#[sniffs it] needs more effort

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 4

Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words

A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)

All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.

The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up. 

There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.

This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.

How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.

You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.

Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”

Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”

“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.

“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”

You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”

"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"

“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”

And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.

How could you be upset about that?

"I'm not... mad.”

There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"

You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."

“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you? 

"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.

"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”

Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.

Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.

"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.

“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”

"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”

“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”

“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”

Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”

“And?”

You rolled onto your side. “And what?”

“Do you not miss my absence at work?”

“Well…”

“Well?” He prompted.

Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.

Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.

There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”

“…like what?”

“Like you’re out of breath.”

You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.

It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”

“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”

You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”

“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”

You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”

“In every way?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”

“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”

“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”

“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”

“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”

"I don't understand."

At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.

“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”

You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

"I find precise communication to be very important.”

You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”

His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"

"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”

You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.

He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."

You could, but you’d rather not.

"I didn't want to sound desperate."

"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.

“Tell me, what do you want now?”

You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.

“I want… you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”

“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.

Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.

Your hand began to move.

“I… I want your hands on me.”

“Where do you want my hands?”

“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.

“Everywhere?”

You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“On my hips…”

Your hand danced across your hips.

“My stomach…”

Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.

“Between my thighs…”

You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.

“Where else do you want me?”

Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.  Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I…”

“Are you?”

“No…”

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”

“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”

"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”

There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.

“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.

“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”

You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”

“Describe it to me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”

And you wished he was the one touching you.

You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.

Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”

You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.

“Better?”

You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”

“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”

His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.

“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"

"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.

“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”

You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.

The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”

"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”

You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.

Yet look at how much effect he had on you.

"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."

"In a good way, I hope?"

“Very good,” you assured him.

You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”

You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.

"How does that feel?"

"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.

“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”

You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.

“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”

“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”

You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.

“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”

You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.

“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”

You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.

“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”

Your breaths came in short gasps.

“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”

Your legs fell further apart.

“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”

How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.

“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”

You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.

“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”

You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”

Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.

“Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”

You hummed a reply.

“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”

A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.

“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”

You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”

“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.

“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”

“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.

“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”

You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”

And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”

You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”

“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.

Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”

You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”

You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”

Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.

"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”

With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”

The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.

Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.

“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”

A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"

You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”

"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"

You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”

“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”

You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”

Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Well, yes, but now it's… different."

You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"

"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."

A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”

“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”

“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”

He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”

“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“But if you insist…”

You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”

“Wait—You’re hanging up?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”

He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”

And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.

But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.

It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.

“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.

You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.

“How do I turn this into video call again?”

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish

gn reader

“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.

“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.

Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.

Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”

He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy. 

You think you might pass out.

“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.

You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.

“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.

Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”

“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”

You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.

“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”

He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.

“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”

He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.

He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.

“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”

He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.

“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.

Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”

“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”

There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.

“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.

He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.

“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y’know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”

You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.

“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip to stop a sob.

“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”

He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.

You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-” 

“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”

He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.

He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.

“I think thirty is fair.”

“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.

“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”

At least he doesn’t make you count....

You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.

Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.

He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead. 

“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~”  He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.

He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.

His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”

You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting. 

He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”

The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.

He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.

He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance. 

A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.

He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.

“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Aizawa, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Miya twins, Suna ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ BLLK – Reo, Isagi, Kunigami ♡ DS – Doma, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[cal-flakes]

hi lover!! can we see dealer!rafe teaching innocent!reader how to do a bump pretty please 😋😋 my fav trope!!!

yes yes yes yes you fuckin’ can my love. (not proofread i apologise i am a sleepy girl rn)

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “you lost or somethin’?” a smug voice appeared behind you, causing you to flinch in fright, lost in your own mind. you peered up at him, all glossy lipped and doe eyed, just like he expected. “oh— rafe! sorry, i was jus’ seeing if i left my charger in here” you explained, a sweet smile gracing your face. his brows furrowed, yet his shoulders relaxed, simply unable to keep up the intimidating act while you beamed up at him the way you did.

“and why would it be in here?” he questioned further, eyes narrowing slightly while a smirk tugged at his lips. “oh no— i mean, i didn’t leave it in here, but sarah said she might’ve let you borrow it or something?” your grin faltered slightly, picking up on the undertone of annoyance in his voice.

it wasn’t that rafe was scary— well, he was, but he made an effort not to scare you. how could he? his sister friend who always showed up in sweet little dresses, neatly styled hair, perfected makeup. the last thing he wanted was to scare you, if anything he wanted to know more. unbeknownst to rafe, you were just as intrigued— ogling him over the kitchen island when he came back to tannyhill late at night, interrupting your and sarah’s girly nights in. always offering to help whenever he seemed stressed.

taking a step back, he reached into his bedside drawer with ease, pulling out a familiar bedazzled iphone charger. “m’messin’ with you kid, y’mean this charger?” he chuckled, watching carefully as you let out a quiet, shaky breath before quickly regaining your smile. “that’s the one! thanks rafe!” you giggled, taking the item from his hands before heading for the door. “y’know, why don’t you stay for a bit? spend some time w’me? she’s got you all to herself all the time”

your hand retracted from the door immediately as the words left his mouth, though mentally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. “well— i’m sure she wouldn’t mind, just for little while”

— before you knew it, hours had passed, the only noise in the house being the movie rafe had picked as well as your giggles. you’d found yourself laying down on his bed, head resting on his knee as he lay against the headboard.

“y’look tired doll, y’okay?” he hummed, resting a lazy hand on your cheek as you released a surprised yawn, not wanting him to think you were getting bored. “jus’ a little, s’okay though, i can stay up a bit longer..” you spoke softly, turning over to face him now.

“i’ve got somethin’ that can help” he stated nonchalantly, reaching again into his bedside drawer, this time pulling out a not-so bedazzled baggy. your brows knitted together. “whas’at?”

“you trust me?” he tested, cocking an eyebrow as he sat up slightly. “course’ i do rafe” you smiled naively, watching as he opened the bag, tapping it gently as he poured out a small pile onto the back of his thumb. “this, is everything you need”

his other hand beckoned you forward till you were within his reach, carefully pulling you into his lap, legs slotted beside his as you tugged at the hem of your dress, doing your best to cover up. “now, your gonna close your other nostril, and sniff up— hard, m’kay? you listenin’ baby?” he instructed, tapping your jaw slightly as if you bring you back into the room, noticing the vacant look in your eyes as they stared at him in awe. “mhm”

swiftly, rafe pressed his hand to the back of your head as his other came up to your nose, guiding you through it as the grainy powder made its way up your nose, an unfamiliar feeling that only made your eyes water. “s’okay doll, it’ll hit you in a second alright?” he cooed, using the same hand to wipe away the pools building in the corners of your eyes before pulling you further into him.

“not just sarah’s little friend after all, huh kid?” he smirked, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest for a moment as you both waited for the high.

[jupiterpilgrim]

The Elf Who Couldn't Help

Christmas Special 🎄

Miyeon x Male Reader

word count: 5K

You're wandering through the crowded mall, Christmas music blasting from every direction as you try to check off the last few items on your shopping list. The usual holiday chaos surrounds you - parents dragging screaming kids, teenagers hogging the benches, old people walking too damn slow. Just another December afternoon.

That's when you spot the Santa's workshop setup near the food court. There's a long-ass line of hyper children waiting to sit on Santa's lap, but what catches your eye is his helper elf. She's this tiny Asian girl in a green costume that looks about two sizes too big, desperately trying to wrangle the kids into some kind of order.

"Please stay in line! One at a time!" Her voice is high and stressed as a group of boys completely ignores her, ducking under the rope barriers.

You can't help but chuckle at how overwhelmed she looks. The elf costume is ridiculous - striped tights, pointy shoes with bells, and a hat that keeps sliding down over her eyes. But there's something endearing about how hard she's trying, even as chaos erupts around her.

And she's undeniably adorable too.

"Fucking hell," you mutter under your breath as another kid breaks free from the line, causing even more chaos. The girl's shoulders slump in defeat as she tries to restore order. This will definitely be a long day for the poor thing.

You continue with your shopping, but find yourself passing by the Santa setup a few more times. Each time, the poor elf looks more and more frazzled. Her dark hair is escaping from under the hat, her cheeks are flushed, and she's practically jogging to keep up with all the line-cutting kids.

"Please, one at a time!" the elf girl pleads, her voice cracking slightly. You notice dark circles under her eyes as you walk past.

After finishing up your shopping, you head to your car feeling accomplished. That's when your phone buzzes - a text from your mother saying your cousin - yes, that cousin - decided last-minute to join Christmas dinner.

Fuck.

Now you need another gift.

With a sigh, you trudge back into the mall. The Santa setup is gone now, packed away for the night. You quickly grab a generic gift card (he's not worth much effort anyway) and head back to the parking lot.

That's when you hear it - soft sniffling coming from between two cars. You pause, keys in hand. The sound continues, clearly someone crying. Following the noise, you find a small figure curled up against a tire, wearing that ridiculous elf costume.

"Hey... are you okay?" You ask gently.

She jerks up with a gasp, hastily wiping her eyes. It's the same elf from earlier, but her makeup is smeared and her eyes are red and puffy.

"I'm fine!" She squeaks, trying to force a smile. "Just... just taking a break!"

You raise an eyebrow. "In the parking lot? At night?"

She deflates slightly. "Okay, maybe not just taking a break..."

"I saw you earlier, helping Santa. Rough day with the kids?"

A bitter laugh escapes her. "That obvious, huh?" She sniffs and wipes her nose with her sleeve. "Everything went wrong. The kids were crazy, I couldn't control them, I dropped hot chocolate all over myself... and now they're firing me. Said I'm not 'elf material.'"

"That's harsh. Those kids were like wild animals though, not sure anyone could have controlled them."

She shrugs, looking down at her ridiculous pointed shoes. "I really needed this job though. Even just through Christmas..."

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll find something else soon." You hesitate for a second, then you say your name.

"Miyeon," she replies softly.

"Nice to meet you, Miyeon. Look, this might sound weird but... would you want to grab something to eat? You look like you could use a friend right now."

Her eyes widen. "Oh! That's very kind but... I don't know you. And I probably look terrible..." She gestures at her tear-stained face.

You grin. "Come on, who doesn't want to have dinner with a Christmas elf? I promise I'm not a serial killer. We can go somewhere public with lots of witnesses."

That gets a small laugh out of her. "I really shouldn't..."

Right on cue, her stomach lets out a loud growl. Her face turns bright red.

"When's the last time you ate?" You ask.

"Um... breakfast? Maybe?" She admits sheepishly. "I was too nervous to eat lunch..."

"That settles it then. Come on, my treat. Consider it my good deed for the holiday season."

She bites her lip, clearly conflicted. "You really don't have to..."

"I want to. Plus, how often do I get to take an elf to dinner? It'll make a great story."

Finally, a real smile breaks through. "Okay... but only if you promise to drive me home after?"

"Scout's honor," you reply, helping her up.

—

You lead her to your car, noticing how small and vulnerable she looks in the ridiculous elf costume. During the short drive, you learn that Miyeon is a college student who needed extra money for textbooks next semester.

"The mall job seemed perfect," she explains. "Decent pay for just two weeks of work. But I guess I'm not cut out for dealing with kids."

"Those weren't kids, they were tiny terrorists," you reply, making her giggle.

At the diner, you slide into a booth and watch in amusement as Miyeon demolishes a huge plate of pancakes. She pauses between bites, suddenly self-conscious.

"Am I being rude? I must look like such a pig..."

"Not at all. Eat up - you've earned it after this sitty day."

Other diners keep glancing at your table, probably wondering why there's an elf having breakfast for dinner. Miyeon shrinks under their stares.

"Don't you need to return the costume?" you ask.

She shakes her head. "Had to buy it myself. Waste of money now..."

"Seriously? They made you pay for it? That's fucked up."

"Yeah... I spent most of my savings on it too." Her voice wavers slightly.

You study her as she eats - she really is cute, even in the silly costume. There's something genuine and sweet about her that draws you in.

"So what are you studying?" you ask.

"Art history. Everyone says it's useless but... I love it. There's something magical about understanding how art has shaped human culture throughout time."

Her eyes light up as she talks about her studies, hands gesturing animatedly. You find yourself smiling at her enthusiasm.

"That's actually really cool. Most people just chase whatever degree will make them the most money."

"That's what my parents wanted me to do," she sighs. "They think I'm wasting my time. The mall job was supposed to prove I could be responsible and support myself but..." she trails off, looking down at her empty plate.

"Hey, no matter what they think. Do what makes you happy."

She gives you a grateful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

After dinner, you drive her home as promised. She lives in a small apartment complex near campus.

"Thank you so much for everything," Miyeon says sincerely. "I don't know how to repay you."

You pretend to think hard for a moment.

"Hmm, how about drinks tomorrow night?" you suggest. "No elf costume required."

Her eyes widen. "Are you... are you asking me out?"

"Unless that would be weird?"

"No! I mean... no, it wouldn't be weird. I'd like that." Her cheeks flush pink.

"Great. I'll text you?"

She nods, typing her number into your phone. As she gets out of the car, she turns back one more time.

"You know... maybe getting fired wasn't the worst thing after all."

—

The next evening, you meet Miyeon at a cozy bar downtown. She looks completely different out of the elf costume - wearing a simple sweater and jeans that highlight her petite but curvy figure. Her dark hair falls in soft waves around her face.

"Wow, you clean up nice," you tease. "Almost didn't recognize you without the pointy ears."

She rolls her eyes but smiles. "Never mention that costume again. I'm trying to repress those memories."

Over drinks, conversation flows easily. You learn that Miyeon moved here from Korea as a child, that she has a passion for Renaissance art, and that she secretly loves terrible reality TV shows. She's funny and smart, with a dry sense of humor that catches you off guard.

"So what do you do?" she asks, sipping her cocktail.

You tell her about your job, making her laugh with stories about your weird coworkers. As the night goes on, you find yourself moving closer together, knees touching under the table.

"Want to know a secret?" Miyeon says, slightly tipsy. "I actually hate Christmas music now. Hours of Jingle Bells on repeat will do that to you."

"I don't blame you. That shit's torture."

She giggles, leaning into you slightly. "You know what else? Some of those kids were evil. Like, actually evil. One bit me!"

"No fucking way!"

"Yes! Right here!" She rolls up her sleeve to show you a small bruise on her forearm. Without thinking, you gently run your fingers over the mark. Her skin is incredibly soft.

Miyeon shivers slightly at your touch, looking up at you with those big dark eyes. The air between you feels charged suddenly.

"Do you want to take a walk in the park?" you ask softly.

Shd nods, biting her lower lip.

—

The winter air nips at your faces as you and Miyeon stroll through the park. Christmas lights twinkle in the trees, creating a magical atmosphere despite the late hour. Snow crunches beneath your feet as you walk close together, shoulders brushing.

"Thanks for tonight," Miyeon says softly. "I really needed this after... you know." She gestures vaguely, probably referring to the elf fiasco.

"Hey, I should be thanking you. Not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress from a parking lot," you tease.

She playfully shoves your shoulder. "I wasn't in distress! I was just... strategically regrouping."

"Is that what we're calling crying behind a car now?"

"Shut up," she laughs, but moves closer to you as a cold breeze whips past.

You find a bench overlooking a small pond, its surface reflecting the colorful lights. Sitting close together for warmth, you can smell her light floral perfume mixing with the crisp winter air.

"You know what's funny?" Miyeon says, watching her breath form little clouds. "If I hadn't been such a terrible elf, we never would have met."

"You weren't terrible. Those kids were demons."

"True. But still..." She turns to look at you, snowflakes catching in her dark hair. Her cheeks are pink from the cold and maybe the drinks. "I'm kind of glad it happened."

The moment feels perfect - the lights, the snow, her eyes shining as she looks up at you. You lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants to.

Instead, she meets you halfway.

Her lips are soft and slightly cold from the winter air. The kiss is gentle, tentative at first, then deepening as she sighs against your mouth. Your hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing away a snowflake.

When you finally part, Miyeon's eyes stay closed for a moment longer, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Wow," she breathes.

"Yeah," you agree eloquently, making her giggle.

—

The next few days pass in a pleasant blur. You text constantly, sharing memes and stories about your days. She sends you pictures of terrible Christmas sweaters at thrift stores, you counter with photos of your coworker's increasingly elaborate desk decorations.

You meet up again for coffee between her job hunting attempts. This time she's wearing an oversized sweater that makes her look even tinier, hands wrapped around a steaming peppermint latte.

"I had another interview today," she sighs. "At a bookstore this time."

"How'd it go?"

"Well, I didn't cry or spill anything, so better than the mall job already." She takes a sip of her drink, leaving a foam mustache that you resist the urge to kiss away. "But they said they're looking for someone with more retail experience."

"That's bullshit. How are you supposed to get experience if no one will hire you?"

"Exactly!" She throws up her hands in frustration. "It's like they expect me to emerge fully formed from the womb with five years of customer service experience."

You think for a moment. "You know... my friend works at that art supply store downtown. I could put in a word?"

Miyeon's eyes light up. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course. Plus, it's related to your major kind of. You'd be surrounded by art stuff all day."

She practically bounces in her seat. "That would be amazing! Thank you-thank you-thank you!"

Her enthusiasm is infectious. You can't help but lean across the table to kiss her, tasting peppermint on her lips.

