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#But he had to change it to have the video played on TV
hballegro · 2 months
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alan alda storytime
the full story from one of the screenshots of my previous post.
story begins with my archaeology professor showing a slide of alan alda in the early 2000s holding some mammoth bones and asks the class if anyone recognizes him. i had watched some MASH with my mother when i was little and had also seen the movie The Object of My Affection, so i raised my hand and said it was alan alda. he lit up and said yes, it was, and told the rest of the class he used to be on this old show, and that when we got more into the bioanthro side of things, remind him to 'tell his alan alda story'.
about 2 months later, we are in bioanthro, and i remind him. he gets excited and says he included slides to talk about it.
[rest under cut]
he tells us how he had just moved to a new city, and he had taken a university job in order to get insurance for his new family [which he didnt get but thats neither here or there]. he gets news that his job is going to be working with Scientific American Frontiers, hosted by the one and only Alan Alda. my prof was thrilled, he loves MASH, and while he specifically wouldnt be involved in the process [being a presenter, working with alan, etc] he was allowed to be around incase they needed help.
i dont know the specific episode, or if it can be found anywhere, but the topic was early man and tools, and how there were mammoth bones that specifically had cuts that could only be made with tools, not by teeth from an animal. they had finished filming for the day and just needed B-roll of some lions at the local zoo chewing some bones [part of the experiment], and alan got a call. he asked if he could head out now, because he needed to get back to his hotel now, and the call had been important. the producers said sure, go ahead, and alan asked if someone could give him a ride.
my professor, having the chance to actually spend time with someone he idolized, and being a stupid late 20s-something, volunteered immediately. stupid why? well, i said he'd just moved there. he didnt know where the hell anything was, and he didnt have GPS available to him, he was just really excited. so they get in the car and start driving.
as i said in my previous post, alan alda had about 20 minutes with this random guy, and found out pretty quickly that he was an archaeologist, and the amazing topic of conversation that he picked was the [then new] theory that we developed agriculture specifically to make booze, and that the rest of the stuff was more or less a biproduct. which is pretty on-brand honestly.
after a while, alan catches on to the fact that this guy clearly has no idea where the hell hes going, and that they've been driving in circles around the city for a while now. he [reportedly very politely] said that actually, this here was his stop, and thanked him for the ride. he then most likely called a taxi that actually knew where it was going, and got to his hotel.
turns out the call was about The Aviator! the call was important because he learned it was confirmed he in it and they needed him to get over there.
its not a glamourous story, but its the only story i got. my prof reported he was a funny guy, and despite slightly kidnapping the poor man for a while, he was the picture of kindness and personability. and clearly he likes telling the story and it left an impression, because he took time out of our already-short lecture to tell a class of 20-somethings that had no idea who Alan Alda was about it.
sorry this is so verbose i dont know how to be short lmao
#oh yeah#this show is hosted by a guy from an old TV show#mash#mash 4077#mashblogging#alan alda#m*a*s*h#hawkeye pierce#this is the same prof that organized an off-campus field trip thing#and when i said i didnt have a way to get to the place he just. offered to give me a ride#this was a class of like 200 people and just 'well if you need to get there and dont mind a messy truck-'#A+ person overall. gave me a piece of obsidian debitage from a flintknapping demonstration#even babyproofed it for me beforehand. still cut myself on it [i broke a tiny piece off on accident and made it sharp again]#also that moment of raising my hand to go 'alan alda meethinks' was horrifying#silent room looking at this picture of this dude handling mammoth bones and im like 'i can identify this old man. maybe.'#wasnt even sure. ive rewatched MASH now but at the time it was foggy#wasnt even the first time hes shown up in my schooling! im going into psych and the bastard has appeared twice#that episode where they cut the guys corpus callosum. imagine being a 17 yo in a room of 15 yos#[i took the class late] and silently freaking out cause you know who that is but no one else does and then the teacher says#and then a year later being in college in your first psych class and the SAME VIDEO gets played. wild shit#anyway that makes 3 years in a row that at least 1 class has had alan alda in it. if it gets to May next year and he hasnt shown up#im gonna make him show up somehow. dissertation on how hawkeye pierce is a good example of PTSD in media#be the change you want to see in the world
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utahimeow · 7 months
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“kenma?”
“hmm?”
he doesn’t take his eyes off the tv screen where he shoots at enemies left and right, but his ears are all yours.
“who was your first kiss?”
it’s become a habit of yours to watch his fingers move on the controller, long and thin and dexterous, wondering how he manages to move them in such a swift manner that to you seems impossible.
“didn’t have one,” he says, blunt.
“ever?”
“ever.”
“how?” you ask, both surprised and not—though now that you think about it, through all the years you’ve known him, he probably would have told you if he had.
“all i did in middle and high school was play volleyball and game. didn’t have time to kiss anyone. also didn’t care about it,” he admits.
you suppose if he wasn’t with you or kuroo, he was at home, playing video games. but there was that little obsession of his with shoyo hinata… so you guess it wasn’t a crush after all.
there’s only an ounce of hesitation behind what you say next, because yes, kenma’s your best friend and this could change the trajectory of your entire relationship with him, but also it’s kenma. kenma who you’ve shared a bed and clothes with, kenma who’s seen you at rock bottom and who’s wiped your snot and tears away when you were at your lowest, kenma who you’re attached at the hip with.
“what if i was your first kiss?”
kenma doesn’t falter at your words, not even for a second as he plays on expertly, nonchalant as always.
“uhh, why?” he asks, and you’re triumphant. if it was a ‘ew, no, what the fuck?’ then that’s how you’d know you fucked up. but it’s not.
“it kinda makes sense for me to be your first. also, i just wanna know what it’s like to kiss you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.
the next few moments are full of nothing but controller sounds and the music from the video game on the tv. in the faint glow that radiates from the screen, you make out a tiny dusting of pink on kenma’s pale cheeks.
eventually he gulps. then, “can we drink first?”
your mouth falls open with an insulted gasp and you have half a mind to smack him over the head.
“if you think i’m ugly you can say that, kozume,” you pout, crossing your arms.
“it’s not because i think you’re ugly, dumbass.”
“then why do you need to be drunk to kiss me?!”
kenma is silent again. he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re staring at him utterly indignantly.
“because i’m too scared to look you in the eyes right now.”
oh.
now you get it.
kenma kozume is such a virgin. and you want him so incredibly badly. in fact you have to restrain yourself from jumping into his lap and kissing him until he can’t think straight.
instead you slide off the couch and head towards his fridge, grab two bottles of asahi and the bottle opener from the utensil drawer before padding back over to the couch, sitting an inch or two closer to kenma than you were before.
you click one bottle open for him, then one for yourself, then without a hint of hesitation you take a confident swig until you’re near chugging the drink.
“chill,” kenma says, side-eyeing you after taking a swig from his own bottle. “don’t want you pulling a himeno on me.”
you let out a noise that’s half-scoff and half-laugh, smacking at his arm. “don’t joke about that. that scene was traumatic.”
two bottles of beer later, kenma’s in-game reflexes start to waver. he’s no longer as sharp as usual, though his tipsy state still trumps the skills of an average player. meanwhile, your head floats with the buzz of alcohol—well, it hovers.
“kenmaaa,” you whine, shaking his arm, when all of a sudden his character is shot to death and the screen pauses as if to deliberately rub his defeat in his face. you stifle a giggle while he runs his hands over his face, though you’re pretty sure it’s not because he lost.
“what?” he asks, but he fails at conveying any real irritation towards you. his voice is small, frail almost.
“i wanna kiss you,” you say. your fingers still cling to the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. kenma’s entire body burns from it. he’s so fucked.
“okay, fine,” he says, turning his body to finally face you and criss-crossing his legs on the couch. “this feels awkward though, how are we-”
and you’ve waited long enough for this, and the alcohol that buzzes through your system makes you throw all your morals out the window, and you’re grabbing him by fistfuls of his hoodie and dragging him towards you until your lips smash—literally—together, and finally he shuts up.
you’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re kissing him like you’re hungry, not quite ravaging him, but years of yearning deep inside of you bubbles to the surface and fills you with desperation.
also, you’re tipsy.
it’s not long before you come back to your senses a little and remind yourself that this is just his first kiss. go easy on him, maybe?
you move away, slowly, as though trying not to startle him, to find a pair of golden feline eyes blinking back at you. they’re swimming with something unintelligible, something akin to… need? you think you must be seeing things. you’re tipsy, after all.
the silence that hangs over the pair of you is heavy—too heavy. it hurts your shoulders. you laugh so that it goes away, covering your face as though kenma’s timidness was contagious and has now spread to you.
eventually, when you peer back up at him, he’s grinning almost… triumphantly. despite the blush that covers his entire face, he looks victorious. his face replaces any words he could say, and he turns back to his game without a word.
you, however, struggle to keep your thoughts to yourself.
“can we do that more often?” you ask, leaning your frame against his, nuzzling your face into his warmth.
“yeah, we can.”
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spencerreidenjoyer · 2 months
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insatiable | spencer reid x reader
Spencer learns how amazing sex is with you, but gets caught up with work. You show your boyfriend how good it can feel even if you’re not together physically, and he shows you how much he misses you when he gets back.
part 1 - addicted to you | part 2
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wc: 4.6k, rating: 18+/explicit
tags/warnings: established relationship, phone sex/video sex, mutual masturbation, public (bathroom) sex, brief mentions of typical BAU stuff (not in detail), meeting the family (literally reader meets the BAU), brief mentions of alcohol, making out, vaginal sex, getting caught (not in the act but afterward lmao)
a/n: this is what an insane person does when they're sick for two days and have nothing better to do over the summer. this is a second part to addicted to you (you don't have to read the first part but it does provide some context for some details within the fic), with inspiration taken from a lovely comment I got on ao3 that made me feel kinda crazy. i included some textfic elements in this fic as well which i hope reads well (bold text is spencer)! also I know early seasons spencer technically sets this around 2005-2007 but they have smartphones and video calling (aka present day) so please suspend your disbelief for the length of this fic lmao (p.s this fic is also on ao3!)
Your boyfriend gets whisked away for work sooner than you expect. Spencer’s supposed to have time off the rest of this week, but you suppose killers aren’t exactly respectful of an FBI agent’s time off of work. It’s downright cruel when he’s called in to work on a Friday evening, when you have dinner and wine set at the table, having gotten ready to spend a quiet, romantic evening in with Spencer. 
“I’m so sorry,” he says, rushing to change out of his sweatshirt and joggers into his typical work attire. You stand in the doorway of his room, mildly amused while Spencer panics to put an outfit together. “I know you had a whole evening in planned, but–”
“Don’t be, baby,” you assure him. “You have a killer to catch. Oh, that one– the blue cardigan looks good with those pants. It matches your socks.”
Spencer smiles as he looks up at you, reaching for the navy blue cardigan to his left. He tugs it on rather hurriedly, comes up to you and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the best. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
You shake your head. “Just find the bastard quick and come home to me.”
“I know. I will,” Spencer says.
After the both of you found out just how much Spencer liked fucking you, you were really hoping that your weekend together could be spent in his bed, but duty calls. Technically, JJ had called him in, but you’re not concerned about specifics right now.  
You spend the evening alone in Spencer’s apartment, half of the wine finished and his TV playing reruns of some show you haven’t been paying attention to. Your eyelids feel heavy, and Spencer’s bed is so comfortable you can’t bring yourself to leave it. That is, until your phone buzzes on Spencer’s nightstand, and you’re suddenly very alert.
I miss you, darling. > hey, i’m surprised you have the down time to text. i miss you too I’m really sorry I had to leave so suddenly. We’re on the jet right now.  > i told you it’s okay! i’m surprised the jet has wifi lol Taxpayer money, I guess? We land in LA in a couple of hours and we’re heading straight to the PD to work on the case. > my poor boyfriend is working so hard instead of cuddling me in bed :( How you tempt me, lovely. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Are you going to sleep soon? It’s late. > yeah i’m staying at yours for the night and maybe until you get back? really miss you already Okay, that’s good. I know. I’ll call when I’m in the hotel and settled for the day? :-( > yes please. also stop sending emojis with noses they aren’t supposed to look like that!!! They aren’t anatomically correct without them. The way you send them > babe they’re emojis it’s ok if they’re not anatomically correct Hahaha I love you. > lol i love you too! Goodnight, love. > goodnight spence <3 <3
You can imagine, especially from the way Spencer recounts it, how his coworker Derek must be teasing him about smiling at his phone, about how pretty boy’s lucky lady must be one hell of a woman to get Spencer so smitten. 
You would say you’re rather independent, especially in relationships, but Spencer has you acting like a clingy girlfriend. You can’t help but feel an ache in your chest as you long for him while he’s away, feeling like a military wife whose husband is out instead of being normal. To be fair, being with Spencer has never been “normal” – he always has something interesting up his sleeve, or some quirk that makes you even more enamoured with him. 
Your Saturday is relatively uneventful, milling about Spencer’s apartment. You laze around in bed for way too long, enough where Spencer would’ve definitely hauled you out of bed himself an hour ago if he were here. You make yourself breakfast, unsurprised that Spencer only has cereal in his pantry and almond milk in his fridge. You sit down with one of his very sophisticated literature books but you don’t get very far with it, and opt to clean Spencer’s apartment instead. 
It’s when you’re sweeping the floor that you realise just how much you like Spencer, feeling so strongly attached to him already. You’ve said your ‘I love you’s, given him his firsts. You were staying in his apartment even while he was away– hell, you’re even cleaning his apartment for him. 
Just for a moment, you let yourself fantasise about this being your apartment – yours and Spencer’s; about waking up to him every morning, about making breakfast for the both of you that isn’t cereal and almond milk, about coming home to each other instead of an empty apartment. 
You sigh and get back to cleaning.
You’re settled into his bed, surrounded by the comforting scent of him when Spencer finally does call. You almost drop your phone in your excitement to pick up. 
“Hey! Hi, Spence,” you say, unable to help the smile that’s forming on your face. 
“Hello, love,” Spencer answers. He sounds a little tired. You can imagine the little furrow in his brow, obviously exhausted and dissatisfied from a full day’s work of catching some bastard in LA, and you wish you could be there to kiss his frown away. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Spencer. Long day?”
“Absolutely,” Spencer sighs tiredly. “This UnSub is so slippery. No convictions, no paper trail, nothing, and he’s killing every other–” Spencer starts to ramble but he catches himself. “Sorry. I won’t talk about work right now. It’s pretty grim.”
“It’s okay,” you hum. “Do you want to talk about work right now?”
Spencer makes a little noise. “No, no. I don’t want to bring that to you. Let’s talk about you. How are you, honey?”
Honey. The name makes your insides feel all gooey, soft and warm and lovely. “I’m- I’m okay. I stayed at your place, cleaned up around here. I’m thankful it’s not as much of a man cave as I thought.”
Spencer laughs through the phone, a breathy chuckle. “Thank you for cleaning up for me, love. It’s just a lot of nerdy stuff, huh?”
“Yeah. It’s endearing. I tried to read one of your books earlier and could barely get past the first ten pages.” You tell him, garnering another chuckle from Spencer. “I like your place a lot.”
“I miss you,” Spencer says again. “Waking up to you and having you around is so much nicer than this dingy hotel room I’m in.”
“Aw. Taxpayer money couldn’t upgrade you to a better room?” 
Spencer snorts. “No, but I lucked out on getting the room all to myself.”
There’s a pause as you figure out what to say, and Spencer is quick to follow up, “I didn’t mean–”
“Does this have something to do with you missing me, baby?” You can’t help but grin. Spencer makes a distressed little noise over the line.
“Well, I– Maybe, but we don’t have to–” Spencer stammers, unable to find the words. He’s absolutely adorable. 
“I want to, Spence,” you coo. “I miss you so much.”
You hear Spencer exhale shakily. “What– What do I do?”
“A genius like you hasn’t forgotten how to touch himself, has he?” you tease, Spencer whining on the other end at your words. “Does that eidetic memory of yours come with an overactive imagination too?”
“Surprisingly, no. Hyperphantasia is more of being able to visualise different types of situations in one’s mind, and that’s what usually is associated with an overactive imagination. Having an eidetic memory is more about high-precision recall after seeing something even just once. I think having an eidetic memory pretty much ensures you don’t have aphantasia, or the inability to see and create mental images, but yeah.”
Ah, even his nerdy ramblings turn you on. 
“So does that mean you can recall the way I looked in bed a few nights ago?” you prod, and you wish you could see how red Spencer must be by now.
“Well, yes. Of course I can. How could I ever forget how beautiful you looked then?” Spencer’s words are sweet, earnest, and you melt. 
“Then picture that,” you barely get the words out because you’re so smitten. “Imagine I’m right there with you, Spencer.”
You hear the rustling of the sheets, and Spencer’s little telltale whine as he wraps his hand around himself. “O-Oh–”
“I miss you, Spence,” you drawl. “Miss the way your cock fits inside me. You miss my tight cunt, baby?”
“Your mouth is filthy,” Spencer laughs breathily. “But yeah, I do. You always feel so good around me.”
“You’re touching yourself, yeah?” you ask. You get a little whine from him as an affirmative, but your imagination is running wild – you want to see him. “Can you show me?”
“Yeah, I just– Do you wanna switch it over to a video call? I can’t–”
You laugh at your boyfriend’s lack of technical prowess, tapping at your phone screen until the top half of his face comes up. “Hey, I’m just trying to find a good angle–”
“Don’t just flip the camera and show me your dick, please. That would be so unsexy.” You say.
Spencer furrows his brows. “I was not planning on doing that, for the record.” 
You watch the phone move until Spencer comes into frame, the phone likely propped up at the foot of the bed and exposing all of Spencer to you. You might be drooling right now.
“This is… a lot,” Spencer laughs nervously. “I feel so naked.”
“You’re mostly clothed,” you quip. 
“Ha ha,” Spencer laughs dryly. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before.”
“Phone sex? Or calling your girlfriend so you can jerk off for her?” 
Spencer gives you a deadpan look. “Both, honey.”
You grin. “I’m glad to be your first. Now, show me how you make yourself feel good, baby.”
Spencer’s cheeks are a gorgeous rosy red when he takes his cock into his hand again, his tip leaking as he strokes himself slowly. With his eyes fluttering shut, Spencer’s lips part as he indulges himself in his pleasure. Like this, you indulge yourself in admiring all of Spencer – the flush on his cheeks that runs down to his neck, his breathy panting as he touches himself to the thought of you.
“Spence,” you sigh. “You’re so pretty.”
His eyes shutter open as he looks at you, somehow even redder than he already was. “You’re the pretty one, darling. Are you– Will you touch yourself for me?”
You hold back your moan as you nod. You were already in your underwear when you had slid into Spencer’s bed, but now all it takes is you sliding your fingers past the waistband to feel how wet you already are between your legs. “Oh, Spence.”
“Do you feel good, love?” he hums, voice only a little bit strained from his immense pleasure. 
The embarrassingly loud squelch that results when you sink your fingers into yourself is enough of an answer. Spencer grins, and you’re red in the face as you rock your hips down onto your own fingers. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything, honey,” Spencer laughs. “But I wish I could feel you right now.”
“I know, I miss the way you feel inside me,” you pant. “Please, Spencer–”
“Take off your underwear,” Spencer’s voice is breathy as he pleads with you. “I want to see you.”
You prop your phone up so your angle matches Spencer’s, both of you on full display for each other. You watch the way Spencer’s eyes widen when you slide your panties off, the way his eyes are trained on your figure through the screen. He says, “You’re so wet…”
“All for you, baby,” you sigh, leaning back as you slide two fingers back into yourself. You scissor them rather hastily, craving the hurried way Spencer fucks you. “It’s not the same without you here.”
“I know,” Spencer hums. “You look so good like that. I wish I could make you feel good right now.”
You moan, pushing your fingers into yourself deeper, barely hitting where Spencer reaches easily. The squelch from between your legs is obscene. “You do, baby. You’re making me feel so good, just thinking about you.” 
In practically a whisper, Spencer admits, “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
You let out a weak cry, impossibly turned on by your boyfriend’s filthy admission because you didn’t even think he had it in him to say it so bluntly. You slide your fingers in and out hurriedly, your palm giving you the friction on your clit that you crave so desperately. “Spencer–”
Spencer lets out a strangled cry, muffled behind his hand, when he comes. It’s sudden, Spencer’s load painting the soft skin of his stomach, his cock twitching. You moan as you follow suit, wetness drenching your hand as you ride out your own orgasm, imagining his cock inside of you. 
“Oh, fuck.” Spencer gasps, head thrown back as you watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes heavily. His forehead and neck are covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his cock out against the rest of his rather soft, innocent looking outfit is making you giggle just a little.
“You look really hot right now,” you say instead, wishing you could be laying next to him while he recovers.
“I think I should be saying that about you,” Spencer laughs. “You’re gorgeous. You’re so stunning.”
“How long are you going to be away?” You pout. “I like it when I can actually kiss you after you compliment me.”
Spencer smiles sympathetically. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”
“I’ll take phone sex with my boyfriend as a consolation, then.” You wink, making Spencer laugh. 
“Remind me not to get too loud, though. I think Emily is in the room next to me and I really hope these walls are thick enough.” He says, sounding vaguely concerned.
You laugh, and stay on the line a little longer just to relish in a peaceful moment with Spencer.
The next day, when you’re out getting groceries to stock up Spencer’s fridge, you get a text from Spencer.
I don’t know how much Emily heard last night, but she’s been looking at me funny all morning. > lol oops? If we call again tonight, we might have to keep it down.  > if? not when? :) I love you so much. > i know and i love you too :) and you should probably apologise to emily about last night Well, if we’re calling again tonight then maybe I should just give her one big apology when all of this is over. > good idea. now go catch your killer so we can go back to having sex irl Okay!
Unfortunately, Spencer gets too busy to call you again that night, the team working overtime to catch their UnSub, whose kills were escalating exponentially. You don’t find yourself bothered by it, by Spencer disappearing for the night with nothing more than a message sent your way, instead relishing in the fact that it’ll feel even more rewarding when he comes home. 
You’ve never felt this way before, craving Spencer so desperately while he’s away at work. While you’ve only been together a couple of months, you respect that Spencer’s work takes up a lot of his time. It doesn’t mean you don’t miss him, though, as much as you enjoy your alone time.
All of the team’s hard work pays off, though, because they’re storming into the UnSub’s lair by Monday afternoon, and Spencer texts you when you’re just clocking out of the office.
Great news! We caught the guy. We’re packing up at the PD and coming home soon. > omg!!! that’s so great The team wants to go out for celebratory drinks.  > you should totally go ahead and celebrate with them spence! you guys worked your asses off on this case We did. But I’m telling you because I want you to join us. I want you to meet the team too.  > oh? i would love to but are you sure they want me there? Of course, sweet girl. Derek wants to know who has me smiling at my phone half the time, and Emily is asking who I’m calling in the middle of the night. > omg so she did hear you … I think so, love. > … i will apologise to her tonight then I’ll send you the address. Love you > love you too spence <3
There’s just enough time for you to get home and change into a nice outfit – a tight, red dress that hits your mid-thigh, your hair curled and your makeup touched-up before you head to the bar Spencer’s sent you the address to. While you know Spencer’s team is lovely, you do want to make a good first impression.
You see Spencer’s gangly form at the bar when you get there, the rest of his team facing away from you as they get their drinks. You see Spencer’s face brighten as he spots you, raising his hand and waving to you excitedly. The rest of his team notices, and turns to look at you too. You would be shy at all the attention, but Spencer’s unabashed adoration of you, especially in front of all his friends, is giving you more than enough confidence to walk up to the group.
