bad after all. 
***
Down the hall, Morgan flopped on the armchair in his and Penelope’s room, eyeing the blonde as she stared at her laptop screen. 
“What a night huh?” He ran his hand over his head. 
“Yah huh.” She nodded, bouncing a little in the bed as she did so. 
“You seem oddly chipper. Y/N manage to take your mind off of things?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. 
“Something like that.” A small smirk played at the corner of her mouth.
Derek sat up straight, scrutinising her curiously. 
“Spill.”
“What?” Her eyes snapped away from the screen and over at Morgan. The guilt was written all over her face. 
“You think I don’t know when you’re hiding something, baby girl? Spill.” He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his thighs. 
Penelope huffed out a breath, chewing on her bottom lip. 
“Promise not to tell anyone?”
“I promise.” He frowned. 
“I think…I think Y/N  and Spencer might be…you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 
Morgan’s eyes widened as he stared at her. 
“No way.”
“Yes way. Apparently they almost and then, you know, everything happened. But I’m hoping that they picked up where they left off.” She was grinning from ear to ear and it must have been contagious because a smile broke out on Morgan’s face too. 
“My man.” He smiled brightly, a glint of something in his eyes. 
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“I too know when you’re hiding something Derek. Now you spill.” Garcia eyed him up, Morgan’s smile only grew. 
“I’m just happy is all,” he beamed in amusement. “And I’m really glad I made up that story about him cuddling up to me in his sleep now.” 
“You did what?” Garcia gasped, wide eyed. 
“It started as a prank, just to wind him up a bit, embarrass him. And I thought if I brought it up tonight it would put ideas in his subconscious. Guess it worked.” Derek looked exceedingly pleased with himself. 
“Derek Morgan, you are evil! Pure evil.” Penelope cackled, shaking her head at her chocolate thunder and his mischievous ways. 
“I was just giving him a nudge in the right direction, he needs all the help he can get.” He grinned happily, pushing himself up and sighing wistfully. 
“True, I love Reid and Y/N but they are so oblivious sometimes.” Garcia shut her laptop screen and laid back against the pillows. 
Her eyes closed and as such she didn’t see the playful look spread to his eyes as his smile somehow grew, encompassing his entire face. 
“And with any luck,” Morgan shuffled to the bed made up on the floor. “Pretty boy still had that condom I gave him.” 
4K notes · View notes
hana-no-seiiki · 1 month
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ALL YOURS.
tw/cw: yandere (more on the soft side tbh, barely appears), mentions of slavery. Power dynamics are whack. AFAB! Reader but GN! Pronouns. Some Aventio sprinkled in there.
HAPPY AVENTURINE DAY!!! ( thank you @rninies / @teabutmakeitazure / @harmonysanreads for informing me cause I wouldn’t have known otherwise)
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“Who is this?” His eyes ran through the sight of your body, a nice and controlled pace yet swift nonetheless. You looked like a dead leaf if he was to be completely honest. Covered in soot, malnourished, fragile. Like you’d disappear with the slightest breeze. Then, his eyes paused, a mark — a branding on the right side of your neck.
But still, he was confused. What was the point of showing yet another slave to him? Was it a thinly concealed, sadistic way of reminding him that he was still shackled? That his freedom was nothing more than a mirage? An illusion?
His benefactor — owner — slowly lifted the veil that covered your face. Beautiful. He’d seen many faces by now, his own among others. But strangely yours reminded him of his past. A wave of euphoric nostalgia almost overwhelmed him.
“Open your eyes, little one.” Jade said with a wicked smile on her face. “I told you I had quite the gift. I was actually hoping to keep them as a . . . collectible. But then I found quite an interesting fact.”
You looked at him with eyes far too similar to his own. Cold, dead, empty. He could think of many other terms to use for yours. One of them including home.
“It seems that the Avgin’s blood will not be running dry all too soon. They’re all yours.”
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“Quit staring at them like that.” Veritas tapped on his book. His face morphing from disturbed to mild annoyance every few seconds.
“Like what?”
“Like they’re an oasis deep within the desert. And you, a man starved for eons, waiting to drink them up until they’ve ran dry. Stop it. It’s disgusting.” Dr. Ratio gestured at you. You were practically a walking ‘owned by Aventurine’ signal at this point. From head to toe, covered in expensive objects. It was a statement to say the least, a warning to those that looked closer.
“You exaggerate. I am simply . . . deliberating.”
“Is it really this one?”
“Hm?”
“This reality.” Dr. Ratio placed the corner of his book on the blond’s forehead, “The reality where someone like you actually had the mental capacity to deliberate.”
“Oh don’t be too mean at this hour, Doctor.”
“Or what? You’d force me to find and get you from whatever hole you got yourself drunk in? Unfortunately that is something you’ve already burdened me with far too long ago.”
“I can take care of Mr. Aventurine, Doctor.” You appeared from behind the two. Your signature monotonous voice in tow.
Plaster immediately covered the man in question’s head. “Did anyone teach you manners? You don’t just silently approach someone—“
“I’m sorry.” You replied. Your face empty as a canvas an artist was yet to touch. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
For once, Kakavasha took his time, let his eyes wander and behold your form. One feature at a time.
“All mine.”