The art store interview goes well - Your friend's recommendation carries weight, and Miyeon's genuine passion for art shines through. They hire her for a temporary position through the holiday season, with potential to stay on part-time after.

"I start Monday!" she tells you excitedly over the phone. "And the employee discount is amazing. I'm going to buy so many fancy pencils."

You celebrate with takeout at her tiny apartment near campus. It's cramped but cozy, walls covered in art prints and fairy lights. You sit on her futon eating Chinese food straight from the containers while she tells you about all her plans.

"The manager said they do workshops sometimes too. Like, teaching basic techniques and stuff. Maybe eventually I could lead one!" She's practically vibrating with excitement.

"Look at you, moving up in the world. From disgraced elf to art guru."

She throws a fortune cookie at your head. "Never mention the elf thing again! I'm trying to maintain some dignity here."

You catch the cookie and crack it open. "'A surprise encounter will lead to lasting happiness.’ Huh, guess these things are right sometimes."

Miyeon blushes, ducking her head. You set aside the takeout containers and pull her close, kissing her slowly. She melts against you, fingers curling into your shirt.

The makeout sessions are becoming a regular thing, but neither of you pushes for more. It's nice, this slow build of intimacy. Learning the little things about each other - how she scrunches her nose when she laughs, the way she absently hums while reading, her habit of stealing sips of your drinks and more.

—

You help her prepare for her first day, picking out an outfit that's professional but still her style.

She texts you updates throughout the day:

"OMG there are so many types of pencils. How are there this many pencils??"

"Just had to explain to someone why they can't return used paint. Why are people like this?"

"A kid just asked me what colors taste the best. I told him blue. Hope I don't get sued."

After her shift, you meet her for dinner. She's tired but happy, chattering about everything she learned.

"And did you know there are pencils that cost like $50 EACH? For one pencil! But they're so smooth, feel this!" She pulls a sample pencil from her bag, making you test it on a napkin.

"Very smooth," you agree, charmed by her enthusiasm. "Worth $50?"

"Maybe not $50, but with my discount..." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

The days leading up to Christmas pass quickly. You help Miyeon learn the store's inventory system, quizzing her on different types of paper and brush sizes. She introduces you to her favorite cheap noodle places near campus.

One evening, you're walking her home when it starts snowing heavily. She tilts her head back, sticking out her tongue to catch snowflakes.

"You know what?" she says thoughtfully. "I actually kind of miss the elf costume. Just a tiny bit."

You raise an eyebrow. "Stockholm syndrome kicking in?"

"No, it's just... if I hadn't taken that stupid job, if I hadn't been so bad at it... we wouldn't be here now." She stops walking, turning to face you. "Sometimes the worst things lead to the best things, you know?"

You brush snow from her hair. "Very philosophical. Must be all that art history education."

"Shut up," she laughs, standing on tiptoes to kiss you. Her lips are cold but her mouth is warm, tasting like the hot chocolate you shared earlier.

When she pulls back, her eyes are serious. "Thank you. For everything. The job, the support... just being there."

"Hey, I got something out of it too. How many people can say they're dating a former mall elf?"

She groans. "I take it back. You're the worst."

But she's smiling as she says it, snowflakes catching on her eyelashes, and you think maybe those fortune cookies know what they're talking about after all.

—

The art supply store keeps her busy through the holiday rush. You bring her coffee during her breaks, watching her explain different types of paints to customers with growing confidence. She's in her element here, surrounded by creative supplies and fellow art enthusiasts.

"A lady asked me to recommend brushes for oil painting today," she tells you proudly. "And I actually knew what to suggest! I'm becoming one of those knowledgeable retail people."

"Better than being one of those retail people who hides in the stockroom to cry," you point out.

"That was ONE TIME," she protests, but she's laughing.

—

Finally, about two days before Christmas, you invite her over to your place for dinner. You've cooked before, but tonight feels different. There's an electricity in the air, an unspoken anticipation.

Miyeon shows up wearing a simple red dress that hugs every curve. Her dark hair falls in soft waves past her shoulders, and you catch a hint of floral perfume when she hugs you hello.

"Something smells amazing," she says, following you to the kitchen.

"Don't sound so surprised," you tease. "I can cook sometimes."

"Sometimes being the key word." She peers into the pot on the stove. "Remember the Great Pasta Disaster of last week?"

"Hey, how was I supposed to know the sauce would explode like that?"

She laughs, stealing a piece of garlic bread. "My ceiling is still stained red. My landlord thinks I murdered someone up there."

Dinner is comfortable, filled with your usual banter. But there's an undercurrent of tension, a charge building between you. Every accidental brush of hands sends sparks down your spine. You catch her staring at your lips more than once.

After the dishes are done, you move to the couch with glasses of wine. Miyeon curls up against your side, fitting perfectly under your arm. You can feel her heart racing.

"This is nice," she murmurs, tracing patterns on your thigh.

"Yeah?" Your voice comes out rougher than intended. "Just nice?"

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes dark and intense. "Maybe more than nice..."

You cup her face with one hand, thumb brushing her cheek. She leans into the touch, breath hitching slightly.

"Miyeon..."

"Yes?"

"Do you like me?"

Instead of answering, she surges up to press her lips against yours. It starts soft, tentative, but quickly deepens into something more urgent. Her tongue slides against yours as she shifts to straddle your lap, dress riding up her thighs.

You run your hands up her sides, feeling her shiver. She grinds down against you, drawing a groan from your throat. When you break for air, her pupils are blown wide with desire.

"Bedroom?" You manage to ask.

She nods frantically. "Please."

You stand, lifting her with you. Her legs wrap around your waist as you carry her down the hall, still kissing. You nearly trip twice, making her giggle against your mouth.

Finally reaching the bedroom, you put her back on the floor, your fingers gently touch her cheek, she looks up at you with such trust and want that it makes your chest ache.

"You're sure about this?" You have to ask.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she replies.

That’s all you needed to hear.

Your hands roam over Miyeon's body, mapping every delicious curve through her thin dress. She arches into your touch, soft moans escaping her perfect lips. When you kiss down her neck, she threads her fingers through your hair, pulling you closer.

"I've wanted this for so long," she whispers, her voice trembling with need. "Ever since we first met..."

You gently bite her neck, making her gasp. "Me too, princess. You drive me fucking crazy." Your hands slide down to squeeze her ass through the dress. She feels so perfect, so soft yet firm.

Miyeon grinds against you, her breath coming faster. "Please... touch me more..." She guides your hand to her breast, letting you feel her hardened nipple through the fabric.

You waste no time sliding the dress straps off her shoulders, revealing more of her flawless porcelain skin. Her medium breasts spill free, pink nipples begging for attention. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," you growl, taking one peak into your mouth.

"Ohh! Yes, suck them..." She holds your head to her chest as you lavish her breasts with your tongue, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucking. Her moans get louder when you graze your teeth over the sensitive buds.

Your hands push her dress down further until it pools at her feet. Miyeon stands before you in just her lacy panties, her face flushed with arousal and slight embarrassment. You drink in the sight of her nearly naked body.

"You're staring too much," she says shyly.

You gently grab her wrists. "It's because you're fucking perfect." You pull her close for a deep kiss, your tongue exploring her mouth as your hands roam her exposed skin.

She melts into the kiss, pressing her breasts against your chest. You can feel her nipples hard against you through your shirt. Her hands tug at the fabric. "Take this off... I want to feel your skin..."

You break the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. When your bare chest meets hers, you both moan at the contact. Her skin is so incredibly soft against yours.

"Bed. Now." You guide her backwards until her knees hit the mattress. She lies back, dark hair fanning out on the pillow as she looks up at you with those innocent yet lustful eyes.

You crawl over her, leaving a trail of hot kisses from her tummy up to her neck. Her hands explore your back, nails lightly scratching. When you grind your clothed erection against her core, she gasps.

"Can you feel how hard you make me?" You thrust against her again, making her whimper.

"Y-yes... I want to see it..." Her hands move to your belt, fumbling with the buckle.

You help her undo your pants, kicking them off along with your boxers. Your cock springs free, already rock hard and leaking precum. Miyeon's eyes widen as she takes in your size.

"Like what you see, princess?" You smirk as her hand wraps around your shaft, stroking experimentally.

"It's so big..." she whispers, thumb brushing over your sensitive tip. "Will it... fit?"

"We'll go nice and slow, baby. But first..." You hook your fingers in her panties, sliding them down her legs. You spread her creamy thighs wide apart, admiring how her pink pussy glistens with arousal. Her outer lips are puffy and swollen, inner folds glistening with her juices. The musky scent of her cunt makes your mouth water as you lean in closer. “Fuck, you're already so wet for me.”

"Please..." she whimpers, squirming under your intense gaze. "Stop teasing and lick me already!"

You give her a wicked grin before diving in, dragging your hot tongue through her dripping slit from bottom to top. The taste of her pussy explodes across your tongue - tangy and sweet like ripe fruit. She cries out and bucks her hips up into your face.

"Fuck! Your tongue feels so good!" Her fingers tangle in your hair as you focus on her clit, circling the swollen nub with firm strokes. You can feel it getting harder and more pronounced under your tongue.

Holding her thighs open wider, you bury your face deeper between her legs, eating her pussy like it's your last meal. Your tongue alternates between fucking into her tight hole and flicking rapidly over her clit. Wet sucking sounds fill the room as you devour her cunt.

Her pussy is absolutely drenched now, cream coating your chin as you feast on her. You slide two fingers into her clutching channel while continuing to assault her clit with your tongue. The walls of her cunt squeeze your digits hungrily.

"Holy shit, don't stop! Right there!" She grinds her pussy against your face, chasing her pleasure. "I'm getting so close already..."

You curl your fingers to massage her g-spot while sucking her clit between your lips. The combination has her writhing and moaning uncontrollably. Her thighs start to tremble as her orgasm builds.

You increase the pressure and speed, determined to make her cum hard on your tongue. Your fingers pump in and out of her sopping pussy while you flick her clit mercilessly. She's so wet that obscene squelching noises accompany each thrust of your fingers.

"Fuck fuck fuck! I'm gonna cum!" Her back arches off the bed as her climax hits. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers as waves of pleasure course through her. You keep licking and sucking, drawing out her orgasm until she pushes your head away.

But you're not done with her yet. Not so soon. As she lies there panting, you reposition yourself between her legs. Her pussy is still twitching with aftershocks when you dive back in, this time focusing solely on her sensitive clit.

"Wait! I just came—ahhhh!" Her protest turns into a moan as you suck her swollen clit between your lips. You can feel her trying to close her legs but you hold them open, continuing your relentless assault on her pussy.

The oversensitivity quickly transforms back into pleasure as you work her towards another orgasm. Your tongue swirls around her clit in tight circles while three fingers pump into her dripping hole. Her cream coats your hand as you finger-fuck her roughly.

"Oh god, I can't... it's too much!" But her hips are rocking against your face again, chasing the building pleasure. You can feel her pussy getting even wetter, if that's possible.

You alternate between broad strokes with your flattened tongue and quick flicks directly on her clit. Meanwhile your fingers curl to hit her g-spot with each thrust. The combination of stimulation has her climbing rapidly towards another peak.

Her moans get higher and more desperate as you drive her wild with your mouth and fingers. You can tell she's fighting the pleasure, still sensitive from her first orgasm. But you're determined to make her cum again.

"Please... I can't take it... gonna cum again!" Her thighs start shaking as her second orgasm approaches. You double down, sucking her clit firmly while hammering your fingers against her g-spot.

She screams as she cums, her pussy clamping down so hard on your fingers that you can barely move them. You keep your lips locked around her clit, sucking gently to draw out the intense pleasure.

When her orgasm finally subsides, you slowly withdraw your fingers from her quivering pussy. They're absolutely coated in her cream. You make eye contact as you lick them clean, savoring her tangy flavor.

"Holy shit..." Miyeon pants, still trembling. "That was incredible. I've never cum that hard before."

You smirk and dive right back in, making her yelp in surprise. Her clit is swollen and ultra-sensitive now, perfect for what you have planned. You flatten your tongue and lap at her pussy with long, slow strokes.

"No more, baby, I can't..." But her protests are weak and her hips are already moving against your mouth again. You can feel her getting wetter as you continue eating her out.

This time you take it slow, building her up gradually. Your tongue explores every fold and crease of her pussy, occasionally dipping into her hole to taste her essence. When you finally return attention to her clit, she's practically begging for it.

"Please... need to cum again..." Miyeon rocks desperately against your face, seeking more pressure. But you keep your touches light and teasing, driving her crazy with want.

You trace letters on her clit with the tip of your tongue, spelling out filthy words as she writhes beneath you. When you finally slide your fingers back into her clutching pussy, she moans in relief.

"Yes! Fuck me with your fingers while you eat my pussy!" Her dirty talk spurs you on as you pump three fingers into her dripping hole. Your tongue works her clit with firm, steady pressure.

Her pussy is absolutely gushing now, cream running down your wrist as you finger-fuck her roughly. The wet sounds of your fingers plunging into her cunt fill the room along with her desperate moans.

You curl your fingers to massage her g-spot while sucking her clit between your lips. The dual stimulation has her climbing rapidly towards another orgasm. Her thighs start trembling as she gets close.

"Gonna cum again! Don't stop, please don't stop!" She grinds her pussy against your face, chasing her pleasure. You increase the pressure and speed, determined to give her the most intense orgasm yet.

Her back lifts clear off the bed, her body trembling violently as the orgasm tears through her. Miyeon's cries of your name echo in the room, her voice breaking into a series of desperate whimpers. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers, pulsating in rhythm with the waves of pleasure crashing through her. Her hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles white, as her thighs twitch uncontrollably. You don’t let up, your fingers continuing to work her through every shuddering moment of ecstasy, curling and teasing until she lets out a sharp gasp and pushes your head back, her hips jerking away.

"Stop, stop! Too much," she pants, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body glistening with sweat.

You lean back, watching her recover, her hair splayed out like a halo against the pillow. Her cheeks are flushed deep red, lips parted as she struggles to catch her breath. She drapes an arm over her face, giggling weakly. "Wow... that was—like—insane. I didn’t know you were this good with your hands."

“Take your time,” you say, your tone soft but teasing as your gaze roams her utterly wrecked form.

She peeks at you from beneath her arm, her eyes still hazy and unfocused. Her thighs quiver as she stretches her legs out, one hand brushing against her stomach as if grounding herself. “Okay, just give me a second,” she murmurs, her voice shaky, a tired smile playing at her lips.

While she lies there, basking in the aftershocks, you reach over to the nightstand. Your fingers brush against the foil packet, and you tear it open deliberately, watching her out of the corner of your eye. Her gaze snaps to you as you roll the condom onto your throbbing cock, her pupils dilating slightly.

"Already?" she whispers, a flicker of excitement chasing away the exhaustion in her expression. You smirk, positioning yourself above her, letting her feel the heat of your body pressing against hers.

"Yes. Ready for me, princess?" You position yourself at her entrance, rubbing your tip through her folds.

She nods, pulling you down for a passionate kiss. You can feel her trembling with anticipation.

"Tell me if it's too much," you murmur against her lips as you start pushing in. The head pops past her tight entrance, making you both moan.

"Oh fuck... you're so big..." She bites her lip, adjusting to the stretch as you slowly feed more of your length into her.

You go inch by inch, letting her pussy accommodate your size. Her walls grip you like a vice, so hot and tight it takes all your control not to just slam in.

"That's it, baby, taking my cock so well..." You bottom out, fully sheathed in her warmth.

You stay still for a moment, letting her adjust while peppering kisses across her face and neck. When her hips start moving against you, you take it as your cue to move.

You start with a few slow, shallow thrusts, just to get her warmed up. Miyeon's moans are soft at first, but they grow louder with each push, urging you on. You can feel her nails digging into your back, her legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper into her. The angle changes, and you hit something inside her that makes her cry out.

"Fuck, right there," she gasps. "Don't stop."

You don't plan to. You pick up the pace, your hips moving faster, your cock sliding in and out of her slick pussy. She's meeting your thrusts, her body arching up to take you deeper.

"Faster," she begs, her voice ragged. "Please fuck me faster."

You grip her hips, your fingers digging into her soft flesh. You start really giving it to her, your balls slapping against her ass with each stroke. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall as you pound her tight pussy.

"You like that, huh?" you growl in her ear. "Like getting fucked hard by my big cock?"

"Yes!" she screams. "Oh god, yes! Your cock feels so fucking good inside me."

Her words dissolve into incoherent moans, her body writhing beneath you. You can feel her getting wetter, her cream coating your shaft and dripping down her ass, making a fucking mess of the sheets. You can see it glistening on your cock every time you pull out, can feel it easing the way as you slam back in.

You lean down, your teeth finding her neck, biting down as you fuck her even harder. She cries out, her body convulsing around you. You can feel her pussy clenching, her walls squeezing your cock.

"Fuck, you're close," you groan. "I can feel it."

"Yes," she pants. "I'm gonna cum again. I'm gonna cum all over your cock."

You can feel your own orgasm building, your balls drawing up tight. But you hold back, determined to make her cum first. You want to feel her lose control, want to feel her pussy milking your cock.

You reach between them, your fingers finding her clit. You rub it in tight circles, your cock still pounding into her. She screams, her body bucking, her pussy clamping down on you like a vice.

"Cum for me, baby," you growl. "Let me feel you cum all over my cock."