“Hello,” you smile, and the warmth you feel from the team makes you feel welcome already. “It’s nice to meet you all.”
You shake hands with Hotch and Rossi as you introduce yourself. While you had heard of Hotch as a rather cold, serious Unit Chief, the way he warmly smiles at you makes you feel at ease. “So, you’re Spencer’s girlfriend. It’s great to finally meet you.”
“It’s great to meet you too, sir,” you answer rather instinctively, making both Rossi and Hotch laugh heartily. 
“Aaron might be Reid’s boss, but he certainly isn’t yours,” Rossi chuckles. 
Before you can feel embarrassed by it, you get pulled into a tight, warm hug by Penelope, and when she lets you go, JJ hands you a drink, and Derek and Emily are regarding you with knowing smirks. 
“Reid, you are one lucky man,” Derek says, after pulling you into a welcoming hug. “Don’t mess this up, lover boy.”
“I know,” Spencer says, his hand reaching for yours. You lace your fingers with Spencer’s, squeezing his hand comfortingly. “And I won’t mess this up.”
“Lover boy is right, considering what I overheard the other night,” Emily says, looking at you and Spencer pointedly. JJ also has a knowing smile on her face, and you feel your cheeks get hot.
“I’m really sorry about that, Emily,” you smile sheepishly. “I hope Spencer’s apologised for it too.”
“Again, I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Spencer says, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Emily. “I would say ‘We won’t do it again’, but…”
You shriek amidst the laughter of Spencer’s coworkers, Spencer laughing along as he holds onto your waist. You feel adored, so readily welcomed by Spencer’s friends, and you feel like you belong, by Spencer’s side.
After you chat with the rest of the team for a little more, they eventually disperse to do their own things, leaving you and Spencer alone. Spencer looks at you with such adoration in his eyes and you feel like you’re going to melt. “Hi,” he says warmly.
“Hi, Spence,” you say. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Spencer smiles. “But I’m here now.”
“You are,” you breathe, giddy with excitement, and lean in to kiss him. It’s a quick peck, but Spencer pulls you back in like you’re the air he needs to breathe. He kisses you deep, eager, pouring every drop of himself into you. His hands cup your face sweetly, kissing you until you feel breathless. 
“Oh my God, Spencer,” you giggle when he finally pulls back, eyes wild as he regards you. “You really missed me, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Spencer laughs. 
“Do we need to pretend to keep our hands off each other or do you just want to go and make out in the bathroom?” You say simply. You don’t expect Spencer to be down, considering how quickly he’d rattle off the statistics about the germs in a public bathroom, but Spencer smiles at you and pulls you toward the single stall.
You’re thankful it’s a relatively big, clean-looking single stall bathroom, Spencer locking the door behind you as you lean back against the sink. Spencer’s taller figure crowds you in with ease, and you feel swallowed up by him as he kisses you again. He’s desperate, eager as his tongue slips into your mouth, his little noises so deliciously sinful as you kiss him back.
“Spence–” you gasp, in between kissing Spencer back. “Oh, baby–”
“What we did over the phone wasn’t enough,” he murmurs, eyes unblinking as he gazes at you. “I need you right now.”
Sure enough, Spencer’s hard in his pants. He pushes his hips forward, pressing his erection against your thigh. You whimper, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “Please, Spence. You can take me right here, right now.”
You feel just as desperate as Spencer seems, his hands eager as they roam up your body. He’s eager to touch and squeeze and grope whatever he can get his hands on, and you relish in the way his large, sturdy hands grab your thighs, your waist, your breasts.
“You look so good tonight, my love,” Spencer grunts as he presses his face to your neck, his lips kissing up the column of your neck hurriedly. “So gorgeous. Letting me show you off to all my friends too– Thank you, you’re so perfect–”
“Spencer,” you gasp, hand sliding down to rub at his hard-on. You’re so turned on by how aroused Spencer is already, from just kissing you, from just touching you. “Fuck me, please?”
Spencer exhales shakily, lifting you up slightly so you can sit back on the countertop, your legs spread to accommodate Spencer between them. You’re soaked through your underwear, and you watch Spencer marvel at the sight. His hands are shaking slightly as he undoes his belt, pushing his pants down just enough to get his cock out. He’s hard and heavy and leaking, and you find yourself drooling as he strokes himself momentarily.
Spencer’s biting his lower lip in utter concentration, pushing your dress up and out of the way. You expect his hands to slide your panties off, but instead his fingers push the fabric aside, revealing your slick, wet entrance that he presses the head of his cock to. “Oh–”
“Like this,” Spencer says, breathless, his sentence not even fully coherent but you understand, especially when Spencer pushes the tip of his cock into you. You muffle a sob into your hand, feeling so on edge as you accommodate Spencer’s length. 
The burn is perfect, the slow drag of his cock inside of you teetering between pain and pleasure. It’s a primal urge the both of you desperately need to fulfil, and the way he presses into you satiates you so perfectly. Your arms slung around Spencer’s neck, you cry out weakly as he rocks his hips into you, already brutal and hurried with the pace. 
You’ve never felt this undone, so desperate that you’d let yourself get fucked in a bathroom stall. You barely have any alcohol in your system, for you to feel reckless enough to do something like this. Hell, Spencer hadn’t even taken your panties off before he’d started fucking you. The fact that prim and proper Spencer of all people is making you like this makes your head spin. 
“Oh, fuck, baby,” you whimper into his shoulder. “So good, Spence, oh–”
“You feel so good,” Spencer groans, hips stuttering as he tells you just that. “You’re so perfect. I love you.”
“I love you so much,” you hiccup, feeling Spencer drill into you, the muffled slap of his thrusts hitting the back of your thighs. You’re so overwhelmed, pleasure zipping through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, as Spencer fucks you like you’re the only person in the world that matters right now. 
“I’m close,” Spencer gasps, pace growing uneven, hurried, as he chases his pleasure while trying so hard to make you feel good too. “Please, I–”
You cry out as your orgasm hits you, too sudden, too quick. You clench around Spencer as your body shakes, Spencer fucking you through it with desperation. You don’t expect to come so quickly, but you suppose missing Spencer has an effect on you. 
You squelch obscenely with your release as Spencer continues to fuck you, needy and hurried, moaning in your ear as he stumbles into his orgasm too, wracking through his body like he has no control over it. You feel his load spill inside of you, hot and messy, his hands trembling as his thrusts slow.
“Oh, fuck,” you say, laughing slightly. “Holy shit, Spencer. We just had sex in a public bathroom, this is crazy.”
“We just had sex in a public bathroom,” Spencer echoes, sounding mildly panicked. “Oh, my God.”
“It was very fucking hot.” You assure him, holding his face in your hands to look him in the eyes, stopping him from overthinking. “But we should probably go home, because I’m a fucking mess between my legs right now.”
“I might need to take a shower,” Spencer says, his voice wavering slightly. “The sink is technically the most germ-ridden surface in a public bathroom, the damp environment makes it a–”
“Spencer, I love you so much, but for your sake and mine, let’s not talk about germs right now.” You shudder at the thought. “I think I need to take a shower after that too.”
“Let me clean you up, and we can go home.” Spencer, despite his germ anxieties, is rather sweet in cleaning you up. Your panties are ruined with fluids, and you’re starting to feel Spencer’s load trickling out of you when you stand back up, but you relish in the fact that you’re going to be back at his apartment soon enough. 
(The fact that Spencer hadn’t corrected you when you called his place home, makes your heart sing.)
You clean up your makeup and make your hair look as presentable as it can be, especially after your boyfriend has literally fucked you in a public bathroom, and when you both look presentable enough, you try to slip out of the bathroom casually.
Unfortunately, Derek and Emily are right there, catching you in the act of leaving, obviously noting the way you and Spencer look absolutely dishevelled. 
Derek raises his eyebrows, grinning. “Damn, lover boy.”
“Shut up,” Spencer retaliates weakly, his voice slightly shaky. 
“We’re heading home first,” you say with all the confidence you can muster, trying very hard not to feel extremely embarrassed in front of Spencer’s very smug friends. You’re still holding Spencer’s hand, and you feel a little less afraid. “It was fun getting to meet you guys.”
Emily shakes her head playfully, smiling. “We’d love to hang out more with you another time. Maybe when Reid isn’t so desperate to get alone with you?”
Spencer makes a displeased noise, but you smile and nod at her. “Definitely.”
Derek and Emily let you slip out of the bar without saying much else, and you hope that the rest of Spencer’s team doesn’t hear about it. 
As you and Spencer step out of the bar and into the cool, evening air, you kiss his cheek once more. “I love you. Now, let’s get home so we can shower. And then we can have sex again in the comfort of your bed?”
Spencer grins, any earlier embarrassment seeming to melt away. “That sounds perfect. God, I love you.”
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can i request cregan stark modern au, with jaces younger or twin sister and maybe they like hide the relationship and its like fluffy and maybe smutty
Request: five times cregan and jace’s sister almost get caught and one time jace does find out about their relationship. I don’t think he would be too mad. He knows cregan is a good guy and would treat you well. 
I usually dislike body hair (personal preference) and beards, but Cregan has a short beard in this one (as he does in all of my fics for him) because I said so, and because he’s a Stark. I think it is mandatory and missing for his character — manifesting for a beard in season 3.  Also, this is 6.6k words...idk how that happened
p.s. You can find this fic on AO3 under the title Who are we to fight the alchemy
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), mention of a fight and blood, short appearance of Larys Strong (he needs his own warning),
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When you started college and moved in with Jace, he had warned his teammates that his sister was off limits and that if he caught any of them looking at you, he would not be afraid to throw hands. He may be smaller than a lot of his teammates, but Jace was very protective of you. 
They were good guys, brothers to Jace, but he also knew their history with girls. He knew the dirty secrets; the dramas, who they had sex with, where, and details that he wished he could forget about. They were not boyfriend material — at all. 
You were not going to lie, Jace’s teammates were hot hockey players. It was tempting to turn your life into a cliché book trope and hook up with one of them, but you refrained from doing so. They were not worth being another name on their list. 
Until one of them changed your mind. 
It was a Tuesday night. You were in your room, reading on your bed while Jace had friends over playing video games. You could hear them shout at the TV and each other. After a few chapters, you wandered to the kitchen to get a cookie from the cookie jar, but found its content empty. 
‘’Jace,’’ you said under your breath. 
Living with your brother had a certain strange familiarity to it, a comforting echo of home despite the newness of being on your own. But some things hadn’t changed. Like how Jace never mentioned when he emptied something. Like that one time you wanted to make spaghetti, only to discover he had left an empty pasta box in the cupboard. Or when he used your shower towel because his was in the laundry. These moments made you miss your mom's presence — she’d always been there to keep the peace and enforce some order.
As you stared at the empty jar with frustration, one of Jace’s friends walked in behind you, his eyes immediately landing on the same spot. You could not see who it was, but his tall shadow was towering over you and you could smell a faint woodsy cologne. 
‘’If you’re looking for a cookie, Jace ate them all,’’ you said, throwing your brother under the bus.
‘’That was me, actually,’’ admitted a deep voice with a northern accent from behind you. You turned to see Cregan standing there, his expression sheepish. ‘’Jace said to get anything I wanted. Sorry.’’
You forced a smile, the irritation fading as your eyes met his gray ones. ‘’It’s fine. I’ll get something else.’’ 
Cregan watched as you moved to the freezer above the fridge to get the ice cream out. You opened the lid and saw that it was almost empty, so there was no need to put it in a bowl. 
‘’Did you make them?’’ he asked as you reached for a spoon in the cutlery drawer.
‘’I did,’’ you answered with a smile. 
‘’They were really good.’’ 
‘’Thank you. If Jace baked them himself, they would have turned out like hockey pucks: black and hard,’’ you joked.
Cregan offered a light chuckle as he stepped towards the counter, his gray eyes studying the details of your face. He hadn’t really looked at you until now, respecting Jace’s warning, but now he was struggling to look away and go back to the living room. 
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
Two months later, you found yourself making out with the Wolves’ captain in his big jeep. His hair was damp and he smelled strongly of soap and deodorant, having showered twenty minutes ago after practice. 
The windows were beginning to fog as you were kissing, your hands all over Cregan's shoulders and chest. His tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to grip his shirt when it grazed yours. You could drown in his kisses. 
Getting frustrated by the gear shift separating you, you attempt to climb over it and fumbled your way to the driver seat onto Cregan’s lap without breaking contact with his lips. You bumped your head and legs along the way, and let out a little curse. Cregan laughed, pulling back his seat as far as it would go so the steering wheel would not press in your back. 
From his new angle, you could feel the warmth of Cregan’s body against yours. It wasn’t as effective as cuddling in bed, but Jace would get home soon and Cregan’s small dorm bed was not made for two. He barely fitted himself. 
He slipped his large hands under your shirt, his thumbs inching up and up your sides, feeling your soft and warm skin while his mouth locked itself to your jaw. ‘’Your brother would kill me if he knew about us,'' he said as his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses up to your collarbone.
You rolled your hips to meet his, the friction causing Cregan’s breath to stutter. His hands were still in your shirt, large and warm, leaving trails of fire over your back. He felt like he was sixteen and in high school all again, not twenty-one and in college. 
‘’Gods, you’re going to kill me if your hand keeps going rubbing against me like that.’’ 
You smirked and tipped your head back to give him more room. ‘’Jace is not the boss of my relationships. I can see whoever I please,’’ you replied, raking your hand through his hair and grazing the side of his short beard.
Cregan scoffed against your neck. ‘’Then what are we doing in my car instead of your bed?’’ 
He was only teasing, but it still made you sigh. You didn’t think living with Jace would put a wrench in your dating life. He meant well, but gods was it frustrating. 
Not waiting for your response, Cregan continued to shower your neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at the skin before his lips soothed it. You didn’t think kisses would make you feel like this, but this man had an effect on your body that you could not explain. You pulled at his hair when he bit at the sensitive flesh there, leaving a small mark you will have to conceal later. 
You wished you didn’t have to hide your relationship. You wished you could kiss him whenever you desired, go to his games and wear his jersey and cheer for him loudly when he scored a goal, cuddle with him on the couch without looking at the door every five minutes to check if Jace was coming home. 
Cregan pulled back suddenly, looking up at you with his gray eyes. ‘’I should go, Jace is gonna come home soon. Walking from campus to here takes less than thirty minutes,’’ he said in a hushed tone, his breath coming in short puffs. 
‘’Just a few minutes more,’’ you bargained, stealing a few kisses from his lips, not yet ready to part. ‘’I have a class at 8pm tomorrow and you leave for your away game Saturday morning. I won’t be seeing you until Sunday or Monday.’’ 
He let out a sigh, also dreading the moment he’ll leave you, and held you for a moment, his hands gently running up and down your back. You drinked in his scent and warmth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your head in his neck. 
The moment was ruined as you shifted and accidentally hit the horn with your ass, the loud sound echoing  in the parking lot. 
Startled, you jumped and then burst into laughter, but Cregan didn’t join in. His expression was stone serious as he stared intently at something in the distance. Confused, you followed his gaze and spotted Jace standing by the doors of your apartment building, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He was scanning the parking lot, clearly trying to figure out which car had honked, but with the lights off and the evening darkness, there was no way for him to tell which one it was.
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
The second time you almost got caught together was before a hockey game. The team the Wolves were playing against was strong and Cregan texted you to come outside the locker room and give him a good luck kiss.  
You smiled at the text and sent a quick ‘coming’ to your boyfriend. ‘’I’m gonna get something to drink,’’ you told your friends. 
You snaked your way through the students and families waiting in the entrance to get to their seats and quickly made your way down to the locker room. You knew where it was from bringing over Jace’s skates last Saturday at practice. They were essential for getting on the ice, how could he forget them? 
Family, friends — and girlfriends — were not allowed in that area of the arena, so you kept an eye out for anyone from staff. You could always play the ‘I was looking for the bathroom’ card, but it would add another lie on top of the others you and Cregan were piling up since the beginning of your relationship. 
You found him leaning against the wall, waiting. He was in his compression pants and an old Wolves tee shirt, looking like a complete snack. You could see everything in those tight pants. And the way his hair was tied at the back made him look sexier. 
He looked up when he heard someone approach and a soft smile curled on his lips. ‘’There you are,’’ Cregan said, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped to you and pulled you to his chest. You fit against him perfectly, like a missing piece snapping into place. 
He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss, his hand cupping your face gently. It was supposed to just be a quick kiss — a quick ‘good luck’ smooch, not anything too serious. But the moment your mouth met his, you both got carried away. 
Cregan grabbed you with ease by your thigh, lifting you up, and you winded yours around his neck, almost forgetting that he had a game to play in twenty minutes.  
‘’Okay, that’s enough,’’ you decided, breaking the kiss. ‘’You’re gonna be late for pre-game talk.’’
Cregan sighed but gently lowered you back down. Your boots hit the floor, but he didn’t let you go without stealing one last kiss. You smiled into it, then stepped back just as Jace came barreling down the hallway, clearly in a rush.
He came to a stop, frowning when seeing you. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ His gaze shifted to Cregan, suspicion creeping into his voice. ‘’And why are you talking to my sister?’’
Cregan didn’t miss a beat. ‘’She was looking for you, actually,’’ he lied smoothly. ‘’Baela asked her to tell you she wouldn’t make it to the game tonight. She and Rhaena drove home for the weekend for their dad’s birthday.’’
You made a mental note to thank him later for the quick thinking. Baela had mentioned her trip, and Jace had been sulking and pouting ever since, upset that his girlfriend would miss a big game. 
Jace nodded, still catching his breath. ‘’Yeah, I know. She already told me.’’ 
‘’Oh?’’ you played along effortlessly. ‘’She must have forgotten that she already told you. She has a lot on her mind right now, you know.’’ 
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  
Your breathy 'ah's and whimpers were bouncing off the walls as Cregan's strong hands gripped your thighs and held you in place while he lapped at your pussy like a starved man. The intensity of pleasure forced you to grip the headboard. The scruff of his beard was rubbing against your sensitive skin, chafing, but you kind of like it. 
It was your first time having the apartment to yourself for more than two hours, and you were going to make the most out of it. Jace was at a bar in the city with some guys from the team. He won't be back until at least 1am...or even later. 
When you heard about the night out at the bar, you texted your man and let him know so he could come over after Jace leaves. His teammates were disappointed that he was not joining, but Cregan told them to have fun for him. 
He’ll have his own fun with you in the sheets.
The moment he crossed the door, your mouth was on his and you were unbuttoning your shirt, eager to feel his hands on your tits. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mewling at the way he was suckling on your clit. No one ever made you feel this good before. Not that you had a lot of experience to compare with.
His sweet assault on your pussy continued, the sounds you were making making him rock hard. He loved it — pleasing his girl. 
''I'm gonna— I'm gonna come soon,'' you whined, feeling your core tighten and rocking you body forward in the same rhythm, fucking yourself on Cregan's tongue.  
The hockey player let out a low grunt below you, encouraging you to use him how you wished. He let go of one of your thighs to run the back of his hand up your stomach and grab your breast the way you liked, his calloused thumb and finger capturing your peaked nipple, rubbing it as he flicked your clit again. 
Your orgasm hit and you made circular jerks of her hips, pushing down on Cregan’s tongue and chin, drenching both. His name fell from your lips and you continued on like this for a moment, toes curling and legs tensing. Until you had nothing else to give.
He pressed a last kiss to your sensitive clit, then helped you clamber off him. ‘’You remember when I said the cookies you made were really good?’’
You hummed, although confused where he was going with this. 
‘’This is better.’’ 
Your face flamed up at his words, not expecting such a vulgar thing to come out. ‘’Shut up.’’ You smacked his chest, his laugh rumbling under your palm. 
The sheepishness he sported in the kitchen that day had disappeared, revealing a dirty sense of humor you never expected from him.
You thought you would get a breather, a moment to catch your breath between your last orgasm and the next, but Cregan — insatiable — had other plans. He rolled onto his side, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began kissing your body with a slow, deliberate intensity. His lips trailed all over your chest, down to your breasts, and then to your stomach, each touch igniting your desires all over again. You arched into his touch, the warmth of his mouth and the gentleness of his caresses melting away any resistance.
Under his tall and broad stature, Cregan Stark was a teddy bear. A Costco sized teddy bear. On the ice, he was known for his strength and leadership, but off it, he was all heart. He was kind, caring, and protective. His caresses were gentle, and his kisses tender and loving. It was impossible to not feel his love.
Speaking of feeling his love, you felt his hardness twitching and poking at your thigh through his tight boxers. You reached down to slip your hand inside, jerking him slowly. In response, Cregan squeezed your hip and let out a low groan.
‘’I need you,’’ you gasped, feeling him suck at the skin under your left breast. 
It was one of your rules: no leaving visible marks that could raise suspicions. 
He gave one last swipe of his tongue over your nipple and peeled off his boxers, his delicious cock springing up immediately. Your pussy was weeping at the sight. 
You spread your legs to accommodate him, offering yourself to him. He teased at your entrance, his movements deliberate as he bumped against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you that made you whine. His amused chuckle filled the room, clearly tempted to draw out your anticipation even more, but as you shot him a warning glare, silently urging him to stop teasing. 
Cregan shushed you, rubbing your thigh, and just as he was about to breach your walls, you heard the door of the apartment open and Jace’s voice echoing. 
You froze, eyes widening in panic, and Cregan cursed under his breath, realizing that Jace was back much earlier than expected. ‘’Shit. That’s Jace.’’ 
He called your name again and you quickly slipped on a shirt and got out of bed, answering your brother's calls of your name. You couldn't risk him coming into your bedroom and catching his best friend in your bed in his birthday suit…with with a raging hard-on and your juices all over his beard.  
‘’You’re home early,’’ you pointed out, coming down the hallway. 
You studied him as he grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, trying to guess his state of inebriety. He seemed barely tipsy. 
‘’Drama at the bar. Ben got into a fight with some guy over a girl — which he did not know was someone's girlfriend — and we all got kicked out,’’ Jace explained, rummaging through the bag of chips and taking a handful to pop into his mouth before leaning against the counter. 
You shook your head with a sigh. ‘’Typical Ben. He really needs to stop going after girls that are taken. Has he not learned his lesson?''
Your brother laughed, taking more chips. “Whose shirt is that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down at the large shirt you were wearing, then back up at you.
You followed his gaze and saw that you had grabbed Cregan’s tee shirt instead of your sleep shirt…
‘’Dad’s,’’ you blurted out quickly.
Jace frowned, not remembering your dad ever wearing that shirt, but let it go. ‘’What were you up to? I thought you would invite the girls over.''
‘’Eh, no. I...I was having fun by myself,'' you stammered, clenching your thighs and hoping your face was not too flushed. 
It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn’t true either. You were having fun, just not by yourself. 
His face twisted in disgust. ‘’Ew, that’s gross! I did not need to know about that.''
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  
Unlike Ben, Cregan wasn’t the type to get into fights — especially on the ice. He thought it was stupid and pointless, a quick way to end up injured or benched for a few games. As the father figure of the team, he was usually the one stepping in to break up the scuffles, keeping cooler heads prevailing. But sometimes, no matter how careful you are, you get caught in the crossfire and take a punch that wasn’t meant for you.