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a/n: this was rushed and written in one sitting, but i wanted to release something at least for our boi ! will be back to hsr fics once penacony’s entire story/lore is out. i miss aeon of dreams! reader so much…
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captain-joongz · 5 months
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fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023
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♤ in pursuit of wedded bliss by @fantasyescapes17
regency au, each members has his own story, but they're interconnected
choi seungcheol
◇ push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow
camboy!seungcheol, ex's best friend!seungcheol, enemies to lovers
♧ down bad (so so bad) by @lovelyhan
idol!seungcheol x pet sitter!reader
☆ always only you by @honeyhotteoks
brother's best friend!seungcheol, friends to lovers
♤ caught in a trap by @cheolism
brother's best friend to lovers au
kim mingyu
☆ a sheep in wolf's clothing by @rubyreduji
virgin!mingyu x experienced reader
♤ creep by @smileysuh
serial killer!ghost!mingyu, touch starved!mingyu, halloween fic
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ot8
◇ skz drabble by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy
a/b/o, cnc, primal play
♧ sharing = caring by @cbini
bf!chan sharing you
☆ camcorder by @tasteracha
bf!minho x reader x chan, a little pervy chan
♤ five for five by @bh-archive
chan x hyunjin x hongjoong x san x juyeon x reader
◇ some things are better left unknown by @roseykat
chan x felix x reader, threesome
lee minho
♧ dilf!minho by @cinhomi
dilf!minho x baby sitter!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy talk
bang chan
☆ bad idea by @hyunsvngs
step dad!chan, getting together, infidelity
hwang hyunjin
♤ dressing down by @jl-micasea-fics
best friends to lovers, mutual pining
lee felix
◇ best friend felix by @ddyskz
best friends to lovers, fluffy smut
♧ felix + thigh riding by @straykeedz
☆ cockwarming by @dreaming-medium
coworkers au, secretary!felix, office sex
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ot7
♤ shadows we trust by @remedyx
supernatural au, mystical creatures!bts, dark circus au
◇ masked miracles by @remedyx
hybrid!bts, detective!reader
♧ stay alive by @staytinyville
mythical creatures!bts, supernatural au
☆ trouvaille by @spookyserenades
hybrid!bts, witch!reader, supernatural au, some horror themes
♤ eternally theirs by @imnotlauriane
dragon!bts, soulmates au, knights au
◇ the lucky seven by @riphobisbraces
hybrid!bts, princess!human!reader
♤ emerald gem by @sweetlyskz
hybrid!bts, reader has a farm, strangers to lovers
♧ oh, little red by @jincherie
wolf!yoongi x reader x wolf!jimin, red riding hood au
min yoongi
☆ celestial ruin by @remedyx
fallen angel!yoongi x angel!reader, corruption arc
♤ fxck a fxckboy by @yoongifis
fuckboy!yoongi x smartass!reader
kim taehyung
◇ isn't that what brothers do? by @aris-ink
step brother!taehyung, forbidden romance, dub con
♧ black swan by @aris-ink
step dad!taehyung, manipulation, corruption, cheating
☆new flame by @gimmethatagustd
alpha!taehyung x omega!reader, heat sex
jeon jungkook
♤ family secrets by @aris-ink
step brother!jungkook, dry humping
◇ icarus by @aris-ink
step brother!jungkook, risky/sneaky sex
♧ close by @aft3rhrs
step brother!jungkook, forbidden romance
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choi soobin
☆ let's play a game by @anyamaris
soobin x reader x yeosang (ateez), friends to lovers, primal play
♤ closed doors by @last-words-ofashootingstar
soobin x reader x hongjoong, idol au, obsessed!soobin
◇ super shy! by @fairyofshampgyu
shy virgin baker!soobin x experienced reader
♧ i <3 nerds by @enha-cafe
nerdy!soobin secretly a sex god au
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multiple members
☆ drippin' by @ncteez
'00 line x reader, friends to lovers, birthday orgy
♤ cookie jar by @neopuppy
step brothers!jeno and jaemin x reader, stuck in a dryer au
♧ sos by @neopuppy
a/b/o, sex pollen au, pollen induced heat/rut
lee jeno
☆ shameless by @neopuppy
step son!jeno x step mom!reader, infidelity, very dub con
♤ hand kink by @jaylaxies
roommates au, hand kink
lee mark
◇ i can help by @recklessmark
step dad!mark, corruption, manipulation, infidelity
ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 | pt. 2
862 notes · View notes
nameless-ken · 3 months
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Fic Recs Masterlist - Billy Hargrove
I've put together a list of Billy fics/imagines so they're easy to find! I'm so obsessed with all of these :)
Please let me know if I've tagged your story and want it removed.
Thank you to all the writers for providing such amazing words <3
FIC RECS PART 2
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Imagines
Piercings and Polaroids - @thephantomofthe-internet
Club Heaven - @billys-pretty-babe
Life Guard - @writethrough
loving you - @bookshelf-dust
billy vs. the grinch - @bookshelf-dust
you wanna talk about it? - @bookshelf-dust
kids show up, and i get no kisses - @bookshelf-dust
all because of a fucking skating rink - @bookshelf-dust
god, this place is such a shit hole - @bookshelf-dust
Your Part Of My Family - @chloe-skywalker
Halloween Party - @chloe-skywalker
Heather - @thelovelylolly
i know a place - @billysbabyy *smut
At Peace - @billys-pretty-babe
Gone - @billys-pretty-babe
Better Off As Friends - @billys-pretty-babe
Happy Birthday, Baby - @billys-pretty-babe
Not freaks - @ashwhowrites
When The World Seems So Cruel - @queers-gambit *smut
Just To Ourselves - @billyhargrove-s
and I didn't like the ending - @billysbabyy
What’s ok for me - @pastel-pillows
SUPERNOVA - @billlydear
GOT A LIGHT? - @billlydear
MEDIC - @billlydear
It's Always Been You - @thegreencanary
Love is Too Simple a Word - @fics-and-quotes-andthelike
A Place to Land - @writethrough
Found You - @writethrough
starved - @starrywriting
forget - @capricornuh
I Know Better - @writethrough
As it Should Be - @waiting4inspiration
Shining Through - @sweet-villain
All Mine - @duramater97
Billy Hargrove x Reader !Panic Attack!SA! - @kennarose1108
Healing Touch - @waiting4inspiration
A Treat - @sweet-villain
You and Me - @tastefulstars
Night's like These - @billyhargrove-s
Up and Out - @queers-gambit Part 2
Billy's Girl - @thewritingofamadwoman
The Only Destination - @writethrough
Lost Things, Found Beginnings - @writethrough
One Last Goodbye - @thelovelylolly
Bodyguard - @ashwhowrites
dream - @alloftheimagines
i need my girl - @alloftheimagines
Give - @steph-speaks
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jaysgirlx · 3 months
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Hey sweetie, I’m feeling like I need a Jason fic where reader doesn’t like to be touched but he makes her feel safe enough that she gets used to him. Would that be something you’d write? I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night 😘😘
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jason wasn't exactly a touchy man himself, he'd set a lot of boundaries as he grew older but he felt different when that came to you. he had the urge to want to hold you constantly but he quickly learned you weren't fond of that. there were too many mental scars that had yet to heal.
the two of you had been sitting side by side on his couch and he slyly tried to put his arm around you. you flinched and moved away quickly, and then came the word vomit.