And she does. She cums hard, her body convulsing, her pussy pulsing around you. You can feel her cream coating your cock, can feel it dripping down your balls. You keep fucking her, drawing out her orgasm, making her cry out with each thrust. Gradually you slow down the pace, each time your cock goes deep inside her, it pulls out slowly, you stay at this teasing pace until she catches her breath, then when you finally pull your cock out of her, without warning, you lift her shapely leg, exposing her dripping pussy and those delicate feet with festive red toenails.

"What are you doing?" she asks, watching as you grip her ankle.

"I'm gonna worship every inch of you," you growl, bringing her foot closer to your face. "Your pretty little toes look too tasty to resist."

Miyeon giggles nervously. "Nobody's ever... Oh fuck!" she gasps as you take her big toe into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. The polish is smooth against your tongue as you suck gently, watching her face for reactions.

"Does that feel good, baby?" You ask between licks. Her toes taste clean with just a hint of salt from sweat.

"Mmmhh... it's weird but... kinda nice," she admits, wiggling her toes against your tongue. You take two toes in your mouth now, sucking harder as your hand slides up her thigh.

"Your feet are fucking perfect," you tell her, kissing down to her arch. "Just like the rest of you." Your fingers find her pussy lips, already swollen and slick from earlier. You gather some of her wetness and start rubbing slow circles around her clit.

"Ohhh..." Miyeon moans, her leg trembling in your grip. You alternate between sucking her toes and licking long stripes up her sole while your fingers work her pussy. Her cream coats your digits as you slide two inside her tight channel.

"So wet for me," you growl. "I love how your pussy gets all creamy when you're turned on." You curl your fingers, finding that special spot that makes her whole body jerk.

"Fuck! Right there!" she cries out, grinding against your hand. You keep the pressure steady, pumping your fingers as you lavish attention on her feet. Her pussy clenches rhythmically around you.

"You gonna cum again for me?" you ask, increasing the pace of your fingers. "Gonna soak my hand with that sweet pussy?"

"Yes! Please don't stop!" Miyeon pants, her head thrashing on the pillow. You can feel her getting close, her inner walls fluttering. Just before she peaks, you withdraw your fingers, making her whine in protest.

"Not yet baby," you tease, releasing her foot. "I want to fuck you while I suck these pretty toes." You position yourself behind her, keeping her leg lifted. Your cock slides easily through her folds, gathering her wetness.

"Please," she begs. "I need you inside me..."

You press just the tip against her entrance, making her squirm.

"Tell me how bad you want it."

"Please, baby, I need to feel your big cock deep in my pussy! Please fuck me... I'm so empty..."

Unable to resist her pleading, you thrust forward, burying your full length in her tight heat. "Fuuuck," you groan. "Your pussy feels amazing." You start a steady rhythm, not too fast yet, wanting to build her up slowly.

Miyeon moans with each thrust, her pussy gripping you perfectly. You capture her toes in your mouth again, sucking hard as you fuck her. The dual stimulation has her writhing.

"Oh god... that's so... unngh!" She can barely form words as pleasure overwhelms her. You increase your pace gradually, driving deeper. Her cream coats your shaft, making obscene wet sounds with each stroke.

"You like having your toes sucked while I fuck this tight pussy?" you ask, releasing her foot momentarily. "Such a good girl, taking my cock so well."

"Yes! Love it... love your cock..." she gasps. You've never heard her talk so dirty before. It spurs you on, making you thrust harder.

Her pussy starts clenching erratically around you as you pound into her. You can tell she's getting close again. This time you don't let up, determined to make her cum hard.

"Something's happening..." Miyeon pants suddenly. "Feels different... like I need to pee..."

"That's it baby," you encourage her. "Don't fight it. Let go for me." You redouble your efforts, angling your hips to hit her g-spot with each thrust while sucking her toes enthusiastically.

"But... unngh... I can't..." she protests weakly, even as her body tenses up.

"Yes, you can! Cum for me Miyeon. Fucking squirt all over my cock!" You slam into her faster, feeling her pussy spasm around you.

"Oh god, oh god, OH FUCK!" Miyeon screams as the dam finally breaks. Clear fluid gushes from around your cock, soaking the sheets beneath you. Her whole body convulses as she experiences her first squirting orgasm.

You keep thrusting through her release, prolonging it as much as possible. More fluid spurts out with each stroke as she trembles uncontrollably.

"That's it baby, let it all out," you growl around her toes. "So fucking hot watching you squirt."

Miyeon can only moan incoherently as waves of pleasure crash over her. Her pussy clamps down so hard it nearly pushes you out, but you maintain your rhythm until her orgasm finally starts to subside.

You gently release her foot and slow your thrusts, giving her time to catch her breath. She looks absolutely wrecked in the best way possible.

"Holy shit," she pants when she can speak again. "What... what was that?"

You chuckle, still buried deep inside her quivering pussy. "That was you squirting, baby. Felt good, didn't it?"

She nods weakly. "Amazing... I didn't know I could do that..."

"Oh we're just getting started," you promise with a wicked grin. "Now that I know how to make you squirt, I'm gonna make you do it again and again..."

Miyeon whimpers at your words, her pussy clenching around you. You can feel she's still sensitive, but also still aroused.

Perfect.

"Ready?" you ask, starting to move inside her again. She moans in response as you lift her foot back to your mouth...

Your cock slides easily through her creamy folds as you build up a steady rhythm once more. Miyeon's moans get louder with each thrust, her oversensitive pussy gripping you like a vice.

"Such a good girl," you praise her between licks to her foot. "Taking my cock so well after that huge orgasm."

"Feels so good," she gasps. "Everything's so sensitive..."

You angle your hips to hit her g-spot again, making her whole body jerk. "Think you can squirt for me again?" You ask, increasing your pace slightly.

"I... unngh... maybe?" Miyeon pants. "Still feels like I might pee..."

"That's normal, baby. Just let it happen." You suck her big toe into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it as you fuck her deeper. Her cream coats your shaft, dripping down onto the already soaked sheets.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." she chants as the pleasure builds. You can feel her starting to tense up again, her inner walls fluttering around your cock.

"That's it," you encourage her. "Let go for me. Show me what a good little squirter you are."

Your words push her over the edge. With a sharp cry, Miyeon's pussy contracts hard and another gush of clear fluid sprays out around your cock.

"Fuck yes!" You growl, maintaining your rhythm as she squirts. "So fucking hot watching you lose control like this."

Wave after wave of pleasure rocks through her body as you continue fucking her through the intense orgasm. Her toes curl against your tongue as more fluid spurts out with each thrust.

When her release finally subsides, Miyeon lies there trembling and gasping for air. You slow your pace but don't stop completely, knowing you can wring at least one more orgasm from her oversensitive body.

"Please..." she whimpers, her body trembling beneath you. "It's too much... I can't..."

"Shh, baby," you murmur, your voice steady and firm. "You can take it. You can take everything I give you." You slow your thrusts a little more, letting her catch her breath, but not enough to let her come down from the peak. "You've got one more in you. I know you do."

She shakes her head, her hair sticking to her sweat-slicked face. "No, I can't... I can't..."

"You can," you insist, your cock still moving inside her, stirring up her pleasure again. "You're a fucking goddess, Miyeon. You can take every inch of my cock. You can cum all over it again."

You increase your speed, your hips moving faster, your cock hitting that spot inside her that makes her scream. You can feel her pussy clenching around you, trying to keep you in, trying to milk you.

"Oh god," she moans, her voice rising in pitch. "Oh god, oh god, oh god..."

"That's it, baby," you growl. "Feel that? Feel my cock hitting your g-spot? You're gonna cum for me again. You're gonna squirt all over my cock."

"I'm so close... I'm so clo—OH GOD!" she cries out, her body tensing, her pussy gripping you like a vice.

You can feel her right on the edge, her body coiled tight, ready to snap. You lean down, your teeth finding her earlobe, biting down just hard enough to send a shockwave through her.

"Cum for me, Miyeon," you command, your voice low and rough. "Fucking let go. Let me feel that pussy explode. Let me see that squirt. Do it, baby. Fucking do it now."

She screams, her body convulsing, her eyes rolling back in her head. "I'm cumm—AAAAH!"

You can feel it, hot and wet, gushing out of her, coating your cock, dripping down your balls. You keep fucking her, drawing out her orgasm, making her scream with each thrust.

"That's it, baby," you groan. "Fuck, that's so good. You're squirting all over my cock. You're such a good girl, Miyeon. Such a fucking good girl."

Her body is shaking, her pussy still pulsing around you. You slow your thrusts, letting her ride out her orgasm, letting her come down slowly. You're about to cum, right on the edge, but you hold back again. This is about her.

This is about Miyeon.

You gently pull out of her, your cock still hard and glistening with her cum. You move down her body, your tongue tracing a path down her stomach, down to her pussy, your hands stroking her thighs, your touch gentle and soothing.

The bed beneath her is a fucking mess—sheets soaked through, the scent of sex heavy in the air. You can see the wet spot spreading, a testament to her pleasure.

"Fuck, baby," you murmur, your voice soft but filled with awe. "Look at this mess you made. You're so fucking sexy."

Miyeon's breath hitches as she looks down at the wet sheets, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and satisfaction. "I... I didn't know I could do that," she admits, her voice shaky. "It felt... god, it felt so fucking good."

You smile, your fingers tracing patterns on her inner thighs, feeling the slickness of her cum. "You squirted, baby. You fucking squirted all over my cock. It was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

She shivers, her body still sensitive from the intense orgasm. "I've never... I've never felt anything like that before. It was like... like my whole body just let go."

You lean in, your tongue lapping at her pussy, tasting her, cleaning her up. She jolts, her hips bucking slightly, but you hold her steady, your hands gripping her thighs.

"Shh, baby," you soothe. "Let me take care of you. Let me clean you up."

She relaxes, her body melting into the bed as you take your time, your tongue exploring every inch of her pussy. You can feel her shivering, her body responding to your touch. The taste of her is intoxicating, a mix of sweet and salty, pure fucking heaven.

"You taste so fucking good, Miyeon," you murmur, your voice low and husky. "I could do this all fucking night."

She moans softly, her fingers tangling in your hair. "It feels so good... I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I squirted."

You look up at her, your eyes meeting hers. She's watching you, her eyes soft and hazy with pleasure. You smile, your tongue giving her one last lick.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Miyeon," you whisper. "God, you're so fucking perfect…"

"But you haven't come yet," she suddenly notes.

"You're right. And where do you want my cum, princess?" You ask.

"On my face... want to taste you..."

"Fuck... Okay. Yeah, right. Get on your knees, baby,” you ask her as you quickly remove the condom.

Miyeon looks up at you with those innocent eyes as she kneels before you, her pretty face flushed with arousal. Her lips are already swollen from all the kissing, making them look even more cock-hungry than usual. You grab a fistful of her silky black hair, guiding her face closer to your throbbing shaft.

"Open that pretty mouth for me baby," you command, tapping your cock head against her plump lips. "I want to see how deep you can take it."

She parts her lips obediently, sticking out her pink tongue to lap at your sensitive tip. The sight of your precum glistening on her tongue makes your cock throb with need. You slowly feed her more of your length, watching in satisfaction as her lips stretch around your girth.

"Mmmmph," she moans around your cock, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. She clearly loves having her mouth filled, eagerly sucking and slurping as you push deeper.

You start with slow, shallow thrusts, letting her get used to your size. Her tongue swirls expertly around your shaft as you slide in and out between those perfect lips. Wet sucking sounds fill the room along with her muffled moans.

"That's it baby, take my cock," you growl, tightening your grip in her hair. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."

She responds by taking you deeper, relaxing her throat to accommodate more of your length. Tears form in the corners of her eyes as you hit the back of her throat, but she doesn't pull away.

If anything, she seems even more eager.

You pick up the pace slightly, fucking her mouth with measured strokes. Her lipstick is getting smeared all over your cock, marking it with traces of red. The sight of her face getting messy already has your balls tightening.

"Such a good little cocksucker," you praise, watching her cheeks hollow with suction. "You love having your pretty face fucked don't you?"

She nods as best she can with your cock stuffed in her mouth, humming in agreement. The vibrations send pleasure shooting through your shaft.

You pull out briefly to let her catch her breath, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your cock head. She gasps for air but immediately opens wide again, eager for more. Her face is already a mess of smeared makeup and drool.

"Please fuck my face harder," she begs, voice hoarse. "I want you to use my mouth like a pussy."

You don't need to be asked twice. Gripping her head firmly with both hands, you slam your cock back between her lips. This time you don't hold back, setting a brutal pace as you fuck her throat. She gags and chokes but takes it like a champ, her eyes watering heavily.

The wet sounds of her throat getting pounded are absolutely obscene. Drool runs down her chin and neck as you use her mouth roughly. Her hands grip your thighs for support but she doesn't try to pull away or slow you down.

"Fuck yes, take that cock," you grunt, watching your shaft disappear repeatedly into her willing mouth. "Going to paint that pretty face white soon."

She moans eagerly around your length, clearly excited by the promise of a facial. You can feel your orgasm building as her throat muscles massage your sensitive head.

Your thrusts become more erratic as you get closer to the edge. Her face is an absolute mess now - mascara running down her cheeks, lipstick completely ruined, drool everywhere. She looks utterly debauched and you haven't even cum yet.

"Get ready baby," you warn, feeling your balls tighten. "Going to cover that beautiful face."

You pull out just in time, the slick heat of her lips giving way as you grip your shaft tightly, aiming at Miyeon's upturned face. Her mouth is already open, tongue stretched out, her eyes locked on yours with a look of pure, desperate need. "Give it to me," she breathes, her voice thick with anticipation. The sight of her waiting so hungrily for your release sends a jolt through you, your cock twitching violently in your hand.

With a guttural groan, you let go, the first rope of hot cum splattering across her forehead and sliding down to her nose. She gasps softly, her breath hitching as the next thick jet paints her cheek, followed by another streaking across the bridge of her nose. Your hand works your shaft steadily, aiming with intent, making sure to glaze her perfect lips thoroughly, the creamy mess dripping onto her tongue as she moans in satisfaction.

She doesn’t flinch—if anything, she leans into it, her tongue sweeping over her lips, savoring every drop that lands in her mouth. You’re relentless, emptying yourself onto her until her face is a masterpiece of your desire, every inch of her skin marked with your seed. Thick streaks cling to her lashes, a stray drop dangling precariously from her chin before falling onto her chest. By the time you're finished, she’s a vision of debauched perfection, her flushed cheeks and parted lips framed by the glistening evidence of your climax.

"Fuck," you mutter, your voice hoarse as you admire her. "Look at you. My perfect, filthy girl."

She moans softly, tilting her head as you bring your cock closer, your tip still sensitive but eager for more. Slowly, deliberately, you use your softening length to spread the mess across her skin. You smear the cum over her cheeks, tracing her jawline, rubbing it into her lips before sliding down to her chin. She stays perfectly still, her eyes closed, a serene smile tugging at her mouth as she basks in the attention.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” you whisper, your voice thick with awe. “That pretty face deserves to be covered in my cum every day.”

Her lashes flutter as she peeks up at you, her voice soft but dripping with satisfaction. “I’ll let you paint me whenever you want. I love how it feels... so warm, so dirty.”

Your thumb moves to her lips, smearing the last of the cum over them before pushing lightly into her mouth. She sucks on it obediently, her tongue flicking against your skin, her moan vibrating through your thumb.

When you finally pull back, you grab a handful of tissues, leaning down to clean her face. You start gently, dabbing at her cheeks and lips, but you can’t help but pause to admire her wrecked state—the messy hair, her flushed skin, her swollen, cock-bruised lips. Even as you clean her, the heat between you lingers, your touch lingering on her skin as she smiles up at you.

"You’re mine, Miyeon," you blurt out unconsciously, but there’s no mistaking the edge in your voice.

"Yours," she repeats, her voice a dreamy whisper. "Yeah, I'm yours.”

—

After changing the sheets on the bed, you both collapse onto the fresh, clean mattress, exhausted but content. You pull Miyeon close, her body fitting perfectly against yours as you snuggle together. The room is quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the window.

Miyeon props herself up on an elbow, looking down at you with those dark, beautiful eyes. "So... this isn't just a one-time thing, right?" she asks, her voice soft but hopeful.

You pull her in for a kiss, your lips lingering on hers. "Definitely not," you murmur against her mouth. "Unless you want it to be?"

"No!" she says quickly, then blushes, her cheeks turning a cute shade of pink. "I mean... I really like you. Like, really really like you."

You smile, your heart swelling in your chest. "Good, because I really really like you too," you say. "Even when you're not dressed as an elf."

She groans, hiding her face in your neck. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?" she mumbles, her voice muffled.

You chuckle, your arms tightening around her. "Nope. It's how we met, it's part of our love story now."

She goes still in your arms, her body tensing slightly.

"Love story?" She asks

Shit. Too soon? You think to yourself, wondering if you've fucked up. But then she's beaming up at you with that bright smile that first caught your attention, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Yeah," you say softly. "Love story."

She kisses you again, pouring all her feelings into it. When she pulls back, her eyes are sparkling with happy tears. "Best Christmas present ever," she declares, her voice filled with joy.

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 2 - Show Me This Life

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe. 7.5k words. You’re trying to learn more about yourself and the people around you, which is easier said then done, especially now you’re moving across the country. At least you can trust them right..?