You shot up from your seat immediately, your heart sinking to your stomach as Jason Lannister’s gloveless fist accidently connected to Cregan’s face. It was aimed at Ben — unsurprisingly —, who had played a foul, unnoticed by the referee, and got his brother Tyland in the penalty box.
Chaos erupted on the ice. The referees were shouting and blowing their whistle, trying to break up the fight. Seeing Ben implicated, Cregan had rushed over, taking it on himself to pull him back, but that's when Jason punched him. 
More players skated over, helping the referees. One grabbed Jason, and another went for Ben. He was lean but feisty, a scrappy fighter who never backed down. He shot a taunting grin at his opponent and spat blood on the ice, right at his feet. Jason tried to free himself, but the closest referee put his hand on his chest, shaking his head. Enough.
Cregan turned to Ben and wiped the blood off his nose, glaring at darkly.  
You didn’t see him until Sunday afternoon. You were coming back from the laundry room, arms full with a basket of freshly cleaned clothes, and forgot how to breathe when you saw Cregan sitting on the couch across from Jace. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie, and his pretty face was decorated with a bruise close to his nose. 
Your feet froze, unable to take another step. You wanted to fucking punch Jason Lannister.
‘’Hey, you’re back,’’ Jace noticed, turning his head towards you.
You nodded, trying to regain your composure. ‘’Yeah. I was doing laundry,’’ you explained, lifting the basket slightly as if to prove your point.
‘’Can you do mine next time? I’ll pay you ten dollars,’’ Jace offered with a grin.
You scoffed, shaking your head. What did he take you for, a housemaid? ‘’Ten dollars to wash your dirty underwear and smelly socks? Never.’’ 
‘’Fifteen,’’ he countered, still hopeful. ‘’My clothes smell better when you do it. It’s like when Mom used to do it.’’
‘’That’s because I use fabric softener,’’ you replied, rolling your eyes.
Jace frowned, clearly puzzled. ‘’What’s that?’’ 
Before you could explain it to him, his phone beeped with a notification. He paused the game and checked his screen. ‘’Food is here. I’ll go get it,’’ he said to Cregan.
The taller one nodded, waiting for Jace to be out the door to glance at you. Without saying anything, you set the basket of clothes down on the beanbag chair that had seen better days and went straight to Cregan, cupping his face gently. His eyes softened at your touch, seeing your look of concern. He reached up with one hand to lightly hold onto your wrist as you examined the bruise on his face.
Cregan gave you a soft smile. He could see that you were worried about him. ‘’I’m fine,’’ he said, yet you couldn’t help but notice a hint of stiffness in his expression. ‘’I’m fine. I promise.’’ He kissed the inside of your hand. 
‘’I’ll fetch you some ice.’’ 
He tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t necessary, but you were resolute. You hadn't been able to take care of him after the game, so you’ll do it now. 
You put some ice cubes that you used for your iced coffees in a plastic bag and brought it to the living room, gently pressing it to the bruise. ‘’Here.’’ 
Cregan winced at the cold, his face sensitive. ‘’Thanks, love.’’ He reached out and put a hand on your hip, tugging you closer, but retracted it as the door opened and Jace returned with the food. 
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
During the course of your relationship, you found yourself in a lot of risky situations, but letting Cregan sleep over was playing with fire. 
You didn't mean to. It was an accident. 
The two of you were watching a movie in your bed while Jace was on a date with Baela, and he fell asleep forty minutes in. You should have woken him when your phone showed close to 11pm, but you didn't have the heart to. You locked your door, turned off your laptop and cuddled against him. 
When you woke up to pee at 1am, you saw that your brother was back and was asleep on the couch with his phone in his hand, the TV playing some older kids cartoons and his leg off the couch. Jace was a light sleeper, it would be too risky to sneak Cregan out.
Morning came and you woke up alone. A sad pout graced your lips. It was your first time spending the night together and you didn’t even get to have morning cuddles or hear his sleepy voice. 
You grabbed your phone, checking if he left any messages, but there was nothing. Just a text from your mom asking if you were coming home for your dad’s birthday this coming weekend. You rolled over, breathing in the sheets where Cregan slept in last night, and left her on read and got up. 
Your morning coffee was calling your name.
Running a hand through your hair, you walked down the hallway, looking forward to that first sip of coffee, and grinned when you found Cregan in the small kitchen, standing in his tight boxers and a tee shirt and drinking black coffee from a Disney mug. It looked Polly Pocket sized in his hands. 
You wrapped your arms around him from the back, your body flush against his. You pressed your face into his back, and the warmth of your body against his made his shoulders relax. 
He smiled to himself, covering your hands with his free one. ‘’Good morning,’’ he said in a groggy voice.
‘’I thought you had left. What of Jace? If my brother sees you in your underwear in his kitchen he’s gonna flip.’’ 
Cregan set his coffee down and turned, his gaze soft as his eyes met yours. The bruise on his face had significantly faded, barely there. ‘’He’s not here. I heard him leave.’’ 
His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you let yourself relax against him. The warmth of his body seeped through his tee shirt, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Cregan's hand slowly traced down your back, his fingers rubbing gentle circles at the base of your spine.  
‘’Don’t you have classes?’’ you asked, glancing up at him with a small smile.
He hummed softly. ‘’Not until later. My 10am class got canceled. I thought I’d hit the gym instead...but there’s no rush.’’
‘’I’ve gotta leave in one hour,’’ you sighed, wishing you could linger in this moment longer.
Cregan’s grip tightened slightly, as if to keep you close for as long as he could. ‘’I can drop you off,’’ he offered. ‘’That way we’ll have more time together.’’
You nodded, pressing a kiss over Cregan’s sternum in thanks. ‘’I’ll make us breakfast...in five minutes.’’ 
To ruin the moment, you heard the loud buzz and a voice coming from the intercom. 
‘’Are you up? Please be awake. I tried texting you and calling but you didn’t respond so I’m taking a chance here.’’ Jace called your name again, louder. 
You groaned in annoyance and went to the door to press the intercom button. ‘’What do you want?’’ 
‘’Yes! You’re awake! Eh, I left my laptop on the counter, and I also forgot my keys...’’
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
When Jace left for college, your parents didn’t see the use of getting a car when everything was close to campus and within walking distance. What they didn’t think through would be the possibility of the bus riding home being full and not being able to make it for your dad’s birthday. 
Jace: Pack your bag. We’re leaving at 4pm. I already told Mom
You: You found us bus tickets? 
Jace: No. I found a ✨chauffeur✨
You: Please tell me it’s not some random person you found on a co-driving forum. I don’t want to spend two hours in some creep’s car 💀
Jace: He’s not
You should have known it would be him. 
Jace called shotgun, forcing you to take the backseat. You didn’t mind. In fact, you preferred it. If you had sat at the front, you were scared your hand would have slipped and revealed your relationship. Or that Jace would have noticed the familiarity between you. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little sister, not someone he knew like the palm of his hand.
Although it was only two hours, the drive felt never-ending. Your back ached from sitting in class all day and your stomach was impatient to be filled with your mother’s cooking. Every now and then, Cregan would sneak glances at you through the rearview mirror, and each time you couldn’t hide your smile. Your brother didn’t see, too busy on his phone or switching the music. 
This weekend was looking to be long and difficult. 
Your mom was more than happy to have another guest over. Cregan was as polite and charming, easily winning her heart when he complimented her infamous lasagna and asked for a second serving. 
''Of course! Help yourself,'' Rhaenyra said, smiling warmly. She glanced between Cregan and Jace, who both emptied their plates quickly. ''It's like they don't feed you at college.'' 
''I live in a dorm,'' Cregan explained in defense. ''It's hard to cook when the only appliances allowed are a mini fridge and a coffee pot.''
Your mother turned to Jace with raised eyebrows, clearly waiting for his excuse. ''And you? What do you have to say for yourself?'' 
Jace grinned sheepishly, swallowing his last bite. ''Can I take the leftover back to college?'' 
At the head of the table, your father let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head.  
When you were seven, you used to sneak out of your bedroom at night to eat a bowl of cereal. It took your parents several months to figure it out. At eighteen, you were sneaking to join your boyfriend in the guest room. 
You waited for everyone to be fast asleep, and avoided the creaking floorboards in the hallway. It was dark inside as you closed and locked the door behind, but you made it to the bed without stubbing your toe on any furniture. 
Cregan stirred when you pulled the covers and slipped in, feeling your cold feet on his calves. ''What are you doing?'' he asked, half-asleep and eyes still closed. He didn't need to see you to know it was you. He simply knew. 
You said nothing and cuddled against him, sighing happily when he reciprocated. 
Morning came faster, the early rays of sun peeking through the curtains. You cursed at yourself, having once again slept longer than planned. You checked both sides of the hallway, and once you deemed it safe, you exited. What you didn’t see was Luke leaving the bathroom, his hair unruly and barely awake. 
‘’I…’’ you stammered, not knowing what to say. 
He was fifteen, you could not trick him like Joffrey. He knew what you were doing in the guest bedroom. 
So you bolted to your own, praying he would keep his tongue.
‘’Luke knows,’’ you blurted out as you descended the stairs for breakfast, the weight of the confession lingering in the air.
Downstairs, your mother had gone all out, setting up a massive brunch spread — eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and even pancakes. Grandfather Lyonel would be coming over...along with your uncle Larys. The thought of him made your stomach twist; you had never been at ease in his presence, but he was your father’s half-brother, and that meant you had to force a smile and be nice. 
Cregan furrowed his brows, concern creeping across his face. ''How?''
You quickly recounted the incident, watching as Cregan ran a hand through his dark hair, his expression growing tense. ‘’You think he’s gonna tell Jace?'' he asked, his voice dropping. ''Or worse...your dad? We got along well last night, but when he’ll find out—’’
‘’My dad is not the one we need to worry about,'' you interrupted softly, trying to ease his anxiety. ''Sure, he’s protective of us, and he might look like the kind of guy who could knock someone out with one punch, but he’d never do that to someone I care about. Not unless he had a damn good reason.''
As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Joffrey got down from his chair and dashed over to you, his small face lighting up with excitement. ‘’Mommy made pancakes!’’ he announced, his big brown eyes practically glowing. ‘’There’s blueberry ones, your favorites.’’ He grabbed both your hand and Cregan's, tugging insistently, messing up your plan to arrive separately.
At the table, Luke was talking — bragging — to grandfather Lyonel about school while Jace was helping your mom bring all the food to the table. And of course, Uncle Larys was just sitting there, observing everything with his usual quiet, unsettling presence.
At Joffrey’s urging, Cregan took a seat next to him. The little one had taken a strong liking to the hockey player, and you couldn’t help but hope that this budding friendship might work in your favor when it would all blow up. 
‘’Careful, it's hot!'' Rhaenyra called out, entering with a plate full of bacon. ''Jace, can you bring the orange juice? Oh, and a small fork for Joffrey?'' 
You interrupted Luke and made your way to Grandfather Lyonel, wrapping him in a warm hug like you always did. ‘’Where’s Dad?’’ you asked, noticing his absence.
The burly man looked around for his son, not knowing either. 
‘’I'm here, I'm here,'' Harwin’s familiar voice rang out from the sliding door as he entered, carrying a bowl of freshly picked strawberries. On top of his head was a handmade birthday crown, obviously crafted by Joffrey. ‘’Your mother forgot the strawberries. I had to fetch some from the garden.'' 
You grinned, stepping up to greet him. ‘’Happy birthday, Dad,’’ you said, kissing his cheek as you wrapped him in a hug. 
Everyone sat around the table, and began filling their plates with food. 
You mostly took blueberry pancakes, and some fruits from the garden. You had a sweet tooth this morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Joffrey talking a mile a minute between bites of pancakes and bacon. Cregan was trying his best to listen to your little brother — what he could make out of his words, anyway — but his attention was completely focused on you.
Two seats down from you, Luke was watching. You could feel his gaze on Cregan, and there was an unsettling tension beneath the surface. He knew something. He could let it slip at any moment and throw the whole breakfast into chaos. But, for now, he stayed silent.
‘’So,’’ Grandfather Lyonel began casually as he sipped his coffee, ‘’how's your first year of college treating you? Found yourself a boyfriend yet?''
The word 'boyfriend' had your bite of pancakes catching in your throat. Grabbing your coffee, you took a long gulp to wash it down, buying yourself a moment.
You shook your head, managing a calm smile. ‘’Not really. I’m keeping my focus on my academics,’’ you replied, briefly raising your eyes at Cregan, who was focussing on eating the content in his plate. The last time he had a home-made breakfast was with you. 
You thought you were being discreet, but your grandfather noticed the short glance, as did your father who was right next to you. 
Joffrey, oblivious to the tension, piped up, ‘’Jace has a girlfriend. Her name is Bella.’’
‘’Baela,’’ Jace corrected with a fond smile, shaking his head at the enthusiastic six-year-old.
Grandfather Lyonel smiled, happy for his grandson. ‘’That’s a lovely name.’’ He then turned to Cregan. ‘’And you, Cregan? Got a girlfriend? A handsome, well-mannered lad like you cannot be single.’’ 
Before he could answer, Joffrey piped up with the bluntness only a child could muster. ‘’I think you should date my sister,’’ he declared.  
Jace’s head shot up, eyes wide. 
Before him, Cregan chuckled uncomfortably, clutching his fork. ‘’Why is that, little one?’’
‘’Because you look at her like papa looks at mommy.’’ He said it so pure and innocently, yet it was true. 
The silence that followed was so loud it didn’t take long for Jace to connect the dots. The truth hung in the air, undeniable and clear. Cregan shifted awkwardly in his seat, and you felt your heart pound in your chest.
Jace glanced between you and the one he called his best friend. His nostrils were flared, shock and outrage painted across his face.  ‘’How long has this been going on?’’ His brown eyes glared daggers at Cregan, waiting for an answer. ‘’How long have you been keeping this from me?’’
‘’Jace,’’ your father’s voice cut through the tension, firm but gentle, an attempt to stop the situation from spiraling any further.
But Jace wasn’t listening, angry at his friend’s betrayal. ‘’How can you betray me like that? I would have expected it from Robb or Theon, not from you. You pride yourself to be loyal and honorable, but where is your loyalty in this? Where is the honor in disregarding my one and only rule?’’  
He was allowed to be upset that you and Cregan spent the last two months seeing each other behind his back. It’s a reaction that was expected. But you hated that he was painting his best friend as the villain. Cregan never used you, it was never his intention. He knew what he was risking when he kissed you back that rainy afternoon in his car. Yet, he couldn’t ignore his feelings — and neither could you. 
‘’How can you make this all about you?’’ you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. ‘’Can’t you see past your own selfish feelings that maybe Cregan does love me for me and not just to piss you off? This is exactly why we didn’t tell you anything.’’ You gestured around the room.
Cregan, who had remained silent until now, took a deep breath before speaking, his voice calm but firm. ‘’You know I don’t play around with girls. I would never use your sister the way you think I am. Come on, Jace. You know me.’’ There was a pause, allowing Jace to absorb his words, then he continued. ‘’I’m truly sorry for keeping this from you, but can you blame me? Put yourself in our shoes. You think I wanted to sneak around and lie to everyone about the girl I love? It might look cool in movies, but it’s not in real life. It’s just stress and pain.’’  
The room was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. No one dared speaking around the table. It was only silent glances. 
What a way to ruin your father’s birthday…
A few hours later, you found yourself sitting outside, your heart heavy. The house had grown quiet after the earlier commotion, the celebratory mood from the family gathering long gone. Grandfather Lyonel and uncle Larys had left. The former had apologized for starting the conflict, but you told him it was not his fault. It was bound to happen anyway. 
You apologized to your father — and mother — for ruining his birthday. It was his turn to shake his head and pull you in his arms. 
The air had gotten colder as it neared sundown, but you didn’t want to go inside. You liked the soft stillness of the open air. It was a calming contrast to the fight from this morning.
The drive back to college was going to be tense tomorrow. You already dreaded it. 
Unbeknownst to you, Jace was watching you through the glass of the sliding doors. He stood there for a moment, observing you and Cregan sitting quietly together on the patio furniture. Your head was leaned on his shoulder, curled up at his side, and his left arm wrapped around you. He recognized the Wolves hoodie on your back, Cregan’s number and name on it. 
It wasn't until he saw Cregan kiss the top of your head and the soft smile that instantly bloomed on your face that Jace realized that maybe Cregan was good for you.
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hairmetal666 · 4 days
Text
Steve has done interviews before. Like, a lot of interviews. YouTube, podcasts, print, TV stuff. Not as a brag, or anything, just. He's been an influencer for a long time, for better or worse, and it's part of the deal.
Usually, he's comfortable in front of the camera. Usually, he's poised and well-spoken. But today, this time, sweat pools under his arms and beads along his hairline, the lights beating down on him in a harsh glare.
"Steve Harrington," Murray Bauman crosses his legs, smiles big for the cameras. "It's been a while."
He smiles too, tries to seem like he's not about to have a panic attack. "I've been a little busy."
Murray laughs and it's then that Steve understands how screwed he really is. Murray's show, it's all glitz and glamour on the surface; mixed drinks and hijinks until the celebrity guests lose their inhibitions, admitting things they probably wanted to keep secret.
It's just that, before, Steve didn't have any salacious rumors to worry about, and now--
"You've had a rough year, Steve, yeah?"
"Not my best, for sure." He leans back, tries to seem calm, unbothered.
"I was sorry to hear about your divorce. I think that announcement really took a lot of people by surprise."
His hands clench, but he manages not to shift or bounce his leg. "Thanks for, uh. Yeah. We were also sorry it didn't work out."
Murray nods, face full of sympathy. "You and Nancy, you'd been together since high school? That's almost--what? 15 years?"
"It's--" he clears his throat. "About that long." Steve takes a sip of the drink next to him, an apple martini that's both too sweet and too strong.
"Am I right to assume that you didn't see it coming?"
And isn't that a question? Sure, now in hindsight, he can see the fractures that lead to the end, but six months ago did he--it's all so--what if all along--
"All marriages have rough patches," is what he says. "We just couldn't come out of ours as a couple."
"Do you know what I've found really remarkable about this phase of your life? The content and tone of your videos in the midst of the maelstrom of rumors and gossip didn't change at all. 'Your kids' as you call them, are still as bright and vibrant as ever. You're laughing, dancing, cooking, having a great time."
"I needed that--that normalcy you know? And the kids, they're such an important part of my life, having them around helped."
"Including Nancy's brother, Mike?"
Steve laughs and it's not fake. "Totally including Mike. My relationship with Nancy has nothing to do with my relationship with him."
"He's kind of an antagonist--would you say?--in your videos, though."
"We have conflict sometimes, but it's never serious. We know how to play it up for laughs."
"So, nothing's changed between you?"
"Not at all."
"The cheating rumors." Murray's smile is soft, but all the air still leaves the room.
"What about them?" It's more combative than he means, but--
"Did Nancy cheat on you with Jonathan Byers?"
He swallows and it hurts. She did cheat, is the thing. It's not public information, still only speculation, but--
"You can't believe everything you read, Murray."
"So, she didn't cheat?" There's a glow to Murray's eyes that tells Steve he already knows the answer.
"Like, I said before, marriages are hard. We spent a lot of time apart because of our jobs. It took a toll."
"And she was traveling with Jonathan, yes? He's been her photographer for the past decade, from what I understand."
"They were co-workers, but we're all close. And those rumors didn't help our relationship, for sure. It's--not easy to hear that a bunch of people think your wife and close friend may be having an affair, that people 'ship' them. Even when it's not true, it creates--"
"Tension? Distrust?"
"Both, probably." He takes another drink as he nods. "After a while you do start to wonder if there's truth to it, and you're too ignorant or too--too trusting to see it."
"And it eroded the relationship."
"It certainly didn't help." He takes another drink.
"And how about your relationship with Jonathan's brother, Will. Has that been impacted?"
"Of course not. Never. Whatever happens between Nancy, Jonathan, and I, it has nothing to do with the kids. They know that.
"You talked about it."
"Yes. Extensively."
"I know there's often speculation on the relationship you have with them; if you're really close or it's all for the cameras."
"Murray." He leans forward. "We've talked about this before. I met Dustin through Mike, and the whole group followed. I've known them all since they were 8 years old. They're--I mean, not to be cliche, but they're my family." He sips the last bit of martini.
"And where does Eddie Munson fit into that family?"
The question shouldn't be a surprise, but he almost does a spit take, has to fight to keep it together.
"Eddie?"
"Yes." Murray's smile is chilling. "Your close friend Eddie Munson. Musician. Plays Dungeons and Dragons on YouTube. You made out with him in a music video. Ringing any bells?"
"I'm familiar with Eddie," his grin is rigid. "I don't know what that has to do with my marriage ending."
"Well, the rumors weren't all about Nancy, were they?"
"Eddie and I have--we became mutuals online years and years ago. I used one of his songs in a video and the kids are obsessed with his dnd stuff, so. We've become close."
"Friends?"
"Isn't that implied?"
"After that music video, I don't think so."
Steve rolls his eyes, lets the irritation show for the first time. "He asked me to be in his video. There's nothing scandalous about it."
"What's your relationship with Eddie right now?"
"Like I said, friends."
"Do you want it to be more than that?"
"Eddie's really important to me."
"Is that all?"
"Not really sure what you want me to say here, Murray."
"You were married to a woman for years, but now there are questions about your sexuality."
He grits his teeth. "My sexuality isn't anyone's business aside my own. People can say shit on Twitter all they want, that doesn't mean they know me. But--the end of my marriage--it definitely gave me the space for self-discovery, I guess? In a way I hadn't had before."
"And is Eddie a part of that self-discovery?"
"Yeah, as one of my closest friends, he is."
"Do you have feelings for him?"
"That's--that's not--I'm going through a divorce. My focus isn't on starting another relationship right now."
"You, famously, tattooed your initials on the inside of his thigh during an Instagram live. That's pretty intimate."
"We were just having a little fun."
"Huh. That seems like more than 'a little fun' to me. So, how's Eddie doing with the increased attention?"
It takes Steve a second to track the change of subject, mind still stuck on the tattoo, on how the ink had looked on Eddie's pale skin.
"It's hard." Steve eventually answers. "Of course he enjoys bringing his music and dnd to a wider audience, but the focus on his personal life is--it's a lot."
"Well, he should have thought about before letting you tattoo him for your 850,000 followers. Does he want a relationship with you?"
His throat is dry, burning, he wishes he had more martini. He wishes he'd never taken a sip. "You'd have to ask him. I'm just taking it day by day, you know? That's what I need right now."
"We're getting to the end of our time, but you know I have to ask. Your best friend, Robin Buckley, she very famously unfollowed both Nancy and Jonathan on all social media when news broke about your divorce. Can you tell us why she unfollowed them?"
"I have no control over Robin's accounts. I didn't even know she followed Jonathan ever, and she and Nancy have a relationship outside of me, you know? I can't say what happened between them."
"She's been in your videos with Eddie. She like him?"
"Very much. It's kind of annoying actually. They keep ganging up on me."
"Much to everyone's delight, I'm sure. So, what can we expect from the newly single Steve Harrington?"
"There are a couple things in the works, but only time will tell."
---
He walks through his front door an hour later, and Eddie's sitting on the couch, playing a soft melody on an acoustic guitar. He stops when he sees Steve, setting the guitar aside, and standing.
"How'd it go, baby?" He asks. His soft smile is so beautiful, Steve gets a lump in his throat.
"As expected." He crosses the space between them, lets Eddie pull him close.