"i'm sorry! it's really not cause of you- It's hard for me to- i just cant- it's okay if you don't want to hang out again after this, i just- i'm sorry!"
you were panting and trying to explain yourself because this wasn't his fault, this was a boundary you probably should've said earlier but you didn't. you were scared of losing jason too quickly because of your own issues but you were an idiot for thinking he'd leave like that. he was much better than that and he showed you exactly how.
when jason first realized that you weren't yet comfortable with him touching you he tried his best to make your dates and hangouts still romantic. instead of cuddling, he'd put pillows in between the two of you and you'd lay on them almost as if you were on him.
or when you two went out for walks he learned to wear long-sleeved shirts so you could hold onto his sleeve rather than his hand. it did take time to get used to but jason didn't see it as a burden he saw it as another way for him to show his love for you.
he found you the cutest when he'd be kissing you and you didn't know where to put your hands so you'd panic and grab onto his clothes. he knew you wanted to touch him but he wanted you to feel safe enough to make that first move and you eventually did.
"i swear it's not you or anything i just not comfortable being touched yet…i've had things happen to me and i just need time to feel a bit safer"
jason understood how you felt and respected it. he'd wait years if he had to, as long as you were with him, he didn't need much more. though your comfortability came much sooner than he thought.
it started off small like when you began to slyly slip your fingers into his and hold his hand. he won't deny that he actually blushed a little especially when you kissed him on the cheek goodnight. he knew he was probably touch-starved but he didn't realize how much he was missing without your touch.
you even started cuddling him during your movie nights and laying your body on his. and it was then that jason knew you felt comfortable with him. you finally felt safe.
things moved on a bit fast after that, your very gentle make-out sessions with jason became rough and needy. you'd dig your nails into his back while deepening each kiss more. your hands are roaming his back, trying to figure out what feels good, or what feels right but jason doesn't care. that fact that you're touching him is all that matters. that fact that you're comfortable is all that matters.
did jason dream of touching you constantly? absolutely! but would he have waited centuries to do so? only for you.
jason was in love with who you were and being able to touch you had nothing to do with that. this man fell in love with your personality and the love you were willing to give him and that was all he wanted.
"m'sorry for making you wait so long jaybird" you whispered while jason lips were busy kissing and biting your neck. he left a train of hickeys, hoping you wouldn't be too mad once you'd seen them, since you were quite focused on your current conversation "i know i'm a lot of work"
"good thing i'm a hard worker sweetheart," he said, while placing a hand on his hip and gently caressing your waist with his thumb. jason had started doing this,whenever he could tell you were overthinking or maybe overwhelmed. he was good with words but he knew how to soothe you "as long as you comfortable baby, then that's all i need"
you were all jason todd needed, he’d never admit it but he could love you from afar and still be happy because you'd be his and to jason that was all that was he really wanted.
for you to happy and safe with him.
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ohraicodoll · 2 years
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Touch Starved
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Pairing: Morpheus x fem!reader/Original Female Character Rating: Explicit  Chapters: 1/1, Complete Word Count: 3987 Tags: 18+, Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, These two love tension, and games, and Dream is full of himself as usual, OFC is named once but could be ignored Summary: Asking Morpheus to do anything productive is a losing game, especially when he's absolutely determined to be distracting. 2nd in the Fragments Series  | AO3 Writing Masterlist Previous in Series: Figment Next in Series: Possession
{This story takes place after Figment, but can be read standalone. Dahlia is named once, but besides that early in the series she’s mostly a reader character} In the few weeks since whatever this was between the Lord of Dreams and I, I’ve come to realize something abundantly clear about him. The man was absolutely touch starved. Which made me wonder how he had been so patient during our initial teasing, our game as I liked to call it, when he damn near drove me insane with little touches and heated words and took his damn sweet time. But now we were past that, passed the early initial stage of awkwardness and hesitancy, learning how each other operates. We were safely in the “comfortable” zone as my friends used to call it, where he had no problem reaching out and grabbing me, pulling me close, and kissing me whenever I happened to be near and when he pleased. Which was almost all the time. I hadn’t expected that from the normally stoic, rigid man, but it made sense. He was trapped for 105 years in a glass prison and I doubt many people before or after that felt comfortable enough to lay a finger on him. That in itself was its own prison, self-enforced. So now that I had permission and he was no longer restricted, he took pleasure in being touched in the smallest of ways. Fingers clasped in his as we walked and nails lighting scraping through his hair when we were in private. He was very much like a cat. Aloof but demanding when he wished to be. And insistent. Like tonight when he was supposed to be teaching me how to properly control my dream walking ability. As much as he found amusement when I got tired of waiting for him to take me to his palace and tried to Russian roulette my way through dozens of doors, teleporting all over the damn Dreaming, I had to remind him again that I wasn’t going to be asleep for half the day. So he’d acquiesced to teach me so I could get there on my own quickly. It wasn’t going well for a multitude of reasons. One, this wasn’t something he usually taught as Dream Walkers were supposedly rare and not allowed. He was the Dreaming itself, it was natural for him. How do you teach something that came as second nature as breathing? And so, I was struggling. Two, he was thoroughly distracting. Morpheus stood behind me, chest pressed against my back as we stood in the small meadow not far off from the bridge leading to the palace. I’d made it closer this time but no dice and was half tempted to just walk the rest of the way there. His knuckles trailed up and down the length of my arms, sending sparks of electricity over the skin and making my breath come out in soft rasps. He pressed his face into my hair and whispered, the sound ghosting over my ear, “Concentrate on my chambers, where you know it to be, and let your will guide you there. The doors are merely a representation of your ability to travel through the Dreaming. You do not need them.” A shiver slid up my spine and I knew he was smirking. “You want me to imagine your chambers? You mean the room you like to change every single time, making it impossible for me to picture it?” I grumbled, determined to keep from showing his effect on me. He chuckled and his hands moved to my waist, long fingers palming the curves there, “The chamber can be whatever you wish it to be, the purpose remains unchanged.” Gently, Dream laid a soft, lingering kiss on my neck, “ Concentrate.” I turned my head to look at him, the way the twin stars in his eyes flashed with amusement and want, pale skin so brilliant under the shock of messy black hair. He was close enough that if I leaned forward I could capture those pouty lips of his in a kiss, could ignore practice and just force him to take us both there in an instant. But I was annoyed and deep down, I knew he would be all too happy to do just that. He liked having that control and me being reliant on him. “You,” I growled, “are not helping.”