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (scenting), talking about periods, alcohol, language, mentions of past abuse, nightmares, angst.

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

“Professor?” He’s not listening to the downright annoying voice behind him. His hands balled in fists as he looks at the broken earth. They came as quickly as they left. He sniffs the air. 4 of them, all men, and the omega she’s gone too. He can’t smell her death in the air. There is no point in a clean up effort, even if there was it could take months. The omega is gone. That’s his priority, to find her and take her back. 

“Professor?” 

“What!?” He snaps turning round to see Miles stood behind him gripping a tablet. He watches the alphas eyes dilate as the scent of anger fills the air. He doesn’t want to see him right now, or anyone. He wants his omega.

“It was the CIA.” He says reaching out with a tablet. The professor grabs it out his hand looking at the profile. 

“Who is she?” His voice still filled with anger. He needs answers, he sees the name Kate Laswell. It doesn’t ring a bell. 

“I’m not sure we’re working on it.” He says. Pathetic. Useless. 

“Get out of my sight!” He shouts, thrusting the tablet in the man's hands. He turns back around as the first drops of rain are starting to fall. Now the place will be flooded too. The smell of death hangs heavy in the air. He closes his eyes breathing it in. It’s metallic, harsh, he can taste it in the air. He wonders if any of it is her blood. Her scent is fading with each gust of wind.  

Kate Laswell.

The name spins round in his head. How did the CIA find out? He thinks back to the visitors he’s had over the past few months. It could have been any of them. He’s just come back from DC to secure more funding, what was he going to tell them now? The lab is destroyed and the omega gone. His phone buzzes in his pocket. He wants to ignore it throw it into the sinking earth and forget about it. He lets it ring out watching the sky darken as heavier clouds move in, he can feel the electricity in the air making the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. 

How dare they take his omega.

Johnny comes to see you after breakfast. He always looks so cheerful, beaming as he comes over. 

“‘Mornin lass sleep well?” he asks 

“Yeah.” You reply, you had good dreams again, Dr. Piper was there too.

“Wanna go for a walk? Thought you could use a change of scenery.” He winks at you. You nod almost too enthusiastically, swinging your legs out the bed. He brings over your slippers and a dressing gown. You put them on following him out the room. He loops his arm in yours leading you out the ward and towards another building. You enjoy the fresh air and the sun on your face.  

“What’s Dr. Piper doing?” You ask, stopping to look through a door window. 

“She’s been teaching us all about you, and us I guess now we’re all in the same boat.” He says, as she’s sat typing on a laptop. John and Kate must trust her enough to give her access to a laptop, that makes you smile. 

“Think I could join?” You ask. 

“I don’t see why not, but what do you need to know about yourself?” He chuckles. You’d be surprised. You walk through the door. Piper's head looks round from the laptop and she smiles. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” She asks. 

“Fine, I would like to get out of the hospital.” You say smiling, she nods looking past you at Johnny. 

“I heard you’ve been teaching them.” You say. 

“Yes, as much as I can. I’ve been helping Kate go over the research they took from the lab.” You don’t know why that makes you swallow hard. 

“Can I join? I’d like to know more about what was going on.” You say trying not to sound nervous. She smiles. 

“Cause you can, although some things you might already know.” She says. 

“What are you talking about today?”

“Scenting, hopefully, maybe get the alpha’s to control their scent more.” 

“That would be nice.” You say before you can stop yourself. She smiles as you hear the door behind you open. The scent of alpha fills the air. It’s not John though the presence is darker. It’s Simon. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck, you’re too scared to turn, you don’t want to turn. You look at Piper, she looks sympathetically, she wont project her scent onto you, you know that. They need to get used to you and you used to them. Besides, one of them might be claiming you next month.   

“Where have you been hiding, ey?” You hear Johnny say.

“None of your business sergeant.” A gruff voice comes back. You slip down into a seat not taking your eyes off Piper. You hear a chair scrape back as Johnny sit’s down talking with him. It’s a few minutes later when you hear John and Gaz arrive. Kyle you learned his name, but he likes to be called Gaz. The smell of John’s alpha washes over you, it’s more calming then the other man, even Piper can feel it. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Gaz asks you as he sits next to you. 

“Fine.” You say smiling at him. You look back over at Piper as she begins her lesson. 

A lot of the information you already know, how scent works, where it comes from. Alpha’s have the strongest scent but also have the hardest time controlling it. Betas are very good at controlling scent and masking, it’s common for beta’s to use their scent to calm alphas and omegas. Omegas are the best at detecting scent, it’s a defense mechanism at the end of the day. Being able to smell the threat before it’s right next to you.

“You’ve all scented the omega, what about each other.” She says stepping to the side. “Any volunteers.” You almost step up automatically but instead it’s John who steps up. Piper walks around him. 

“Kyle.” She motions at him, he steps up. 

“Stretch your neck your, your hormones will do the rest. Remember the scent comes from the back of your neck.” She explains. You watch as Price bears his neck towards Gaz. His nostrils flare as he breathes the scent in. The scent of his alpha fills the room, you can see Gaz wobble as he breathes it in. It makes you chuckle, the memory of new betas passing out after scenting you or an alpha. Doctor Piper moves to pull Gaz away and she helps him back to a seat. He looks out of it, and John won’t be the only alpha he has to scent today.

“Who’s next?” She asks the room, her eyes landing on you for a second. You get up walking over to him. You’ve only ever scented one alpha before. The professor, John’s scent is already overwhelming enough. You get up going towards him, he smiles at you, it helps put you at ease as you reach up. He’s taller then you and you have to step up on your toes. 

“Scenting each other is important for packs, once each member has gone through the process of projecting their scent onto one another it creates a bond between you all.” She explains. A pack. You never thought you could be part of a pack before. You close your eyes leaning in to scent him. 

“The ground after rain.” He says quietly as his scent fills your nose. You slowly open your eyes, your mouth hanging open, pupils dilated.

The ground after rain and smoke, that’s John’s scent.

You smile at him, you don’t need Piper's help to get back to your seat. John’s eyes stay on you as you sit down.

The next few minutes you’re blissed out enjoying the alpha’s scent, it’s calming, safe. It’s only when John’s finished you start paying attention. The two beta’s go next if not just to give you all a break. It’s followed by an explanation of masking, the ability to hide your scent, betas are the best at it. You feel the energy in the room change when Simon eventually walks next to Piper. 

“Two alpha’s in a pack is unusual, doesn’t mean it cannot work though.” She says, you can tell she doesn’t seem that confident. John goes first then Gaz and Johnny. It’s only you left. You get out your chair walking over to him slowly. His scent is strong, he looks down at you through his mask as you tip your head up to him. He bares his scent for you. The ground after rain and something you can’t name, it’s metallic, it makes a lump form in your throat.  

You back up from him, he’s not as scary as he seems now. He makes your head spin as he turns to look at you, his eyes meeting yours. He has dark brown eyes, you let out a breath, smiling at him. You feel Pipers hand on your arm. Goosebumps rise on the back of your neck. You turn going back over to your seat. 

“Okay, that wasn’t so bad.” Piper continues as she presses her hands together. “The calmer you are, the less prominent your scent is. If you’re stressed or upset you’ll have a harder time controlling it.” You look over at Simon, he sat down next to John instead of going to the back of the room.

You stop listening to Piper, keeping your eyes on him. What was the other smell, the ground after rain, something else, thick and heavy, harsh as it hit your nose. You flare your nostrils trying to breath him in but you can’t smell him anymore. 

Dr. Piper talks about masking and how to spot it. She says as soon as there is a beta specialist here, they will be able to help them more, she can only do so much. You know from your own experience that a lot of things are just instinct. The last thing she talks about is scruffing.

A pit forms in your stomach, you’ve never had good experience with that. That’s the point though you’re not supposed to. You remember back in the bunker, the professor would sometimes do it for no reason, sometimes for hours on end. Your hand goes up to the back of your neck. 

“For alpha’s and beta’s it’ll just feel like someone has jolted you, or hit you hard in the back of the neck, it’s painful. For omega’s it’s completely immobilising. It’s only to be used in extreme situations, I personally would argue there should never be a reason to do it. There are less invasive ways to subdue someone without resorting to scruffing.” She looks round the room, her eyes landing on you. You would happily go the rest of your life without being scruffed again. 

The door to the room opens and you turn to see Kate walk in with a tablet in her hand. Dr. Piper wraps up her speech moving back over to her laptop as Kate walks up to hand the tablet to John. You’re watching them as you hear Johnny move to sit next to you wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 

“So what do I smell like?” He asks. You smile, breathing him in. 

“You smell like clean sheets, straight out the dryer.” You say. 

“That’s boring, anything else?”  He asks huffing. 

“It’s a good smell, a nice smell, safe.” You reply smiling. You’ve always felt safe around betas. You both watch as John get’s up pressing something on the tablet. 

“We’re going to be moving to Washington.” 

“DC?” Johnny asks. 

“The state.” John says.

“Lot’s of rain, you'll be right at home.” Kate says. Dr. Piper looks over from the laptop. You watch her eyes flick between Kate and John. 

“I’m sure it won’t take you long to pack?” He asks looking round the room. Johnny and Gaz are already on their feet. 

“C’mon love, I’ll take you back.” Johnny says holding his hand out for you. 

“It’s okay, i’ve got it.” Dr. Piper says smiling. Johnny winks at you before he leaves with Gaz. You’re not sure what all the winking is about, but it makes you smile, heat rushing to your cheeks. Once the room is empty Dr. Piper comes to sit next to you. She rests her hand on your thigh. 

“I have some clothes for you so you’re not suck wearing hospital scrubs all the time.” You smile at her nodding.

“You did well today, you should be proud of yourself.” She says squeezing your leg. 

“Simon is intimidating.” You admit still thinking about his scent, the scent you can’t place. 

“He’s an alpha, you’ll get used to him.” She says standing up. 

“Let’s go get you changed and something to eat before we leave.” She holds her hand out for you. You take it as she picks the laptop up. 

“You’ll like Washington.” She says. “It’s by the ocean, lots of evergreen forests and sea air.” You smile at her, that does sound nice. 

You’ve never been on a plane before. It’s massive, bigger then you expected, it’s a cargo plane. You can’t help staring at it in awe, you watch soldiers driving crates up into it. You see Kate and John talking outside the ramp of the plane you stick close to Dr. Piper letting her lead you up to them. Kate turns to look at you. 

“It was nice to meet you, I’m sure we will see each other again at some point.” Kate says, reaching her hand out. 

“You’re not coming with us?” You ask, she shakes her head. 

“No, I'm needed elsewhere, I’ll be in touch though.” She smiles. You feel sad she’s leaving at least you had one other woman around. Piper’s hand presses on your back leading you into the plane. You’re looking all over the place, something always pulling your eyes in a new direction. Piper walks you to the front of the plane through a door into a room with what you recognise as ‘normal’ seating. Johnny and Gaz are already sat down talking. 

“Hey lass come sit with us! We’ll let you have the window seat!” Johnny calls waving at you. You turn to Dr. Piper who nods at you smiling. Johnny and Gaz move, letting you sit by the window. 

“Excited?” Johnny asks, sitting back down next to you. 

“Nervous, I’ve never been on a plane before. Does it go fast?” You ask. Gaz chuckles. 

“Oh yeah, like hundreds of miles an hour.” He says nodding. You swallow looking back out the window. You can see people walking around, driving around in strange looking vehicles. 

“How long will it take?”

“About 4 hours.” Johnny says. You look back over at them, looking past Johnny at Gaz. His head is turned away from you as he looks out the window in the other aisle. 

“You know I had an aunt who was afraid of flying.” Johnny says. You turn to frown at him. 

“I’m not scared.” You say. Johnny smiles. 

“Well if you do get scared you can hold my hand.” Johnny winks. 

“Christ.” You hear Gaz chuckle. You hear the door open and see John and Simon walking in taking seats behind you. 

“LT’s scared of heights.” Johnny says nudging you. You hear him sigh behind you. You can tell it’s not true but you smile anyway, you know he’s just trying to put you at ease. You watch out the window as you hear all kinds of banging and new noises. When the plane starts to roll back you feel strangely nervous. You can tell Johnny picks up on it nudging you to pull your attention to him. 

“This is the best part you know.” He says putting his hand out palm up, you lace your fingers with his without thinking. He gives your hand a squeeze as the plane turns. You hear the engines start then before you know it the plane is barrelling down the runway. You squeeze Johnny’s hand way too tight until you feel the plane lift off the ground. As soon as that happens you relax. 

“See, not so bad.” Johnny says nudging you. You nod at him before looking back out the window, watching the ground get further and further away. You watch the plane go through the clouds as it turns, making your stomach drop. You squeeze Johnny’s hand tighter, there’s a quick stabbing pain in your side as you rearrange your position. 

“Do you have any family?” You ask Johnny without looking away from the window. 

“Yeah, you?” You weren't expecting him to ask you. You turn to him, pulling your hand out his. 

“I don’t remember my dad. My mum liked to bake, I have this memory of her. It was a sunny day, she always smelled of apple’s or cinnamon.” He has a sad look in his eyes. You don’t want him feeling sorry for you. You look back out the window. 

“What happened to them?” Johnny asks. 

“They died.” You say. There’s another scent in the air, it makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You know that scent, it’s Simon. 

When you land, you travel a few hours on the road to get to the base. The whole place is surrounded by dense woodland. It makes you happy seeing so much nature. It's an army base but it's deep in the forest. You saw the ocean Dr. Piper was talking about while the plane was landing.

You've never seen an ocean before.

When you get into the barracks the smell of fresh paint hits your nose. The walls are bare and tall, there are windows with grates over them. You’re walking into a sparsely furnished living room, a sofa, a dining table and chairs. There’s a TV, you’ve not seen one of those in years. A kitchen in the corner, it’s only a small with a sink, fridge and oven. 

Apparently this building is just for you and them, the people who saved you. 141, you've heard people call them.

“Ooo, fancy.” Johnny says as he comes in behind you throwing his bag down. You move to let the rest of them come in. Fluorescent lights flicker on and you walk in looking round. There’s a corridor that leads to an emergency exit. 

“I call the biggest room.” Johnny calls from behind you. 

“You can’t just call a room.” Gaz says. 

“Yeah, says who?” Johnny asks going over to the sofa with Gaz following after him. John’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you go pick first?” He says watching Gaz look inside the kettle. You turn to look at him as he moves his hand. He nods you in the direction of the hallway. You smile at him and head down. 

The first two rooms are an office and what looks like a shared bathroom. You continue down to the next two rooms. They’re both bedrooms, they’re pretty much identical, a bed, a wardrobe and a desk. You keep going all the way to the end of the hallway, there are 6 rooms 3 on each side. You find yourself at the last room to the left. It has a massive window looking out over a field, you can see the walls of the base. 

You walk in the room running your fingers over the desk. It’s bigger then any room you’ve ever had before. You look in the distance through the window, you can see trees, more trees then you’ve ever seen. You're surrounded by an evergreen forest. It makes you happy, maybe you could convince John to let you explore it one day. You lift the handle on the window. It only opens a small amount but you can smell the fresh air, hear the trees swaying in the wind. This is your room. 

“What do you think?” You turn to look at Dr. Piper standing in the doorway. You smile going over to her. 

“I like it.” You say. 

“Wait till you see the lab they’ve got ready for me.” She smiles. You close the door behind you as you leave, locking it and pulling the key out. You look at the room opposite you, Dr. Piper's bag is already on the bed. You’re happy she’s going to be close to you. You make your way back down to the common room where you can hear laughing and talking. It makes you smile. You haven’t been in an environment like this before. 

“Tea?” Gaz asks from the tiny kitchen. You blink at him, looking as he stands there with mugs in his hand. 

“I’ve never had tea before.” You say walking over to him. 

“Want to try it?” He asks, you look at the bags in the cups as he pours the water in. The smell fills your nose, it's herbal. You nod watching him spoon sugar into some of the cups. He pushes one towards you then reaches into the fridge taking out some milk. You hear the door to the building open turning to see Simon walk in. He walks over to Piper and hands her something. She thanks him as he walks away. His eyes meet yours and you smile at him. You wish you could see if he was smiling back. At least he’s not sending shivers up your spine any more. 

“Want to come see the lab?” Piper asks coming back over to you. Gaz pushes a mug in your hands. You shake your head. 

“I’m going to try tea.” You say smiling and following Gaz over to the sofa. Piper smiles. 

“I’ll see you in a bit then.” She nods at you heading out. You sit down on one of the sofa chairs. 

“This is rubbish, all these channels are American, how are we supposed to watch the footy now?” Johnny says as you watch him flick through the channels. You warm your hands on the mug pulling your legs up onto the chair. You blow on the tea waiting for it to cool, Johnny lands on a news channel. You watch it mesmerised by what’s happening. You get distracted by John coming out of the office, he walks over to pick up a mug and comes over to see what’s on the TV. 

“What do you think?” He asks looking at you, you look confused for a second then you remember the tea. You bring it up and take a sip. It’s warm and milky, you can’t place the flavor but it’s sweet. You nod at him and he smiles. 

“Where did Dr. Montgomery go?” He asks. 

“She went to the lab.” Johnny says without looking up from the remote. You take another sip of the tea, your stomach growls and you realise how hungry you are. John checks his watch. 

“You should all get something to eat before the mess closes.” Johnny jumps up off the sofa while Gaz downs the rest of the tea. You place your half drunk cup on the coffee table with the others. 