"He ask about us?" Eddie's breath tickles his ear.
"Of course."
"And you--"
"I want--it should be just for us. We should be able to announce when we're ready. Not when Murray-fucking-Bauman asks."
Eddie kisses him, then, sweet and slow, making him lose his breath.
"Whenever you're ready, I'll be right by your side."
"You sure? All my mess--"
"Is mine too. Afraid you're stuck with me for the long haul, Steve Harrington."
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thesilmarillionblog · 2 months
Text
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.
Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), Heavy angst, hurt, memory loss, forced abortion, implied pregnancy, obsession, Soldier Boy gets hurt, reader gets hurt, established relationship, manipulation
Word Count: 4842
A/N: English is not my first language.
This is inspired by the song 'Remembrance' by Memoria Futuri.༊
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You were alone in the coach watching TV when you heard the door open. You instantly got up and stared at Ben when your ruminations started to take over. He shot you a little smile that made your heart race. 
Ben sent you a meaningful look, and you followed him to his room just as Butcher and the others were getting into a fight.
His broad, powerful arms wrapped snugly around your entire body as he left his shield behind and gave you an instant hug. It was unclear who rushed to get into the arms of the other one first. You planted a gentle kiss on his neck, your fingers trailing behind the ends of his messy hair. 
With his gloved fingertips gently brushing your cheek, he whispered, “I missed you so fucking much.”
Between his hard kisses, you laughed and said, “It's only been two days. But I missed you too.”
After giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead, he began to remove his suit and smirked at you, saying, “Yeah, I'd miss me too. So, what did you do when I was away?”
“Actually, nothing. Kimiko and I just played some video gaming all day. I was losing all the time.” You laughed, “Well, I wouldn't want to win against a supe anyway.”
“How dare she?” he asked, smirking, as you stood up and gave him a hard-back hug. You then planted a strong kiss on his bare back and rested your cheek against it. 
“You act like you didn't miss me as much as I missed you, but you can't just keep your hands away from me, right?” Ben laughed, turned around, and gave you a tight squeeze while firmly holding your ass and giving you a passionate kiss. 
Your hands on his beard went into his hair and pulled, trying to stop him, as he pressed his shaft to your body a little too roughly and eagerly. You were moaning softly into his mouth. 
“Fuck, baby, don't you even tell me-.”
“I'm sore, quite a lot,” you said as soon as you smiled into his mouth. 
“I hate this word. It's been two days already,” he grumbled while keeping touch your body and applying a light pressure, showing his need for you. 
Your fingertips trailed seductively across his tense chest to make him go a little bit wild. “Well, you shouldn't have fucked me all day until I couldn't move just because you would be staying away for only two days,” you said with a giggle. 
He whispered, “You're enjoying this, aren't you?” and planted long kisses on your neck, seemingly trying to convince you change your idea. 
“Of course not,” you muttered as you watched adjusting himself in his sweatpants while maintaining eye contact and then abruptly letting you go with a grunt after giving your ass a little slap. 
“I'll...give you something,” he said, as if he had suddenly remembered a certain thing. “I actually bought you something.” 
With an excited question, “What is it?” You tried to see what was hidden in his hands as he gave you an affectionate little smile. 
“You know those cocksucker CIA bitches pay me well nowadays, as they should, and I'm aware of the fact the fact that I didn't buy you a gift at all, though we have been together for almost a year,” he said. He threw the box aside, showed you a nice ring, and took your hand gently into his, placing it before you could even react. “Do you like it?”
You eventually said, “It's so beautiful,” as you gazed in awe at the ring on your finger. “Ben, this is the most beautiful gift I have ever received. Thank you.” 
Ben took a breath of relief and stilled his hand around your belly. When he was watching, you were looking admiringly at the ring. A proud smile appeared on his face. “You know, once I'm done with Butcher, his crew, and Homelander tomorrow, everything will be different, right?”
When he spoke of the following day, the atmosphere grew more dense. Since he was growing harder to handle every day, you had been under a lot of stress for the past few weeks, but you tried not to show it to him in order to keep him from becoming more concerned. 
You nodded to him and said, “I know.” 
“Hey, it's going to be easy, and I'll be finished with all of them. Like we planned earlier, we'll begin a new life somewhere else. Just you and me.”
Ben's hands lingered around your neck and bare shoulders, giving you the most genuine smile. 
To break the tense air, you teased, “Are you sure you want to share a life with me, away from the company?” as he gently pulled you up and laid you down on the bed in between your small laughs. 
“I shouldn't think about that for the second time,” he muttered, smirking at you as he noticed your face falling. 
You asked him, “What would happen if you thought about it for a second time, though?” and gently hit him, taking care not to injure yourself. 
“Well, I guess you'll never know, so I better not think about it at all,” Ben said, his smile widening as he saw your reaction to it. 
“Asshole,” you gave him a chest slap. 
He grumbled, “I just gave you a ring, and your ungrateful mouth has already started to bite me,” taking advantage of your weak spot to begin tickling you. 
You were so oversensitive that you cried while laughing and shouted in between when he kept tickling you mercilessly. 
“Try calling me names like that once more. Do you want to speak now? Did your tongue get caught by a cat?” As he was on top of you and you were attempting to shove his hands away as if you could ever manage it, he chuckled. 
You choked out, “Bear Dick. Idiot,” and he gave you even more tickling. “All right, please forgive me. I promise not to speak such vile words to you again, sir, Soldier Boy.”
He ended his game with you and said, “Oh, yeah?” He was obviously amused that you addressed him by his supe name. “Are you going to be a good girl?” 
You spoke softly, “I will,” in between gasps. “Aren't I always?” 
Ben pushed himself between your thighs and said, “I don't know; I need to be reminded,” making you feel his hardness. “I might have a weak memory.”
Although you both understood that you couldn't give him everything he desired at this time, that didn't mean you were unable to fulfill his needs. 
As you put your palm over his cock through his sweatpants and muttered, “It's clear,” It was insane that he hadn't softened at all. “I guess I might have to show you how good I am at this point.”
He groaned softly and watched as he removed his huge cock from his pants, placing his hands on both sides of your head. Considering how little your hand was in comparison to his hardness, it made you feel even more horny. 
You made him go a little bit crazy by asking him, in an innocent tone, “What do you need me to do?” Even though you knew you were going too far because you knew he was dying to get inside, you couldn't help but torture him. 
Your thumb pushed the sensitive tip of his redened cock before he could say anything, causing him to growl loudly and curse. “You like it, don't you? You like driving me insane by refusing to let me fuck your cunt.”
Whispering, “Maybe,” you gathered the pre-cum and placed it on your lips while staring directly into his eyes. 
“Fuck that,” he grumbled, quickly picking up your nightgown and ripping off your underwear before tossing it onto the bed. Perhaps you were pushing your luck a little too hard. 
“Ben, I really want it too, but I'm sore,” you muttered, your hands coming to a stop on his rough flesh. 
With a moan, he murmured, “Calm down; unfortunetely I won't fuck you,” and spread your legs. You both groaned as you felt his cock on your pussy. “But it doesn't mean that I can't enjoy feeling you.”
“Use both hands,” he said, and you promptly followed his instructions. When he took over, his body temperature was really high. “Tighter.” 
“Are you sure?” you questioned in a doubtful tone. “I don't want to hurt you.” 
“You think you can hurt me, baby?” he said, placing a possessive fingertips on your chin as the corner of his lips curled. “Now, use both hands to hold it tightly as much as you can.”
His moan was satisfied when you hesitantly followed his instructions, and his strong grasp on your chin caused your heart to speed up. He began to move his hips and slide into your hands between his groans, fucking into them since your palms were slippery with his pre-cum. 
The sound of his heavy balls hitting your clit filled the bedroom, making your cheeks flush. 
Ben moaned, “Come on, baby, do it tighter,” and in an effort to maintain control, he placed both of his hands firmly on both sides of your belly on the sheets. You were getting hornier seeing him try to be gentle with you when all he wanted to do was be rough. You sensed that your pussy was already wet. 
You were doing everything in your power to hold him as tightly as possible in compliance with his orders, but his power was unmatched and was quickly fucking into your hands, making it more difficult for you to grip his cock. 
He immediately groaned in protest when you withdrew one of your hands, but he waited for you to make another move. You both gasped as you began to give him a hard, forceful pump. His veins were clearly apparent, and you could tell he was getting close because he felt considerably heavier. 
He gently moved your hand away with hardness before you could ask him anything. Ben pressed himself on your pussy, moving himself up and down with forceful movements, both fisted hands on both sides of the sheet as he stroked his cock against your wetness. 
Your walls clenched, and you lifted your hips to match his motions. When he began kissing you, you tried to stop your moaning in his mouth by placing your hands on his biceps and holding on tightly.
Ben watched you with an intense glare as your walls began to tighten around nothingness and you started shaking from your climax.
He mumbled, “Yeah, just like that, baby,” as you continued to scream and orgasm.
As soon as your orgasmic effects subsided, Ben grabbed your torn underwear from the bed and began to spill himself over it in front of your startled eyes. Between his grunts, you kept your hands on his flexing biceps as he continued to spill his thick ropes on your torn underwear.
He gasped and beat his cock a little harder to totally spill himself. “I'll come inside you next time,” he said. 
You teased him, “You better,” as your fingers worked over his tense muscles. 
“You little tease,” he said as he finished throwing your ripped underwear on the ground and planting a forceful kiss on your forehead and neck. 
You yawned, and Ben embraced you in his warm arms and adjusted your nightie very gently, right after he'd shoved his dick back into his sweatpants. 
“You smell exceptionally nice these days,” he said, continuing to smell your neck and hair. 
“So you're telling me I smell bad normally?” 
“Of course, that wasn't what I meant, my dear. You're also a little more sensitive than normal, huh? And pretty  dizzy.” To calm you down, Ben planted a kiss on the corners of your mouth. 
You silently said, “Maybe it's because you're touching my nerves, old man,” and buried your head in his heated chest. You must have felt exhausted in such a short period of time due to the powerful orgasm. 
“Behave. You were so docile and obedient moments ago.” You gasped in surprise as Ben gave you a light slap on your bare ass and said, “Now your claws are back, I see.”
You moaned out, “Let me sleep,” resting one leg on his. 
He laughed as he saw you practically nod off in a matter of seconds. 
Ben immediately whispered, “I love you,” causing your lips to curl with happiness and your heart to melt. He was undoubtedly aware of how these three words would affect you. 
“I know, and I love you.”
You felt Ben's lips curve on your hair as his arms tightened around your entire body. 
You gave Ben a small smile, hoping that this day would end as soon as possible, while Butcher, Ben, and the others were talking about what to do in Vought Tower when they encountered Homelander.
“Now, you're all going inside, behind this door, and waiting for us, ladies.”
“What are you doing?” Annie answered immediately, and Hughie gave her support against Butcher and Maeve.
“We don't need any more issues than necessary. It's Vought Tower that we're going to go to, not some ordinary place. Now, get inside, dear one.”
Hughie, Frenchie, and Annie began to argue with Butcher, telling him they wouldn't divulge what they were commanded, but Ben threatened them all by simply touching his gun, so they all gave in.
Just as you were taking a step back, Ben slapped your ass and urged you gently into the vast space with a mischievous smirk on his face.
“You get inside, especially,” Ben muttered, disregarding all of your complaints. “Be a good girl.”
Ben gave you a wink before they closed the door. You wished you could have assisted him there; you wanted to be with him.
Annie and Kimiko finally succeeded in breaking through the thick, locked door after a great deal of effort.
You immediately said, “I'll come with you too,” in a serious manner. Before anyone else rejected you, you stated, “I'm not the only regular human here. As a member of the team, I will be coming.”
You sighed with relief as Frenchie and MM finally nodded at you after exchanging an odd look.
Thanks to Annie, you were able to enter Vought Tower despite its difficulty. Given how easily Ben was able to smell you, you intended to keep an eye on the issue from a distance so as not to burden or distract him. On the other hand, your eyes grew wide as you noticed Ben and Butcher fighting. Actually, Butcher was the one who attacked him nonstop. Annie looked on in disbelief as Frenchie and MM hurriedly fled the area with some things in their hands.
You cried out, “Butcher!” with fury as soon as you witnessed Butcher unleash his super lasering powers on Ben. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“And what the hell are you doing here?” Ben shoved Butcher to the ground, gave him a disgusted look, and roared back. “Get the fuck out of here.”
His shield was shattered.
When you went to Annie and Kimiko to tell them to take action and find a solution to this situation, they both attacked Ben as well, backing Butcher. Your heart was racing behind your chest as Butcher and Ben continued to fight and hit each other.
When her eyes began to shine with maximum intensity, you cried as loudly as you could, “Annie, stop this madness,” but no one was paying attention. You could have found and utilized one right now if you hadn't injected yourself with enough Temp-V.
Ben violently grabbed Kimiko by the neck and threw her. Before you even knew what was going on and attempted to break up Butcher and Ben's intense fight, Butcher threw you against the closest table with such force that your head was hurting so badly that you were unable to find the strength to get back up.
It felt like the back of your head was bleeding, as was your lower stomach. You continued to mumble Ben's name until you lost consciousness. You were quite concerned for Ben when you last saw them trying to put gas on his face in an attempt to get him to fall back asleep. He was betrayed by his team another time, and you couldn't even stop it.
It was unfair and cruel because, if you could only get it through today, you and Ben would have too many dreams come true.
Ben watched you lose consciousness as a result of Butcher throwing you away, acting as though it didn't matter that you were a frail human and that you would die there. His chest began to glow—it was actually burning—at that moment. He was completely out of control just by looking at you, even though you were still breathing.
He knew that you needed him, so he wanted to stop himself. If he had blown up right now, he wouldn't have cared if he killed everyone in his immediate vicinity, but he could have killed you in less than a second as well. Yet Ben's reasonable rage towards Butcher and everyone else persisted. He began to lose consciousness, but thankfully, Queen Maeve grabbed him and leaped out of the window before he exploded. You would be alright; at least your heartbeats were still strong.
As the gas put Soldier Boy to sleep once more, Butcher and the others inhaled deeply as they observed his hauntingly dozing body on the bed, prepared for his return to Russia. When Butcher first spoke with the CIA about it a year ago, it was already part of the plan. However, because Homelander was still alive and they all risked everything for nothing, Butcher just didn't know it would be carried out in this way, and the whole operation was a complete failure.
Kimiko began speaking hurriedly in sign language, concerned for you, as she carefully picked up your unconscious body and laid it on the table.
Frenchie exclaimed, “Kimiko is right. We have to take her to the hospital. She is bleeding from the head and everywhere.”
“Alright, you're right. Since I'm the one who did the job, I'll take care of this, right?” Butcher muttered in a rough tone. “Frenchie and Kimiko, follow me. It looks like cleaning up this mess is going to take some time. Right now, we can't go to the hospital.”
Butcher had contacted a long-time medical acquaintance of his who handled sensitive cases with undercover agents in order to maintain confidentiality when necessary. He knew two doctors to solve this mess, fortunately. Once they had a conversation and you had given them the information they required, they put you in the cold bed, and Kimiko did her best to wipe the blood off your head.
One of the doctors stated after an hour, “She seems fine, but I can't guarantee that her brain is functioning properly.”
“What the heck do you mean?” With a glance at your sleeping body, Butcher asked.
“Her brain injury appears to be rather severe. Memory loss is quite likely. Of course, we can't be certain of anything. She is, nevertheless, physically alright.”
“Well, as long as she's alive, it wouldn't be all that horrible.” Butcher smirked and put his hands in his pockets with a smug expression on his face. Kimiko gave him a hideous look and was clearly upset with him. “I'm sure there are many things she wants to forget anyway,” Butcher said.
“But it's going to be difficult for her to accept her pregnancy at this point,” the doctor said, looking at him perplexed.
“The fuck?” Butcher cried out, hands on his hips, gaze locked on your abdomen as he studied your unconscious body. “Are you fucking with me? Are you positive, for sure?”
“Mon Dieu,” the Frenchie muttered. “That's not good.”
The doctor added, “Of course we are sure,” as he held the files in his hands.
“However, she is still extremely early in her pregnancy. Perhaps not even she knows it herself.”
The doctor continued, even before Butcher reacted. “There's more. It does not appear to be a typical pregnancy.”
“For god’s sake, give me some slack. What do you mean at this point?” Butcher yelled out.
“I'm trying to say that it appears to be a fully developed fetus developing inside her. The fetus appears to be in excellent health based on what I can tell from her results. It's definitely a supe baby.”
Kimiko and Frenchie exchanged a look, and her eyes grew wide. For a minute, silence engulfed the room, and none of them could think of anything to say.
Butcher inhaled deeply and narrowed his gaze as he studied your figure, his mind racing with ideas. “So you're telling me she's pregnant with a supe baby, right?”
The doctor said, “That's exactly what I'm telling you. Who's the father, by the way?”
The doctor stared at Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko curiously while they looked at each other, troubled. They weren't entirely certain about the nature of your relationship with Soldier Boy, but they were aware that you two had a sexual interaction. They were aware that you only ever saw him and that you didn't know other super heroes than Soldier Boy.
“It's classified.” Butcher immediately cut it off. “All right, prepare her for the abortion. She must get rid of this thing right away to prevent the situation from getting out of hand.”
“What?” Frenchie yelled; he was horrified by Butcher's callousness and his discussion of killing your unborn child as if it were no big deal.
With a furious look on her face, Kimiko grabbed Butcher by the chest and began yelling in sign language.
“Kimiko is exactly right. You have no business deciding what to do with her body. It's between her and him. Fuck off, Butcher. You're being too much.”
“Are you two fucking out of minds?” Butcher screamed, his nerves already raw from what had transpired. “Obviously, I wouldn't make this choice if she was carrying a typical fetus rather than the most dangerous one. Are you even mindful of what happened to my Becca?”
Butcher had never considered talking about Becca and had disliked discussing his past, but with Kimiko and Frenchie staring at him with disapproval, he realized that he had to. He had to try, even though he knew they would never be able to understand fully.
“She was treated by the most skilled physicians in Vought when she became pregnant by—you know who. Do you know what happened? The monster that was growing inside her womb destroyed every organ and tore her stomach apart when her water broke in an attempt to go out. There, she fucking nearly died in her bloody bed. Almost.” Butcher spat forth his hatred, emphasizing every word in order to make clear the gravity of the situation. “Y/N will never survive this. She also took a great amount of Tempt-V in the past few months. Her body is already too fragile.”
“Don't give me that kind of look. I'm not enjoying this, but someone needs to make important decisions for the better,” Butcher angrily remarked to Kimiko, who remained expressionless and continued to gaze at him with hatred, as though he were her biggest enemy. “It appears that she will likely suffer from memory loss without realizing it. Since we already took care of the matter there, she can start fresh. That man will never enter her life again after all, okay?”
“No matter what,” Frenchie inhaled deeply. He didn't like what was happening and was concerned by it. “She'll be living a lie. This is wrong.”
Butcher interrupted him as he was getting close to your sleeping body on the white bed, saying, “Shut the fuck up. What she is unaware of is not going to hurt her. Here is where we are going to solve this situation. After all, we are in the business of killing supes. Stop complicating things and becoming overly sensitive.”
“Screw you.” Frenchie retreated a step. “You're discussing the murder of a baby. Whether or not it's a supe doesn't matter. I refuse to participate in this.”
“Are you truly aware of what will happen to her if she gives birth? First of all, she is not going to survive and will die in childbirth. Second, Vought will learn of the baby's existence and raise it to become their new puppet, capable of murdering others for amusement. Numerous people will be harmed by it. We cannot handle one more offspring of a bastard. Get your ass act straight and quit being so fucking emotional because she won't even know this.”
If Butcher hadn't been on Temp-V, Kimiko's hands could have crushed his chest from giving him such a severe shove by the chest. She kept the same expression on her face and kept on utilizing sign language.
“From now on, nothing can stop me, so you two go fuck out of here. She'll be alright when this nightmare is over. We are all fortunate to have discovered this crap earlier than she did, and her mental health will benefit even more from the assistance with her memory loss.”
“Come on Kimiko, let's go,” Frenchie mumbled while examining your body with sympathy. He understood that nothing would work out the way Butcher planned since it was now beyond disaster. This was not good.
Kimiko tried to talk to Frenchie, but he said, “It's not our job. This is bigger than us, Kimiko. Let's just get the fuck out of there.”
She had an expression of despair on her face, and despite her repeated attempts to speak with Frenchie, he begged her to get out of the chilly, desolate room as soon as possible. They unwillingly exited, leaving you in the room alone with three monsters.
A doctor said, “Butcher, we have known each other for years, and I know you are not a bad guy, but we cannot just kill her baby without her permission.”
Butcher inhaled deeply as he placed a finger on your covered abdomen and uttered, “That's not an innocent baby there; that's a monster, a natural Supe, and a potential killer. You already know that the CIA never approves such things. We will not permit the birth of any more Homelanders. Fucking do it already and keep your mouth shut; you'll be paid handsomely.”
The female doctor began to get ready to do the procedure. “We don't want to deal with an issue if she or the man she got pregnant by finds out this,” she stated.
“They won't; this will remain a secret, and nobody will ever discuss it, so let's be positive; she doesn't remember anything, am I right? How fortunate we are to live in a nation where medicine and technology are so advanced. That would be very helpful as well, my dear.” Butcher winked at the doctor, acting as though everything was normal.
Butcher scowled when he noticed the elegant green ring on your finger after they had both briefly left the room. He had no idea what this meant or even whether it was from Soldier Boy, but it was preferable to leave no trace and not take any more chances. He removed your ring from your finger and threw it into the closest tin in the room for this reason.
After what seemed like an hour of waiting, they eventually finished the procedure, and Butcher exhaled with relief when he was informed that it was finished. Where Butcher tossed your ring, they threw the dead fetus that was removed from your body in cold blood. Everything was in order.
Butcher spoke with the doctors about your condition once more, ensuring that you slept until you had fully recovered physically. He also paid them off and reminded them not to discuss what had happened with anyone else.
He knew you would soon be alright.
Next Chapter
⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆
A/N: Here we go… Comments are very much appreciated. I’d like to know what you think about this one.  ♡
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kithtaehyung · 2 months
Text
lollipop (3tan) (m) | myg
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title: lollipop (m) | part one: summer bbq pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after the summer cookout ends, you say goodnight to your brother and his best friend. but the latter just had to have a lollipop in his mouth… and had to make you aware of it hours later.  note: this is part two of the three tangerines drabble summer bbq! undisclosed whether these are in the main storyline or not, so it’s a standalone for now. note 2: also..... hope y'all read this in private :))) hahahah  warnings: yoongi is the biggest warning, but reader almost inches him out here🤭, no joke we may need to form a new line for reader, kissing, hella kissing, a mirror makes an appearance.. 🫣, tense situations, tender moments, lollipop gets its own warning i’m so serious, cocky yoongi lolll explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: july 22nd, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 7.3k💀💀💀
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explicit warnings: food play (just roll with it😂), oral sex (m/f rec), masturbation, the struggle to keep quiet is real, mirrors are involved lord have mercy, spanking, breast play, multiple orgasms, yoongi hands, choking, fingering, face f*cking, titty shotsss, a little bit of manhandling and roughness but we love it🤭🤭, aftercare and cute cute reader afterwards
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It’s not long until you’re snuggled under your covers, every limb in your body relieved to be at rest. From getting ready, cooking for hours, to general host duties—all while trying to avoid sin in human form—you’ve completely exhausted your living battery. 