With that smirk of his, he definitely knew that. Morpheus leaned his head the tiniest bit closer, nose grazing mine and heated breath on my lips, “You truly wish for my help?” I raise a brow, “Yes, your highness, sometime tonight please.” The me from a month or so ago would have had a heart attack at the easy sarcasm with the Dream King, but after calling him an ass to his face, he didn’t seem as phased. I think he liked the fact that I didn’t fawn over him all the time, that even when I feared him I didn’t cow and stood up to him. That wicked gleam entered his starry eyes and he reached up, grabbing my chin gently in his hand and making me face forward again, “As you wish.” Because that didn’t sound ominous at all. I took a deep breath and sighed, trying to picture the soft black sheets of his bed that were a permanent fixture no matter how the room shifted and changed. Sometimes the room was a void, stars dotting the abyss and surrounding the bed. Hastily thrown together but serving its purpose. Sometimes he managed to craft it into something more whole, like a modern room with softly lit lamps, a dresser, and plants in the corners of the room. It depended on his mood, but it was never the same. And as I finally began to concentrate and tried to shift the space around us, Dream’s hands shifted from their spot on my waist. One slowly began to snake under the light sleep shirt I still wore while the other moved the thin strap of it aside, moving it out the way as he began to kiss the spot on my shoulder. Before I could reprimand him about distracting me, his voice hummed against my skin, “We are going to play a game.” Oh lord. The hand under my shirt continued its trail upwards, hand cool against my heated skin. I let out a small gasp as his fingers grazed the underside of my breasts and could feel him smile against my neck, “You are going to take us to my quarters or else I am going to take you right here.” Desire, hot and thrilling, shot all the way through me, intensified by him alternating between leaving slow kisses along the dip where my shoulder met my neck and lightly biting the flesh there. His words hit home, the way his touches had turned from casual teasing to want and purpose. “You-” I licked my lips, voice raspier than I would have liked, “The others could see us.” The words were meant to be hissed at him but my words wouldn’t follow my command, breathy and so close to a moan. Hand on my stomach, the King of Dreams pressed me hard into the front of his body, leaving no space and letting me feel exactly how little he cared as the length of him pressed firmly against my backside. “I am the monarch of this realm. I can do what I please, where I please,” he growled admonishingly in my ear and I bit my lip to keep in a moan, “If you are afraid of them seeing us, I suggest you concentrate on getting us somewhere private.” My heart raced, the warring arousal I felt at his touch, his words, versus the absolute anxiety that at any moment Matthew or Merv or anyone else in the Dreaming would just happen to be strolling through the Dreaming and I would never be able to look them in the eye again. And god, they would never shut their mouths after either.
Because Dream’s version of helping was to throw me into the water and try not to drown. I tried to shut my eyes and imagine his room the last time I had seen it, the action a double edged sword as it only intensified the feeling of his against me. The billowing black curtains, the high arched ceiling, the four poster bed. The softness of that bed against my back- Dream’s hand moved up and palmed my breast, squeezing and massaging until a moan trickled out of my mouth. For fucks sake. “Focus, little dreamer,” he whispered, taking the flesh of my neck into his mouth, sucking and nipping, and soothing it afterwards with his tongue. He was going to leave his mark there, another to add to the treasure trove that littered my body. I gritted my teeth, my body absolutely vibrating with pleasure already. I was going to kill him later. The room. Yes, concentrate on the room. Wide open windows looking out from the upper-most of the palace, cool tiled floors, a couple of monstera plants near the entrance soaking in the light he deemed to fill the room- Morpheus’ other hand drifted downward tantalizingly, a finger crooking into the waistband of my thin shorts and tracing the sensitive skin there. My breath hitched at the soft touch there, the promise of where it was going, as his other fingers tweaked the hard bud of my nipple. I swallowed my moan, choked on it, eyes opening to look around us in case we had drawn attention. “Morpheus,” I couldn’t do this, couldn’t concentrate, not when his tongue and his fingers were driving me crazy already. He was Endless and that meant he had all the patience in the world to absolutely tease the hell out of me.
I could swear there were voices in the distance, Autumn leaves crunching under feet, and my heart kicked up to an all time high. The dream lord smirked into my neck and the hand on my waistband went lower and lower into my shorts, knuckles grazing against my underwear and the overly sensitive skin beneath. A moan did leave me then and I jerked my hips, wanting so desperately to be in his room and with those gorgeous fingers of his inside of me. Voice grew closer and I tilted my head towards his, nose grazing along the slope of his own. He peered at me with those black pits for eyes, half hidden under a sweep of dark lashes, lips turned up in want and amusement. The stars in his eyes were blazing, deep red like the fire that rippled at the edges of his cloak. And then I was crushing my lips to his, letting him swallow down the deep aching moan that ripped from my throat as his fingers stroked the outside of my underwear with more purpose. His tongue delved into my mouth, exploring, tasting and my own met his. I would never be able to get enough of him. He tasted of rain after a drought and the chill of an early morning, of the night sky against hot skin and delicious ripe peaches bursting with juice on your tongue. He was real and touching me but also so much more, more than I could comprehend but all I cared about was that he was here and wanted to be here. And then it was quiet and the air was still. I paused and pulled back slowly, forehead against his, and knew we were somewhere else. Tiled floors, wide open windows, four poster bed. His lips tilted up in haughty satisfaction and I knew only the slightest tinge of pride was towards me and the rest was utterly self-congratulating. But I absolutely did not care. “Oh thank fuck,” I groaned out loud in relief before smashing my lips back to his, turning fully in his arms and wrapping my own around his neck as I let my self-control go utterly and completely. I swallowed his chuckle, fingers finding their natural spot in his hair, and devoured him. Hands pulled and tugged, his night colored, flame embroidered cloak falling to the ground, my sleeping shirt raised and tossed across the room, his dumb, stupidly tight black jeans kicked to the ground. The dream lord could have blinked and had us both naked but I wanted to do it myself, take pleasure in disrobing him and revealing each inch of pale skin.
He pushed me back and I fell onto those deliciously soft black sheets that I loved, top bare but underwear still on. Dream was gloriously naked and his stare burned as he took me in, sprawled on his bed. I chewed my lower lip, far past blushing but unable to help myself and squirm under his gaze. With a hand wrapped around my ankle, he dragged me across the bed sheets until I was closer to the edge and leaned forward over me, lips meeting my inner thigh and trailing kisses along the skin there.