“C’mon lass before they eat all the cake.” You smile at that. 

“Is there really going to be cake?” You hear John laugh as Johnny throws his arm over your shoulder. When you get to the dining hall there are still a few people hanging out. You pick up a tray following Johnny and Gaz’s lead. You see foods you’ve never seen before you want to try everything. Johnny recommends things and you end up with two plates of food. And 2 servings of chocolate pudding which you end up eating first. Johnny and Gaz chuckle at you while you go round your plates trying a little of everything until you’re full. 

You eat so much you feel like you can’t move when you’re done. Johnny steals one of your plates to finish off your mash. You lean back wondering why you’re so hungry, you count in your head again. It’s definitely not your heat. There’s the stabbing pain again. It’s not in your side anymore it’s in your abdomen. 

Shit. It’s already the end of the month, your period should be any day now.

You sigh, you’ll need to tell Piper and ask her for a mattress protector. You don’t think John would be happy if you ruined the bed on the first night. You listen to Johnny and Gaz talking about past missions. You can’t help but catch people looking at you. It makes you feel self-conscious, you feel like Johnny and Gaz can pick up on it too because before they start a new anecdote they decide to leave. 

It’s late evening as you’re leaving the mess hall with Gaz. Johnny said he needed to ‘hit the gym’ so you were left alone with Gaz. You don’t mind, following him as he leads you across the grounds back towards the barracks. 

“Do you have a family?” You ask him trying to distract yourself. 

“Yeah, a big one actually.” He says smiling. You smile back at him. 

“Do they all live in the UK?” 

“Yeah London.” He smiles. 

“Do you miss them?” 

“All the time.” He sounds sad, you feel bad. “I can show you some photos, I have some in my room.” You nod seeing him smile. There’s the pain again, a stabbing pain in your bowels. You stop, Gaz stops too turning to you. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah, I just need to see Dr. Piper.” You say. You look over at the red brick building. 

“That’s where the lab is right?” You ask. Gaz nods.

“Want me to come with you?” You shake your head smiling at him. 

“I’m good.” You say walking off towards the building. 

Dr. Piper is filling up a cupboard with new lab supplies when a door slams closed, making her jump. She turns looking round the lab. 

“Hello?” She calls, gripping the test tube rack. She takes a breath in. Alpha. 

“John?” She asks, looking round the stack of boxes. She takes a step back backing up into something. The contact makes her jump, spinning round to see Simon standing behind her.

“Jesus, have they thought about putting a bell on you lieutenant?” She breathes feeling relieved. He hums making his way round to the other side of the table. 

“Price wanted me to come and see if there was anything you needed?” She can’t read his expression under his mask. He has such a looming presence in the room, John told her Simon was taking the changes the hardest. She only had time to quickly look over the files John had given her on him, maybe there would be some answers in there. Maybe she could get him to talk. 

“I think I’m good, got enough equipment in here, we're going to give the CDC a run for their money.” She says trying to lighten the mood. He looks at her nodding. A man of few words, along with his overpowering alpha sent, he’s always the most intimidating person in the room. 

“Has John made any progress on finding the people I recommended?” She doesn’t expect an answer from him but she’s already decided she’s going to get him to talk to her. 

“Working on it.” He says looking in a box of supplies. She nods, pressing her lips together. She tries to remember what she learned in her psychology classes. Her eyes follow the bulking figure around as he heads over to the door of her office.  

“What made you work for someone like the Professor?” He asks, she smiles, keeping her distance. 

“I agreed with his original vision for the project. I was fresh out of med school, he was offering a unique career path.” She explains watching to see his reaction. He’s good at hiding it, he’ll be a good alpha.

“What changed?” 

“He started getting more extreme. His experiments getting more and more unethical. He started to lose track of his goals.” She moves over to open another box of lab supplies. 

“Why didn’t he kill you?” He asks, walking towards her. 

“I was close with the omega, the professor had broken his bond with her. She needed someone safe, she could trust-”

“So he could keep torturing her.” He cuts her off, she looks up at him, his arms crossed. His eyes are digging into her, she can feel the anger in the air let alone smell it. 

“I’m a doctor first, I never hurt her.” 

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.” He says, his words harsh causing her to sigh and close the box up. 

“Like you’ve never killed anyone.” She scoffs.

“I’m a soldier.” 

“I’m a doctor.” 

“Just because you didn’t pull the trigger doesn’t mean you haven’t killed people.” He says 

“She’s alive, that's all that matters!” Piper snaps. 

“And that makes you think you’re different then him?” He scoffs. Piper shakes her head, taking a step over to him. 

“You don’t get to judge me. I did what I had to do to keep her safe, alive.” She says, tipping her head to the side watching his expression. His scent doesn’t change. His eyes are still digging into her. 

“I read the report, over 15 years she was down there.” His voice is low, it makes the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. 

“You don’t get to judge me.” Piper repeats, she can’t lose her confidence now. He shakes his head, his anger is heavy in the air. She should back down, everything in her body tells her to run and hide from him. 

“You haven’t told her about the professor yet?” He asks. Shit, she was hoping to avoid this conversation. She lets out a sigh.

“Did John ask that?” She asks. He doesn’t say anything, she stands her ground. 

“You say you’re one of the good guys but what else doesn't she know? Does she know who he is?” His alpha is on full display, his scent thick in the air. It makes her back down, she can’t avoid it this time. He shakes his head. 

“Her own father, christ, she should at least know he’s alive.” 

“Why do you care so much?” Piper says backing up, she doesn’t want to but she can’t help it. A new scent fills her nose. Omega. 

You step out from round the corner. Hugging your chest, tears in your eyes. Simon and Piper both turn to you. You feel like you can’t breathe, you stare, mouth hanging open as they watch you waiting to see what you’ll do. 

Your dad. It can’t be real. He wanted to claim you. 

You feel sick, you can’t even remember what you needed from her now. You take a step back, before you know it your body is turned and you’re sprinting out the room. You sprint as fast as you can across the grass back towards the barracks. You don’t stop, throwing yourself through the door. You don’t even register Gaz calling you as you rush past him to your room. You slam the door, turning the lock. You brace yourself on the desk sucking in gulps of air. Your lungs are burning.

He’s your father. 

He’s alive.

There’s noise in the hallway.

“What happened?” It’s John’s voice. You can smell the alpha in the air. Simon is here too. Someone tries the door handle. Then there’s a knock. Dr. Piper calls your name. She is the last person you want to see. She’s knocking on the door. 

“Go away!” You shout, your voice breaks. 

“He’s not your biological father, he married your mother to get to you!” Piper calls through the door. You don’t care, you're angry you want to scream. You go over to the door pulling it open. It almost knocks Piper off her feet. 

“That makes it better then, he just groomed me instead! Why don’t I remember him!” You snap. You look round at everyone standing in the hall. Your eyes flick to John, he looks confused, worried, they all do.

“It was a side effect of the first formula, it effected your memory.” She says. 

“I remember my mother.” You say. Dr. Piper shakes her head. 

“Who do you think of when you think of her?” She asks sympathetically. You think of the memories, of her baking, you playing in the house on the hill. It’s a sunny summers evening, you can even imagine the birds singing in the trees.  

“My mum, the house on the hill-.”

“With the pies, it’s a summer evening.” Piper finishes. She reaches out to grip your shoulders. You flinch but she holds you in place looking into your eyes. 

“Think hard about who you see when you think of your mother.” You close your eyes out of spite. You try to imagine her face but you can’t. You let out another sob, why can’t you picture her face. She’s always so real in your head, the pies, the garden.

You squeeze your eyes. It’s Dr. Piper, she’s who you see, she’s who you always think of when you think of your mother. You open your eyes, you can hardly see her through your tears. You back away from her. 

“She was so real.” You say between sobs. 

“I know, she had to be. You needed something to cling onto. Something to keep you grounded.” She says, taking a step forward but she doesn’t enter your room. 

“You lied to me!” You shout at her wiping your tears away. You’re angry, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this angry. 

“We did what we had to do to keep you safe.” She says, you can hear the pleading in her voice. 

“We? You mean you and the professor.” You say dropping your shoulders. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, you trusted her. You want to hate her, you wish you could hate her. You turn back to look at her, she looks sad, you can smell the sincerity in the air. You want to scream at her, you want to be mad, you never want to see her again. You rub the back of your neck. You feel betrayed. 

“I’m so sorry.” She says. You don’t want to see her anymore. You reach over and slam the door in her face. You wish you had a nest you could crawl up in. You don’t even have that. You hear their voices from the other side of the door.

You don’t care, you throw yourself into the bed pulling the covers over your head. For the first time you wish you were back in the bunker. Back in the tiny room you called home for the most of your life. You close your eyes. You wish you could think of your mother but the memories are tainted now. 

...

When you wake it’s dark out, the window is still cracked open and you can hear the wind blowing through the crack. Your head feels heavy, your throat dry, you get out of bed. The room is cold but you leave the window open, you want to smell the fresh air. You take a breath opening the door, Dr. Pipers door is closed, all the doors are, there’s no noise in the building now.

The only light you can see is coming out the bottom of the office. You take a deep breath in as you pass it, it’s John. You go into the kitchen looking through the cupboards for a glass. You hear the office door open as you run the tap. John sticks his head round the corner, you watch his nostrils flair. You don’t care that you smell distressed, it must be strong enough for him to pick up on it though. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks as you sip the water. 

“Fine,” it’s a lie, you don’t really know how you feel. He takes a step towards you. 

“We were going to tell you, Dr. Montgomery  thought you should get settled in first.” He says, you put the glass in the sink. 

“It’s okay, I’m sorry I acted the way I did.” You say, you don’t know why you feel like you have to apologise but you made a scene. You’re not supposed to do that. Omega’s are to be seen and not heard. The professor's words spin round in your head. 

“Don’t be silly, come on I have something for you.” He says, you nod following him. He goes into his office, the room is smaller then the bedroom, there’s just enough room for the desk, a sofa and some filing cabinets. Everything is still in boxes though as he bends down picking something up off the sofa. He turns handing you a pile of pillows and blankets. 

“Dr. Montgomery said you might want to nest.” He sounds unsure what that means, you reach out taking the pile in your arms. You want to still be mad at her. She’s right though, you want a nest. It makes you nervous as you look up at John, the last nest you made was destroyed. John would never do that, you trust him. 

“Thank you.” You say feeling the soft fabric. You wish you could run off and make a nest in the forest, surrounded by nature where you can watch the birds. Maybe high up in a tree somewhere where no one can reach you. 

“If you want some space from her I can keep her busy.” You look up at him. You wish it was that simple.

“We’re bonded, if I’m away from her for too long I get moody, sad, lonely.” You wish you could explain it, the feeling of not being with someone you bonded with. He’ll understand, if he claims you, that’s the strongest bond there is. It’s the same reason you can’t bring yourself to hate her, no matter what she’s done. 

“If there is anything you need you just have to ask.” He says his hand comes up to squeeze your shoulder. You breathe him in, his calming alpha scent fills your nose. You trust him, you feel safe around him. 

“Thank you.” You say as his hand drops, he smiles at you. 

“You should get some rest, it's late and we have a lot to do tomorrow.” You nod, turning to leave. You make it to the door hearing him following behind you. 

“John,” you stop swallowing the nerves. “Do you think maybe one day we could go for a walk in the forest?” He’s going to say no, why did you even ask? You squeeze the pile of bedding biting the inside of your cheek. His hand lands on the small of your back as he pushes you through the door turning the light off and locking the door. 

“Maybe, I’ll see what I can work out.” He says. You smile walking down towards your room. You turn back to look at him walking into his room, it’s right next to the office. He smiles at you as you walk through your door. You dump the pile down under the window. You wish it would open more so you could stick your head out and breathe in the cold night air. This would be a nice place to build a nest, you’re too tired now though. You leave the curtains open and climb back into bed. You can see out to the sky from the bed, there is no moon tonight, but you can see stars. You’ve never seen stars before, it makes you smile. 

You dream you’re walking through the forests with John. It’s warm but the sun is broken up by trees. You can hear the birds singing up in the trees. The air is thick with electricity, you end up by a lake. The sky is dark, there are rumbles of thunder in the distance. John comes up behind you, his hands land on your shoulders. His hands are strong, firm as they squeeze you.

You lean back pressing your back against his chest. You close your eyes as the scent of his alpha fills your nose and you relax into him. There’s another crash of thunder, it shakes you and your eyes flash open. There’s no lake anymore, John’s gone too. You smell apple pie, when you turn the forest is gone and replaced by the house, the house on the hill. You try to back away but something is stopping you. Hands grip your arm nails digging into your skin. 

“Why are you trying to run?” The voice is low and harsh in your ear sending shivers up your spine. It’s the professor, he’s forcing you to walk towards the house. You try to stop but he picks you up in his arms, you kick and thrash trying to claw at his skin. He laughs, his arms wrapping round you tighter. The smell of pie is replaced with the overwhelming smell of blood.

You can hear Dr. Piper’s voice. It takes you all your energy to push against him in a last ditch effort to escape. It doesn’t matter though, he lets out a deep laugh, his hand coming round to grip the back of your neck. You scream as pain radiates down your spine, your body goes limp, you can’t fight it, you try to call out but your breath catches in your throat and everything goes black. 

the whisky wasn’t cutting it. It’s his second glass and his nerves were higher then they had ever been. He’d been ignoring calls all day, leaving it to his assistant, his prodigy; Miles Ashford. He’s spent the past year as his assistant. At first he wasn’t sure why he kept him around, but he needed someone to keep his work up to date above ground. He’d promised him an omega, once he had perfected the formula. He was so close. He stood up, downing the rest of the glass, the alcohol burnt his throat. He was so close, almost perfect. There’s a knock at the door. He walks over to the drinks cabinet again reaching in and taking the bottle of whisky out. 

“Come in!” He calls. He watches as the door creaks open and Miles walks in. He walks in slowly, making sure he’s definitely allowed in before closing the door behind him. The professor sits down behind his desk. 

“I spoke to your contact at the CIA. He knows who Laswell is.” Miles put a folder down on the table. “She’s been on vacation for the past week.” 

“Red herring?” The professor asks, pouring whisky in his glass. Miles shakes his head.

“She was investigating you but Shepherd did his job, threw her off the scent then she went on vacation.” Miles puts another folder on the table. The Professor recognises it straight away. Doctor Piper Montgomery. 

“She’s been putting feelers out for old staff members. I think she’s searching for someone.” He says. The professor picks his glass up. 

“I should have put the bitch down when I had a chance.” He says, shaking his head. “Where is she?” 

“She was in New York but now she’s missing.” Miles says, the professor's eyes dig into him as he thinks taking a sip of the whisky. He lets out a long sigh. 

“Find out who she’s talking with and why. If you find her, kill her.” 

“What about the CIA?” Miles asks. 

“I think General Shepherd is capable of keeping that under control.” He lets out another sigh. Miles nods, he turns to leave the professor looks down at the file on the table. He looks at the image of Piper sticking out. Anger boils up inside him as he finishes the drink. Fucking bitch. He should have killed her when he had the chance. This is her doing he can smell it from a mile away.

He grips the desk slamming the glass down as hard as he can. It shatters the broken glass digs into his hand, ripping the flesh. He grits his teeth at the pain bringing his palm up to his mouth. He can already feel the flesh trying to repair itself.

He pulls the picture out the file. It’s a picture of you and Piper. You’re looking at her, your expression soft, his thumb runs over your face. There’s an aching in him. He needs you back, he needs to claim you. He’s going to find you, no matter what it takes. 

Next

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

Special thank you yet again to rememberwren <3

[starvrse]

MISSING YOU

| pairing : non-idol!kim minji x famous!fem reader

| summary: minji misses you and gets horny

| warnings: g!p minji, smut, jerking off using panties, lowercase, not proofread, more but i can’t think of them 😭

minji let out a heavy sigh as she entered her dorm and locked the door. it’s been 2 days since you left korea and went to paris for fashion week, and she missed you soo much.

she tried to take her mind off missing you by studying. but no matter how hard she tried to focus on her school work, her thoughts kept drifting back to you. she longed for the comfort of your embrace, the sound of your voice, and the feeling of your lips on hers. despite her best efforts, her heart ached with the loneliness of missing you.

eventually minji shut her book and leaned back in her chair, letting out a groan. thinking of a different way to get her mind off you, the kim picked up her phone and decided to scroll on random apps.

after scrolling for a while, her thoughts eventually drifted away from you. she continued mindlessly scrolled through her feed, when suddenly a post caught her attention, reading “OMG YN AT FASHION WEEK” her finger paused for a moment on the screen, mentally cursing her internet for not loading the content fast enough.

after a couple of seconds, the videos finished loading and she found herself unable to look away from the sight of you. the more she watched, the more her heart ached with longing and the more her cock started reacting.

minji lightly bit her lip as she scanned her eyes across the outfit you were wearing. the tight Chanel dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. the dress was a classic black and white houndstooth print, with a tight bodice that accentuated your small waist and full hips, and a skirt that flared out at the knees, giving it a retro yet sophisticated vibe. your hair was in a high ponytail with a side part, the style was basic yet you made it look amazing.

palming her cock while scrolling through your hashtag, the dark haired girl felt dirty and embarrassed for being so horny. turning off and putting her phone on the table, she pulled her pajamas pants and boxers down.

wrapping her hand around her hard dick, she slowly started pumping it. closing her eyes shut and letting out light sighs, minji moved her hand faster, trying her hardest to get off.