But for some reason, sleepiness is out of reach. 
Tiredness? For sure. But sleep seems to elude you, and you toss and turn before giving up and turning your television on. 
It’s after you get through two episodes of something random and endless doomscrolling that you get a text. 
From the last person that should be texting you right now.
And your heart slams on every brake it has.
Yoongi [2:37am]: You up?  
Umm.
What.
Why is he asking you that? It’s quite possibly the worst time and type of message to receive right now. 
Don’t overthink it. He probably just needs extra hands to drag your brother back to his room again.
You [2:37am]: mmhmm 
You [2:37am]: you need me for something?
With a sigh, you rest your phone by your side.
The last time that happened was so long ago. Back when you were fighting off sickness and absentmindedly grabbing tangerines to snack on.
You wonder what that man wants this time around.
Yoongi [2:37am]: Haha nah
Yoongi [2:37am]: Just curious
Well that’s interesting.
Is he still in the backyard? Somewhere in the house? You knew he was staying over, but is he in the guest room with Jimin lying down like you are?
Why is that making your soul squeeze? 
You [2:38am]: yeah i am. can’t sleep :\
After hitting send, you feel more awake than ever, staring at your ceiling changing hues from the light of your tv. 
It kinda hurts knowing Yoongi’s the closest he could be tonight. 
On one hand, you still remain feeling safer than ever, having all of them here. But on the other, you’d much rather Yoongi be right next to you, heart beating under the same covers and eyes covering you in moonlight.
He’s so close and yet… 
So damn far. 
Yoongi [2:39am]: Same. 
Your arm slings right over your eyes.
How is one word from him enough to make your legs shift? That is something that needs to be studied, but alas, you would only be the subject if someone paid you for it.
What do you say now? You miss him so much it practically hurts? You want him to be lying next to you even though it’s the riskiest thing in the world?
Maybe start slow.
You [2:40am]: did you have fun today? 
Shit, was that a little too slow? Abnormal? It’s not like you two have as much small talk as other people. Though you wouldn’t mind any type of talking with him at all, casual small talk just isn’t on the list of defaults.
When you check the next text you get, it’s hard to keep your phone from falling onto your face.
Yoongi [2:42am]: I’ll tell you if you open the door :)
Huh.
So much for starting slow what the fuck! 
You [2:43am]: ???
You [2:43am]: front door? 
Yoongi [2:43am]: Yours
There have been many times in which this man has made you speechless. Some just for being so heartstoppingly handsome; others for being the most considerate person you’ve ever met.
But this time?
You can’t even form all the reasons why you can’t form words.
You [2:44am]: ?????
Yoongi [2:44am]: 🤨
Yoongi [2:44am]: Feel like this is pretty easy stuff, doll 
What is happening? What possessed your brother’s legitimate ride or die to stand at your door while still in the same house? When other people are also staying over?
You’re so close. He’s right there. You can see a slight shadow underneath the wooden frame and it’s making your stomach silly.
But you have to be sure.
You [2:45am]: is he asleep? 
Yoongi [2:45am]: Yeah he’s out 
Getting up, you already miss the warmth of your sheets as you tiptoe towards the only thing separating you from the man you’ve yearned for all day long.
Fuck. If this isn’t the worst decision you’re ever gonna make in your life.
But damn it, you already knew you were gonna let him in as soon as he asked.
After checking what you’re wearing before knowing it doesn’t matter, you open your door while fearing what it reveals. 
And Yoongi slowly enters through the night—freshly showered, still studded with jewelry, and decked in clean clothes while dirtying your mind to hell.
Because of the goddamn lollipop in his mouth.
“What’s going on,” you whisper, knowing your brother could wake up at any second. Maybe. Possibly. Everything bad is always possible when you’re paranoid about it—especially since Yoongi is in your room! “What are you doing?”
Your secret wastes no time as he quietly shuts and locks the door, hair shifting down his head in damp waves as he takes out the sucker,
“This.”
Silent, he pulls you in slow for a kiss, melting you down with ease. When he presses you into one of your walls, you know the only thing propping you up is his pelvis molding with your front. 
Already, your senses are on high alert, wondering how long Yoongi plans on staying because as much as you want him here forever, you still want him in one piece. 
But it’s getting hard to concentrate on consequences and scenarios when this man is infiltrating your every thought. His lips feel like summer and his fragrance reminds you of spring, and you immediately know it’s that subtly scented body wash you picked to put in the guest bathroom. 
Strange. You both have now used each others’ soap and showers. That has to mean something intimate, right? How many people can say that about one another and not look into it too much?
Well, he technically hasn’t used the shower in your bathr—
“You looked great today,” Yoongi whispers into your neck. 
His kiss there renders you speechless for what seems like eons. Today. Uh huh. What were you thinking just now? “Thank you,” you finally sigh, relishing in the way he’s holding your side. “So did you.” 
“Thanks.” 
“I mean.. You always do, so. Nothing new there.”
Yoongi quietly huffs a laugh before tugging your hips. But he doesn’t say anything in return, and you wonder if he didn’t have an answer or just didn’t feel the need to. 
So your nerves fill the space again. “Is it weird that I missed you? You were here the whole time.” 
“Mm.” His kisses traverse up your shivering throat, and his raspy answer has your eyes fluttering shut, “I get that.”
Fuck, you can’t deal with him. “Is.. Is that so..”
“People miss me all the time.”
A snort. “Ass.”
Yoongi immediately laughs into your skin. “But they aren’t here now, are they?” When you don’t respond with anything substantial, he squeezes the side of your ass. “Are they.”
“No,” you hitch out. “But you shouldn’t be here, either.”
“Tell me to leave then.”
Shit. You can’t. You both know you can’t. You try so hard to stifle a moan when you feel Yoongi grip an asscheek, his lips finding your ear at the same time he gives a firm smack.
“Do it, doll.”
“I…” Fuck, he’s surrounding you and there’s no way no way out. “I can’t.”
“Good.” Yoongi then slides your hand from his side down to his legs, placing it on his very big, very hard length. “Cus I can’t fucking stay away from you.” 
You grip him through his pants, pleased when he moans deep. “What if he wakes up?”
“He won’t,” your handsome rebel purrs. “Drank for hours.”
“You sure?”
“Course I am.” Yoongi slides a finger along the outline of your breasts. “He tried to keep up and lost.”
“Typical.” 
He keeps doing exactly what you want him to do. It’s quite scary how well he knows your body now, but you’d also like to think you have a good level of knowledge with his.
Especially when you reach up to twist his nipple. 
A groan mixed with dark chuckles has your knees shaking, and you prolong it by doing something else you know—or think you know—he likes,
“I think you’d like it if I kicked you out now.”
The volcano inside Yoongi rumbles. “Is that so?”
“It is,” you huff out in mock triumph, loving how his cock twitches against your hand. “Or am I wrong?”
He flicks his eyes to yours before holding a gaze. A look so telling, and full, and searing. When his mouth flicks upward, he admits,
“I’d love it.”
Laughing as softly as you can, you stop to simply hug him. Leaning forward until your head rests, feeling the most at home and happy hearing his own amusement vibrating through his clothes. 
And just like that, you’re conflicted. 
What the hell are you doing? Even though passed out and sloshed, your brother could still wake up. It’s not like he’s totally gone. And if he catches his best friend in your room? There’s no telling what damage could be dealt.
Actually, the damage could be told in gruesome detail.
But the way Yoongi’s filling the distance from today, you really don’t want to stop. In fact, you don’t even want to pretend to shoo him off.
So this is your first step onto a precarious, unpredictable tightrope. A step you are very okay taking. 
“Babe?”
Shit, you got lost again. When you find your way back, Yoongi’s concern materializes at once,
“If you really aren’t down—”
“Fuck it.” 
Your kiss digs into his face so hard you strike gold, rewarded with a growl so potent it disrupts your core. Lightning zaps through your veins at the hands squeezing your hips, and you buck with a desperation that’s been stockpiling all day long.
Sliding along the wall, you notice that Yoongi tastes like alcohol and sugar, and you wanna lick every crevice you can reach, drunk off his cockiness and audacity alone. 
It’s no use fighting this. He’s really in your room, making out with you like a demon while the house is filled with your brother’s sleeping friends.
Fuck, you two could really get caught here.
The swirl in your belly keeps you on your toes, transforming your movements into sharp, hasty tugs on his clothes, hemlines, hair. You’re practically acting like you’ve never had him before and want to make up for all those missed opportunities.
Not like it’s any different every time.
But you’re quelled by a calm hand on your wrist. “As much as I like you like this,” Yoongi whispers across your cheek, “You can’t be too loud, baby girl.”
Your silent question must’ve escaped past your teeth. Because you hear a deep chuckle before shivers run down your spine,
“If you aren’t quiet enough I’m gonna fix that.”
Oh. Fuck.
“I didn’t even know I was talking,” you admit, body creasing in embarrassment and a bit of nervous laughs. Your grin cannot be contained by the fingers you slide up to cover it. “Oh, my god.” 
“What?” Yoongi’s devilish look is even more potent in the flashing lights of your television. “You serious?”
When you scrunch in deeper admittance, he flashes teeth with a wider smile than yours. It’s a prelude to the way he launches your heartbeat, his scent mesmerizing and his fingers lethal on the back of your neck. 
“Adorable.”
You groan into his swooping kiss, the rush of a thousand rivers carrying you to bliss. Breaths intertwined, the pair of you can’t seem to part until Yoongi accidentally shoulders something at his side.
Your mirror? When did you both travel so far that you got here? 
He lets off with a pop to steady the wavering furniture piece, pausing to make sure it’s stable before looking at the movie playing nearby.
And you watch in curiosity as he backs further into your room, eyeing himself in the mirror while slotting the sucker back into his mouth.
God. How did you forget he was still holding that?
And why can’t you move even as he turns around, even as he glances at the tv, even as he sits on the edge of your bed?
Move. Walk. Do something!
In the end, you can’t.
Because Yoongi’s stare alone gives you first time jitters, like you’ve never even conversed or much less slept with him before. 
How the fuck are you gonna get through the night? 
Swallowing and shooting one more look at your door, you pad your way to him, knowing he sees your nipples poking through your shirt and assuming there’s not much else you’re wearing. 
And he’s right. 
As you stop at Yoongi’s knees, you watch as he gives the lollipop another slow suck, groaning at the red smeared across his tainted lips.
That’s it. It’s decided. There’s no way you’re making it out alive.
“Get up here.”
Obliging but unhurried, you mount his lap, your heart skipping at the way he enjoys your shirt riding up your thighs.
So that damn sucker is gonna stay in his mouth? 
Min Yoongi is your enemy tonight.
Your nemesis, in fact. Even if he slides both free hands up your ass like that fuck he squeezes so expertly. Fuck. 
It’s keeping everything in you to hide your moan, your head falling forward as he slightly lifts you to drop you onto his comfy sweats.
When he chuckles in your ear, your muscles lock. And when he pops the lolly out of his mouth, you crumble at his mercy. “You were lucky to be off-limits today, doll.” 
“What…” You tense at another grip to your ass. “What do you mean.”
As you eye the silver around his neck, Yoongi’s smirk pours weight on your legs. “If you weren’t? There’s no telling what I would’ve done.”
You don’t think you’ve ever gulped so deeply. What toe-curling secrets is he hiding? Today could have gone a much, much different route depending on what he’d spill. “Tell… Tell me anyway.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
The man below you huffs quick, and you watch the corner of his mouth lift at a dangerous angle. “Would’ve kept you in that bathroom,” he divulges, voice dragging across the rattled surface of your brain. “Bent you over the sink.”  
Your breath hitches when he gets close, lips caressing your ear but words striking through your chest, “Just so you could watch me fuck you in that sundress.” 
“Fuck.”
“Uh uh,” Yoongi coos, chuckle so, so deep. “Quiet, baby girl.”
“I just…” It’s already hard to think around this demon of a person. But it’s even more difficult when he’s got your ear in his teeth. “Wait.” 
As he pulls away, the light of your television highlights his features. And you find that this specific, comforting look of attentiveness is what attracts you the most. 
Now that you can think clearly, you remember exactly what you were gonna do. It’s simple but significant nonetheless. 
Because your dress from today is in the laundry already. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have another one. Another very particular one he may remember, in fact. 
“Go over there,” you whisper, smile wide as you dismount. “Turn around.” 
When he wordlessly asks what you’re up to, a single finger presses against your lips before you assure, “Just trust me.” 
The way his brows scrunch makes your cheeks hurt as you watch him get up and swivel, endeared by the casual lean on your wall and the lollipop stuck in his cheek. Just as his head falls in waiting, you slip into your closet, darkness getting even darker as you enter.
Due to an afterthought, you pop your head out. “No peeking in the mirror.”
“Uh huh.”
Satisfied, you go back to your lightless search. 
You know exactly what you’re going for. It’s too easy for you to locate your chosen piece of clothing before stripping and changing as orderly as you can. 
Okay. This is okay because you’re alone, right? No one else is here. Technically. Okay.
As you make your way out, a million nerves pop and fizzle under moonlight. The air surrounding your bare shoulders proves charged. Electric enough to send shivers down to your pedicured toes.
Composing yourself before you break, you softly catch his attention as you eye the sucker poised in his fingers,
“Ready.”
The moon waits.
Your breath follows.
And when Yoongi turns, you know you’ll never forget this moment. It feels exactly like the time in that restaurant long ago, but more potent. Shimmering. 
Because you’re wearing the same sundress he witnessed you in on the night of Dom’s party. 
And you’ve never been so delighted to see the stars in his eyes go dark.
You expect him to call you over. Whether with words or not, you’re gonna do whatever he wants—because it’s what you want… too…
Yoongi’s aura billows as he closes the distance himself. No words. No gestures. Just step by breath-taking step, air around him so charged and commanding that your knees threaten to buckle. 
For reasons you won’t admit, your mouth can’t even create sounds. All you want to ask is if he likes the dress, or if he even cares you aren’t as dressed up as before. 
Of course he wouldn’t give a single shit. But you can’t stop yourself from these thoughts just yet. 
Swallowing, you stare as he rolls the sucker in his mouth, eyes in no other direction but yours. “You, umm. Does this one work instead? The other one is in the—”
Quick isn’t fast enough to describe what’s happening, your shoulders pressing into the nearest wall as your lips get consumed by lust and possession. Everything in your body tingles, and for a split second you wonder how Yoongi managed to swing you around so swift with barely a sound. 
Stars fly from your eyes before they slip shut, pouring want onto his veins as he circles strong arms across your waist. Sparks erupt the scant distance between your hips and his, and you are once again reminded why you feel so high-strung. 
There are so many people staying over. Not just Yoongi and Jimin. From what you can recall, at least ten people are passed out around the house, any of which could wake up for a bathroom break or something at any second. 
And yet. You will not tell this man to leave. Truthfully, this is exhilarating and all you’re doing is ki—
“Get down there.”
Oh, fuck. 
This is the new point of no return. 
If you do this, not only will Yoongi be a goner, but so will you. Both of you would never, ever come back from this. 
But that fucking lollipop…
Screw everything to hell.
Your smile grows with his, lip bitten in the throes of your newfound excitement. You already feel how rock solid he is through his pants, and you make it a point to stroke him on the way to the ground. 
There’s so little room that your ass skims the wall, your chest the second part to slide along his covered length and causing him to groan out a curse. 
Is there a shift here? Did you change the whole dynamic with one move? Maybe you’re the one with the power now. 
“Look at me.”
Ah. Maybe not.
Obedient, you stare upward, catching the fire in Yoongi’s eyes as he gives the sucker one more pass in his mouth. 
God, he makes it look so enticing. It’s just a piece of candy but you’ve never been this desperate to have one, too. Or be the one treated with his tongue like that goddamn does he have to make it seem so erotic?
With a pop, Yoongi releases the stick, lips shiny and tainted in the television lights. When he lowers it, you realize it’s descending—farther and farther—until it stops in front of your face. 
And shivers overtake you.
“Suck.” 
Well. You’ve never done something like this before. In all the relationships you’ve been in, you have never experienced anything like this. Much less in your own house. 
Which makes your eyes flare and the monster in your belly rumble, fire hissing from its nose and prying your mouth open to do exactly what you were told. 
“That’s my girl.”
Sugar coats your tongue immediately. Glowing, the heat in your core stokes embers, warning with each loll, each cave of your cheeks. You treat the candy so tenderly Yoongi will deny jealousy, and your lips pucker and puff with a sheen. 
Are you glistening as much as his eyes? Are you causing him as much grief as he has put you through?
You damn well hope so. Yoongi isn’t the only one that’s gonna unleash his needs from the whole day. 
So you keep sucking with closed eyes, swirling your tongue around the lolly and licking it just how you would his tip. It tastes like sweet rebellion, but also late nights with your friends. And with a fleeting thought, you know said friends would grill you if they ever found out this was happening.
Maybe Tae would just laugh his ass off. 
Fuck, this is so unbelievably risky. Your door is locked, sure. But the guest room is still very much missing an occupant and one look in there and at Yoongi’s car in the street would cause an eruption.
Through the haze of your thoughts, you hear shuffling and a low droning grunt. 
With one glance, you know Yoongi is crumbling. The shadowed promises under his bangs make you preen, and you remain on the precipice of anxiousness and glee.
“Keep that tongue out for me.”
Clearly, he doesn’t give a shit about risk.
So gladly, you oblige, flinching when the lollipop is replaced by something you’re much more familiar with, and your eyes bat on instinct as you know exactly what to do with this one.
When did he shove his pants down? Were you that lost in your sticky treat that you didn’t even notice? 
Doesn’t matter. You feel his beautiful weight on your stained tongue and it’s second nature to pleasure. When you grab hold of his base, you give one more suck before popping him out of your mouth to lick down.
For someone that’s been shushing you, Yoongi’s groan is not quiet, and you pause just in time to see him grit his teeth with a nose scrunched to hell.
And his attention is sideways. What is he…
Oh. Fuck.
You can see yourself in your mirror on the other wall. 
Is that… you? The one looking back with a visage so arousing your breath stops? If this is the person that Yoongi brings out you actually feel your confidence inflate like a parade balloon.
“So fucking hot.”
When you laugh in shyness, his eyes slide shut in agony as he rakes through his hair. Crumbling inside, you offer a compliment of your own, 
“You’re so unfair when you do that.” 
Yoongi has the audacity to grin wide as he grips his long strands. “This?” 
“Ugh. Whatever.” You wanna smack that smirk right off his face.
So you keep going, loving the way his walls and defenses are back to shattering at your knees. From your inappropriate level of experience with his cock, you go for what you know. Licking his underside, swirling around the tip, sucking just the first bit, gathering spit all over before taking him in deep. 
The smells around you coalesce into something potent. With the fruitiness of the lolly and the headiness of Yoongi, it’s pure bliss in your nostrils and you soak it all in. There’s no pause in your sucking, licking, tugging him rough. You’re giving it your all and feeling the effects between your legs. 
Suddenly. 
Huffs litter around your sundress as Yoongi yanks himself out, sticking the sucker in your mouth again while holding your head. And his smile puts devils to shame when he scoffs, “Unfair, my ass.”
You giggle, sliding the pop up and down your outstretched tongue before slowly pushing it in. When you watch one of his veiny hands grip his cock, your brain resets and rewires, prompting you to be a little bit more daring.
As if this whole situation wasn’t daring enough.
You coyly slide one of your sundress straps down your arm, slowly revealing the top of a breast before going for the other side. Not enough to show everything. But enough to give him a much better view from above. 
And the sound you hear in response causes pulses between your legs,
“What the fuck.”
Satisfied, you ride this high of praise and keep diligently sucking on the lolly, watching him pump himself until you can’t can’t can’t take it anymore.
It all happens in quick succession, your hand outright slapping the lollipop out of his hand before grabbing for him, shaky fingers knocking into his slick ones before slipping his dick in your mouth.
“Shit—”
His scent captures your nostrils as he bucks forward, knocking your throat and causing your gag to hit the wall. When you keep sucking, Yoongi grabs your chin, chains swaying as he rocks in, out, in, out again.
Drool and spit cover your neck, seeping onto his fingers as he keeps them where he wants. Imagining how you look in the mirror makes you moan, and imagining Yoongi watching everything from his view makes your cunt leak onto your thighs. 
Fuck you wanna watch, too. What does that say about you? You’re legitimately jealous that you can’t see yourself taking Yoongi so deep he’s cursing in strings. 
When you choke, it’s disgustingly loud, so he has to pull out once again just to command, “Quiet.”
“Ye—” 
He’s shoved back in before you can finish one syllable, back out after a single suck before he drives his point home, “Understand?” 
“Y—”
Your words are pushed down your throat again, the intensity Yoongi’s exuding rolling your eyes back and shaking your muscles. Spent and unable to speak, you nod around him, and your arms are suddenly gathered against the wall until you’re fully flushed, held up by one of his strong hands.
“Good girl.”
You brace yourself for his complete control, dick sliding down your throat and pushing tears out of your eyes. Breathing through your nose, you keep your tongue flat, taking him in until your full body gag alerts him to pull out. 
As soon as he does, you buckle straight towards the mirror, eyes bursting with shock as you drink in the man watching your heaving, shimmering chest.
“This is what you do to me, doll.” When you shift your attention upward, you gulp at his smile of pride. “Can you stand?” 
“I…” Holy shit, he fucked the voice right out of you. “I think so.” 
“Here.” 
You place your hand in his, muscles in your legs stinging at the change in position. When you go slow, Yoongi lets you, and your lips curve tenderly at the way he kisses you at your peak. 
“You almost made me come,” he whispers, chuckling when you watch his eyes. “Fuckin’ hustler.” 
“You didn’t want to?” 
“Not yet.” Winking, Yoongi gives you another peck before getting close. 
As you look in the mirror, you catch the way he kisses along your neck, his hair tickling your skin and his arms bent as he holds yours. It’s almost enough to make you feel higher than royalty, now knowing what it looks like to be feasted on by a king.
“Promise me something,” he rasps. 
“Anything,” you whisper in confidence.
“It’s your turn now.” Another kiss to your ear makes you flinch. “But if you’re too loud that’s all you get.” 
Bold statement coming from the guy that couldn’t stay silent. But you’re far too gone to dwell on the past so all you can do is nod in understanding. You need this. After today? You really fucking need this.
Yoongi tucks himself back in his sweats before kissing your neck again, lips leaving a trail along the tracks left by your own actions. When he gets to your chest, he gets to unwrap another treat, slowly peeling your dress down to suck on a nipple. 
You almost cut the whole thing short. 
A hand flies up over your mouth, and you watch your face twist in anguish in the glass. Sparks tingle from where Yoongi slides his tongue, and seeing this man in action from another viewpoint launches you across the edge instead of right to it. 
You’re gonna get yourself caught. There’s no way you aren’t crying out by the time he’s done but goddamn you’ve got to keep it toge—
Deft fingers rub your other nipple, causing your body to jump forward and Yoongi to chuckle into your chest. After he squeezes, you watch as he pops off your tit. “What’d I say.” 
This is the hardest thing you’ve ever done! 
You can only shake your head, hand still preventing your mouth to move and your throat stinging from suppressed screams. 
“That’s what I thought,” Yoongi quips before kissing the rest of your dress downward. 
And the fucker didn’t even look back at the mirror. Like he already knows exactly what he looks like or doesn’t care in the slightest. All he’s focused on is you and you alone, and you’re so enamoured that you watch his head below you, too. 
