#The lighting on set was so low I had to use a lot of lightness and curves layers and as a consequence it reduces the quality

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 10

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 6.5k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Fingering. Squirting. Oral sex (F receiving). Masturbation (M). Description of a heart attack and administration of CPR.

Summary: Comfortable domestication sets into your routines after Will officially moves in with you, and a quick stop at the grocery store on the way home from the gym earns Will another reputation at Publix.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who continues to follow this story and pour on so much love and excitement for it! With the events in this chapter, I'll urge anyone who has never learned or is set to renew to please get certified in CPR as you never know if and when you may need it! (In case anyone is wondering I've been watching far too much Bondi Rescue, already have a kink for first responders, and work in healthcare so this is the result 🤣)

Series Masterlist

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Will pulled another one of his t-shirts out of the box he was unpacking and shook it loose from its current fold, refolding it and then tucking it neatly in the drawer that had been designated for him in your dresser.

All of his things were moved into the house thanks to the help of the guys, and after a couple of sleepless nights due to his insomnia put to good use, almost everything he owned had found a new place intermixed with yours, leaving him with only a few more boxes to sort through.

The usual anxiety he got from disorganization was calmed by a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced in as long as he could remember, the normal stresses of moving his belongings yet again whisked away by the comforts of your house already feeling like home to him, the disarray of clothes and personal possessions that made him tick seeming small compared to the joy that was so immense in his heart.

“Hey,” your soft voice sang as you entered the room, walking up behind him where you carded your hands up his back and pressed a kiss on his shoulder.

Will smiled and covered your hand with his after you had wrapped it around to his front, glancing over his shoulder at you to see your face as much as he could.

“I was thinking you might want something to eat. Are you hungry?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Will confirmed, the grumble in his stomach unnoticed until now with how focused he was on putting things away.

“Okay, I’ll go whip us something up,” you offered, puckering your lips against his back one more time before peeling yourself off of him.

“I’ll do it,” he countered, taking an empty box and stacking it in another one on the floor. “You don’t have to do everything.”

He looked at you with a mix of appreciation and guilt, and you instantly knew a lot of your time living together would be spent with him trying to repay everything you did, never wanting you to lift a finger more than you should have to.

“How about we cook together then.”

Will’s smile was crooked on his gorgeous face, the grin bringing out the lines around his eyes that you loved so much, and he followed behind as you turned and walked out of your room, feeling his arms wrap around you to make you wobble with each step.

You laughed and held onto his forearms, squirming slightly as he rubbed his face back and forth on the side of your neck, a low growl reverberating through him.

He eventually released you, stalking you from a step back whenever you looked over your shoulder at him, pulling your lip in your teeth in seeing the ravenous glint in his eyes.

You decided to lean into this mood he was in, the confidence you felt from the way he kept staring at you making you work to tease him in subtle ways; casually touching your neck and chest with a light trace of your fingers, or slipping past him closer than was necessary to grab cutlery out of the drawer, your breasts brushing his arm as you did.

Looking over your shoulder to see if your flirting ways were getting a rise out of him, you giggled when you saw him shake his head ever so slightly, a quiet warning that only encouraged you more.

You had no reason to bend over to open one of the lower cabinets, but did so anyway, sticking your bum out purposefully in hopes he would take the bait.

Straightening yourself, you continued to face away from him, taking a pot and setting it in the sink where you flicked on the tap to fill it, accepting that you should try to make a valiant attempt at actually making dinner rather than only teasing him.

You grinned when you heard him approach, excitement bubbling in you as you anticipated his retaliation.

His large hand landed on your ass with a smack, playfully but with enough force to make every part of you ache, his tone full of wanting as he leaned over you from behind and spoke in your ear.

“Keep acting like that and we’ll be skipping dinner altogether.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you quipped, turning your body to better admire the way his t-shirt clung to his form as he retreated from you and reached up to open a cupboard, peering out at you behind the door with his eyebrows raised.

“Both. But maybe if you’re a good girl you’ll be made into dessert.”

Heat rushed through your body, your heart thrumming wildly in your chest as he shut the door with some force and closed the distance between you, his dominant stature looming over you and making you feel defenseless in the best way possible.

You closed your eyes, tilting your chin slightly to invite him to do whatever he wanted with you, reminding yourself to breathe as you stood waiting, your body completely still while arousal and lust ran frantically inside you.

You could feel him lean in close to you, the warmth of his body occupying your space, knowing his mouth was so close to yours and that his piercing blue eyes were watching you react.

Remembering once again to breathe, you forced yourself to release the air held in your lungs, your impatience growing as you continued to wait for Will to touch you in some way.

A quiet moan passed your lips with the breath you let out when he caught your chin with his hand, a firm hold on it with his thumb and index finger tucked underneath, angling your head back slightly more.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, the sound of awe in his voice making you smile, your chest swelling from his praise.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he added, his thumb moving to pull down your bottom lip before finally closing what little gap remained between you to kiss you. It was soft and sweet and full of a gentleness that was the opposite of what you were expecting, his hand letting go of your chin to land on your hips with the other one, squeezing your flesh before slipping them up and around your back.

You felt him exhale into you, his body relaxing and melting into yours, and after another minute of slowly tangling his tongue with yours he broke the seal of your lips.