“obviously this isn’t working..” she mumbled to herself, feeling more frustrated and out of control than before. she clenched her jaw and let out a frustrated huff, knowing that she needed something more intense to finally find the release she so desperately craved.

giving up, she stands up out of her chair and makes her way to the bathroom to clean herself up. throwing her boxers in the dirty clothes bin, she catches a glimpse of the small pile of your dirty laundry that you left.

—

“this is sick…” she thinks to herself as she searches through the pile and finds a pair of your victoria secret panties. she picks them up and brings it to her nose, inhaling your scent deeply. as your familiar smell fills her senses, she closes her eyes and lets out a soft sigh.

immediately running back to her chair she picks up her phone and opens the same photo of you. setting her phone up on her books she sniffs your panties again while jerking her cock faster, staring at the picture. letting out moans and whimpers as she imagines pulling at your ponytail while your on your knees looking up at her with her cock in your mouth.

she abruptly stops everything. standing up, laying your underwear on her table, and picking up her phone while opening the camera app. she presses record with her left hand and starts pumping her dick again with her right. putting her shirt in her mouth so you can get a clear view of her abdomen, and so she doesn’t ruin her favorite shirt with cum, she lets out muffled whimpers.

finally reaching her peak, her shirt drops out her mouth, and whiny moans of your name spill out of her lips. as her nut spirts all over your panties, the desk, and the floor.

after squeezing out every last drop of cum on your underwear, her left hand shakily zooms in on her fingers spreading out her semen on them.

“i-i’m sorry for ruining your panties princess, this is what happens when i miss you.” she says, the pout evident in her voice. minji stops the video and doesn’t waste any time going to your contact and sending it, typing a “wish you were here to clean me up :(((“ after.

have you guys realized how ass i am at making titles 😭anyways we’re so back 🙂‍↕️ also sorry for the awkward ending i literally did not know how to end ts 😭😭 just use ur imagination for yns reply 🙏 REQUEST ARE OPEN OH YEAHHH KEEP ME BOOKED AND BUSY

[natalievoncatte]

Kara is buzzed when it happens. Not drunk, buzzed. A little tipsy. Not lost in the sauce, more “in her cups”. It’s been a rough day of wordsmithing and crime fighting and game night has turned into an impromptu movie night because no one has enough energy to play anything. The Settles of Catan box is gathering dust next to the Pictionary stuff and the other random games that have accumulated at Lena’s apartment ever since they all realized that she has the best bachelorette pad for hosting these things.

Instead they’re watching Twister instead of playing Twister, laughing at how cheesy it is. The movie is almost over but the night is young and Kara is unwinding, so she asks Lena for a favor.

“Can you bring me some?” she says, spotting Lena pouring wine from a box that Kara brought over.

“Sure,” Lena says.

A moment later, Lena joins her.

This moment is inportant. Kara doesn’t know it yet but it’s one of the most important. One day she will rank it in importance with the day she first saved Lena and the first time she walked into Lena’s office and a number of other firsts.

Consider this: It is a warm May night and Lena has the windows open to let the breeze in. It’s maybe seventy in the penthouse and eventually it’ll get cooler. Right now, everyone is lazing about in knockaround clothes. Kara herself is in a pair of old threadbare sweats from the DEO that she kept even after the organization disbanded because they were so comfy, and the ribbed tank she had on under her outfit at work, baring her blocky and sun-tanned shoulders.

(This is because Lena once made a comment about her big meaty shoulders after they attended a spin class together. Kara never consciously said “I’m giving Lena two tickets to the gun show”, but she has her bis and tris on display around her whenever possible anyway. Kara had no reason to flex when she’s opening a bottle of wine -or a box with a screw cap- but she does it anyway. She doesn’t need to pick up Lena’s car… you get the idea.)

Lena, for her part, is dressed in mercilessly short shorts that bare her thick thighs, and she’s put on a sweatshirt. A gray sweatshirt that has the National City university logo on it, a school she did not attend, and is two sizes too big for her. She’s put her hair up in a sloppy ponytail and has taken out her contacts in favor of a pair of rather chunky-framed glasses. She looks like a dork.

A stunning, cute, adorable, huggable, kissable dork.

Lena brings with her two blue plastic tumblers of wine, and hands one to Kara.

The couch is packed. Alex and Nia flank Kara, and their respective partners fill out the sofa. Really, someone should have saved Lena a seat in her own house. She has one in mind, though. She sits right on Kara’s lap as she hands her the wine.

It could be any number of things that cause it. She’s tired, she spiked a few of her drinks with alien rum, it’s been a long and frustrating day and she’s just not thinking right. She doesn’t have her filters in. Words just spill out.

“Good girl,” Kara says, as Lena settles in place.

The reaction is subtle, but to a Kryptonian, obvious. Lena’s heart does a little pitter-patter and she tenses just slightly, just barely, so subtly that only Kara would notice. Her pupils widen and her breath catches sharply.

Alex, seated such that she’s behind Lena, snaps her gaze to them quickly.

Kara does the only thing she reasonably can do. She presses her legs gently to either side to make sure there’s enough room and lets Lena settle in with her. The couch is one of those huge custom jobs that cost more than Kara’s apartment and every stick of furniture in it, so there’s room for Lena to comfortable position herself and lean back into Kara, sipping a bit of wine.

Everyone is else is dead silent, the only sound coming from Lena’s massive TV and theater quality sound system (so there is in fact a lot of sound)

Lena is there and she’s warm and soft, the crown of her head in perfect range for a little sniff. With not much effort Kara could press her lips to Lena’s hairline and give her a little kiss.

She’d done that once. It was after a save, when Kara was holding Lena in her arms after catching a collapsing crane on her back, shrugging off a hundred tons of twisted metal to save her Lena. It was not long after Lena came back to her and things were still weird and fragile and Lex wanted her dead and Kara was so, so scared, so wracked with pain just from knowing what Lena meant to her. The only way she could stop herself from kissing Lena, proper kissing, was by pressing her lips somewhere safe and friendly and kinda a we’re friends kiss and not a I want to marry you please never leave me again kiss.

Lena drinks the wine so fast she gulps, and she’s either thirsty or trying to calm her nerves. There’s a palpable air in the room right now, a heavy tension that’s made them all suddenly stiff and uncomfortable. They pass the rest of the movie in silence.

“Who’s up for a double feature?” Kara says, not wanting to leave but not wanting to test the terms under which she might stay.

“Not me,” Alex says. “We’ve got to get home and pay Ruby for watching Esme. Besides, if we let you picky we’ll end up watching some damn cartoon.”

Nia wnd Brainy similarly demur, citing reasons of their own.

“Okay. I’ll stay and help clean up.”

“You don’t have to,” Lena says, tentatively.

“I don’t want to be a poor guest.”

The rest of the Superfriends pile out of the penthouse and into the night with mildly alarming speed, and Kara is suddenly alone with Lena. The vast penthouse doesn’t feel empty. Instead it feels close in, almost crowded.

Lena slips off of Kara’s lap and plops beside her, yawning. She sets down her empty wine cup and stretches, delightfully arching her back as she throws her arms back up over her head, fingers laced. Kara doesn’t need x-ray vision to see she’s bare beneath the sweatshirt. Her own heart does a little flutter.

She looks so soft, so cozy and inviting, but her legs are such a distraction that Kara can’t help but look at them, her gaze sweeping from ankle to hip with the intensity of an explorer who’s just crested a mountain and set eyes on a promised new land. That’s when Kara realizes that Lena saw her looking and is meeting her gaze firmly.

“Like what you see?”

Kara swallows hard. She can hear the drum of Lena’s own heart, almost feel the same quickening of her pulse as well as the slight waver in her voice.

Kara licks her lips.

“Should we clean up, or…”

“Should we? Or should it wait until morning?”

If Lena had been dropping hint before, she was laying down the gauntlet now. She looked at Kara with lidded eyes and a flushed, wine-silly grin.

Kara swallowed hard. A part of her, a very loud part, still insisted she misinterpreted all of this and Lena was just being friendly. What if she was just being friendly, what if-

“What would you rather do?” said Kara.

Lena shrugged. “I’m tired of thinking, Kara. People ask me what to do all damned day. I’d rather relax and just let someone else take charge for a while.”

The way she said it, especially take charge, was so heavy and drippy and velvety that Kara could get lost in it.

Fuck it.

Kara twisted and, carefully, very carefully, lifted Lena into her lap. Lena made sure to not sit but straddle, her warm thighs bracketing Kara’s as she settled her weight in Kara’s lap and fell against her chest.

Very, very tenderly, with supreme care, Kara pressed her hand to the back of Lena’s head, slipping her fingers into Lena’s hair, and guided her in. She savored every second. The ghost of breath on her lips, the sight of Lena’s blown pupils before she closed her eyes, the feeling of Lena’s fingers digging into her shoulders as their lips met. Lena kissed her softly at first, then more and more greedily, exploding from a gently pressing of lips into something undeniably needy and hot. When Lena moaned into her mouth, Kara’s nerves lit up like a Christmas tree and she instincts grabbed Lena’s hips and and grinds herself up against her.

“Lena,” Kara whispered, “is that my sweatshirt?”

“Yes. It is.”

“Take it off,” said Kara, and then a moment later, “good girl.”

[luveline]

Could you do a drunk cuddly Steve if you're feeling up to it?

When Steve comes home to you that night, you evade his hug. “Steve, you smell awful.” 

Steve flinches away from you. In any other moment, you’d notice how lovely he looks —there’s something special about the way he squints when he’s pissed off— but his smell is overpowering. 

“Sorry?” he asks, offended and confused. 

“You’ve got stuff all down you. What is that?” You try to be kinder. It’s not like he smells bad on purpose. “Do you need help?” you ask.

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m gonna take your shirt off,” you say gently. 

His scowl relaxes. “You are?” 

“What is it, do you know? It doesn’t even smell like beer. It smells like death.” 

Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke, he’s not as smiley as you’d like him, but you suppose that’s the perils of telling him he smells. You grab the ends of his shirt and you pull it over his head, careful not to get the wet part on his face, and then you snag a packet of makeup wipes off of your vanity and pull on out to wipe down the skin near his heart that’s still shiny. 

“That’s nice,” he says, swaying at your touch. 

“Yeah?” You fold the wipe and rub him down. “I’m gonna put that shirt in the laundry. Get in bed, sweetheart.” You touch his face quickly. “Make yourself comfy.” 

You forbid his gross shirt to the laundry basket in the bathroom and take a moment to stretch. Steve, though drunk, isn’t doing his usual sweet brigade. You must’ve really offended him when you said he smells. You aim to put it right. 

“Sorry,” you say, pushing open your door again. Steve’s done as you told him to do, sitting on his usual side of your bed. “That was mean. You didn’t smell awful, just the shirt.” 

You climb onto the bed and kneel in front of him, stroking a perfect lock of hair back from his forehead. “Forgive me?” 

Steve winds his arm behind your back. He presses his face to yours, before his head falls into the curve of your neck, where it stays. 

“I’m sorry for being gross,” he says, heartily drunk.  

“You’re not gross, the beer just surprised me,” you say. 

It’s clear he drank more than he tipped, his movements wobbly, but his hand curling protectively behind you in a good effort. 

“Oh, hello,” you murmur, “this feels like forgiveness.” 

“Some asshole tipped beer on me, I’m sorry.” 

“Steve, it’s okay! Don’t say sorry, you smell just fine now.” You take a performative sniff of his hair. “You smell amazing.” 

He squeezes you and pushes you down into the bed. He has just enough wits about him to be careful about your head on the headboard, shifting over you, and pulling the blankets up to cover your shoulders. His naked torso presses against your arm, your chest and your stomach, his skin feverishly warm. 

“Do you think you can call me sweetheart again?” he asks strangely. 

“That depends, will it make you feel better?” 

He scoffs, which is more like him. “I won’t beg.” 

“No, you asked nicely enough the first time,” you say agreeably. 

When he leans back and pulls you into his chest, you feel forgiven for certain. Slowly, you let your nose skirt along the curve of his neck before kissing the shadow of his Adam’s apple. 

“Sweetheart,” you say, barely audible, “I love you.” 

He’s like an octopus from that point onward. You’re dragged flush to his front with your hand on his collar, his nose and mouth pressed to your forehead. He’s soft underneath you but not without muscle, a strong bicep behind your shoulders squeezing you securely even as he mumbles drunkenly into your skin. “Love you…” And finally, finally, he seems to recuperate from your accusation, “It’s weird when you don’t wanna hug me.” 

“I always do. It was purely olfactory related.” 

“Ol-what-ery?” 

“It wasn’t personal.” 

Steve squeezes you until you sigh. “It felt personal.” 

“It wasn’t. I just blurted it out. You smell really nice now,” you say, and he does, cologne and skin and sweat, too. 

“So you still love me?” he asks. 

“I just said I did, didn’t I?” 

He wrestles you with both great care and great clumsiness to his face for a tipsy kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth. “Can you tell me again?” 

You offer to say it a hundred times, but after twenty he’s snoozing into your shoulder, his thumb stuttering where it lays against your back. 

[ramonathinks]

AITA for telling my best friend the only want for me to forgive him after i found him smelling my underwear is by eating me out? — REINER BRAUN

note: i couldn’t think of a title ?? lol so i might change it at some point idk but since @honeybleed wanted me to post what i sent in the gc 🙄🙄❤️ & for my pookie @pinkmirth because reiner is her man

content warning: (18+, no minors, no blank accounts) oral fixation, oral (f), panty sniffing, male masturbation, reiner is a bit touch starved orrr whatever

reiner made it a habit to lay his head on your lap. it wasn’t something he did when he was particularly moody but it was just something he needed every once in a while. he’d lay there with his eyes closed and you’d stroke his face and rub his scalp, occasionally he’d ask for a “friendly” kiss to his forehead, and that would be it. he needed that comfort; craved it. leaned into your touch and inhaled deeply. with how close he was, he always caught a whiff of what was between your legs. he didn’t mind it; he wanted more than just the scent of it, he wanted to be coated in it. sometimes when you were deep into your phone or whatever movie was playing, he’d slide his face just a tad bit closer to your cunt and do a quiet inhale. he’d do anything in his power to not get hard, fighting his thoughts and fighting the smell. he could just chalk it up to morning wood or something, he knew that.

reiner also knew that he shouldn’t be doing what he’s planning right now. you were only friends, best friends, and best friends didn’t do this to their best friends. but he couldn’t help his self. you always smelled so good and your panties were so cute. frilly pink and a cute little bow on the top; they were sitting on your washing machine and he was counting the seconds until he heard your shower turn on. he gulped, picking them up and holding them in his hand. one sniff wouldn’t hurt would it? he pressed his nose deep into the pink cloth and groaned out: “fuck,” he inhaled again, feeling his pants tighten.

as cock grew harder, he pushed the panties harder into his nose — the smell overwhelming his senses. pulling his pants down, he bites his lips. “wish i could just…fuck, wanna have you to myself.” he swallows, pulling his boxers down. the cool air making him hiss as he wraps his hand around his throbbing cock and jerks himself a bit. with sticky coated fingers, he does one last sniff before he wraps the panties around his cock. sliding them up and down on his leaky cock. “ah fuck, that’s it.” he squeezes his eyes shut. “that’s it, that’s it.”

“reiner, what are you-“ you gasp. eyes wide. he’s quick to put his cock up, but he knew you already saw it.

“it’s not what you think.”

“it’s not what i think? you were… jerking off with my panties rei and it isn’t what i think?”

he gulps, “i just… i can’t explain myself.” he sighs, finally allowing himself to put the panties down. “you just always smell so good and i couldn’t help myself.”

“so you’re a pervert?”

he grimaces but hangs his head low, “yeah..? just… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, i never thought i’d get to this point and i just… please forgive me.” he pleads, finally looking your way.

“i don’t know rei…” but your clit was throbbing, a new rhythm all on its own. you pushed your thighs apart in an effort to clear your mind. but reiner was always handsome, too handsome for his own good.

you couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t have a tiny crush on him, he was always snuggling into you, spending the night and he had always been there for you. he treated you better than all the men in your life. maybe you should forgive him.

maybe if he…

it was your turn to swallow gulp and turn your head away, “i could forgive you…if you…” his eyes big as he awaits your answer. you were too embarrassed to even say it. “eat me out.”

you could see the way his cock twitched in his pants. “you’re…sure? i mean…” he thought about it time and time before but never did he think you’d ever want him to do that to you.

“nevermind—“

“no. no. it just caught me off guard.” he moves closer to you and takes your hand. “i want to.”

you were fresh out of the shower and the soapy smell on your skin was embedded. but when you spread yourself, he was salivating.

pretty and pink insides with wetness sticking your lips together. the more you spread yourself the more the strings of wetness broke apart. he groaned, “fuck, so pretty.” the smell overwhelming him, he loved it.

this was better than the panties.

he met your eyes before he did a small taste, licking a long stripe up and down your folds. your back arched a bit and he smiled.

he slurps and digs his face in, wetness on his tongue as he spreads your thighs apart even more. opening his mouth, he presses deep sucks into your slit — tongue exploring the center of your sweet creamy center before he works his way up.

he lays his tongue on your clit and sucks. he sucks once and groans, he sucks twice and then he opens his mouth wider — trying to lick at your slit and suck on your clit at the same time. “can’t get enough of you.”

he pulled back, letting your clit go before diving back in and swirling his tongue all over your swollen bud. you’re whining and thrusting your pussy more into his face. rolling your hips into his face, he lays his tongue down flat, small licks all around, watching your body flinch with every tiny touch of his tongue.