Calmly and surely, Yoongi lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing along your skin and gripping you tight. When he lifts a brow upward, you nod downward, bracing yourself for him to notice something else you had planned to show.
Works like a sinful charm. His reaction could be felt better than seen. 
Because as soon as he notices that you don’t have any underwear on, Yoongi pours out dark amusement before giving your cunt the deepest kiss it’s ever felt.
A mewl smushes into your fingers as you cave, eyes shutting so tight as he eats you out like a man starved and never satiated. 
His licks hit just right, and the way he tongues you causes stars to pierce your eyes through. Over and over and over, Yoongi is merciless in how he pleasures, and your esophagus burns and burns and burns. 
Both your legs quake as he slips a finger under his tongue, and your eyes fly open just in time to see yourselves in the mirror again. 
Holy fuck.
You’ve always known this man was attractive. Overwhelmingly so, in fact. But seeing him on his knees and knowing it’s not a dream makes you so dizzy your brain can’t keep up. 
Yoongi’s hands flex on your skin with each minuscule grip, and his hair bunches as he moves between your legs. Your thigh covers his face, but maybe that’s for the best, because you don’t think you could handle watching his tongue while feeling it inside. 
“So fucking wet,” he hisses out before diving in again, and you use your other hand to grapple a chunk of his drying hair. “Fuck.”
Yes, keep going. He’s so close to making you come you squeeze even harder. By now, your whole upper body is burning with unreleased yells and your lower body is suffering just as much. He’s too good. Way too good for a quiet house.
You can’t hold it in. You can’t you can’t you can’t.
“Yoongi, please”—your legs start to twinge with want and pending release—“Gonna come, I—”
Everything snaps as soon as he reaches to grope your ass, tugging you forward to lick a spot that has you vibrating like mad. 
And your orgasm is so potent that your knees legitimately buckle, your body slipping with no purchase before you catch yourself on the wall. Waves hit you from all directions and you let out one yelp before you feel a moist hand clamp over your lips.
Oh, he’s standing now. Oh, he’s fingering you. Oh fuck, he’s talking you through your orgasm and you can’t understand him but your body reacts either way. 
“—another one for me.”
Your pulses wreck your body into angles, each one shifting into another as your mouth is still covered. Yoongi’s fingers prove fatal as he leads you into a second paradise, and you cry into his hand as you come into his other—harder, stronger. 
“Just like that, doll, fuck.”
Tears stream down your cheeks again as you lift, soaring into the summer skies and leaping over sleeping souls. It’s too much to keep inside. Too powerful to not let out all at once. 
“—this fucking dress.”
You don’t know what’s being said. Nor do you care. Your body is so spent from the vicious tempest and all the energy leaves you at once. 
“Uh uh.”
What. 
“One more for me,” Yoongi goads. “And you’re gonna watch this time.” 
Your chest beats and beats as his fingers pump slow, and your head lolls to the side as you catch sight of your salacious act in the mirror. 
Immediately, you know exactly why he said that. Watching the way his arms bulge with effort is encouragement enough to stay upright. With each thrust, you can see your dress hitching with your arches, and Yoongi dives into your neck to strike lightning. 
“Baby—” You feel it. You feel a third wave incoming and its crest seems higher than the rest. 
“Come for me,” he whispers, his dark bangs peeking from behind your neck in the mirror and his throat stretching out. “And don’t fucking scream.” 
Fuck! Your hand grips your mouth so bad it will leave soreness. But water pulls you under and twists you like a ragdoll. Unlike the other times, this orgasm quivers your legs to the point where Yoongi teases. And he can’t stop praising you for being naughty, for letting him in here, for letting him destroy you while everyone’s here.
“I love it,” you whoosh out into his throat, voice cracked and chipped. “Fuck, I love it.” 
“I know you do.” Another deep set of laughs. “You’re a problem.”
Head lolling forward, you slowly slip right into Yoongi’s arms before he helps you stand. “Come on,” he leads, walking you a short distance to your bed before chuckling at your cartoonish collapse.
Some moments pass. One, two, four or five more. Even the room seems to swim a little in your vision when you struggle to open your eyes. 
Finally, after breathing hard, you can only manage a gravelly, “Holy shit.” 
Yoongi laughs soft before wiping your forehead. “You okay?” 
“Yeah,” you exhale, chest heaving and heaving. “I’ll be good.” 
Fingers still wisping across your face, he praises, “So beautiful.” 
You finally calm your pulse before you slide your hand over his cock. “Did you come?” 
“Nah.” 
Looks like you aren’t done. “Mm,” you whisper, trying your best to prop yourself up. “Lie down for me.” 
“You sure?” 
You nod with heavy eyes, and he slowly occupies your bed while you caress him again. So smooth and so tender before squeezing just right. 
It’s already almost enough because Yoongi throws his head onto your pillow. “Goddamn.”
When you slip his sweats down, you use willpower alone to consume him again. You will not rest until he’s fully content, too. With this in mind, your cheeks and jaw work overtime. 
You want this, want this, want this. He gave you the world and then some, you can run on fumes to make him a mess. After all, you’re drunk off the pleasurable cocktail he just concocted with his tongue. This will carry you despite your functioning levels in the trenches. 
“Babe—”
For a split second, you forget where you are. Your eyelids droop so low and your body twinges with aftershocks as you spit right onto his cock, sliding your lips along his pretty length before you feel him tug your sheets.
“Shit.”
He’s close. He doesn’t even have to tell you. You can tell by the way his body reacts and bends and folds, and you quickly decide what that means for you.
Because you could swallow. 
But you instead make your way to the floor, commanding him before realizing just how authoritative and raspy you sound, 
“Sit up.”
Right as he does, you pump him right above your exposed chest, shocking him so abruptly his low groan shakes your core,
“Oh, fuck—”
Hot, thick spurts land all over you, his release your only focus and not the pain in your knees from hitting the floor in round two. As his head rolls back, you watch with heightened pride, loving the way he looks lost in delicious, honeyed ecstasy.
And just like that, both of you are satisfied. Both of you got what you needed and wanted from this… hot summer… day…
There was a sound outside your door, further down the hall but fucking close enough. 
And holy shit his cum is on your tits.
Holy shit holy shit this is the absolute last thing you should’ve let him do what the fuck what the fuck! 
If anyone sees you like this you are both finished. Cooked. Banished.
You glance at the door, body locking and hands massive weights at your side. 
One second. 
Two seconds. 
You’re fully awake now. 
Four seconds. 
Nothing else happens. Your ears strain wildly but you don’t hear any noises in succession, and you wonder if it was just a snore or something similar. 
Sighing, you breathe out relief before peering straight up.
And the look you get in return is pure, primal hunger. 
Yoongi’s never looked like this. Maybe he’s come close that one time before, but this is much different. 
What is this? His pupils are magnified and his lids are lowered in fire, stoking the heat within you and clutching your cunt with his eyes alone. You’re so wet that you can come again if he so much as touched you. “Baby?” 
Yoongi simply grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “Just want this in my phone so fucking bad.” 
Oh. Well, fuck. 
You blink at his shamelessness. But it makes you so exhilarated and shy that you resort to your default—cracking jokes. Of all the things he could’ve mentioned like the sound outside or possibly getting caught and dragged to hell he decides he wants your pictures in his phone. Right.
“Happy you painted me like Picasso?” You laugh before you can even finish, but so does Yoongi as he throws his head back. 
Immediately, the atmosphere calms. “You heard that earlier?” 
“He’s an idiot.” 
“He is.” Yoongi helps you up and onto your bed before he asks, “Towels in your bathroom?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Under the sink.”
You watch as he goes to fetch them, heart pulsing extra hard at his consideration. When he bustles around in a room you use everyday, it’s surreal to witness. Both unnatural, but so natural at the same time. 
He’s careful not to make loud sounds, gently closing your cabinets and coming back with a cloth he ran under water.
A sudden pang hits your chest and you have no clue why.
Is it because you’ll never see him in there again? Or is it because of the conversation you just brought up? 
Maybe both. The convo from earlier today still rings in your ears, everyone hounding Yoongi about the scratches you left on his back. They were old but still very visible. You need to be more mindful of what you can and can’t do right now. 
As Yoongi wipes your shivering chest, you ask something that’s been weighing on your mind, “Did I get you in even more trouble?” 
He just looks at you before finishing his cooling task, raising straps back onto your shoulders. “Course you did.” 
Ah. He didn’t seem bothered, but your apology follows him as he goes to pick up the abandoned candy from earlier. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it at the time.” 
“S’ok. Hope you’re fine being some chick from outta town, though.” 
Your chuckle hurts your throat on the way out. Not from disappointment, but from the very man you’re talking to. “I can deal with that. Is she nasty?” 
It takes a bit for him to discard everything. When he comes back, he bends down to answer, 
“So fuckin’ nasty.” 
You giggle right into his kiss. Fully spent, your arms around his neck pull him in close, and his rough laugh makes your legs even weaker. “Can’t believe we just did all that.”
“Same.”
“Guess you like the dress, huh?”
A hand comes up to squeeze your thigh. “Dunno. Might have to see it again when the sun’s out.”
“Ass.”
“You get it.”
“Wow.” 
Yoongi hisses amusement, shifting to lay beside you across your bed. When he does, light from the window hits him just right, and you fall silent at once.
So perfect. So unfair.
“I think this is my favorite,” you admit, not giving him full context. So when he wordlessly asks for it, you reach up and caress his cheek. “When you look happy.”
“I am,” he says after a pause. “Cus of you.”
You feel starlight in your own eyes. “I’m happy, too.”
For this, Yoongi doesn’t need to ask for more context at all.
The lingering fear of being caught is still there, but it’s not as present now. Maybe it’s because you’re both content again, but you don’t feel too stressed. 
Did you want to get caught that whole time? Surely not when things were going down.
But what about now? If someone saw you lost in each others’ stars, would you care if they plucked you from the sky? 
Staring into this man’s eyes, you can’t bring yourself to say you would. 
“When will I see you again?” you blurt out of nowhere.
At this, Yoongi props his head up with an elbow. “When do you want to?”
“Tomorrow.”
His chest bobs with his laugh. “I’ll make sure to see you before I head out then.” 
You nod, eyes shutting when Yoongi goes in for another kiss. 
Another kiss is how you frame it. Because a final kiss is too painful to think about. 
Yoongi has to leave. You know he literally cannot stay.
But facts and logic don’t make this parting any easier, and your heart breaks when he slips out of your bed.
It’s too soon. Yes, it’s also way past the time he should be in your room, but it’s too fucking soon. 
Your chest burns. Sears make fiery ridges along your ribs until they overtake your heart, creeping closer and closer.
Until Yoongi bends to kiss you again, fingers slotting into yours and squeezing some liquid out of your eyes. 
But his rasp gives you pause, “I did, by the way.”
Blinking, you feel him swipe at oncoming tears when you ask, “You did what?”
“Have fun.”
Oh. Wait, he’s answering the text you sent? You already forgot about that. Ages ago. “Good,” you say with a slight ghost of a smile. “It looked like you were having a good time. And I.. Really liked seeing you laugh.”
Yoongi just stares, thoughts and emotions skimming across his eyes. When you reach up to cradle his cheek, they then slip shut, brows dipping as he presses into you further. “You were the reason,” he admits with no hesitation.
Don’t cry more. Not now.
He gives you one more hug, and you cradle his head into your skin. “Good night, baby,” you whisper so softly, planting a kiss on his cheek. 
When he does the same to yours, you wonder if his reaction was also reminiscent of tiny sparklers on a summer night. 
“Night, doll.” 
The steps he takes all stomp on your heart. 
But you find solace in the hopeful future. One where you can stand next to him at summer barbecues, or host them with him, or just simply be anywhere with him. 
But mostly, you’re yearning for a future where you don’t have to keep watching him leave through a door. 
But come back through one.
-
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fin. :)
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🍭so... how did it go!🍭 | join the server! | join the taglist!
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a/n: thank you to everyone that has stuck around while i took my huge rest! it was a little strange to not be here everyday talking to you all, but looking back, the resting and step back was needed. although it looks like some people left - whether the blog or in general - i am happy to see so many familiar and new people! let's keep having fun with the 3tanverse and beyond, yeah? a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! i'll be here to talk and scream with y'all whenever, and it should be more frequent now. also be on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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lewisvinga · 8 months
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young and beautiful | oscar piastri x fem! reader
summary; due to her pregnancy, y/n wonders if oscar will always love her, if he will love her after she’s had their baby, after she’s no longer young and beautiful
warnings; mentions of pregnancies (duh), body image, insecurities, reader is mentioned as religious at the end but it will make sense 😣
taglist; @namgification
word count; 1.2k
note; think this is the longest written fic i’ve done lol
‘born to die’ series masterlist !
f1 masterlist !
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“What should we ask Daddy to bring us, little bee?” Y/n hums, patting her swollen belly as she rummaged through her closet for her silly pajamas.
Oscar was about to leave a meeting and promised to bring her whatever she wanted. It seemed like the bee, their baby, was craving Mexican food. Y/n hums to a tune as she sends a quick message to her husband before grabbing the silky pink pajamas.
She kept her hands on her stomach out of habit. Now that she was nearing 8 months, her stomach had grown significantly. She missed her small bump from the first trimester, but having a huge stomach was inevitable.
Y/n lets out a deep sigh as she takes off the maternity dress she wore for errands. She glances in the mirror and notices the bright red marks on her stomach. She applied many types of creams to try to avoid getting stretch marks but she couldn’t avoid it.
As much as she loved how hard her body was working for her and her baby, she hated seeing those same red marks. Her mind wandered off to how she was going to look after having her baby.
She’s seen plenty of videos on motherhood. A few talked about how different a mother's body will be after childbirth. Many gain weight and many have loose skin that will stay forever unless they get plastic surgery. She’s also heard stories of women whose husbands or boyfriends left them due to how different their bodies looked afterward.
Y/n began to overthink as she stared at herself in the mirror, dressed in nothing but a comfortable pair of bra and underwear. She knew she would no longer have the body she had before becoming pregnant.
Her skin will be all loose. Her stomach will be all flabby. Her chest will become bigger than usual and most likely end up uneven from breastfeeding. She was absolutely terrified that Oscar would no longer love her.
Even if the Australian driver practically praised the ground she walked on, Y/n was terrified of him leaving all because her body wouldn’t look the same. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed and how her eyes were tearing up until she heard his voice.
“Y/n? Love, where are you?”
“I’m changing!” She calls out in a panic, pushing her thoughts to the back of her head as she rushes to put on her silk pajamas. She rushes out of their shared room and down the stairs. Oscar calls her to be careful as she approaches the dining room.
“Osc! We missed you.” She says with a soft smile, wrapping her arms around him as much as she can despite her belly. He kissed the top head in reply and gently patted her stomach.
“Hope you’re hungry because it smells amazing.” He says with a chuckle, taking the boxes of food out from the brown bag. Her craving for Mexican food quickly covered up her insecure thoughts from moments before.
She had forgotten about them until she had just finished doing her skincare routine before going to bed. She had struggled a bit to lean down to wash her face.
Oscar was quick to notice her mood as she walked waddled back into their shared room. She lets out a huff, laying down on her side beside him, and keeps her eyes on the TV playing some random movie.
“Love, are you okay?”
Silence fills the room as Oscar asks the question. Y/n couldn’t help but tear up at his gentle tone. She felt stupid for overthinking that he could ever leave her when he’d do everything for her, even stopping by the grocery store after getting take out because she only liked a specific vanilla ice cream with her churros.
“It’s stupid.” She mumbles, wiping her tears away before he could notice. Unfortunately for her, he immediately noticed. The McLaren driver furrowed up his eyebrows in concern as he shuffled closer to her, gently wiping away her tears.
“It’s not stupid if it makes you cry, my love.”
“It’s just-“ She began, pausing to take a deep breath. “My body looks so different. I appreciate it for growing our little bee but it’s going to look so different. I already have so many stretch marks and after I have our little bee, my stomach is gonna be all flabby and stretched out!” She cries out, turning to look at an even more concerned Oscar.
“Love-“
“And I’ve heard stories of husbands leaving their wives after childbirth and after getting older and having multiple children. I’m not gonna look the same as I did a year ago, Oscar.” Y/n takes a deep shaky breath, letting the tears go, “I’m scared you’re gonna take a look at me with disgust. Will you still love me after? When I’m no longer young and beautiful? I hope you will. I mean, I know you will. But it’s just-“
“Y/n.” Oscar interrupted her, cradling her tear-stained face with her hands. He wiped away the tears from her rosy cheeks as he gently kissed her. “I will always love you. From a year ago during hot summer nights in mid-July, when we were wild, to a year from now when we’re holding our baby in our arms. Y/n, you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I love everything about you, your pretty face and electric soul. Yes, your body will look different but that’s because you’re working so hard to give our little bee the growth she needs. But I will always love you, when we’re young, when we’re old, and when we’re nothing but souls floating around.”
His words made her tear up even more. He lets out a chuckle, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in close. “See this?” He questions, holding up his hand and showing the gold ring on his ring finger. “You’re stuck with me forever whether you like it or not, my love.”
Y/n lets out a shaky laugh, sniffing as she uses her tear-stained silk sleeves to wipe her nose. She looks up at him with nothing but adoration. Her face immediately seemed to light up compared to how she was feeling before. She reached up to gently caress his cheek. He was like her sun. He always knew how to make her shine like diamonds.
“Bee and I are so lucky to have you, Osc.” She whispered as she leaned in, kissing his lips softly. Oscar pulled her in as close as he could, deepening their kiss.
“More like I’m lucky to have you.” He whispers against her lips, “I’d be dead without you.” He adds as they pull away. She lets out a small laugh, lightly hitting his shoulder as they settle in bed.
She wasn’t overthinking anymore due to his reassurance. She lay against his chest as they watched the movie that was playing softly in the background.
Y/n started to get tired when she noticed Oscar became fast asleep. She lets out a yawn and gets comfortable against his side but not before whispering a quick prayer.
Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven, please let me bring my man. When he comes, tell me that you’ll let him in. Father, tell me if you can.
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themultifanshipper · 3 months
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Lando went through phases, sometimes he wanted to be railed, and sometimes he wanted to do the railing. For the past week, it had been the latter.
Warnings: gn!reader, free use (sort of), overstimulation, feral lando, rough sex
Lando was the type of guy to bend you over the nearest surface whenever he felt like it. And you were totally on board with that. On the kitchen counter at breakfast, over the coffee table when he was playing fifa or watching tv, over his desk when he was gaming with his friends (those were risky days, but the rewards, mama mia…), even over the hood of his miura once. Wherever you were, if he was horny, he would find you. And this week, he was indeed the one doing the bending over, which wasn’t unusual, you both being pretty versatile in the bedroom. What was unusual however, was how often it was happening.
It was the summer break, so it wasn’t like he was high on adrenaline like during the season. He just, for some inexplicable reason, was absolutely insatiable this random week in the middle of July. Maybe he was having a quarter life crisis? Maybe his blood had gotten permanently stuck in his dick rather than his brain? Either way you were having a great time getting all your sweet spots abused over and over, multiple times a day.
Yesterday, he interrupted your shower, and didn’t let you out until the water had run cold. The day before that he’d fucked you in the laundry room because you happened to be bending down in front of the washer when he walked past. Today, he had you plugged up with his cum, and seemingly added to it every time he remembered you existed. Which was every time you made any sort of noise in the apartment.
So for now, you were hiding out on the balcony, having a break from his onslaught of horniness.
But of course, he eventually found you and he took you right there, upper body folded over the railing as he gently pulled the plug out and smoothly slid his cock into you. It took him all of two thrusts to finds that spot that made you see stars, and he put his arm around your waist, pounding into you at an inhuman pace as you wailed, loud noises getting swept away by the wind as you couldn't do anything other than take it.
He fucked you 3 more times that day, and by the end your body felt like lead as he carried you to bed after helping you through a shower. The change in his demeanor gave you whiplash as he became so incredibly careful with your body, applying cream where he’d smacked your ass a bit too hard earlier, when you were bent over his lap as punishment for intentionally interrupting his call with Zak.
You were sore and used because Lando sometimes went little bit harder when he got over excited. Your hips were bruised from where Lando’s fingers dug in when he got close to coming. Your scalp was sensitive because Lando loved to pull your hair when he pounded into you from behind, arching your back for him as he took a video, to use when he was alone halfway across the world. Your throat was raw where the tip of his cock had run it through for half an hour after losing at fifa against Max. He was a bit of a brute sometimes when it came to sex if he was in a dom mood, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, and you more than returned the favour whenever it was your turn to play.
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Pt2 here
Want him to bend me over and have his way with me is that too much to ask?
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georgeclarkesgf · 3 months
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shush, it's a secret | george clarke
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it's not unusual for you to be over at george's flat considering you and him met at university and both moved to london around the same time. but about four months ago, your relationship changed from close friends to just that, a relationship.
you'd both decided to not tell anyone, despite how difficult it was proving to be to not be all over each other 24/7. the fans knew of you, to an extent. you'd appear in the backgrounds of videos or tiktoks posted by the boys. your social media was public, however, none of your accounts included your name, making it less likely for fans to find you.
tonight, you're over at the flat again, legs strewn over george's lap and eating some of the dominoes he'd ordered. a movie chris had picked out plays on the tv, but was now long forgotten about since a debate has broken out amongst the boys. over what? you don't know. you're too focused on the way george's hand is subconsciously trailing up your thigh, dangerously high for a 'close friend'. he honestly hasn't noticed that he's doing it, too engaged in the ongoing debate. so, you pick your phone up from your chest and message him.
too high x
his phone dings and he leans forward, grabbing it off the table before noticing it was from you. you watch as his brows furrow in confusion, before sending him another message.
your hand x
realisation hits george and he squeezes your thigh gently as an apology, moving his hand back down to rest above your knees. he mouths 'sorry' at you, to which you can't help but giggle and shake your head. arthur (hill) looks between you two in slight confusion, going to say something but deciding to keep his mouth shut.
it wasn't that you didn't want to tell people, you'd both just agreed it would be easier figuring things out and adjusting to this shift in dynamic without other people prying their noses in. it didn't make the thrill of getting caught any less exciting though. even the simple things such as him wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder made you get an adrenaline rush.
you can feel your eyes growing heavy, despite it still being relatively early, and decide to call it a night.
"sorry guys but i'm gonna head to bed," an echo of boos fill the room while you shrug, laughing, "i'm tired guys leave me alone. mind if i crash in your bed george?"
it feels weird having to ask your boyfriend if you can sleep in his bed, but it seems to be doing the trick of keeping the relationship a secret. there are only three bedrooms and you've known george the longest, so it makes sense you'd stay in his room.
"no go for it, i probably won't be long." you give him a smile and climb off the sofa, heading to his room.
george's eyes widen when he next checks the time, not realising it was so late.
"shit." he mumbles to himself, gaining a weird look from the boys.
"you alright george?" arthur (hill) questions.
"yea i'm fine. just didn't realise it was so late that's all, got stuff to do tomorrow. i'm gonna go to bed though, night guys." he was lying right through his teeth, he had nothing to do tomorrow.
what george had meant to be ten minutes or so had turned into an hour and a half. arthur (tv) ended up coming over and they'd gotten so caught up in conversation that time seemed to fly by. he knows that you hate falling asleep without him and feels guilt seep into his skin. especially since he knows you won't ask for him to come to bed, not wanting it to come off weird since to the others, you're 'just friends'.
you're staring at the ceiling when he shuts his bedroom door, having fallen asleep for all of twenty minutes before you woke up to an empty bed over an hour ago.