His eyes were heavy when they flickered from your lips that were plump and moist from his and up the rest of your face until he met your gaze, his words coming out quietly but with a conviction you couldn’t deny.

“Let’s go to bed, dinner can wait.”

The house was full of laughter, bringing the biggest smile to your face as you cleaned up a bit in the kitchen, hearing Benny telling a funny story and all the other guys erupt loudly, the happiness you felt in hearing the sound of Will’s true laugh comparable to nothing else.

A full week had passed since he officially moved in with you, and tonight the guys were over for dinner to thank them for their help with moving all of his stuff over to your house; the pizzas almost all devoured and the empty beer bottles accumulating quickly.

Benny strutted into the kitchen as he called out a jab at Frankie over his shoulder, his broad smile greeting you and making yours stretch wider.

“Just remember,” he started, grabbing a couple of beers out of the fridge. “No take-backsies. I know more than anyone what a pain in the ass that one can be to live with but he’s all yours now.” His words came out serious but you knew Benny well enough to know he was joking, the look on his face giving away all the fallacy in his statement.

You laughed and shook your head. “Don’t worry, I’m not letting him go.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” he shouted, exiting the kitchen.

It had been another hour and Frankie, Santiago and Benny were all making their way out the door, Frankie supporting Tom as best he could as more than a few too many beers started to really show their effect on him.

“You sure you got him?” You heard Will ask Frankie as you rounded the corner from your bedroom.

“I’m fine!” Tom slurred, laughing as he tried to shake Frankie’s hold on him, only to stumble out the door and into Benny.

“Yeah, I’ll get him home,” Frankie assured Will, his tone sober and slightly annoyed, this not the first time any of them had had to wrestle his keys from him and drive him home.

“Thanks, man,” Will nodded, closing the door behind them once they all managed to find their way out.

He locked the door and turned around, puffing out his cheeks in a sigh as he raised his eyebrows at you with a knowing glance, then made his way over to the couch.

Will flopped down on it, resting his head back against it, his arms stretched out over the back while his legs splayed out wide.

You looked him up and down, never able to get over how long his legs were in his jeans that fit him so well and how you always found yourself desperate to straddle him whenever he sat like that.

Like he could read your thoughts, he beckoned you over with the tilt of his head, his smile crooked on his lips.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he purred.

You smiled as you slowly made your way over, watching him watch you with satisfaction and a slight deviousness on his face.

You went to grab onto his shoulders and straddle him, only to be stopped when he shook his head and spoke with a quiet demand.

“Not yet.”

You raised your brow and tilted your head, putting your hands up in the air to exaggerate not being able to touch him, a light chuckle sounding off his gorgeous lips.

“Get undressed,” he ordered, the hunger in his eyes making heat burst through your entire body, the need to get your clothes off even more pressing.

There was no time to waste with him sitting there looking like that, so amused and aroused, his confidence radiating through the room between you and into you as you began slipping out of your shirt and then pants, but slowed down when you got to your lacy set of underwear.

Nothing on Will moved other than his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, his stoicism exciting you even more, his patience something to be admired.

You teasingly pulled the straps of your bra off your shoulders in turn, maintaining eye contact with him when you reached behind your back and popped the clasp open, squirming on the spot when it fell to the ground and exposed your chest.

Will tipped his chin up slightly, a subtle sign of his appeasement, his eyes seeming to glow as they floated over your breasts and then down your stomach to where your thong still covered you.

Hooking your thumbs in the waist of it, you slowly shimmied the tiny garment down your hips, only to stop and put it back in place, smiling when Will tilted his head in a somewhat cautionary way, making you abide and pull the underwear all the way down your legs as you bit your lip.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and rough.

“Can I come touch you now?” you asked, hoping his answer would be the one you wanted.

He nodded, his smirk ever-present on his perfect face, and you made your way over to him with as much composure as you could muster, really just wanting to leap into his lap and attach yourself to him.

It wasn’t as easy to get your way as you had thought; Will spinning you to face away from him once you were standing between his legs, a small huff of disappointment blowing out of your lungs as you were made to face the rest of the living room.

“Don’t pout,” he chided, his fingers tracing up the side of your thighs and across your hips, then over the curve of your bum, the sensation divine and ticklish all at once.

You felt his face brush against your skin, his beard both soft and rough, and you hummed as you relaxed to his touch, every caress familiar yet just as exciting as the first one.

His hand slid between your legs, his long fingers running through your folds while his other hand gripped your cheek and pulled it apart, a needy whine sounding out of you involuntarily.

You heard him groan as he continued to explore you, feeling your wet coating his fingers, his nose grazing against your skin as he brought his face nearer to your ass, smelling your arousal and inhaling all of you.

The sound of his heavy breathing and feeling it blow out on your naked flesh made you smile, knowing how crazy he was driven just from you standing there ready for him, your curiosity as to what he would do with you next spiking as much as your desire.

With his patience fully spent, Will forcefully pulled you down onto his lap, his hands pressing firmly on your stomach and chest to angle you back against his front.

You could feel the heat pouring off of him through his shirt and jeans, the denim rough on your bare skin as you shifted slightly and wiggled your bum against the hard bulge you were sitting on.

“Fuck,” he growled, his mouth beside your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck as he grabbed one of your legs at a time and threw them over his vast thighs, spreading his legs further apart so yours automatically did too.