“It seems all you needed was the proper incentive, little dreamer,” Morpheus spoke into my skin, smirking cat-like and full of himself. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching the muscles on his back shift and ripple under that alabaster skin of his. In the darkness of the room, he almost seemed to glow, a light against the pressing void. His eyes flickered up to catch mine, shadowed under his brow and so intense. “I’m never asking for your help again,” I glared half-heartedly. And then slowly, agonizingly so, his fingers hooked into the band of my underwear and pulled them down and off completely, “Is that so?” The vision of this being, greater than a god, hovering between my thighs was almost enough to make me come immediately. But then he bent and his tongue licked my wet folds and I was done for. I fell back with a gasp, the intensity of his touch immediate and overwhelming. Intoxicating.
His fingers dug into my outer thighs, holding me still, while he devoured my sex. Tongue teasing in long strokes, he moved it in and out of me, dipping inside in a mimicry of what I wanted him to do and lapping at my clit. He was patient, taking his time and drawing out each stroke to keep me suspended in pleasure. I could feel the waves of an orgasm rising slowly, a drop at a time with each focused lick. And then he moved away, kissing my inner thigh, and those elegant fingers of his replaced his tongue. One at first, teasing at my entrance, before sliding in easily with my arousal. I gasped and arched, feeling him curl it just right inside of me as his tongue returned. The combination was incredible, him slowly pumping in and out but still leaving me wanting more and more. Another finger entered me and my pleasure rocketed while I squirmed. One hand clenching the sheets tightly in a fist, I keened and let out a simpering mewl, the other hand gripping the inky black strands of his hair desperately. He was utterly destroying me, fingers filling and stretching me while his mouth worked my clit. Blinking down the line of my body, my eyes met his and I was cresting over my edge as he sucked hard, increasing his pace. My thighs trembled and I threw my head back, a moan leaving me. I clenched around him, feeling my release come hard and fast. He slowed, carrying me through my orgasm until I was breathing hard and a twitching mess. Gently pulling his fingers from me, I met his gaze as he sucked the juices off the digits and just about came again. Morpheus rose fluidly and easily managed to move me further up the bed, my body limp in his caring hands. The bed dipped and he was there, joining me and propped up on an elbow next to me, watching as the last remnants of my orgasm drifted from me. With a gentle kiss to my shoulder, the Lord of Dreams smiled and moved a strand of hair off my face. I watched him in return, still amazed at the way even the smallest of smiles seemed to lighten up his features and how I only ever saw them in private. At most he’d smirk but the full smiles were for the darkness, for this room and my eyes only. My hand rose and I traced the line of his lips, his jaw, his high cheekbones, marveling that this creature was in bed with me and gave me so much of his attention. I’m not sure I would ever get used to it or that I even wanted to, loving the way it felt too much. Heart thudding then stuttering at that thought, I shoved it aside, not wanting to dive too much deeper into that feeling and the eventual existential crisis it would lead to. “I guess you’re not that bad of a teacher,” I grumbled, hand lowering to rest on his naked chest. “My lady compliments me even as it seems to pain her,” Dream deadpanned, brow raised. I raised myself up and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips and enjoying the lazy drag of his tongue against mine. And then I shoved his chest and threw my leg over his hip as he fell back, ignoring the tingles that shot through me at moving so suddenly. If he wanted to stop me, he could have done so easily, but he let me switch our positions with an interested look in his eyes. He was utterly divine, sprawled out underneath me as I straddled him. His erection pressed hard along my ass, pulsing with unrelieved tension, but I didn’t move yet to get it where we both wanted it, “You know, I’d rather not be fucked in public any time I want to get where I want in the Dreaming. It would make it very awkward if I wanted to get to the library.” Not to mention I feel like Lucienne would murder us if we tried it there. Morpheus smirked. At that, I wrapped my hand around him, taking in the way his breath hitched at the touch, and stroked long and extra slow. Raising myself up slightly, guided him to my core. I was still utterly soaked from his previous ministrations, folds so sensitive in the best way and his hands gripped my hips to brace me. We both groaned as I fully sank onto him, an inch at a time. He was large and even as loosened up as I was, there was a tightness as he filled me up completely. But god if it wasn’t the best feeling in the world. Tongue against my teeth, I relaxed and smiled down at the Endless, “How about we try a different method next time you want to teach me, yeah?” Fingers clenching into my skin, I grinned even more as I stayed still despite his urgings. His brow furrowed as he realized the game had shifted and not in his favor. Biting on the inside of my cheek, I moved the tiniest bit, adjusting my position on him. I bit down even harder at the way he twitched inside of me and his hips jerked. But I stayed still, letting my own fingers roam up and down his chest and his abs. It was still fascinating how the man was utterly sculpted from marble, body thin but lean. I traced patterns into the dip of his hip, feeling him tense underneath me. The stars in his eyes flashed burgundy, clearly not amused at the way I had switched things on him and I let myself clench around him in answer. “Dahlia,” he growled, teeth clenched as he attempted to swallow his moan. “Morpheus,” I answered sweetly, trying not to laugh at how very frustrated he must have been to spit out my name and drop his nickname for me. I leaned forward, swallowing my own moan at the feeling of him so full inside of me, and propped myself up on his chest with my elbows. I was the absolute image of innocence even as he was buried to the hilt in me. If he wanted to, he could have flipped me over and drilled me straight into the bed. But for some reason, he liked our games even if I seemed to annoy the shit out of him with my disobedience. I was a human and he was an Endless, he didn’t have to entertain me. But he did and there was something utterly charming in that. That he didn’t mind playing with me even if he put on the image of the opposite. With a clenched jaw, he glared down into my smiling face, “I will attempt to teach you properly next time. Agreed.” And even though it wasn’t a question, I smiled mischievously and nodded, “Agreed.” Then I moved, rocking against him slowly at first to get my body used to the size of him. The drag was glorious against my already sensitive skin and I drank in the sight of his head thrown back and the long expanse of his neck bared to me. Sitting up properly on him, I lifted myself up and sank back down, drawing out the movement to mimic the way he had used his tongue. The angle was glorious and hit a deep spot in my that had me quake but I tried to keep an even pace even as Dream moved beneath me, spurring me on. Utterly incapable of giving over complete control. His hands slid up and down my back, guiding me into a rhythm that had the pleasure riding us slowly. My breath was coming out in sharp, frantic moans as the friction of our movements carried me deeper and deeper. I could die like this, utterly devastated by him, consumed by the feeling of him and his touch and his lips against mine. Morpheus sat up then and my legs instinctively crossed around his waist to stay in place on him, the angle changing. I gasped loudly as his arm wrapped tightly around my back and his hand tangled in my hair, rocking up into me with a snap of his hips. Our bodies were a crescendo of sounds and sweat slicked skin, his lips finding mine in a bruising kiss that had our teeth clattering. He grunted and jerked into me, cock hitting just the right spot to have my orgasm rushing forward brutally. Nails dug and scratched the skin of his back as I shattered, turning my head to bite down on his shoulder and release a long broken moan. He kept going, raising my hips and slamming over and over into my twitching sex until at last he followed me into the abyss and warm release shot through me. I groaned at the feeling, spent and so hot. I was a wreck, lips against his neck as I struggled to catch my breath and ride out the aftershocks of my orgasm along with him. Dream pressed his head to my hair and laid a kiss at my temple, his own shuddering breath tickling my ear as he combed through my mess of hair. His knuckles trailed up and down my spine and I shivered at the touch and the cooling skin, “That was cruel of you, little dreamer.” My body ached in the best way and I grinned into his shoulder, laying a sweet, innocent kiss there, “Was that not the lesson you were teaching me? “Wicked thing,” the Dream King growled. I smiled then, enjoying holding his body against mine and being completely smothered in his arms. And then the peace was broken with a startled giggle as he twisted us and he was on top of me again, lips on mine. Touch starved. It was a miracle we got anything done.