“don’t stop—!” your toes curl.

but he wasn’t planning on it.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Nanami and thigh riding please!

LOVE your work 😘😘

Thank you my dear!

Thigh Riding --------

Kento leans back comfortably in his armchair, watching you with wicked amusement. Contrasting his fully clothed body is you, one of his legs wedged between your legs as you sit completely naked on his thigh.

The fabric of his tailored slacks provides delicious friction to your swollen clit as you hump him, moisture leaking from your core and staining his trousers.

"Please Kento. You're so mean," you pant, feeling your own legs burn from the workout.

"I'm mean?" The blond man leans forward and catches your chin between his fingers. "Sweetheart, I'm not sure you know what mean is. If I really wanted to be mean, I'd command you sit down, unrelieved, until I decided you'd had enough. However, I decided to take pity on you and be generous with my body." He towers over you and his smirk makes you blush.

"Instead of being mean, I blessed you with my thigh. It's not my fault you don't know what to do with it."

You sniff, every muscle in your body taut with arousal and your core and clit throbbing angrily in need. "I just need a little help," you pout, looking at him with Bambi eyes.

Kento scoffs. "Help? Even after my charitable attempt of letting you hump my leg like a bitch in heat you want more help?"

"Please." You continue to look at him pathetically before he sighs dramatically.

"No. Get yourself off on your own, and maybe I'll reward you."

You pout at his refusal, then continue to roll your hips hoping something will happen. The movements were too shallow, his thigh so muscled and wide. You spread your legs even futher. sinking your pussy onto the cloth and find it gave more impact now. You brush your clit over and over, your legs quivvering from the effort of holding you up and bouncing on Kento's thigh.

Heat pours into your veins and you feel your mind enter a sexual haze and focus on getting yourself to the peak. Kento's sharp eyes watch your every move as you desperately ride his thigh, your face flushed and your breath turning into mewls as the tension in your belly grows before reaching an all time high and snapping.

Your face twists with pleasure as your pussy spasms and you moan your satisfaction as it fill you in waves. You eyes blink open and you see Kento watching you intently with that wicked smirk.

"Such a good girl, contorting your body to cum. Nicely done. Now let's see how well you do on my cock."

[itsnoones-stuff]

You deserve better

Masterlist

TW // mention of DV

Summary // you spend two weeks aimlessly walking around the academy halls after your fiancé calls off your wedding, Five has enough of your moping around.

//

It’s been two weeks since your fiancé called off the wedding, two weeks you moping around the walls of the academy. Refusing to eat or even sleep, all you can do is think about him. Five watches you pass his door for the third time in ten minutes, his frustration growing as he tries to concentrate on his book, “Y/N” you snap back into reality, poking your head back around the door. He sighs, brushing his hair out of his face and leaning back into the chair “please stop pacing” he sounds tired, you feel guilty stressing him out but you can’t help it, the wound is still fresh.

“Sorry” you mumble quietly, scurrying back down the corridor and away from Five’s door, not wanting to bother him anymore. “Y/N, come back” he calls, you stop, freezing for a moment, unsure of what to do. “Y/N?” He calls your name again, making you jump lightly. Running back to his room, you poke your head around his door, a guilty but quizzical look on your face. Five smiles softly “sit down” he mumbles, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitantly comply.

Once you sit down he asks you the question you’ve been dreading for the past two weeks, “is it because of him?” He turns in his chair to face you, resting his hand against his temple, a sympathetic but fed up look on his face. You can barely look in his direction, unable to speak, you nod, feeling the built up emotions finally bubbling over. Unable to stop yourself from crying, you throw your head in your hands and let it out. Crying harder and harder the longer you thought of him, thought of what he’s done to you.

Five let’s out a heavy sigh, standing from his chair and removing his suit jacket. Shaking his head as he walks towards you, you take a deep breath, temporarily stopping the tears and brace for one of his infamous lectures. To your surprise, he doesn’t speak, pulling you into for a silent hug instead. His touch is soft but firm, you almost melt into him, letting the tears stream. He lets you cry it out, unable to ignore his white button up shirt getting wet, “I’m gonna need a new shirt” he mumbles to himself, resting his chin on your head, lightly stroking your back as he does.

One thing about Five is that he hates being touched and touching other people.

You can’t help but let out a small giggle at his comment, sniffling as the tears dry up. Neither of you make an effort to move, Five slowly moves his hand up your back and to your head, lightly stroking your hair as he pulls you in tighter. “You feel better now?” He asks after a moment, slowly loosening his grip and pulling away to face you. You sniff, rubbing the tears from your cheeks as you nod, forcing a small smile “th- thanks Five” you mumble, choking on your words.

Taking a deep breath you turn to face you brother, he’s watching you, a small smile present on his lips but clear sadness in his eyes. “No problem Y/N” he speaks slowly and quietly, sending a small shiver down your spine. “You deserve better, you know that right?” You furrow your brows at his words, to you, your ex was the best, right? “What do you mean?” You ask softly, confused by his words.

Five pulls away from you, turning away and sighing softly “I know Y/N” his words are firm “know what?” You ask, getting more frustrated as your confusion only grows. “I saw him put his hands on you Y/N” you freeze at his sharp words, you were so careful not to let your family know what he did to you. “Remember last month when you two were stood in the foyer arguing?” You nod lightly, your body filling with dread at each word “yeah, I saw everything Y/N”.

“He- he’s not like that, it was a one off” your voice quiet but sad, barely able to find the energy to defend your ex, Five stays silent for a moment, opting to flash you a knowing look, causing you to sink down into yourself, he knows. You didn’t want anyone to know. “Do- do the” he cuts you off, shaking his head “no and I’m not going to tell them” you can’t help but sigh in relief, Five might know but at least the others don’t. “But” he turns to face you once more, a menacing look on his face and a twisted smile “if I ever see that asshole again, I’ll kill him myself” you gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat, knowing he’s not kidding. You smile softly at your sweet but disturbing big brother “thanks Five” you mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder as a laugh escapes your lips. At least he would never hurt you, right?

//

[drabblesandimagines]

Bedtime Tales

Gale of Waterdeep x reader, established relationship

--

You, rather poorly, attempt to bite down on a yawn, and Gale can’t help but frown as he watches you scoop yet another spoon of coffee into your mug.

“Darling?” He asks, tentatively.

“Mm?” You reply over your shoulder from the counter – waiting for the water to boil.  

“I am aware you prefer your coffee on the strong side, but surely four spoons will suffice.”

“Four?” You look down – the mug is half full of grounds - apparently unaware of what you were doing. “Oh. I must’ve lost count.”

“I noticed.” He gets to his feet then to stand behind you and wraps a gentle arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest before stooping a little so he can rest his chin upon your shoulder. “What’s going on in that sweet mind of yours, hm?”

“Nothing.” Another poorly concealed yawn.

“Did you not sleep well?”

You hesitate for a moment and consider a lie – it would be harmless, wouldn’t it? – but you lack the energy to put in the effort.

“I don’t think I did at all last night – just tossed and turned until dawn.” You’d felt tired, running errands all around Waterdeep the entire day but your mind hadn’t settled, jumping from thought to thought.

“Oh, love...” Gale presses a long kiss against your temple and relishes the feeling of you finally relaxing into his hold. He wished he could whisk you back off to bed, a day of cuddles, wrapped up in blankets but - as the clock chooses that moment to so cruelly chime - he has a cohort of students awaiting his teachings at Blackstaff Academy.

“You should go.” You turn and press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

He takes a moment to brush a stray piece of hair from your face, concealing a frown at the dark rings under your eyes – perhaps this was not the first night of poor sleep you’d suffered – and smiles. “I love you more.”

--

You’d been quiet through dinner, despite Gale’s open-ended questions to try and get conversation flowing. He’d suggested the two of you retire earlier tonight than you usually did and you hadn’t protested. After a teasing kiss goodnight, you’d rolled onto your side, chasing sleep…

It’s the sound of a stifled sob that wakes Gale with a start.

“Darling?”

The sound stops with a hiccup, as you press your face deeper into the pillow, hoping he’ll drift back off to sleep.

No such luck though as Gale only murmurs a cantrip to light the lamps surrounding the bed with a soft glow.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You sniff, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand. “I can go sit on the balcony and-“

He grabs your wrist, worried you’ll vanish in front of him. “You will do no such thing – I’d never dream of it. Please, what’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.” You take a deep, exasperated breath. “I’m just… I’m so tired that I’m beyond it. My eyes sting from being open, they sting even when they’re closed, but I just can’t sleep. There’s too many thoughts in my head, it’s worse than the damn tadpole.”

“I could cast sleep-” He reaches for your hand.

“No.” You answer, abruptly, and he’s a little startled by the aggression in your tone. “Sorry. I know you would mean well by it, but from having it cast upon me in the past… it was never a pleasant nor restful experience.”

He frowns, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. There’s so much he needs to learn about you - still a little guarded about events that transpired before him and the nautiloid.

“My apologies, my love. I did not mean to bring up any bad memories.”

“No, I know.” You squeeze his fingers. “I’ll be all right.”

He mulls for a moment, before an idea comes to mind. “I might have a cure. No magic required either.”

You smile, still tired, but gather enough strength to tease. “But you love magic.”

“Whilst I am rather fond of it, there are proven alternatives to such quandaries as this.” He shrugs. “When I was a young boy, trying to read every book known to man, my head too grew busy with thoughts. Though perhaps I was just too excited to sleep, I think we should still give it a go.”

“What is it?” You roll over onto your side, clutching the pillow to your chest.

“My mother used to read to me and, if you’ll permit me, my darling, I would love to do the same for you.”

You squeeze the pillow, casting your eyes down. “Mm, I’ve never been much of a reader before bed.”

“Ah, I have noticed.” How could he not? There was only one side of the bed that had a stack of tomes piled high besides it. “But being read to is quite different, I assure you. Would you care to try?”

You consider the idea for a moment. “All right. There’s nothing to lose, I suppose.”

“And, hopefully, sleep to gain. Hm, what do I have that would suit…?” Gale turns to the side, scans through the pile, before snatching one from the middle with a deft hand - you’re surprised the whole thing doesn’t topple. “Perfect. One of my childhood favourites, in fact.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you still read it?”

Gale shrugs a shoulder, half-heartedly. “I like to indulge every now and again.”

“What is it?”

He turns the cover towards you – a fine leather tome, purple, with gold lettering. “The very creatively titled Baldurian Tales of Wonder. It’s a collection of short, whimsical stories – happy endings guaranteed.”

He places the tome between the two of you before turning slightly and fluffing up his pillows. Once seemingly satisfied, he sits up a little more and spreads his legs. “Come, get comfy.”

“You want me to…?”

“Mm-hm. You’ll want to see the pictures, naturally.”

“Naturally,” you repeat. “Not anything to do with you wanting me cuddled against your chest.” Gale does not respond, only raises a knee with a gentle click so you can slide over and nestle down against his bare chest.

He slides his knee back down and picks up the tome, resting it on the blanket covering the two of you, and flipping to the first tale.

“Once upon a time-"

“Are you going to do voices?”

He chuckles – it rumbles comfortingly through your back and you unconsciously relax once more into his embrace. “Would you like me to do voices?”

“Did your mother do voices?”

“She… tried her best.”

“Voices, please.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “Voices it is.”

He begins to read, slowly and softly, being sure not to get too carried away with the characterization of certain characters. His voice is comforting, reassuring, and though your eyes still sting, you try your best to focus on the words and pictures in front of you, your mind finally becoming quiet, your eyes beginning to close…

Gale does not even make it to the end of the first story when he hears your breathing change, though he continues to read it aloud.

Just to be sure you’re truly asleep, that is, not because he wishes to finish the tale.

---

I had a bad day and I wanted some cuddly fluff x

[rxzennia]

picky eater

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 leviathan? dog under the table! avvy, won’t you come home in 18 hours 30 minutes? final tribute to you before your release <3

aventurine shows up in your office without knocking, as he often does. you look up from your work, raising a brow – you’ve gotten so used to him doing this that you’ve given up asking him what he wants altogether.

“what, i can’t even visit my own secretary?” he teases, trotting up to your desk and setting down a delicate bag of… something. “lunch, my dear, lunch. you skipped it again, didn’t you?”

you ignore his pet name for you and stare at the bag, then at him, then back at the bag

it’s quite endearing how he tries to make sure you eat regularly

even though your composition doesn’t quite need you to eat the way other people do

not that you can’t, you just don’t really need to, so you don’t

it’s just less effort for you and more efficiency

but who are you to deny your boss’s goodwill?

“thank you,” you say, giving the entire bag a quick sniff. “the usual?”

“the usual.” he confirms

more like if he gets anything else there’s quite a high chance that you won’t like it

he’s realized that you’re picky as hell

even though you literally eat monsters for fun 

okay, maybe not for fun

his point still stands, though

when it comes to your taste buds they’re the most hard to please things ever

it’s okay, someday he’ll find your favorite foods

in the meantime he’ll keep getting you stuff he knows you’ll eat

this information is obtained through trial and error, by the way

read: a lot of trials and a lot of errors. mostly errors

you flash him a small smile under your scarf

he doesn’t miss it; he’s known how to read your expressions by the changes in your eyes now

you set your papers aside and carefully put the few boxes of takeout on your desk

you have limited space on your desk because of the way you set it up

you don’t like big, wide spaces

when you finally pull down your scarf, aventurine’s entire person lights up with joy.

“what?” you ask, because he looks like that every time he sees your face.

“nothing,” aventurine chuckles, “just thinking about how you used to kick me out whenever you had to take off your scarf.”

you look at him from the corner of your eyes, your spoonful of rice half-raised

you are unimpressed

“would you like me to kick you out?” you offer very kindly

so cold

but he knows you’re not actually going to kick him out

still. so cold.

“hey, i brought you food!” he whines

you nod in agreement. “and i said thank you.”

why are you like this

please, as much as he loves these back-and-forths with you, have some mercy

then again the sight of you eating well is really heartwarming

plus the fact that he’s the one who's treating you

worth it 10/10

you’re using utensils like everyone else, but somehow you still eat really quickly?

what in the sorcery

you finish the contents in the boxes that smell familiar

the trustworthy boxes™ 

and that leaves you with… one delicate little box

it smells… ominous. like a crime against your tongue.

you look at aventurine with doubt in your eyes. what is he trying to feed you this time?

“cake,” he says, “i asked around for the best cafe in town.”

“you asked topaz.” you slowly take off the ribbon and open the box.

ouch, must you be so truthful?

because who else is he supposed to go to for these things?

it’s not like he can just ask anyone!

and he really wants to know your preference towards sweet things

you’ll eat very, very lightly sweetened things

but what about proper dessert? 

you’re gentle towards the box; you’re staring at the canary-shaped cake

more examining than staring, actually

seems like you appreciate intricately decorated things

he’s making a mental list of things you like and don’t like

even though you’re not very cooperative with him on this

like

c’mon, he wants to know everything about you! he wants to treat you right! let him!!!

(you do not know of the existence of such a list)

you pick up the mini cake and sniff it

pokes it with your tongue when you think it passes your sniff test

sweet, but nothing too bad so far

time to take it further

you try a tiny bite in the corner

your senses get assaulted by sugar, if that even makes sense

no. 0/10 would not recommend.

but you keep your face blank so as to not be blatantly obvious

“hmm.” you set the pastry down on your desk like you’re deep in thought.

“how is it? you like it?” aventurine awaits your answer eagerly, watching you closely. a little too closely, to be honest.

“please do not ever visit that store for cakes again.” you say, getting a spoonful of the unbitten side and offering it to your boss. “mm.”

you’re telling him to try it? 

the way you’re asking is so adorable

not even words, just a little hum and a small wave of the spoon

he does have a try of the cake

and have you feed him while he’s at it

very happy right now

would be better if the cake wasn’t sugared like it’s a day’s calories concentrate

he understands your response now

trying his best to not cringe

also knows to never ask topaz for dessert recommendations again

“if you don’t like it, let’s just toss it out,” he suggests, because he wouldn’t be able to stomach that either

no

you got this from him

territorial snake moment when he tries to take it from your hands

you hiss

jumpscare, he did not expect that

also oddly happy that you’re protective of the stuff he gives you

also concerned

“you’re not going to force yourself to eat that, are you…?” 

“what are you saying, of course not,” you say, setting the barely-eaten canary cake on your desk all the while keeping aventurine’s hands away from it. 

then your scarf comes and swallows the thing in one gulp.

what.

“it…” aventurine points a shaky finger at the white fabric that morphed into a faceless serpent’s head at the ends. “it ate it? just like that?”

“if it can swallow monsters whole, it can eat an overly sweet cake.” you shrug, finally wiping your mouth and pulling your scarf back up.

aventurine’s jaw would be on the floor if it was physically possible. unfortunately, it isn’t. “i thought you could still taste when your scarf eats things?” 

“monsters.” you reply, patting your scarf as it settles into a regular piece of cloth again, “it tastes monsters. not food.”

so that's how you managed to finish even the things you absolutely hate? by having your scarf eat it?

aeons, there’s still so much he has yet to learn about you, isn't there?