You were now completely stretched wide, your cunt exposed to the rest of the room in front of you, Will’s right hand carding down your stomach that moved with your laboured breaths until he reached your splayed folds and inserted two of his fingers.

Your hips immediately began to move the moment he started pumping his fingers in and out of you, riding his hand that expertly massaged you, your soft cries of pleasure breaking through the quiet air already.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked in your ear, his mouth reattaching to the side of your neck.

You nodded, only to have the option of moving your head stop when his hand that wasn’t between your legs came up and wrapped around your throat, applying the most gentle pressure that had you aching and even wishing he would hold it tighter.

“Will,” you breathed, begging for more, the tempo at which you rocked against his hand increasing, his fingers that were hot and slick from your body moving to toy with your clit.

“You look so beautiful like this, sweetheart,” he growled, his tone not matching the sweetness of his words but all of it making you climb to your high even more.

He inserted his fingers back inside your hole, the heel of his hand hitting your clit and providing a firm base for you to grind against, and he released his other hand from around your neck and let it land on your tits, tugging at your nipples to make you cry out even more.

He kept you firmly against him, your skin rubbing on the material of his clothes with such contrast, your nudity feeling dirty and sinful and adding to everything you were feeling.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice strained as you ground on his throbbing cock through his jeans. “You’re gonna squirt all over me, yeah?”

His question rang out through the blood that rushed in your ears, your orgasm imminent and coming on fast, and knowing you were going to make a mess on him brought you to the edge, heat and pressure coiling at the base of your spine as he continued to roughly fuck you with his fingers.

You attempted to close your legs as your climax ripped through you, only to have Will keep them locked apart how they were by pressing his own further out, forcing you to feel every single part of your high as thoroughly as you could, the pace he kept with his hand not faltering.

You screamed and gripped his forearm hard, knowing you were leaving claw marks in his skin, your entire body spasming as you succumbed to everything he was giving you.

There was no rest when you were done, his fingers still working you relentlessly, determined to pick you apart as much as he could.

“Good girl, you're not done yet,” he hissed, keeping the same harsh rhythm that made you break in the first place.

You jolted against him, wailing and pleading, your body calming just enough to start the build on your second orgasm.

“Fuck! Will!”

“Come on, sweetheart,” he encouraged, his breath hot on your damp skin.

His large form supported you as you arched back into him, pressing hard against his front where he felt so solid compared to how boneless you felt from the intense pleasure he was providing you, and with even more persistence, Will’s fingers made you fall apart again.

The orgasm was even more profound than the first, and just as he had predicted he would make happen, you squirted all over his lap.

“Fuck, that’s it, keep going,” he praised, not letting up as he made sure to draw out every second of euphoria, the mess you were making not his concern right now.

You glanced down at his arm that was still working between your legs, noticing his tattoo glistening with your wet, the movement of his fingers on you finally slowing.

About to make a request to return the favour by offering yourself for him to use in which ever way he wanted, you were robbed of the chance, Will efficiently placing you off his lap and onto the leather cushion that was now slippery and getting on his knees in front of yours that he was forcing apart with his hands.

He looked at you hungrily, ready to devour you, his glance almost a warning that made your breath halt in your lungs as you waited for him to pounce, his fingertips gripping at the softness of your thighs.

“I need to taste this,” he huffed out, his chest moving exaggeratedly with heaving breaths.

Will dove his face between your legs, licking a broad stripe up your inner thigh until he reached your soppy cunt, your body shuddering in reaction to more stimulation on your oversensitive sex.

“Fuuuuuck!” The word was drawn out, your head falling back against the couch as you arched into his face, his hands pulling you closer to him as he dragged you to the edge by gripping under your ass.

He ate everything he had coaxed out of you, his groans of appreciation rumbling through you, and you opened your eyes when you felt him remove his hands from your body, watching him unbuckle his belt and then open the button of his jeans, the sound of his zipper pulling down making an excited noise blow passed your lips.

He continued to lick and suck at your clit, swiping through your folds and then swirling his tongue around your swollen bud, giving it a pull with his lips as he peeled his boxers down enough to release his throbbing cock and take hold of it, his breathing and intensity of his movements on you increasing after just a couple of strokes on himself.

Knowing he was transferring your juices from his hand onto his cock to lubricate his actions turned you even more feral, his muffled groans driving you even more crazy with lust.

“God, Will!” you cried, reaching behind you to grip the back of the couch with your hand, riding his face that he kept pressed firmly on your center, your eyes closing again despite being so desperate to see him jerk his long cock in his hand.

He was focused on his task, destined to make you shatter for a third time only now on his tongue, your pleasure adding to his own.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come again!” you wailed, and Will stayed exactly how he was, maintaining the same pace and pressure on your aching cunt as you crumbled, the only change being on his cock that he pumped furiously.

You exploded on his mouth, your cry sharp as your body convulsed, hardly noticing that Will had left your body and stood before you in your weak, fucked-out state as soon as you had finished.

Your tired eyes opened slowly when you felt his fingers under your chin, holding your face up, his thumb swiping on your lower lip where he gently forced your mouth open.

You looked up at him with love and obedience, letting your jaw hang for him, watching his gorgeous face contort with pleasure as he continued to work himself.