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whoxeology · 5 months
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⛧☾༺♰SFW Alphabet♰༻☽⛧
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PAIRING: Luke Castellan x Reader
WARNINGS: Established Relationship. Possible spoilers for TLT, Kissing, Making Out, OOC Luke.
W.C: 2.6K
A/N: I have not read the books only knowledge I have of Luke is from the movies, TV show, and multiple fics I have read. With that being said this is purely for fun and these are just my headcannons. You are more than welcome to disagree and leave feedback.
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Luke is extremely affectionate. His love language is definitely touch (he's very much touch-starved). He's not afraid of PDA but he likes to be respectful of those around you. When you are in public he'll be affectionate in subtle ways hands on your waist as he walks behind you, a kiss on your forehead when he leaves the dining table, hands caressing your sides as he fixes your fighting stance. He loves to be in your presence. Whether swimming in the lake with you, sitting beside you when you eat, or laying on your bed with you in your warm embrace.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Luke as a best friend would start off slow. You'd be in Hermes cabin because you weren't claimed yet and of course, Luke would show you around and make you feel more welcome. Slowly as the days went on and you weren't claimed you grew closer to Luke. Feeling safer knowing that he would have your back in anything. Eventually, you were claimed and forced to move cabins. Luke thought that would be the end of it another one had gone and moved on. Luke obviously didn't know you. You came back. Even with your new friends in your cabin you still preferred Luke's company.
Luke as a best friend would be loyal to you. Seeing as you felt the same as he did on many things. You two were similar in so many ways. He'd have your back and defend you even when you weren't there. He'd hate every guy you dated even before he had feelings for you because you were too good. Too good for their greedy, filthy, stained hands, too good for even him. He'd be snarky showing a sassy side to you when he was more comfortable.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
When you are alone he can not keep his hands to himself. His hands always find a way under your shirt just resting on your waist, hands messaging your calves, hands running through your hair as you lay your head in his lap. Some of the times none of this is sexual he just loves to feel the warmth of your skin. He loves to feel the smoothness of your skin against his rough calloused palms, to see each strand of hair as he twirls your pretty hair in his hands, to feel your heartbeat thump in his ear as he lays against your chest.
Most of the time you cuddle with Luke you'd end up as the little spoon but once in a while when Luke was overwhelmed with life and was trapped in his head he would lay on your chest legs tangled with yours as he listened to your steady heartbeat
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
First things first Luke is a terrible cook. Not only did he run away at a young age but he has been in camp since he was 14 so there was no need for him to learn how to cook. Needless to say Luke is very smart and strategic so if he really wanted to he could definitely learn to cook.
Luke has always thought of settling down. He knew it was something he really wanted to do. Especially with you. He would have doubts. Not about being with you but you being with him. He thinks you deserve better than anything he could ever give you. He would love to have kids and prove that he could be a better father to them than his father was to him. He would always be there for them and support their goals and dreams, He would never leave them.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
If you know Luke's story you know how it ends....... that being said Luke wouldn't want to break up with you. He'd want you to join him and be happy with him. However, seeing as you have morals you wouldn't join him. He would beg and plead for you to join him saying he loves you and needs you by his side.
Say he didn't join Kronos. Luke would try to fix whatever was wrong in your relationship. He would try so hard because he loves you. If he couldn't fix things then he'd let you down the easiest way to do it. He would assure you that even though you aren't not together anymore he would still care for you.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Luke is fully committed to you. His flesh, bones, and spirit belong to you and you only. He would think so much about popping the question. You guys were young and had a longggg life ahead of you. He'd always be scared that the day he did pop the question you would say no.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Luke is strong and he is well aware of it. He's no stranger to yanking your back towards him or grabbing your jaw firmly when he pulls you in for a kiss. In moments of heat and passion, he's what you want him to be. You want rough you got it just remember the safe word if anything. You want sweet he'll hold you like you would break and cradle you from the world.
Emotionally Luke is strong he has to be. He had to be growing up the way he did. He's no stranger to hiding his emotions. He wanted to be strong for you but you can always see right through him and tell when something is wrong. There's moments when his walls break and he crys to you about it all and you just hold him.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Luke is TOUCH STARVED. Any change he gets to hold you he will take it. Luke will hug you at least 20 times a day. When Luke hugs you it's engulfing. Luke is taller than you so when he hugs you from behind he loves to rest his chin on your head either that or sneak kisses into your neck.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Luke had liked Thalia and look how that ended..... Pine cones fate. When Luke realizes how much you really mean to him it scares him a bit. He's never loved anyone as much as he loved you and he was scared that you didn't feel the same for you or that he'd scarily lose you. So when you told him that you loved him first his eyes started to water. After a few seconds, he immediately said it back to you.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Luke says he doesn't get jealous. This is partially true. You are attractive meaning people are going to be flirting with you which Luke doesn't mind. It's when people forget that you are with him and get bold is when he's practically fuming cartoon-style. He'll approach you and make it well known to the other that he is yours and you are his. He'll slip up behind you hands on your waist and place a kiss on your neck then he'll take his place beside you arm securely wrapped around your waist as he joins the conversation with ease.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like?)