[frudoo]

I need a part 2 and 3 of Bikers 141!!!! And for the anonymous person who suggested this idea: You are a genius!! This is such a great idea!!!! I can see them helping her get a new job!!! Please add more!

Sorry it took so long for me to reply 🫣

Life has been a bitch and unfortunately I am the son.

Part 2 to this.

Warnings: None! Fem!Reader.

“She’s ridin’ w’me,” Simon grunts, and his tone leaves no room for argument—not that you mind.

    You hesitantly walk over and climb onto Simon’s bike, holding onto his waist for dear life despite still being stationary. He chuckles, revving up his engine and leading the way out of the parking lot for the three other men to follow. You frown, fingers digging into the flesh of his waist beneath his skin-tight shirt, hiding your face between his shoulder blades so you can’t see how fast you’re going or feel the wind whipping your hair. 

     Finally, the motorcycle comes to a stop with a slight jerk that has you yelping against Simon’s back. He chuckles and dismounts his ride, grabbing your waist and lifting you off of it as well. You don’t even have time to process how easily he picked your plush body up when you’re just so thankful to be alive. 

     “I am never doin’ that again!” You huff, hands on your hips as you glare at all of them. “Especially without a helmet! Do you know how dangerous that is?! What if y’all had crashed?!” 

     “Good thing we didn’t, then, eh?” John winks, nodding his head towards the quaint little ice cream parlor before you. 

     Johnny is the first to walk in, head held high like he owns the place. Next is Kyle and then John with similar stances, and the thought is so silly that it makes you giggle—four big, strong bikers trudging into the little shop to enjoy a sweet treat. Simon places his hand on the small of your back and opens the door for you, having to duck his head to trail in after. The inside looks like a typical creamery, swirls of pastel pinks and greens and yellows decorating the walls and a beautiful display of all kinds of flavors.

     “Kate,” John greets the woman behind the counter with a sniff. “Got someone for you to meet.”

     The woman gives you a onceover before turning back to John with a pleased grin. Suddenly you feel small, wrapping your arms around one of Simon’s biceps in some effort to feel safe. He chuckles, bending at the waist to murmur into your ear.

     “Tha’s jus’ Kate. Doesn’t smile much, bu’ it looks like she approves o’ya,” He explains, although now you’re more confused than intimidated.

     “Approves of me? For what?” You frown, looking up at the tall man who, surprisingly has taken off his mask—he hadn’t even done that to eat back at the diner. “O-oh, you’re… I- uh. Hm.”

     Simon smirks amusedly, and it makes your heart flutter. There are multitudes of scars all along his visage but the most prominent runs across his top lip, jagged and off-white as if it was the result of a poorly done repair job. His hair is a mess of cropped blonde strands, one bushy eyebrow raised like he’s waiting for your assessment. In short, you like what you see. In all honesty, you’ve never felt such a strong urge to kiss somebody in your life. You might have done just that if Kyle hadn’t cleared his throat.

     “Kate’s askin’ ya summat, dove.”

     “Huh? Oh! I’m so sorry, ma’am, w-what were you sayin’?” You quickly whip your head around to see that, in fact, she’s looking right at you with her arms crossed. 

     “I was offering you a job. The boys were telling me that you just got fired, is that right?” Despite her unforgiving posture, her eyes are soft and she seems patient—the complete opposite of your old boss. 

     “Yes, ma’am,” you confirm, embarrassed. 

     “Right. You start tomorrow,” Kate informs you matter-of-factly, and you sputter although no words come out of your agape mouth. 

     None of the men seem at all phased by her statement, each ordering their respective usuals, apparently: rum raisin for Kyle, pistachio for John, lemon custard for Simon, and almond mocha for Johnny. All five turn to look at you expectantly, and you suck in a deep breath before settling on a classic root beer float. They all seem pleased, and before you even get the chance to pull out your card to pay for your own, John takes care of the entire thing. You thank him sweetly as the guys guide you to sit at a cute little table, far too small and whimsical for the likes of them.

     It’s a good root beer float, though. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that these men—no matter how blunt or forward they may be—are so eager to help you out (in their own way of politely bossing you around, of course).

[dark-fics-4-you]

possible rafe request?! rafes gf makes him mad by being too friendly at an event w wards business partners so he fucks her at the event 😈

Golden Boy

Warnings: domestic violence, noncon, toxic relationship, jealousy,

You chuckled politely, trying not to glare at the thirty-something year old man in front of you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but put a little venom in your reply, “Well, I actually do have plans outside of my boyfriend. I’m going to college right now, and I’m actually in a paid internship that I got before Rafe and I met.”

The somewhat handsome, but definitely too old to be your type, business partner, whose name you had already forgotten, gave you an annoyed look, not expecting you to respond that way to his poorly hidden dig at you not belonging at this event.

It was true, in some ways. You were far from your side of the island, and no matter how much time you put into your make up and hair or the price tags of the many expensive clothes Rafe had bought you, the Kooks could always sniff out the people who grew up with nothing.

Before he could respond though, you heard your name being called from behind. Peering past the man in front of you, you could see your boyfriend waving at you to come over to him.

You didn’t even bother telling the asshole in front of you that you were exiting the conversation, you just did, quickly returning to Rafe’s side.

“Ugh perfect timing, that guy I was just talking to was a total jerk,” you whispered in his ear as you gave him a hug.

“Baby, didn’t I tell you to try to get along with these guys?” He seemed angry and you could tell that this event was already stressing him out a lot. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and everything about him was somewhat jittery, like he wasn’t in his right mind.

“I mean, you know I need to look good in front of them while my Dad’s watching. It means a lot to him.” You looked into his eyes at his words and noticed two things. One, Rafe said it meant a lot to his dad, but you knew it was more about how how much it meant to him. And two, his pupils were much wider than they should have been.

Rafe had obviously done some coke before tonight, trying to calm his nerves and give him some confidence, but it was only doing the opposite.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, but I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t defend myself in front of the people here who are looking down on me.” You shot back at him, annoyed for more reasons than one. “I’m being polite to them, but it would probably be easier for me if you were by my side to stop them from being so rude to me.”

You lowered your voice before speaking again, “And also… I don’t think you should be doing so much coke right now.”

Rafe’s burning glare alone was enough to make you regret saying anything, the return of his tight grip on your arm was just a sick formality at this point, reminding you of the previous bruise he had left in that same spot that you had to cover with makeup for this event.

After being with your boyfriend for so long, you knew the lengths he would go to when he felt personally wronged.

You learned very early on that Rafe was never one to hold back on his verbal abuse, and his physical abuse was no different, although he always tried to keep both incredibly private due to the damage that could come to the Cameron name if it ever came out that Ward’s son, the golden boy, was hitting his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Rafe. I just care for you, that’s all. I promise I’ll be polite to your dad’s friends.” Your meager apology seemed to be good enough for the moment, and your boyfriend gave you a silent nod after staring at you for several unnerving seconds.

“Be polite, don’t share your opinion, and just keep your mouth shut for the most part. Let them talk about themselves, and they’ll probably think it was the best conversation they’ve had all day.” Rafe grumbled, but his mood improved when he tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours, large hand still resting under your chin. You kissed him back for what you thought was an appropriate amount of time, but when you tried to pull away, he held you in place, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you to kiss him back.

By the time he released you, you pulled away to see several people staring at the two of you, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Rafe was always doing things like that in public when he felt like other men were threatening your relationship, he always needed to prove himself and stake his claim on you. Let everyone there know that you belonged to him.

“Remember what I said sweetheart. Just try to act like you belong here.” He smirked at his obvious jab at the very thing you felt the most self conscious about right now, before he calmly turned heel, approaching another group of stuffy, rich assholes across the large room.

Your huff of frustration must have been loud enough to be heard by someone standing near you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

To your surprise, when you turned around you were greeted by a man who looked to be about your age.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He held out his hand, which you grabbed, giving him a firm handshake, just like Rafe had taught you.

“Yes I am, although I’m not quite sure if we have met before?” You lightheartedly responded.

“Ah, my apologies, you haven’t, I’m James, I work with your boyfriend at Cameron Development. He’s honestly a blast,” the man, James apparently, chuckled as he recalled several stories of work assignments with Rafe. This led to the two of you exchanging several funny work and college tales.

Despite never having met James before, you felt an instant chemistry with him, nothing romantic at all, of course, but you found him very easy to talk to, and to your surprise, after glancing at your watch, you realized that the two of you had been chatting for nearly 25 minutes!

At this realization, your blood instantly ran cold. Where was Rafe? Why hadn’t he checked on you? Had he seen you talking to the same guy for nearly half an hour, clearly enjoying yourself the entire conversation?

As if he could tell that you were thinking of him, Rafe suddenly appeared several yards away from where your conversation with James was taking place. There was a scowl on his face, and you could tell by the way he was advancing on you that he was pissed.

“Hey, Y/N, why don’t I give you my number, just so you have it?” James innocently asked, completely unaware of the anxiety coursing through your veins and the fact that your boyfriend was in earshot, pushing through the small crowd behind him to reach you.

Before you could even open your mouth to politely decline, Rafe was speaking for you, “She’s not interested.”

You didn’t have time to say goodbye, because your boyfriend was dragging you away from your new friend, his grip harshly digging in to your bruised arm.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was even and calculated, but he couldn’t hide the rage simmering beneath the surface.

“You told me to-”

“I told you to get along with them, not to try to get into their pants.” Rafe growled, pushing you into the closest room with a door he could find, which happened to be Ward’s office. You landed on the carpeted floor, wincing in pain when your elbow absorbed most of the fall.

“Rafe, I promise, I was just having a good conversation.” Your voice was beginning to waver, the weight of the situation that you had found yourself in was beginning to sink in. “He’s your coworker, is it so wrong that I talked to him?”

“Stop lying! I know what I saw! You would have to be an idiot to not realize that he’s trying to fuck you too.” You would have been worried that someone could hear your boyfriend berating you, had it not been for the music playing throughout the house, and the thick walls of Ward’s study.

You realized how sad it was that you only knew that because Rafe had now loudly hurled insults at you in every room in the house he could at this point.

The blond stalked towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you upright. “I mean, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You think that little of me, Y/N?”

“Rafe no, I-”

You felt the air in your lungs disappear as your head snapped to the side, a sharp pain in your cheek blossoming across the now reddened skin.

“You don’t get to talk back to me right now!” Your boyfriend yelled in your face. You had barely processed his slap when you felt him moving you again, although now you felt much more numb.

Numb to Rafe roughly manhandling you before he bent you over his father’s desk, numb to the feeling of the cold, hard wood on your face as Rafe held you down, numb to the feeling of him pushing your fancy dress up and rudely yanking down your panties before harshly pushing two fingers inside you, and numb to the tears that were now spilling onto Ward’s desk.

“Such a fucking slut! You’re soaked,” he darkly chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his voice. “Is this all for me, or is it for James?” He bitterly wondered aloud, and when you didn’t give him a response fast enough, you cried out at the feeling of him smacking your ass.

“F-for you, Rafe,” you choked out through your tears.

You could hear him removing his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor was enough to trigger your body to begin quaking with fear and anxiety.

“Aw baby,” he cooed, and you flinched when you felt his fingers in your hair, lightly brushing some of it out of your eyes so he could look at you. “Don’t act so scared. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least, not until after the party’s over.”

His laughter made you feel sick, but even worse was the shock you felt when Rafe spread your pussy and sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

You saw stars for a few moments, the surprise catching you off guard and he was able to slide deeper into your tight walls.

“Rafe!” You gasped, unable to fight back, as your arms were pinned beneath you, and your boyfriend’s large chest prevented you from moving.

His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping a handful tightly as he pushed your face into the desk. His hips were snapping against your ass, fucking you harder whenever you futilely tried to break from his hold.

Every time you tried to escape mentally, to tear yourself from the reality of what your boyfriend was doing to you, he brought you back, snapping his fingers or groaning your name into your ear as he forced himself deeper into your wet cunt.

You were sure that your hips would be bruised from bumping into Ward’s desk as Rafe fucked you against your will. Another reminder of all the lessons he insisted that he had to teach you by force.

Every sharp thrust was a warning that this was him holding back. This was him being nice. And you knew better than to further aggravate Rafe when he was on a power trip.

And that was exactly what this was all about. The power and privilege that Rafe held over you, that he used to hurt you time and time again, without ever facing any real consequences. This was about reminding you that you belonged to him and at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron was untouchable and unstoppable, the Kook King, the golden boy of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks.

“You are my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe growled. “It’s time you started fucking acting like it.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 24

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

He’s leaving again. It’s harder now after everything. After that intruder. You shouldn’t want the soldier to stay but being alone is dangerous. He might be a threat on his own but he protects you all the same. It’s a twisted way to think of it but you could be the one he keeps safe or the one he tears apart tendon from toenail. 

He’s in his body armour, his cowl under his arm. You watch him march toward the door but he doesn’t reach it. He stops and looks at you. His eyes haven’t yet fully glazed over. You sit, paralysed for a moment, before you find some strength. 

You get up and cross to him, limping on your tender foot. It’s healing, slowly, but it will never be like before. You don’t know what to do. He’s blank as he looks back at you. 

You reach to squeeze his wrist, “I’ll be here.” That’s stupid. He knows you’re not going anywhere. He takes a deep breath and twists his hand up, slipping free of your grasp to latch on. He grips you tightly and dips his chin. His way of saying I will come back. 

He lets you go and faces the door. He pulls the cowl over his head and secures the strap. You see the shift in his posture, the tension as it nestles in his jaw. He marches on and the door opens and closes to punctuate his departure. 

You exhale and hug yourself. It’s still cold and desolate. More so without him. You hate to feel that way but now, he’s all you have. 

You hobble across the room and take the blanket from the couch. You sit by the fire and start your vigil. You rise only to tend to your basic needs; food, bathroom, otherwise, you doze or stare, feeding the flame so it keeps a steady crackle. 

Time doesn’t exist in this place so you don’t try to track it. The day melds into the night. Nothing changes. Not until the clatter. 

Your heart peaks. Adrenaline surges through the dulcet drone of your existence. You shake as you shrug away the blanket. The world hazes as the door handle turns and the hinge grind softly. Panic swells over you, a stone in your chest. You can’t breathe. 

It’s another monster come to attack. You lunge for the iron poker by the fireplace. You whimper at the weight on your injured foot but it fades into a pulsing thrum. You turn to face the new invader. You’ll fight, just as hard as the last time. 

You know by the footsteps alone that you’re wrong. It’s him. The soldier. You know the cadence of his gait. Your grip eases on the poker and as he appears, you let your arms fall, pointing it to the floor. 

He tilts his head and stops to stare back at you. His armour is dusty, his fingertips grimy, and his boots leave water in the stead. He approaches you, step by step. He looks down at the poker and reaches to grip it below your hand. 

He raises it and arcs it in a mimic of an attack, stopping it before his face. He brings his other hand around yours and moves behind you. He moves your fingers, adjusting them to clasp it firmer. He guides both your hands around the handle and he guides it back. He brings it down in a harsh slice. He does it several times. 

He squeezes and backs away. He gestures with his hand. You shake your head. He mimes the motion of swing the poker. He’s teaching you how to do it right. How to hit to damage. 

“I can’t--” 

He wags his finger. You have to. You sniff and turn your focus to the poker. You raise it again and swing. The air whips around your effort. He nods and wiggles his finger. Again. He unhooks his cowl and slips it off. He tosses it on the couch. 

He moves toward you. He surprises you as he bends and carefully moves your feet. He stands again and sets his own stance, waving his hand between the both of you. You do your best to replicate his posture. He nods and backs up. 

You try again. He urges you on with another point. You keep doing it. Over and over, each time more confident than the last. You’re left breathless. You aim the pointer down into the floor and lean on it. 

He stares then slowly bends his arm. A thumbs up. It’s almost comical. 

Then his eyes narrow and his face grows sombre. He shakes his head. He snatches up his cowl then goes to the kitchen. He opens the cupboards and examines the contents. He hooks his chinstrap to his belt and the helmet dangles against his thigh. 

He takes a milk crate from the corner and sweeps the contents of the cupboard into it. You gasp and come up next to him. What is he doing? 

He’s determined. He doesn’t notice you as he continues to clear out the cupboard. You watch him in confusion. 

“Are you leaving?” You ask fearfully. He stops and looks at you. His cheek twitches and his brows arch. “Are we leaving?” 

His lashes flick and he goes back to shoving packets in the crate. Your heart pulses. You could ask where but you know won’t get a question. 

“What do we need? Food? Blankets?” He nods as he turns to the fridge and opens it up. 

“Okay, I’ll help,” you say.  

He pauses and turns to face you. His face contorts and he mouths two words; thank you. You nod then hesitate. He goes to turn back and you grab his arm, releasing him as he shifts back again. You take your hand to your chin and push it towards him. 

“Thank you,” you say. “This means ‘thank you’.” 

He squints. He lifts his hand and looks at it then repeats the same gesture. The idea clicks in your head but you don’t know much more than that. 

“Sign language,” you explain. “I only know please and a few other things...” 

He makes the gesture again. You blow out a long breath and recenter yourself. You pivot as he returns to the fridge. 

“Blankets, clothes, got it,” you say to yourself.  

You limp out of the kitchen and grab the blanket from the floor. You’re scared and confused. You don’t know where he’s taking you or why. Still, it can’t be worse than this place.