The muscles of his stomach and legs flexed wildly as he started to release, his moans growing louder as his load shot out onto your lips and tongue that you stuck out to catch a taste, not shying away from being covered in his cum, angling your torso forward to get yourself directly in the path of it.

It felt wonderfully warm on your skin, landing on your chest that had now cooled slightly from your sweat, your nipples hardening as it dripped down the curve of your breasts and tickled your sensitive skin.

Your smile was almost deranged as you looked up at him, the man who you loved and would do absolutely anything for, never feeling more powerful and sexy than you were now as you sat in your own mess while covered in his, the smell of your love heavy in the air.

He knew it too, his own crooked, sated grin tugging up the one side of his lips as he caught his breath, his hand returning to hold your face as he looked down at you with pride.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he spoke lazily, his orgasm taking away any tension in his body.

Your grin stretched out even more, the most satisfied, warm feeling running through your veins, your eyes closing as you bit your lip and caught another taste of him and relished in the way he loved and praised you.

“You don’t mind if I just run in quickly?” you asked, watching Will nod his head again in confirmation as he turned left at the stoplight.

“Yes! It’s fine,” he chuckled, amused that you had now checked with him twice that he didn’t care if you stopped in at the grocery store quickly on your way home from the gym. “I can get some stuff to barbecue for dinner tonight.”

“Yeah? Okay,” you agreed lightly, happy he was choosing to come in with you and didn't seem too bothered by it.

Will pulled into the Publix parking lot and found a spot near the back that was away from all the other cars and big enough for his truck, raising his eyebrows at you as he turned the key in the ignition and unfastened his seatbelt.

“Let’s go,” he chimed, opening his door with a somewhat forced smile, and you sensed a bit of hesitation growing in him as the amount of occupied parking spaces indicated the number of people inside.

You met him on the other side of the truck after getting out where he stood waiting for you, taking your hand in his before walking through the lot together.

“Thanks for coming with me,” you said softly to him, turning your head and pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you walked.

He gave your hand a squeeze and smiled at you, his sigh audible as you stepped in through the automatic doors.

“Why don’t you go grab what you need and I’ll meet you at the checkout?” he suggested, his eyes surveying the store rather than looking at you.

It was busy, families and couples and even more people on their own weaving in and out of the produce stands with their carts, and you knew Will already wanted out of there as quickly as possible.

“Okay, I’ll be quick,” you promised, already stepping away from him to get a move on despite not wanting to let go of his clammy hand.

Will cursed under his breath as he made his way through the produce section, regretting his decision of coming in as he felt a slight sense of panic start to creep up his spine, and he began counting his breaths to himself as he grabbed some peppers and zucchinis and then moved to where the fresh meat was displayed.

He picked out a pack of chicken thighs and felt some relief that he had efficiently got everything he needed for dinner, only to remember the bottle of olive oil at home was almost empty and he would have to go through more of the store to get to the aisle where it was stocked.

He breathed out a sigh of relief when he turned down the aisle and it was empty aside from a gentleman facing one of the shelves who he assumed was in his sixties, passing by him quietly to stop in front of the bottles of various types of cooking oils, glancing at the prices and regions they were from.

Will reached out for a bottle, stopping when he felt a heavy hand land on his arm, making him shuffle it against the other ones on the shelf and almost fall off.

“What the f–” he started, his hand raising quickly in an instinct to protect himself while his anger did the same in his alarm, the groceries he was holding falling to the ground. When he saw it was the man he had passed dropping to the floor beside him in a heap, he immediately changed his tune, his confusion and defensiveness switching to act on the first aid training he’d practiced his whole career.

“Hey, hey,” he called, doing his best to guide the man carefully to the floor so he didn’t hit his head, a look of pure terror in his eyes as he stared at Will desperately. “It’s okay, buddy.”

“Fuck!” Will cursed, whipping his head around to look for help as the man immediately went unconscious.

Will’s index and middle fingers landed on his neck to check for a pulse, carefully waiting for a couple of seconds only to feel nothing beating against them.

He quickly positioned himself at the man’s side and placed his hands one on top of the other in the center of his sternum, beginning compressions and counting each one in his head.

One, two, three, four, five…

Each second felt like an eternity as Will waited for someone to pass by the aisle, unable to believe with how busy the store was that there was somehow no one around.

…eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen…

Finally someone walked by.

“Hey! HEY!” Will shouted, his voice a boom amongst the normal sounds of chatter and generic music playing overhead, the beep of the cash register scanning food carrying on as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

The other man Will had yelled at stood frozen behind his cart, only nodding his head as Will instructed him what to do.

“Call 911 and ask an employee for a defibrillator. Now.”

The guy fumbled for his phone in his pocket but to Will’s relief was on the line with the 911 operator right away, and thankfully someone else noticed what was happening and came over to Will.

“What can I do?” they asked, kneeling beside the unresponsive man.

“Tip his chin up and back to try to open his airway,” Will explained, still compressing on his chest.

About a minute later and already into his second round of chest compressions, an employee skirted around the corner with the defib in hand, moving quickly to open it.

“There should be scissors in there,” he explained, still counting in his head. “Cut his shirt off.”