Luke has two types of kisses. One where you are practically made of glass and he is scared you might break. One hand on the side of your head and the other one on your waist as he kisses you as if you were his lifeline. Gentle kisses as he pours his love into you. The other version is hungry and consuming. One hand resting on your neck and the other wrapped around your waist to pull you closer than you already are. A harsh mixture of teeth and tongue as he shows you how much he needs you.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Seeing as most campers that join camp are around 12 years old Luke is pretty good around younger kids. He's always had patience and skill with them. Taking the time needed to show the kids a kind and welcoming hand.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Luke is always gone when you wake up. He snuck off in the night to avoid being caught. You'd get ready and meet him a breakfast where he is already sitting beside a spot he saved for you. His face would light up as he saw you complimenting you every morning even if had seen you hours ago. The conversation mainly consisted of how you slept and the plans for the day along with the occasional tease and snarky comment from Luke and the blushy eye-rolling from you.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Since camp had a curfew you and Luke would sneak around most nights to be with each other. Most nights you and Luke would meet by the lake. Blanket hidden under some lifting tree roots and pulled out and placed on the sand whenever you and Luke were there. You'd talk about your days and gaze at the stares. Jokes and stories told about your past, your hopes, and your dreams. Some nights you'd fall asleep in each other's arms on the sand under the stars and the moon no one else in the world but the two of you. Luke would be the first to wake (Mostly because of his nightmare) he'd admire the way you slept and chuckle at the slight drool pooling out of your mouth onto his bare chest. He'd gently shake you awake and help you back to your cabin complaining about how you'd need to rethink the blanket on the sand idea because he has sand in places he did not want to have sand in
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Luke was open to you from day 1. You and him were so much alike that he felt compelled to confide in you. He would slowly tell you things about his past. The tension between him and his father. His failed quest that gave him his scar. His mother. He ached when he spoke about his past but your touch soothed his pain. Dulled it down enough to be shoved away.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Luke had way more patience than you that would be for sure. Dealing with younger kids all day would definitely require you too. Once in a while when Luke was upset he would always seek you out. Your very presence made him feel at ease. During the very very few chances Luke comes to you upset and snaps on you he immediately apologizes.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Luke is your wiki page. He remembers every single thing about you from your favorite candy to your childhood house. He remembers your favorite constellation, your childhood pet name, hell he even remembers your favorite pair of earrings that you lost on a 4th grade field trip. At this point, Luke knows more about you than you do yourself.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Luke's favorite moment in your relationship was the moment you finally got together. It wasn't perfect but it was yours. Luke had been talking to a girl from Aphrodite's cabin and she was flirting with him and Luke was all into it. You had gotten pissed off and ignored him the whole day. You had no reason to be upset. Luke had found you at the lake after curfew and confronted you about being weird and off and things escalated turning the whole thing into an angry love confession.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Luke and protectiveness are practically the same thing. He would do anything to ensure not a single hair on your pretty little head was harmed. He would protect you not only physically but emotionally. He hated to see you hurt in any way. Luke would rather protect you than have you protect him. In moments during camp activities when someone was swinging at him you'd step in and he'd be upset that you could have gotten hurt but also his heart swells with pride that you'd put yourself in danger for him.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Luke tries every day. He is such a lover boy. Every day he will give you small gifts whether it's something he made or something he found. You have a collection of shiny rocks and pretty shells that Luke has gifted you through the years you've known him.
On dates and anniversaries, Luke goes all out. He has campers sneak your favorite things into camp candy, snacks, and flowers. He has the whole day planned out. From breakfast in bed to a fancy lunch in the forest, to a romantic dinner on the beach. All of your favorite things in your favorite places.
Luke's gifts were always given from the heart. You weren't materialistic Luke knew that so he got you gifts that held meaning. A bracelet made of string in your favorite color. Each bead on it marks a significant moment in your life since you got to camp. A seashell that he painted with a picture of your favorite constellation on the inside of it. Small yet meaningful and showing of effort put into his gifts.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Not much of a habit but Luke has such a strong hate for the gods specifically his father that makes him the worst version of himself (Kronos).
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Luke knows he's attractive with your help of course. After he got his scar his confidence plummeted. After lots of words of encouragement and affection, he slowly gained his confidence back. His baby loves how he looks and that's all that matters.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Luke would have never been one to say he felt like he needed someone to feel complete. However, since you came along he's felt as if you are his means to life themself. You are a deity he worships. He is completely devoted to you.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Luke is surprisingly a really good singer. Sometimes at nights when you can't sleep, he'll take you to the lake and sing to you as you lay your head down on his chest.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Dishonesty. As someone who is lying to literally everyone, he knows a liar when he sees one. He's a hypocrite really he lies but hates when others do it. Especially to his face.
Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)
Luke doesn't sleep much when he is alone. His nightmares keep him up. However, when he's with you he tends to sleep a little longer than normal. You help him sleep.
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irndad · 1 year
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double vision in a rose blush -s.r.
a/n: first fic in like a year and my first spencer fic! please let me know what you think!
summary: she is the best part of his days, his life, these days, really. the only problem is she never touches him. s/o to @bitesizedgremlin for writing the most adorable touch starved spence fic that got me 🥰
wc: 1.6k
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He loves looking at her. 
It feels hedonistic, like drinking a too-expensive wine. Looking at her brings a warmth that spreads all throughout him, like threaded gold embedded in her movements. It’s a lovely kind of ache, how she can bring the most open, the most raw parts of him to the surface. She is captivating, the way she laughs, the way she moves, the slightest intonation of affection she offers him in her tone. 
Tonight, she sits across from him at the team’s favorite bar. She’s wearing a deep emerald green top, the kind of thing that makes her look like something out of a dream. 
It’s not like it shows how much he likes her. He hopes it doesn’t. 
Sure, people tease them. She’s a consultant with their teams, one with a desk right next to his one. He initially thought he’d hate the company, but even on their first meeting, she was relentlessly kind. She had sat next to him, wearing a beautiful periwinkle sweater, and somehow he was talking for far too long about how the original blue pigments were sometimes made from toxic materials and how much modern effort it took to make a sweater that color.
He’d felt a familiar humiliation, the knowledge that a beautiful woman had sat down next to him and offered him kindness, and he’d met her with his own personal brand of anti-charisma.