"i'm so sorry baby, i didn't realise it had been that long," you turn to look at him, enjoying the way he starts stroking your cheek with his thumb, "have you been waiting for me?"
"mhm, fell asleep for about twenty minutes and been awake since. it's okay though, kept myself busy," george's jaw drops slightly, clearly misunderstanding your words, "oh my god george, no! i meant by reading some more of my book you perv. get your mind out the gutter."
he laughs and goes in to kiss you but you push his forehead away before he can. you scrunch up your face in disgust.
"ow, what was that for?" he's rubbing his forehead like you just hit him with a bat, making it much more dramatic than necessary.
"brush your teeth, you have pizza breath." he tries to do it again and catch you off guard but fails, "i mean it george."
"yes ma'am."
he disappears into the bathroom and returns a few minutes later. his teeth are brushed and he's wearing a pair of grey joggers. your arms open wide, inviting him to lay on top of you so you can run your nails through his hair and up and down his back. a feeling both of you love.
"can i kiss you now?" he teases, grin widening when you nod your head.
several kisses are planted on your face and you know he's purposefully missing your lips. you frown, wanting him to kiss you properly, not having felt his lips on yours in what felt like years. realistically, it's been a few hours.
"george, kiss me properly." you whine.
and he does just that. one hand holding himself up to hover over you, the other stroking your cheek and bringing you in closer until your lips finally meet. the kiss starts off slow and loving, until he presses you further into the mattress, his hands beginning to roam your body. every ounce of sleep you were feeling disappears, suddenly becoming hyper aware of what's happening.
pulling away, you mumble, "we can't, everyone's here. they'll hear us."
"never stopped us before." george whispers against your mouth, connecting your lips once again.
well touché.
a/n don't ask where the inspiration for this came from at 2 in the morning cause i don't have an answer. not proofread either sorryyy. shall i make a part two? i feel like i'll end up doing it anyway but what do you guys think??
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princessbrunette · 3 months
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when sarah and john b had decided they wanted to recruit you to join their relationship, there were a few subtle steps they had planned to take.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡
they saw your potential. they knew perhaps you weren’t the most overtly sexual in nature, but they also knew they could change that. sex was like cake, you could never just eat one spoonful of it. all they had to do, was pique your interest — not just in sex, but in sex with them specifically.
baby steps. you ask sarah to send her the videos she took of you guys from the party the night before, and she ‘accidentally’ includes a video of her and john b fucking she’d taken on her phone the same day. of course she acted bashful, apologising profusely for the mistake and acting incredibly grateful when you’d told her there was no problem and that you’d delete it.
‘yk i wouldn’t even really care if you watched it tbh. i trust you. its only me and john b anyway… 🤷🏼‍♀️💕’
— she’d text you after a moments passed. curiosity of course got the better of you, a shaky, clammy finger pressing the play button as you nervously bite your nail, glancing at the door and turning the volume way down as precaution as if someone were to catch you. the focus seemed to be on sarah, grinding her hips to ride the brunette boy, soft tits bouncing as he lazily smacks her ass and encourages her to keep riding. she seemed to be putting in the work, john b merely used as a vessel for pleasure, a dildo with a voice box— and something about that had you shamefully heating up. sure, your knowledge on sex was fairly limited — but what you did know through movies and tv shows was that guys were usually too prideful to let the girl do the work, yet therefore caring less for her pleasure. the two of them seemed… open. different.
the text of apparent permission sarah had sent you only made you feel the slightest bit less guilty when you snuck your hand down the waistband of your panties and humped clumsily at your palm as you hit replay.
the blonde cameron had facetimed you suddenly and out of the blue seven minutes later. you yanked your hand out your pants like there’d be a way for her to see you before you’d accepted the call and you swallow thickly, brain too frazzled to think before hitting the green button. she was smiling, laying on her bed in that white tank top that hugged her tits, the same tits from the video and accentuated her golden, barbie tan. you try and be normal about it. she’s just your friend after all.
“hey, what are you doing right now?”
you blink at her, the way she’s smiling at you — before checking yourself out in the small box in the corner. you look all heated and askew, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. fuck.
you told her you were watching a movie and then excused yourself not even two minutes later, overcome with embarrassment and the feeling of being caught. sarah rolls over once the call ends, smirking to john b who was reclined on her bed with a hand behind his head, scrolling through his own phone.
“she was totally getting herself off.” she purs matter-of-factly. the brunette boys eyes light up a little as he glances over, brows shifting upwards.
“yeah? how’d you know?”
“she had it written all over her face.”
the two of them got greedy, with the whole introducing you to the idea of being chronically horny thing. without even really speaking about it, they figured the more they normalised this kind of behaviour in the group dynamic, the more likely you were to feel comfortable enough to let them hit. jj maybank was sexual in nature to the knowledge of anyone who had the pleasure of having a conversation with him longer than five minutes. he was sure to make it easy and perhaps bridge the gap, they just needed their in.
by that point, you’d started to catch on anyway.
the four of you sit in a small uneven circle on the floor of the chateau, drinking on a friday night. at first you’re a little confused — you were so sure sarah had been hinting at something with you, herself and john b for a while now — but as you sat beside jj on the floor, his arm rested casually behind you, rubbing casual circles on your waist you perhaps started to question whether or not you’d made that up, and really they were just trying to be friendly so they could set you up with their friend.
as soon as the words ‘truth or dare’ leave john b’s mouth with a knowing, yet trusting and warm grin — you knew it was bound to take a turn. with this group, it always did. everything was about sex, whether you were doing it or talking about it or pretending to do it infront of eachother, it was some kind of secret obsession that you could feel yourself feeding into without knowing. a lamb being brought in to be sacrificed, a group of secretly perverted individuals itching to get your sweet, cranberry blood on their hands.
sarah speaks your name when you foolishly pick dare, worried if you had picked truth they’d make you recount all the things you’d hadn’t done. she leans across the circle to you on her hands and knees so her face is right in front of yours, breath in your face, ass in john b’s.
“i want you… to show me how you’d ride a dick.”
“what?”
she pushes back, reaching behind her on the couch and fetching the throw pillow, placing it in the centre of the circle with a mischievous grin. the pillow it long, firm and rectangular — the comfiest of its kind to nap on during the day whilst the group discuss whatever mishap they were planning on getting into that week.
“aw now we’re talkin’” jj gets comfortable, sitting back a little with a jokey grin. nothing about their tone was out of the ordinary, which what made you feel so comfortable.
“i don’t understand?” you smile, tilting your head like a lost puppy which only made you appear more delicious as their prey.
“straddle the pillow… and show us what you’d do if you were to ride an actual, real dick.” sarah explains kindly, even pulling your hand so you would shuffle forward on your knees to the centre of the small circle.
“look, we know you haven’t done that before— no shame in it,” john b shrugs one shoulder understandingly with an air of casualness which calmed you. “but a dares a dare and hey, maybe you could learn something right now.”
“i been told i’mma pretty good teacher too, so—” jj starts casually in his amused drawl, but is cut short pretty quickly by the sarah snapping her head towards him, her tone more curt and snappy.
“jj.” she scolds quickly and he shuts up, but as quickly as she changed her tone, she was back to smiling back at you encouragingly. she didn’t want jj to take it too far with the pervy jokes and send you running. their plan was perfectly crafted, and they didn’t need him ruining it. john b’s eyes linger on the blonde. nothing malicious about it, perhaps a warning though — because jj presses his lips together and moves his glance back to you with a thick swallow.
all in this time, you had decided to take another long swig of your drink before straddling the pillow. the group cheer, the fun and jokey atmosphere back in full swing as you cover your face, giggling into your hands.
your skirt stretches over your upper thighs at the position, and you shuffle — ensuring you’re sat comfortable on the throw cushion. perhaps the alcohol had lowered your guard, because without much thought — you wince, the material catching over your clit. you were sensitive, assumably from ovulation and as you try to get into a comfortable position, your face falls, realising you may be too sensitive to partake.
“uhm,” you clear your throat as the playful jeering dies down.
“go ahead. fulfil your dare.” sarah chuckles, leaning back against the couch behind her.
“i can’t.” you whisper, smile slipping off your face. the couples hearts drop a few millimetres in their chest, thinking perhaps they’d made you uncomfortable and soiled the whole thing. the blonde girls eyebrows furrow, leaning forward and scooching to sit directly infront of you.
“why? are you okay? i’m— i’m sorry—”
“no i’m okay,” you let out an airy laugh that relieves everyone. “maybe i’m just drunk but i’m a little sensitive… don’t think i can sit n’hump this pillow without…” you trail off, your shame sending heat to your cheeks and behind your ears. john b raises his eyebrows slowly in expectation.
“without…?”
you clench your thighs around the pillow, mortified, looking down at it before back up at him with puppy dog eyes and your teeth tucked over your bottom lip all sheepish. made him wanna finger you until you cried.
luckily, sarah’s face lights up with slow realisation, mouth forming an ‘o’ and eyes widening.
“without cumming?” she cooes before swivelling around to look at both boys, laughing in adoration. “aww, you’re sensitive! i didn’t even… know that was a thing!” she beams, and the boys follow, teeth glinting in the low light like hungry hyenas in a cave.
you loosen up a little, shoulders visibly relaxing and you giggle. “yeah… s’just quite a… firm pillow. pressing me in all types of places.” you shrug, girlishly.
“are you seeeeeeriously tellin’ me, that you can’t move back and forth just a little?” jj chuckles, dumbfounded from behind you and you peer shyly over your shoulder with a humble shrug. you wasn’t sure if they were to be making fun of you, but for some odd reason — based off vibes alone, your sensitivity felt like something to be proud of amongst the group. jj licks his lips.
when you turn back, sarah’s in your face again, her warm hands on your knees. she seems comfortable, so you relax into her touch. you notice john b watching the interaction before locking eyes with you and sipping out his beer bottle.
“okay well, a dares a dare, but if you really need someone to help you out…” she giggles, hands sliding up to your hips before she begins to forcefully tug you back and forth — leaving you no choice but to let her make you hump this pillow infront of everyone.
your hands fly to her shoulders to stabilise yourself, sucking in a shaky and unsure gasp as the seams in the fabric repeatedly catch over your clit through your thin panties. the music playing out the speaker seems to get louder, or maybe the blood is just pumping in your ears as the boys let out little encouraging cheers as they chuckle and continue to drink.
sarah tilts her head, hot breath on your jaw as she lowers her voice to something quiet and seductive for just you to hear, her hands now grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you along. “there you go, keep riding it. just like me in that video, right?” she croons, and your brows furrow — unable to stop the pornographic moan from leaving you.
embarrassed at the delighted reactions, you hide your face in sarah’s neck, hot and disorientated from the pleasure, hearing her amused chuckle close up. “its just us, nothing at all to be embarrassed about.” she shrugs against you. “can’t run from the dare, sweetie. jj, you wanna come up behind her and give her a hand?” she asks, and before you can lift your head — her hands have slid up your top, squeezing at your tits.
your hips aren’t left alone for long though, as jj straddles the long pillow right behind you and grips your hips, tugging them back and forth with a boyish roughness that had the fabric scraping against you in a new way. you whimper uncontrollably, feeling the blondes stiff crotch thumping against your backside each time he yanked you back.
“yeah-he-heahh, that’s the stuff. don’t tell me i never do anythin’ for ya babydoll. teachin’ you the valuable lesson of gettin’ off right now.” he drawls in your ear, his body heat making your back arch.
amidst this, john b carries the same cool and collected energy. he leans against the couch as he keeps his eyes on yours, taking another sip of his beer before reaching out and taking your hand in his to gently soothe over your knuckles when you announce in a panic that they were going to make you cum.
“thaaaats it,” he hums, voice bassy and delicious enough to make you hold onto every word, thighs clenching painfully. “riiiiide it out.”
something about his nonchalance made you believe it was perhaps his idea, and not sarah’s like you previously believed.
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vampiresbloodx · 11 months
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Needed me.
Vanessa (fnaf movie) x Reader
Word count: 1,246
Trigger warnings(18+ ONLY): vaginal fingering, nudes, dirty talk, sort of rough sex, masturbation, top!Vanessa, bottom!reader.
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Your girlfriend, Vanessa, hasn’t returned your calls and if you weren’t panicking before you are now. 
She said that she was going on patrol the last time she left the apartment, you didn’t think anything of it since that was a part of her job, making sure everything is okay and no one is breaking into anything at this hour. 
But god do you miss her. 
You hate that part of her job that she has to work all hours of the day including nights. You’d much prefer it if she was in bed with you right now giving you cuddles or on the couch watching TV, but she has work to do. 
You’ve already expressed how much you hated the fact that she was an officer, of all the jobs to pick, she chose that one. You still like to nag her about changing her career, hell, she could be a writer, she’s good with words. 
You figured once she gets back home she gives you what you want, it’s only fair. It’s not nice leaving your girlfriend hanging like this for hours upon hours with no response. 
Grabbing your phone again that was on charge, the time read 1:23AM, you were in yours and your girlfriend’s shared bedroom as you got undressed, only wearing your underwear that had a wet patch on it from how much you missed your girlfriend and how wet you are just thinking about her touching you, kissing you, fucking you. 
You placed on her favourite yellow sweater, knowing it would drive her insane. You turned on the camera, taking a few teasing photos, of your ass, tits and your hands slightly above your throbbing pussy. 
Then you hit record. 
Your forehead sweating as you pumped your fingers in and out of you, moaning and whining, her name falling of your lips, “if only you were here to fuck me, make me come, I need you, I miss you, baby, please come back home.” 
And then you ended the recording. 
Smirking while you watched it, still feeling all hot as you didn’t let yourself finish, not when she’s not here, you want her to do that herself. 
And you hit send. 
Vanessa was walking through mike, the new security guard, through everything he needed to know on looking after this place. It wasn’t an easy job, but Vanessa could see that he had potential. 
Her mind keeps on drifting to you, she couldn’t stop thinking about you. 
Your smile, your laugh, god she wanted to marry you already. 
But she had a plan for that. 
She was so in love with you, anyone who knew that saw it in the way she talked about you. 
Vanessa was ready to spend the rest of her life with you. 
Because she knew you’d make her happy. 
“Hey Mike-” 
She was cut off by her phone going off, she knew it was you, she felt bad she wasn’t answering your calls she just couldn't right now, not when she was making sure this place was okay at least. 
“You wanna take that?” he asks, “sounds important.” 
Vanessa sighed. 
“Just my girlfriend” she chuckled, a smile playing on her lips. Mike nodded in understanding. She was glad he wasn’t throwing her any distaste about her relationship with you. “You okay if I call back? If I don't they will come here and have my head.” 
Mike laughed. 
“Yeah, go ahead. I’ve got it.” 
Vanessa nodded, turning around as she walked out of the security room, where she was now alone. 
There was 5 missed calls and 30 missed texts from you, fuck, she was in trouble. 
She did say she wasn’t going to be any later than 1AM. 
She was about to call you when she saw the photos you sent her, her cheeks immediately heating up as she saw what they were and her heartbeat picked up. She looked behind her to make sure Mike wasn’t there, and hit play on the video you sent her.
It was of you, wearing nothing but her favourite sweater as your hands were inbetween your legs, she tried not to turn up the sound or have it any louder as she could very clearly hear your whimpers of her name, fuck, she was already soaking wet. 
She needed to get home now. 
“Hey mike!” she shouted, catching his attention as he popped his head out of the security office. 
“Yeah?.” 
“I’m sorry but I have to head off, I think I’m in trouble.” 
“That’s fine, see you another time. And good luck.” 
She waved him goodbye, the only thing on her mind was you, as she hopped in her car and drove off. 
When she got home, she took off her jacket and she was expecting to see you already waiting for her in the living room, but you weren’t there. 
“Honey?” she called out, “I’m home.”
“In here!” you replied. 
She followed the sound of your voice, leading her to the bedroom, where she walked in and still hadn’t seen you yet, weird, were you playing with her?. 
She felt something cover her eyes, and smiled, knowing who exactly it was. 
“Hi” you said all sweetly, kissing the back of her neck, making her shiver. 
“I’m sorry” Vanessa mumbled, turning around to wrap her arms around you. “I am sorry to keep you up like this, can I make it up to you?” she asked. 
You bit down on your bottom lip, nodding. 
“I’m sure you saw what I sent you,” you said in a whisper. 
She grins, “of course, you’re such a tease.” 
The blonde pressed her lips to yours, the kiss turning heated quickly as your hands roamed her body, she pressed you against the wall, her tongue dancing with yours in your mouth as you moaned. 
“Fuck” you whimpered, “just fuck me.” 
“Yeah?” she teased, her hand rubbing slowly on your throbbing clit, god she could feel how wet you are for her, “want me to fuck this pretty pussy of yours?.” 
“Yes, please” you begged. 
Vanessa grinned, kissing you again as she placed her hand inside your panties, sliding a digit into your cunt as you bucked your hips against her hand, wanting more.
“Please” you cried, “I need more.” 
“Is that so” she whispered, watching you collapse under her touch and she’s only just begun. “How badly do you want me?.” 
“Vanessa, you kept me waiting for hours, so you show me how much you’ve missed me, I just want you inside me, now” you groaned, feeling her add in another finger, stretching you out perfectly as she placed in another, pumping them in and out, her breathing ragged as you gripped onto her, rocking your hips into her. 
“I’m close” you whimpered. 
“Then come for me, please” Vanessa pleaded, and that broke you. 
You came with a cry of her name, it was better her hearing it in person than on some video, and fuck, was it so much better her fucking you than watching you fuck yourself. 
Vanessa took her fingers out when you’ve had enough, but she knew you’d want something else more after this. She brought them to her mouth, keeping her gaze on you as she sucked on her fingers, tasting you on them. 
“You taste so fucking good” she whispered into your ear, biting down onto your neck, causing you to moan. 
“It’s your turn.” 
You muttered, before pushing her onto the bed.
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s0me-rand0m-d0rk · 6 months
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Ok. So, you know that TV show Ghost Adventures? Let's make it Danny phantom.
Danny, Sam, and Tucker are college age. Danny's studying astrophysics and astronomy. Tucker's studying engineering. And Sam's double majoring in occult studies and parapsychology. They're not in Amity Park, I don't know where they'd be but it would probably be a really haunted city/town. They need some extra money so they start a paranormal investigation group kinda like what Ghost Adventures is, but local. They post their findings on YouTube. They basically blow up overnight and get monetized after they get a few videos out there.
Danny is the "medium". (He's not a medium. He just has ghost powers.)
Tucker's the tech specialist.
Sam's the occult specialist.
But instead of provoking the ghosts and being rowdy and screaming all the time (don't get me wrong, the show is funny and I do enjoy watching it, but we all know they're not always respectful of the spirits.), they're actually trying to solve the problem the ghost is posing. They try to compromise with them and help them pass on.
Sam sends Danny into creepy basements by himself just like Zak does with Aaron. She also pulls the most obscure and random occult facts out of her ass. One time, she told the audience that it was possible to exorcise ghosts using music. She proceeded to play Riptide on a ukulele for the spirit of a pre-teen girl and it worked. After the episode is over, people go to look it up, and low and behold, there it is.
Tucker makes progressively more insane and less believable gadgets to contact and interact with ghosts. Their audience tunes in every week wonder what he'll have next. The last episode, it was some sort of ghostly etch-a-sketch. AND THE GHOSTS ACTUALLY USED IT. Did one of them draw a dick on it like a smart ass? Probably.
Sometimes Danny has full on conversations with no one on camera. He waves when there's no one else in the room. He scolded a poltergeist that tried to push him down the stairs. He consistently says that most ghosts just need a hug. Dark spirit? Hug it. Violent poltergeist? They need a hug. Ghostly child? HUG. The audience notices his eyes glowing in the dark. Is it special effects? No one knows.
No one can tell if they're serious or not. They had a literal gun that shoots ghosts. They play music for ghosts. They have ghostly etch-a-sketches. Unless you're from Amity Park, there's no way you're believing that.
But, people who have their properties investigated often say that the activity stops or de-intensifies or changes all together. People may have to change things, like hanging up a photo of the deceased, holding a memorial service, or stopping/changing renovations. But they make the ghost happy or even pass on. That way they stop throwing the good china out of the cabinets.
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meowmeowriley · 8 days
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Ghost had been on his phone since Soap had entered the rec room. Not unusual, he tended to read emails or news articles in his spare time. No, what was unusual was that he had his phone sideways. Occasionally tapping at the screen with a thumb. Gaming then.
The 141's resident emo was full of surprises, one being that Ghost loved video games. The man had an old Playstation 3 that might as well have been his first born, the way he adored it. If the PS3 were his first child, then his Xbox One was rebellious problem child, the way he cursed it constantly, threatening to dismantle it and use its husk as a doorstop. Something about changing constantly, and adds on startup had been his most recent rant. He swore he loved it too, but the favoritism was obvious.
Ghost would be found in his room on one of the two consoles nearly every evening. With how often Soap found him gaming, this behavior shouldn't have struck him as odd, and yet it was the first time he'd ever seen the man play anything on his phone.
"Ya winnin', Lt.?" The glare he earned for that comment had him cackling as he fixed himself a midday coffee.
Soap sat down on the sofa with Ghost and turned on the TV. Ghost continued with whatever he was doing.
Beneath his mask the man's brow was pinched, he chewed his bottom lip, and each tap of his thumb was marginally more firm than the last. Ghost was seething, then.
Soap abandoned his show and instead watched something much more entertaining; Ghost's apparent descent into madness. He huffed on occasion, shifted in his seat, hunched his shoulders, and glared daggers down at his phone, a look that could make any of the rookies on base cry and wet themselves.
Soap was delighted. After he finished his coffee he jogged back to his room and snatched his journal so he could draw Ghost having his fit, he wanted to commit it to memory.
Soap was nearly done with his sketch, though it was a bit more than a simple sketch, nearing realism with how much detail he'd poured into Ghost's stormy eyes, when Ghost spoke quietly and for the first time in nearly an hour of them sharing space. "This game is for godless heathens." 
Soap nearly lost it, just barely managing to smother the laugh that bubbled forth. He coughed to hide what little escaped him, and used his hand to hide his face, scrubbing down to erase the smile that tried to give him away. "What, ah, what're you even playin', Ghost?"
"Tile Towers, on Webkinz."
Soap did lose it then. He'd seen the now ancient stuffy in Ghost's quarters, a scraggly looking leopard, but couldn't wrap his head around the man actually playing the game, let alone getting this angry over a mini game for children. He laughed so hard it hurt, tears streamed down his face, and Ghost booted him off the couch without even looking away from his phone.
***
Written by someone who recently found out that webkinz classic has a mobile app, and rediscovered their utter hatred for Tile Towers. Why do I keep playing it? It's awful, fucking stupid! And yet I keep. Going. Back. I'm also miffed that my original account has been deactivated. I've only been absent for like 13 years! Come on! 🤬
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hotyanderedaddies · 5 months
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Yandere Puppy Boy Wants to be Your Good Boy
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[Yandere! Puppy Boy! Boyfriend x GN Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
You and Evan have been dating for about a year now. You met in freshman year of college, and seemed to hit it off really well. It kind of amazed you at first that you'd managed to snag a total hunk like Evan.
Evan was the epitome of jock bro: Always working out at the gym, goofing off with his fellow jock friends, and watching tons of sports on TV. Meanwhile, you were a skinny nerd who was at the college on an academic scholarship since you practically lived in the library.