They did as they were told, quickly exposing the man’s chest as Will continued to press on it where his unbeating heart lay beneath, trying to get it pumping again.

“Put one pad here…good, and the other there,” he nodded, indicating the spots where they needed to go with his head as he continued what he was doing.

Will stopped doing CPR once the automated voice instructed him to stop touching the patient, waiting for the defibrillator to assess and confirm if a shock was needed, wiping the sweat dripping from his face with his hand.

When you heard an employee who was stocking a shelf say to another as you walked by that there was an emergency happening a few aisles over, your heart immediately jumped into your throat.

Automatically, you started hurrying through the store, glancing down each section you passed in search of Will, trying to calm yourself and reassure your racing mind that it was unlikely it had anything to do with him, knowing nothing like what happened to him before in this store was likely to happen again.

You slid between a group of people crowding around the end of the condiments section, standing by and watching the scene before them that you eventually were able to see for yourself.

Will’s wearied, blue eyes instantly met with yours as you locked in on him kneeling beside an older man who paramedics were now attending to, the apparent excitement starting to settle as the man who, from what others were whispering beside you, was ‘dead’ only a minute ago.

Will gave you a nod that told you he was fine as he continued telling the paramedics what had happened and how many rounds of compressions he had performed, and that after two sets of CPR, the man’s pulse returned after having been unresponsive for exactly four minutes and fifty-three seconds.

Knowing there was nothing more he could do now that the paramedics were treating him and he had regained consciousness, Will stood and stepped over to you, placing his arm around you so his hand landed on the small of your back.

You felt it shake against you slightly, but he nodded again to confirm he was okay when you asked, his deep breath blowing out as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

A woman beside him clapped her hand on his arm appreciatively, congratulating him on his efforts. “You’re a hero!”

A few other people standing close agreed with her claim, and Will shook his head and glanced over at you, his voice quiet when he spoke.

“Can we get outta here?”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, not taking your eyes off of him as you slipped through the crowd and made your way out of the store.

It was silent after his door slammed shut, and you watched as Will stared out the windshield for a minute before sighing out slowly and then looked down at his lap.

You didn’t say anything, simply reached over and placed your hand over his, smoothing your thumb on the back of his hand until you saw the tension he held in his body visibly relax, his shoulders dropping and the flex in his cheek releasing.

His next sigh mixed with a bit of a laugh, shaking his head as he finally spoke.

“Maybe I'll have a better reputation at Publix now.”

You squeezed his hand, watching him continue to look almost defeated even though what he had just done was truly amazing, knowing how much guilt burdened him from the first incident he’d had at the store.

“You’re a good man, Will,” you proclaimed, feeling it to be the most true thing that’s ever come out of your mouth other than your love for him, your heart aching for him that he would never believe it no matter how many lives he saved or good things he did to make up for the ones he’d taken and choices he’d made.

When he remained quiet, knowing his mind was going a mile a minute and beginning to torture him with things he could no longer control, you leaned over the console and reached for his face, landing your palm on his cheek to get him to look at you.

“Hey,” you called, softly, and he smiled weakly as he turned his head and glanced over. “Do you want me to drive?”

He shook his head again, leaning slightly into your palm for a second as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“No, it’s okay. Driving will give me something to focus on. Thank you though,” he said, genuinely, his hand covering yours that still remained on his cheek, kissing your palm before peeling it off of him so he could press a kiss on your knuckles.

“Let’s go home,” he added, adjusting his body against his seat to shift his tired muscles before putting on his seatbelt and turning the key to start up the engine with a low roar.

“I’m gonna have a shower,” Will announced when you got in the door, still needing one after the gym and even more so now after the stress of the emergency at the store.

“Yeah, okay, enjoy,” you said, giving him a quick peck on his lips.

Your eyes lingered on him for a moment, and he looked at you honestly, his tone true when he spoke.

“I’m okay, sweetheart, I promise.”

You smiled. “I know you are, Will. How about I sort us out some dinner? You must be hungry after all that.”

He held his stomach and sighed with a grin, “I’m starving!”

You giggled and nodded, stepping toward him again to wrap your hands around his middle to hug him, angling your face up at his. “Okay, go get clean and then I’ll get you fed.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing you slowly. “I’ll never deserve you, baby.”

His hands stroked your hair as his eyes swept over your features like he would never fully grasp that you were his to love and vice versa.

“But you do,” you corrected, a smile dressing your lips when a smirk formed on his.

Will finally broke your embrace and disappeared to the bathroom, leaving you to go to the kitchen where you pondered what to put together for a meal while standing in front of an open cupboard.

You had really needed to grab a few things at the store, the pantry looking sparse and the fridge brighter than normal with all the empty spaces in it, and closing the door, you decided it was worth spending a couple extra bucks to order in some comfort food after a trying day.

Even though it wasn’t remotely cool outside, you decided some hot, spicy Pho would be the perfect choice, quickly ordering it on a delivery app and smiling when it was confirmed to arrive in less than twenty minutes.

You went into the living room and closed the curtains, grabbing two blankets from where they were neatly folded on the ottoman along with some pillows and placed them on the floor between the couch and coffee table.

A few candles were now lit and brought a warmth to the room that you loved so much, and you turned on the tv, selecting Seinfeld, knowing Will would appreciate having a familiar favourite on that would be easy to watch and take his mind off the excitement of what happened.