But she hadn’t interrupted him. In fact, she granted him maybe the most welcoming, kind smile that he’s ever seen in his life.
And she’d asked more about the pigment. 
Spencer- he’d never known the kind of affection she offers so freely. It almost reminds him of Penelope- how open she is, how kind. Objectively, he knows she likes him at least a little bit. He’s a profiler, and he can tell at least that much. 
The hitch is, he’s the only one she doesn’t touch. 
Morgan gets shoulder brushes. Penelope hugs, and he even remembers her once giving Rossi a warm squeeze of her hand. But not him. Even now, she sits across from him after having held Morgan in a long hug of greeting. 
He looks up at her, her pretty fingers wrapped around the stem of a wine glass. She moves with such grace, no matter what the action. The way she tops her head back, how a lovely grin spreads across her face. He’d give anything not to be her exception. To be one of the people she touches. 
“What you thinking there, wonder kid?” She says, and somehow her voice carries across the crowded bar. He thinks he could pick her voice out anywhere.
“Nothing really,” he says back. He never likes the way his voice sounds around her. He wants to be confident, smooth, like Morgan. She leaves him too weak for it. “How are you feeling?”
“I am wondrous, Spencer.” She’s leaning into his space. Her tone is just a little shaky, influenced by the alcohol. He’s near enough to smell the lily-scented perfume she wears, and it’s everything in him not to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He’d gotten it for her for Christmas. 
He remembers her reaction to it, unwrapping the bow and wrapping he’d sent an hour trying to make perfect. It was one of the few times she touched him, however brief- a squeeze of his hand and that earnestly grateful look- the image kept him warm all year. She’d worn it to work more often than not. It brought him a shameful sense of satisfaction. 
She carries me with her. She has a piece of me with her wherever she goes. 
I want to be touched by you, he thinks, I want to be the one doing the touching. What is it about him? He knows his limbs are a little spindle-y, and he’s not exactly experienced in most forms of physical expression. But he could be, if he was given the chance. If it was with her. It’s not something he could say, though.
“You look lovely,” he says, unprompted. “I love that shirt on you.”
She flushes, and almost, almost, touches his knee in thanks. He preens at the praise, even though it’s not verbal. She’s just so beautiful. It’s always been about more than beauty for him, the mind behind the doe eyes and sweet smile. 
Still, it’s hard to deny how much of an effect she has on him- how she can glance at him with that honey sweet look, how the red on her lips has him wondering what it would taste like. If there could ever be anything better. Without thinking, he grabs one of her hands; it looks just so pretty in his own. He runs his thumb over her knuckles. It’s like electricity, passing through them. 
There has to be something he’s done. There has to be, if she touches everyone but him. He always notices, but tonight, with liquor and courage in his chest, he wants to ask. If he knows, if there’s something- maybe he can fix it. Maybe then she’ll put her pretty hands on him just like this. Touch him in any way she wants.
It wouldn’t be close to what he wants. But it would be something. 
“Hey,” his voice comes out uneven and shaky, but his eyes are locked on hers, “I-I’m sorry if I’ve done something.”
Her face blooms into an adorably confused expression. 
“I-,” His stutter jumps out but he’s still holding her hand, and it’s so soft and his stomach just won’t stop that flipping feeling and he just cannot let go, “I know you like to touch people. I don’t know if I-I’ve done something, but you- you never touch me.”
Suddenly, the bar feels a good bit quieter, and her eyes feel like they can see right through him. Her hands are the only thing tethering him here. 
“I don’t touch you?”
“Touch is actually one of the most well-regarded indicators of closeness and geniality in personal relationship.” 
“Spencer-“
“It stands to reason that if you touch everyone but me, there should be a reason and it’s like something that I would have done to offend you.”
“Hey-“
“I just want you to like me.”
Her face, the most beautiful face he’d ever seen- softens into a delicate expression of fondness. 
“Spence,” and god, doesn’t that sound lovely, “I thought you didn’t like touching.”
He pouts without thinking, and all thoughts leave his mind when her other hand reaches out to hold his face, her fingers on the junction of his chin and neck, stroking the side of his cheek.
The truth of it is he thinks of her hands on him in every way. Pictures hands laced together, her graceful fingers running through his hair as they lay on his couch. 
He’s imagined kissing her way too many times.
“Not with you. You’re different.”
He’s too honest. But it’s overwhelming. Her hand in his, the other brushing delicately over his face. He leans into it, a little too eager, but the sensation of it is just too much not to. 
“Remember the second day of me being with the team? You told Garcia she’s the only one allowed to touch you?”
“I think so?”
“Well, I like to repeat your boundaries.”
“I like you to touch me.”
She tips her head back, laughing, and she looks ethereal, the kind of smile gracing her face that’d have you believe everything you’ve every worried about in your god-forsaken life was worth it to witness this. 
“I’d like to touch you too, Reid.”
“You can call me Spencer,” he says, realizing how close they are. Lilies. He’s overplaying his hand. He’s a friend at work, he wants to remind himself. He’s the guy who bought her perfume and hands her files and gets her coffee and that does not mean the same thing as a partner. He’s not even the kind of person someone like her would want.
It’s just hard to remember that. 
“Spencer,” she says, more tender than anyone else had ever been with him., “I could be reading this wrong, but-“
It’s actually a small distance, kissing her. If she’d been more than a few inches from his face then he wouldn’t have done it. But she was so close, and she smiles into him, open and warm and his arms are around her waist, hers cradling his face, and it’s more touch than he knows what to do with, far less than anything he’d be willing to give up. 
It lasts a languid second and then ends too soon, her gorgeous eyes meeting his own, her basically in his lap. He knows that this is basically a bar-kiss between two coworkers, and that it is unlikely to be anything but that, but he kind of needs it to not be. Needs it to be more. 
“I don’t-I don’t know if you wanted to do that or if you want me to stop, but I really, really like you, and I know we work together and you might not like me back, I mean, probably not, right? But-“
“Spencer.” Her soft fingers are still brushing against his face, and he can’t help but be grateful for it. “I’m free tomorrow night.”
He’s not usually good at deciphering social cues that don’t relate to serial killers, but this one- it seems intentional. Her hands move from his cheek (and he winces, visibly) before wrapping both arms around his neck. It’s awfully romantic to be anything else. 
“Do you want to be my plans?” 
“Yes.”
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