Still, Evan proved to be a great boyfriend. He was funny, attentive, loving-- a total catch. Plus, he was muscular AF!
Then one day, you saw an ad online that sparked your interest, and you couldn't resist purchasing the advertised dog collar that was leather with little spikes adorning it. Once it arrived in the mail, you approached Evan in your shared apartment.
He was on the couch in just his boxers, playing video games. He eyed you, seeing the smirk on your face. "What's up, Babe?" he grunted.
You blushed a little bit. "I just wanted to try something tonight... if you're cool with it?" you asked. Your sex life with Evan was not lacking whatsoever, but it was still healthy to spice things up every now and then.
You pulled the dog collar out from behind your back, holding it up.
At first, Evan laughed. "You want me to wear a dog collar?" he snorted.
"If you don't like it, we can take it off," you shrug, walking up to fasten it around his thick, muscular neck.
The way the leather collar with the spikes fit around Evan's neck made him look really tough, but he felt ridiculous at first. His face was bright red.
You thought he looked kind of cute. "Aww," you cooed, "who's a good boy?" You playfully ruffled his hair.
Good boy...
Something clicked in Evan's brain as soon as you uttered that phrase, and he felt his entire wiring being redone, as if every single instinct he possessed was being reshaped.
Evan's face broke out into a smile alight with zeal, and he dropped onto all fours in front of your feet. "Me!" he happily gushed. "I'm a good boy!"
Holy crap!
You were shocked at how quickly Evan's mind had changed. You weren't sure he'd be into it at all, but looking down at him now, he seemed to be having the time of his life. His muscular pecs heaved with excitement as he sat on all fours in front of you, eagerly awaiting a command. His boxers were already tented out too, damn!
"You're my good boy!" you chuckled as you leaned down and gave your boyfriend some head pats.
"Woof! Woof!" Evan excitedly barked.
That night, he showed you that he was a pro at doggy style, even howling when he came inside of you. The collar was definitely $14 well spent, in your opinion.
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Much to your surprise, Evan loved being a good puppy boy for you. Well... "loved" is probably an understatement.
Evan refused to take the dog collar off, even wearing it out whenever the two of you left the apartment for date nights. At first you thought at it was just him exploring his sexual side some more... but as time went on...
Every time you entered the apartment from work or classes, Evan would excitedly bound over to you on all fours, barking happily and begging for head pats and belly rubs. With his massive bulk, he easily pinned you down, refusing to let you move until he got his pets.
Evan would pin you down on the bed, leaning down to kiss you-- but now his versions of kissing were like puppy licks. He'd lap his tongue all over your face, barking with glee despite your annoyed expression.
You'd be sitting on the couch, trying to watch TV when Evan would crawl over to you (he's been constantly walking around on all fours), wearing nothing but his spiked dog collar. He'd mount your leg and start humping it, whimpering as he rutted his hard cock against you like a dog would against its toy. (You had to apologize to your friend, who was visiting, for the awkward sight.)
You'd be trying to fall asleep after a long shift at work feeling so utterly exhausted when Evan would whimper at the foot of the bed. "Whaaaat?" you'd groan.
"Am I a good boy?" he'd whimper, his voice cracking like an injured puppy's.
"...damn it, yes, Evan. You're a good boy," you'd mutter, getting fed up with this quickly.
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Your friends were starting to pick up on your change of mood, seeing that you were more irritable throughout the day, and not wanting to leave work immediately.
Sensing this, they invited you to the bar after work, to which you happily agreed.
You loved Evan, of course, but you were totally over his new puppy persona. And despite how many times you tried to tell him, all he'd do was tune you out, and beg for pets.
You really needed a break.
"Y/N?" your coworker, Joshua asked, noting how you'd practically downed your cocktail in one gulp. "What's up? What's bothering you?"
You didn't want to be one of those people who go to others whenever you had relationship problems, but you felt lost. "It's just Evan..." you muttered.
Joshua, who was actually a genuine friend who just so happened to be a guy, put a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "I'm sure things will get better," he smiled at you.
A large part of you felt guilty since you were the one who'd purchased the damn dog collar in the first place, but you couldn't stand the thought of Puppy Evan and having to listen to his barking or him chewing on his squeaker toys for one more night.
Before you could say anything else, a low growl made you jerk back.
Evan stomped into the bar, still wearing the studded collar, his eyes narrowed at Joshua as he bared his teeth at him.
"Grrr..." Evan bellowed out a deep growl, all of his large muscles tensed up, making him look big and ferocious.
Joshua immediately retracted his hand from your shoulder, backing away quickly.
"Evan? What are you...?" you try to ask as your puppy boyfriend wraps a large arm around your waist, pulling you roughly into him.
"Mine!" he barked at Joshua, tightening his grip on you.
You were stunned.
He stopped growling when he looked at you, his eyebrows knitting together as he whimpered. "You didn't come home," he whined, nuzzling you. "I had to come find you."
He didn't give you a chance to respond, and instead threw you over his broad shoulder. He puffed out his chest and held his head up with pride, as a dog does whenever they find a cool stick at the park, and carried you all the way home.
You were mortified, wondering how you were going to show your face at work after that. All you could do was seethe with anger as your puppy boyfriend took you home.
Once you were inside, Evan got down on all fours and whined at you. "Wasn't I being a good boy?" he asked. "Why didn't you come home? I missed you all day!"
"Evan, stand up--"
Evan whimpered like a puppy, nuzzling his head against your hand as he asked for head pats.
That was the final straw for you (a small one, but it was like death by a thousand paper cuts).
"I'm done," you finally huff, walking down the hall so that you could pack up some clothes and leave.
"D-done?" Evan yelped, quickly crawling behind you. "But why? Haven't I been a good boy?"
I grabbed your suitcase out of the closet, trying not to look at your puppy boyfriend as he begged in the doorway, perched on his legs with his arms out in front of him, his eyes wide and pleading.
Annoyed, you turned to sneer at him. "No!" you spat. "You've been a bad boy!"
"I'm a bad boy...?" Evan yelped.
You kept your back to him as you packed up your suitcase. Just as you were almost done, you heard that eerie growl again.
"Grrr..."
You quickly turned around and paled when you saw Evan on all fours, standing in front of the door. He was baring his teeth at you and growling deeply, his chest muscles puffed up and making him look all the more menacing. The pissed off glare on his face was akin to a feral dog, and he snarled in your direction.
"E-Evan, please g-get out of the way," you trembled, taking a small step towards the bedroom door so that you could leave.
Evan barked loudly, stomping his hand/paw onto the floor forcefully as he steeled his stance. He continued to snarl at you, lunging forward to scare you.
It worked and you stumbled back, falling onto your ass. You tried to back away from him, but Evan quickly crawled over to you.
He pinned both of your arms down onto the floor above your head, unleashing a loud snarl and he pushed his angry face up close to yours.
"Am I a good boy?" he snarled, baring his sharp teeth at you. "Or am I still a bad boy?"
Your heart raced in your chest. Evan is much stronger than you, and you knew you couldn't fight him off. Plus, the way he bared his teeth at you and the animalistic growl that escaped his throat was much more dog than man, making you shudder.
"Y-yes!" you stuttered. "You're a good boy, Evan!"
Instantly, Evan stopped growling and his broke out into a joyous smile. "I'm a good boy?" he asked, his muscles tensing with with excitement. He still kept you pinned down.
Hell no!
But you didn't want him to maul you or bite out your neck with his teeth. So instead, you slowly nodded.
"You're the bestest boy," you cringed.
Evan's smile grew wider. "'The Bestest'?" he repeated. "I guess if that were true... then you'd never, ever leave. Right?" He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to gauge your reaction.
His chest rumbled as a growl began to form, warning you to answer correctly.
You force a smile onto your face, but it's pained.
"O-of course not," you stammer, your heart falling as you sealed your fate. "You're... my, *gulp, good boy."
Evan smiled widely as leant down to lap at your face as he gave you puppy kisses. "I'm a good boy," he playfully growled as he began to rut his hardening cock against you.
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animeniacss · 3 months
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hiiii are you taking requests? 🥹 i was wondering if you could write a fluffy second chance romance trope with mingyu x reader? 🫶🏻
I am so sorry this took a million years longer than I wanted! But it's all done and I hope you enjoy!! <3
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Synopsis: Mingyu's job as an idol is very demanding, but you guys want to make it work.
Tags: Idol!Mingyu, Canon, Second Chances, Fluff, A bit of angst, Flashbacks
Length: approx. 3.2k words
Mingyu x Reader - The Good Easily Outweights the Bad
You were sitting on the couch, a book in your hand and a coffee on the end table. Your TV has been playing a shuffled mix of different songs, the ambiance changing from power ballads to Western indie pop, to whatever was the top-charting idol song in the past few weeks. You didn’t mind, though. It was a type of chaos you never minded, a type of chaos you preferred. 
One that at times, you even missed.
A familiar rumbling of thunder came up on the television screen and you didn’t even need to look up from your book to feel your lips quirk up into a sad smile. When you did, however, it was just in time for the familiar piano sounds to click into view. A familiar chant was called into the screen, and the song began. 
You set your book down, eyes focused solely on the song. MAESTRO by Seventeen was playing, their most recent comeback and it was one that frequently kept coming up in your song rotation. Mostly because you put it there. 
Well, you and Kim Mingyu himself, that is.
“Have you seen it? Have you seen it?!” Mingyu was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stood in front of your TV. You smiled up at him from the couch, lounged in your sweats and a large tee shirt - it was his - as he typed in the name of their newest video to the search bar. 
“You told me to wait for you to come over, Gyu,” you said behind a giggle. Mingyu turned to you, laughing shyly as he remembered the request. Once the video was up, he walked to the couch, immediately plopping at your side and tugging you under his arm, resting his hand around your waist. Your eyes flickered up to him as the video began, amusement and fondness in your features as you turned back to the video. 
Mingyu always liked playing his music when the two of you were together. Not because he was vain or expected praise, if anything it was the opposite. You would compliment his scenes and he’d blush; lopsided smile and all as he told you to ‘knock it off’. However, you never did, and he never protests under real stress. So, you assumed he played the videos because he liked being teased. And you liked to tease. It was good like that. 
Mingyu hasn’t been to your apartment in a little over two weeks.
Not because you didn’t want him to be. You always wanted him to be. But it wasn’t possible, not the way it used to be. Mingyu’s job as an idol was demanding, especially with all of his success these past few years. From a brand ambassador who traveled the world, to a variety show participant, to a pop idol, Mingyu’s time was spread thin in his career. That meant little, if any, of that time was for you. And that killed you. 
As the song came to an end, another was right on the horizon. It stayed like that for a good three or four songs, and you did not have the heart to change it. You made it louder. Maybe it was because it brought back good memories, of times when the two of you were still able to cuddle on the couch and watch music videos or TV until he had to go for the night. Or even better, until the two of you fell asleep on the couch and woke up in the middle of the night still cuddled up the way you had been. 
You got up as the song changed once again, making your way into the kitchen. End tables and shelves were still littered with photos of the two of you, of you two with both his members and your friends. You knew after a month of not being involved with MIngyu anymore, you really should put them away. Not throw them out, but store them somewhere. But looking at them made you feel a bit of comfort, and you didn’t have enough time or money to go out knick-knack shopping for replacements. So there, the memories sat. 
You opened the fridge, pulling out a tupperware of leftovers from the previous night. You popped open the plastic, the smell of leftover fried rice making your belly rumble and your mind race. 
“Gyu, I’m starving, babe.” You whined, laying your head on the table. Mingyu chuckled from the counter, turning to look at the pan he was currently frying up rice in.
“I said we should order something in because it’s so late.” he reminded. 
“But I haven’t seen you, and I missed your cooking.” 
“And that is why I am currently in your kitchen, cooking.” He nodded. You sighed. “Ahh, don’t worry.” You heard footsteps crossing the little kitchen, and when you looked up from the table, Mingyu leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of your head. “It’ll be done in five minutes.”
“Alright, then I’ll set the table.” you said, getting up and heading over to your cabinets and grabbing two plates. You poked your head over at Mingyu as he returned to the cooking, smiling. “It smells good.”
Mingyu chuckled, almost shy at the compliment. “Thank you~.” he said. 
Your fried rice wasn’t anything like his, but it was still good, and you popped it in the microwave to reheat. As you rested your hips on the counter, you scanned the empty apartment. It was usually empty, since you were the only one who lived there. But with Mingyu, it felt less empty. Not just because he was a towering gym rat who looked a bit beefier every time you saw him, but because his laugh echoed from the living room to the bedroom when he watched TV while you tried to sleep, or his shriek at the sight of a spider echoed from the balcony and most likely all the way back to HYBE. 
Ready to Love started playing on the TV, and your eyes cast up to see the beginnings of the music video. 
The beep of the microwave reclaimed your attention momentarily as you took out the food, grabbing a utensil and returning to the couch, nestling beside the book you left bent right down the middle as to not lose your place in it. The meal was quiet, minus the music playing on the TV. Most of them have been this past month when it was just you home for dinner. You popped the leftovers into your mouth, pursing your lips together. 
“I have our first music show performance for maestro tomorrow.” Mingyu said, sliding his shoes on. “Why am I nervous?”
“You’re always nervous.” you chuckled, resting on the wall. “But you’ll do fine. I’ll be sure to vote, okay?” Mingyu turned to you and smiled.
“I’ll do my best if I know you’re watching.” He said. You nodded. “I’ll try to come by again soon, okay?” 
“Don’t push yourself…” you said softly, and Mingyu’s smile dropped. Maybe it was because yours did as well, you could feel it in your face. He stepped closer, brushing some hair out of your face. 
“I’ll try to come by again soon, okay?” he asked. “Our schedules are really packed but I will.” 
“I know.” you said. Mingyu smiled, leaning down to offer a quick kiss. “I”ll text you when I get back home, and then go right back to sleep!” he pouted. “I don’t want to hear any of this nonsense that you were up all night gaming!”
“I won’t!”
“Wonwoo lives in my apartment, I will hear him.” he said. You laughed behind a hand, and Mingyu’s grin widened. 
“Okay, okay. Goodnight, Gyu.” you said, watching as he grabbed the last of his things and headed out the door, offering one more glance and smile as he headed out the door. 
His schedule really did pack up after that, from music shows to runways to modeling shoots. Everyone wanted a piece of Kim Mingyu, it seemed. Everyone including you. But you told yourself never to be selfish when it came to his career, it was in his life long before you. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. 
Closing the tupperware, you returned to the kitchen and discarded it. Washing it would be a tomorrow you problem. You felt tired all of a sudden. You pressed your back onto the couch, finally clicking off the TV and really dropping the apartment into silence. Your book fell to the floor, but you left it, eyes cast up to the ceiling. Your felt your chest tighten, knowing tomorrow would be another day that Mingyu would be anywhere except here with you. You tried not to let it hurt, but God you just couldn’t help it. 
“Think of something positive, something good.” You mumbled to yourself in the dim lighting of your apartment. You closed your eyes, rolling through the endless cavern of positive memories. 
“It’s nice out tonight.” you said, leaning over the railing of your balcony and admiring the view. Mingyu had a few consecutive days off, and immediately rushed to spend them with you. You turned to him as he sipped a beer, resting comfortably on one of your outdoor chairs. He looked up at you and smiled. 
“It is.” he said. After a second, he pulled out his phone, reaching up to angle it towards the sky. You stepped out of the way, allowing him uninterrupted access to the sky and stars above. 
“Is this for Instagram?” you asked curiously. Mingyu laughed, his shoulder shaking a bit.
“Maybe.” he said. A few more taps on his phone, and without looking up, he moved his hand in your direction. You watched him motion for you to take a few steps towards him. “I want one of you.”
“What?” you asked. “You can’t post that.” Despite your protest, you were already shifting yourself. 
“I won’t.” he assured. You tilted your head, but Mingyu only grinned. “Smile.” 
“Gyu-.”
“I’ll be in Europe for a while…I want something to look at when I miss you.” 
You felt your heart swell, a smile forming on your face as Mingyu snapped the picture. He turned it around to examine the results, nodding. “Perfect..” 
When you took your next breath, it was shaky. Not the best memory to recall it seemed. They had just gone on their Europe trip, making appearances in both Paris for UNESCO and London for Glastonbury. Both of which were big opportunities, wonderful opportunities that Mingyu talked about endlessly with you when he and the other members found out. However, with rehearsals and travel preparations, your limited time with Mingyu decreased even more. 
And then you had to do it.
“A break?” Mingyu asked. “Wh-why?”
“I just think it’s best.” you said softly. “You have a lot going on and I don’t want to tie you down.” You leaned back in your chair, sighing. “Just while your schedule is full. I want you to focus on that, and when-.” you paused. “If things calm down, then-.”
“When has that ever happened successfully?” Mingyu asked. There was no malice in his words, not even all that much hurt. He just genuinely sounded like he wanted to know when ‘a break’ has worked, as if knowing it has worked will make a difference in if it will this time. 
“Gyu…” you sighed. “I just want you to do your job without anything tying you down…”
Mingyu didn’t put up much of a fight after that, finally agreeing that, for now, his focus should be on his upcoming intense schedules. He slipped on his shoes, turned to you with a smile and kiss goodbye as usual, and left the apartment. Neither of you have spoken since. 
You felt your throat close up, wiping your eyes. Mingyu would be home from that schedule, if he wasn’t already. Usually, he’d fly directly to your apartment and cling to you for hours, maybe even all night. 
“I missed you so much!”
“I missed you too, Gyu! Tell me everything!!” 
That wouldn’t happen this time. 
Just as you regained yourself, closing your eyes to try and get some sleep, there was a knock at your door. Your head snapped over, breath stilling. A second passed, and there was another knock, followed by a deep familiar voice calling out your name.
“M-mingyu?!” You called, sitting up. You swung your legs over the side of the couch, getting up and padding over to the door. In one swift motion the door was unlocked and flung open, Mingyu standing there out of breath. “What are you doing? Did…did you run here?”
“I had to.” he said. “I… we got back yesterday, I would have come then if I didn’t crash on the couch as soon as I got home and-.”
“Gyu, wait.” You said, reaching out to take his hand. “C-come in…come in…” Mingyu sighed, walking in and closing the door behind him. “You look so out of breath. Do you want water?”
“Ah, yes. Please…” he said. You spun to head into the kitchen, motioning him into the living room as he trudged in, plopping himself down. “Yeesh! I forgot how far your apartment is from me.” A chuckle escaped your lips as you grabbed a water bottle, walking over to the couch and passing it to him. “Thanks…” he cracked it open and took a long sip. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, not intending for it to come out as harsh at it did. Mingyu looked up at you, and that was when you saw a plastic bag at his side. Your features softened almost immediately at the familiar convenient store logo. His lips quirked up into a smile.
“It’s only been a few weeks. You know I bring our favorite convenient store meal every time I come back from a long trip.” He leaned over, opening the bag and pulling out chips, ice creams, rice balls, and ramen. You opened your mouth to speak, but Mingyu was already a step ahead. “I know what you said before I left…” he said. “I tried to stay away, or at least call and ask if I could come by. But…it just didn’t feel right to not come here right away.” he looked at you. 
“Oh…” 
He motioned the ramen cups to you. “I won’t stay long. But at least humor me and eat some, hm?”
With only a bit of leftover fried rice in your system, you were weak to refuse. Taking the cups, you returned to the kitchen one final time, Mingyu following behind the store the ice cream for later. 
The kitchen was quiet as the two of you sat at the table, waiting for your ramen cups to cook. Mingyu drummed his finger along the table.
“I saw the photos.” you said quickly. “And the performances. You guys were amazing.”
MIngyu looked almost shocked. “You actually watched them?”
“Of course,” you chuckled. “I told you I would.”
“Yeah, but that was before…” Mingyu trailed off. You sighed, looking down at your hands. 
“I know.” you said. “But I still promised.” Mingyu chuckled a bit. Another long silence, and you sighed. 
“Mingyu, I’m sorry.” you said. His eyes shot up as the words tumbled out of your mouth a bit faster than you had intended, if you had intended at all. But they were out now. “I…was so stupid.” 
“Stupid? No, come on now.” he said. “Don’t say that.”
“No, I was.” you said. “You make every effort to keep me in your life, even when you’re busy and I toss it all away for no reason.” you sighed. “The minute I said that we needed a break I wanted to take it back but I didn’t know if I could at that point.” 
Mingyu was silent for a second, opening his ramen cup. The steam rose and hit his cheeks, and he smiled. Grabbing his chopsticks, he stirred, leaning back in his chair to talk. “I talked to Jeonghan and Shua about it while we were away.” he said. “And I had time to think about it myself, too.”
“Oh?” You frowned. Jeonghan and Joshua were his best friends, not yours. You knew if it was appropriate, they’d side with him in a heartbeat. And it was definitely appropriate. “What did they say?”
“Well.” he took a bite of his food and chewed, processing his thoughts before he said. “They told me that it made sense why you felt that way. And that neither of us are in the wrong, but both of us were stressed with my schedules.” He shrugged. “So, I told myself I’d give you space when I came back.” he smiled. “Wait until my schedules calmed a bit and then go from there.”
“So-.” you motioned to the ramen and snacks in the fridge. “Why didn’t you?” 
He chuckled, a bit of pink on his cheeks as he replied: “I just missed you too much.” 
You felt yoru breath catch in your throat at hose words, inhaling a deep breath. “I missed you too. Even though it’s only been a few weeks.” Mingyu chuckled.
“I know.” he said. “We’ve been apart longer, but for some reason these few weeks felt unbearable.” he set his chopsticks down, licking his lips. “Maybe because I’m usually so used to knowing that you’d be here when I got back.” You chuckled. “I was worried you’d slam the door in my face.”
“Oh, come on, what do you take me for?” you pouted, and Mingyu threw his head back to laugh. 
“I know.” he assured. A deep breath. “I’d…like to try again, though.” he said. “I don’t want to be on a break.” he said. “If you really feel strongly about it…I won’t dare push you.” he shook his head. “But, regardless, I hope that until we figure everything out, I can still come by from time to time.”
“Ah, Gyu…” you sighed, finally reaching out to mix your own ramen. “I want to try again too.” His eyes sparkled a bit from across the table as he took another bite into his mouth. “Like I said, the minute I suggested it…I wanted to take it back. I’m sorry…” 
Mingyu got up, ramen up and all, pulling him chair to your side and sitting beside you. When you looked up, he leaned forward and kissed your forehead. 
“Just don’t let your ramen get cold, and I’ll forgive you.” he teased. “Or at the very least, give it to me.” You chuckled, resting against his shoulder. 
“...So, tell me everything that happened in Europe.” you said, putting a bite of food in your mouth. “I heard your pants ripped.” He groaned. 
“Do  we have to start with that?” he asked, and you covered your mouth to laugh. 
“I got these for you!!” Mingyu outstretched a convenient store bag in your direction. When you looked down, you saw ramen, chips, and ice cream inside. He had just gotten home from the Be the Sun tour the day before, and since you couldn’t meet him at the dorms or the airport, he promised to come to you once he was fully unpacked. “I thought we could snack and I’ll tell you all about the tour!” 
You smiled, reaching out and taking the bag, setting it aside before pulling Mingyu into a tight hug. He immediately returned it, hands squeezing around your waist as he nestled into your hair. “I missed you so much.” he said.
“I missed you too, Gyu.” you said. Pulling back, you looked up at him. “Tell me everything!” 
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