The sound of the shower was still going, and while waiting for the food to arrive, you ran down into the basement quickly to stick a clean towel in the dryer for a couple of minutes, hoping you would make it back up the stairs before Will was finished.

You slipped in the bathroom door that was left ajar, placing the hot towel on the vanity for him to use when he stepped out, taking a moment to admire his naked form standing beneath the stream of water, looking statuesque and godly.

Forcing yourself back out of the bathroom and not into the shower with him, you answered the door after hearing a knock, bringing the bag of food over to your cozy set-up.

You had just finished setting it all out when you heard Will walk in, and looked up to see him smiling brightly, his hair wet and sticking up a bit, his grey track pants low on his hips that made his bare upper body appear even longer.

“The warm towel was a nice touch,” he smirked, striding over where he wrapped his hands around you and pulled you into him, kissing you fiercely.

You giggled against his lips, your hands spreading out over his warm skin that was still tacky from his shower.

“Good.”

“What’s all this?” he asked, nodding behind you to the two giant bowls of soup.

You shrugged, “I thought it would be nice after everything that happened. Plus our options here were something between cereal and a can of tuna.”

Will’s eyebrows rose on his forehead in agreement, and he nodded as he looked at you with warmth and love in his blue eyes.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

With full bellies, you moved onto the couch, snuggling up to Will’s side with his arm draped comfortably over you to keep you close to him, his occasional laugh moving your head along with that of his chest as you rested against it.

“I’m glad you were there with me today,” he said quietly, his fingers lacing with yours as he did.

“I was the one who dragged you there in the first place.”

He huffed a small laugh, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he looked down at your entwined hands.

“Maybe we were meant to be there,” he admitted, his voice quiet almost as if he was thinking out loud.

You nodded in agreement. “I think so.”

“I hope he’s doing okay,” he added, giving your hand a squeeze as he thought about the man’s family, hoping he was lucky enough to have someone to love and fuss over him through his recovery, realizing more than ever what it meant to have someone to love you with their whole heart but knowing that if there was such a thing as luck in this world, he had taken it all.

Will tilted his head to see your face better, staring at you for a minute before speaking with quiet conviction.

“I love you so much.”

You reached up and rubbed his cheek, his beard soft on your skin. “I love you too, Will.”

“I feel like I can’t tell you enough.”

Your smile faded out as you took in the perfection of him, the warmth in his eyes and the fullness of his lips, your eyes trailing down to his chest where his clean, porcelain skin harboured his heart that held more love in it than anyone you had ever met before.

“Then tell me again,” you whispered.

He leaned closer to you, his lips temptingly close to yours while maintaining eye contact that made your breath stop.

“I love you.”

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@daryldixonpls @christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ok I just saw your Vamp!Rhys brain rot headcanons post and I'm letting you know right now if you do not develop them into full blown chapters for Vamp!Rhys I'll literally sue for emotional damages ok thank you <3

lol I suppose I can make that happen ;)

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

Ancient Recipes

The bed is, surprisingly, empty when you awaken, the last rays of evening light filtering in through a crack in the curtains. Your hands brush absently through the cold sheets as if they could tell you where he’d disappeared off to. He’s not usually up this early.

With a yawn, you slide out of bed and yank on one of his discarded shirts, leaving the silky button down open down the middle in a half-hearted attempt at decency before padding off in search of him. 

The library and game room is empty, the curtains pulled tight, the air a little stuffy. You can hear Cassian snoring from behind his closed door and a tendril of shadow still guard’s Azriel’s door handle, telling you that he’s not off with either of them this early.

Eventually, you find yourself wandering down into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty too, but figuring it’s worth a shot. You’re surprised to find Rhys bent over the stove, shirtless, sleep pants slung low over his hips as he carefully chops a mix of vegetables. His ears twitch as you walk towards him, a sure sign that he hears your approach. 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says without turning. You can hear the pout in his voice without seeing the purse of those full lips you love so much.

“Missed you,” you say as you slide your arms around his waist and bury your head between his shoulder blades.

He sets the knife down long enough to run a hand over where yours hold his waist. “I was coming right back.”

You place a kiss against his spine before leaning around him to get a better view of what he’s doing. “I didn’t know you could cook?”

“I am a thousand years old, Darling,” he purrs. “That’s a long time to not learn how to prepare a meal.”

There’s an old, hand written book propped up against the stone wall, the swirling script fading under the cruel hands of time in a language long forgotten. The pages are brittle and yellow now, the date written in the corner nearly illegible. 

“What are you making?”

Skilled hands throw in diced vegetables and dried herbs into a pot simmering with some sort of red sauce. “Something my mother used to make me,” he says softly. “These are her recipes.”

Your chest tightens. He’d told you about the hunters that had killed his mother and sister not long after that night when those hunters had come for you. He’d, understandably, been on edge since, the encounter bringing up a lot of old memories he hadn’t touched. It’s little surprise that he would try and find some solace here.

“Smells good,” you say. 

He twists and pulls you in front of him, so you can watch as he works. “Can’t find all the right ingredients,” he frowns. “Some of these spices have been lost to time. I think these will work instead. Hopefully.”

Rhys dips a wooden spoon into the bubbling liquid and brings it to your lips, “Try this for me?”

You give it a second to cool before taking a taste, the mixture both earthy and spicy, but deliciously warm. “It’s good!”

“Yes, but is it right?” He insists.

You tilt your head up to look at him, brows raised, “How would I know, Rhysand? By the sound of it, most of the things you’re missing were lost to the world before my parents were even born.”

You think if he was capable of it he might have blushed against the mistake. Instead, he kisses the top of your head. “I suppose I could ask Az.” He licks a bit of the mixture, frowning as he goes, before putting the spoon directly back into the pot. Apparently a key ingredient in ancient recipes is a little bit of saliva. 

A moment later, the shadowy vampire emerges, summoned for this oh so important errand. Azriel’s dark hair is sleep tousled, shadows swirling lazily around his bare shoulders. Any other morning with the two males looking like this you would have climbed them like a tree, but this morning is apparently for other things, as Rhys nearly flings the spoon in Azriel’s direction. 

“What am I missing?” He demands.

Az takes a taste and spits it into the sink. “What did you do?!” He all but shoves the two of you out of the way to reach for the spice rack in the cupboards above your head. “Your mother would have beat you with that spoon.”

“I know!” Rhys huffs. “What did I forget?”

Azriel starts opening old jars of dried herbs and adding them into the pot. “Egg and thyme for one thing, dumbass.”

Rhys grabs the book off the counter and looks more closely at the recipe, keeping one arm around your shoulders to have you close even so. “Oh, yeah I did forget the egg.”

Azriel cracks four of them into the mixture, before throwing in more herbs. “You’re cooking it too high too.”

Rhys brushes his lips over your hair. “Wanted to bring it to you in bed before you woke up.”

You twist and lean up on your toes to give him a proper good morning kiss. “I would have loved it anyway.”

“Human taste buds are disgusting,” Azriel huffs.

You hear Cassian’s footsteps before you see the half-awake vampire stumble into the kitchen. “Are we cooking what I think we are?”

“Not if Rhys has anything to do with it,” Azriel huffs.

“It was for Y/N!” Rhys returns. “I didn’t make enough for everyone.”

“But she’s so good at sharing,” Cassian says with a wink, his sleep thick voice enough to make heat pool between your legs. 

Rhys lifts you up and places you on the counter, beside where Azriel still chops more ingredients, so he can kiss you deeper this time. “Mine.” 

“Not with your cooking she’s not,” Azriel quips. 

Cassian tuts as he comes over to Azriel’s other side and dips a finger into the now simmering pot. Azriel smacks his hand with the back of the wooden spoon and Rhys hisses, fangs glinting in the candlelight.

“How are you supposed to take care of the little human if you can’t even cook her a decent meal?” He brings his fingers to his mouth for a taste, then frowns. “Do neither of you own any peppers at all? What is this, baby food?”

“I added the aleppo, just as the recipe said!” Rhys retorts. 

“You definitely didn’t! Your mother never made anything this bland!” Cassian insists.

“I’m following the recipe!”

Azriel snatches the book, scarred hands thumbing quickly through the pages. “I remember it being spicier.”

Rhys frowns. “Maybe we’re thinking of that other recipe she used to make?”

“No that one was for dinner,” Cassian returns. “I definitely remember a spicy breakfast dish. Especially on cold winter mornings.”

“He’s right,” Azriel chimes in, eyes still glued to the pages. 

“I mean, our tastes did change when we turned, maybe we’re the problem?” Cassian asks, running a hand over his face in thought. 

“Your tastes change when you turn?” You ask.

“A little,” Rhys says with a frown, violet eyes on the dish. “Maybe you’re right, Cass. Did you think it was spicy, Darling?” 

“A little,” you reply. “It could use more, I think, but again, I’ve never tried it before so I’m not exactly an expert.”

Cass peers into the pot. “It looks right.”

Azriel sets the book back on the counter with nothing short of reverence. “Guess it is us.”

Rhys’s face falls, it’s like watching him lose a piece of the past. You take his face in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. “I think any mother would be proud to know that you loved something so much that you put all this effort into sharing it, whether is tastes the same or not.”

His grin is soft, like the kiss he plants on your lips, taking his time to pull out of it.

“Thank you for sharing a piece of you with me,” you say.

Azriel scoops it up into four small portions, the wooden dishes old and reminiscent of a time long passed. Not the formal dining ware they bring out at parties, but a little piece of home that managed to survive the passage of time. 

It’s delicious, Az had been right about needing the egg and thyme, it brings a more rounded flavor to the dish. But it would have been equally fine if Rhys had brought the first attempt to you in bed, simply because he loved you enough to try and make something for you even when he could not fully enjoy it himself. It tastes all the better because it’s something the four of you can share, can make new memories out of. You certainly will not forget it, not even in the coming change of your mortality. 

“Well now you’ve got me curious for what other ancient recipes you’ve been hiding,” you say as the meal comes to a close. 

“You make us sound like we’re old as dirt,” Cassian huffs. 

You wink up at Rhys as he kisses your temple. “A thousand years is a long time. What else can you make for me?”

[fangsandsoftgrass]

Soft music and indistinguishable chatter filled the air around her as Cirwedh stepped onto the balcony of Beragon's townhouse, Gladriel in tow as the previous noise died down.

All eyes were on her as Beragon began his toast, and when they all called her name, one voice, in particular, caught her ear. Standing off to the side with his hands clasped behind his back was Fennorian, Ursilia standing beside him and conversing with some Skingrad noble the Count must have brought; glass of wine in hand. Their eyes met, and while the rest of the party faded they shared a moment of relief, having found each other amongst strangers. They would have time later, but Cirwedh could already feel herself being pulled in different directions as those gathered clamored for their chance to thank her. For what? they'd never remember.

Cirwedh weaved through conversational checkpoints like a needle and thread, exchanging clasped hands and well-practiced pleasantries until the sun sank low behind the trees, and the last few people trickled back into the townhouse proper (to continue the party somewhere with more food, she was sure). She had settled into a heated debate on the floor with Gladriel when the sound of her name caught her attention, just in time to see Ursilia close the door into the parlor. Fennorian was just as soon crossing the floor and pulling her into his arms. For a second, Cirwedh thought she smelled strawberries.

"I've been waiting all afternoon to hold you." the sentiment had her knees weak. As she pulled back to look him over, she noticed just how nice his clothes were. Fennorian had ditched the leathers altogether and instead opted for silken pants and a tunic, both dyed black and accented with silver closures that matched the coffin dangling from his neck. An almost opulent vest of deep maroon and scarlet florals brought it all together, visibly aged but still a fine piece of clothing. He noticed her staring and spoke up, "It was Verandis'. Seen plenty of court intrigue and ballrooms, I'm certain."

"And I thought I'd overdressed." A sparkling laugh spilled from her lips as she smiled and cupped his cheek with a sprouting hand. The only thing Alea had told her was to dress finely—well, as finely as she could, considering how she'd been covered antlers-to-toes in everything by the time she had returned to the city—so she draped herself in borrowed silk and leather, keeping it all on with living vines and the same blooming peonies she'd seen growing in the Skingrad gardens. Vibrant leaves and scars covered whatever skin was exposed, and beneath them lay enough freckles to make the stars envious.

"Considering some of the collars here were bigger than Glad's head, I'd say we're doing about average for this place." This earned a light chuckle. Somewhere below them, a gentle melody played, and muffled cheering could be heard from some other part of the city as people danced in the streets below. The arms around her tightened before releasing, and Cirwedh watched with a raised brow as Fennorian bowed deeply, eyes never leaving hers as he extended his arm for her to take.

"Would you give me this dance, Love?" a single pearly fang peaked from behind smiling lips. Small flowers crept up her antlers, and a deep blush settled across her cheeks as she took his hand and fell into his arms once more. The movements were slow and fluid, similar to a waltz she'd seen before in Alinor but never tried, and the setting sun painted everything golden as the stars shone like diamonds in the hazy dusk.

"I'm sorry I waited." She felt a pit of guilt begin growing in her gut. "I Saw Ursilia just standing there, and I think if I had gone over, she would have left with a few nasty scratches."

Fennorian sighed and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I know she's told you she's using my guilt over the engagement—I'll take that up with her later—But we did burn a lot of profitable stock. The least I can do is make sure the vineyard's workers are properly safe." He squeezed her hand in assurance and pulled her closer before, somewhere in the distance, a loud snore from Gladriel interrupted. Laughing breathily as he held her near, Fennorian dipped down to capture her lips in a kiss full of love and shared longing. Yes Cirwedh had given some rather colorful opinions on the Lady, but here, on this balcony, she remembered why she'd put up with that blighted vineyard in the first place.

"If she takes any more than what is owed, what you feel is owed," her voice was a raspy whisper as she spoke against the soft skin of his lips, "I will turn her into soup." She pecked his cheek, mischief dripping from her tongue.

"I'm sure she would taste awfully bitter, my dear." His eyes glinted, reflecting in them a shared amusement as he shook his head.

"That is why I'll feed it to her, of course." her eyes wrinkled as she flashed her signature sharp-toothed grin.

Fennorian's chest rumbled against her with warm laughter as he spun her around and took her hands in his own, kissing her deeply once more. She had mourned the Paths not taken; it was true. But here, in the heavy, humid air that smelled of strawberries and peony, Cirwedh felt in the hands of her lover that she'd made the right choice.

IM FUCKING LOSING IT ANYWAY THANK YOU @saatoruus FOR ALWAYS SEEING THE VISION AND MAKING IT MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN I COULD EVER IMAGINE MWAH MWAH I LOVE U FOREVER

[harwin-breakbones-strong]

BEHIND THE SCENES OF RHAENYRA & LAENOR'S WEDDING With Milly Alcock, Theo Nate & Ryan Corr on set during dance rehearsal

[pseudowho]

"So, you go against the hairs...that's right...and then with the hairs..."

"...is-- is this right?"

"Mmm. Now, clean your blade..."

You pretended to tidy the bedroom, sneaking glances up to Kento, and Yuuji, stood shirtless at the bathroom sink. Both had thickly lathered faces, and sharp razors, examining their faces in the mirror with absolute precision.

Sshhhhick. Swshswshswsh. Shhhhick-ck-ck. Swshswshswsh.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Peach fuzz.

"...and so anyway, I said to Fushiguro, shadows are great but sometimes you gotta just hit a guy..."

Kento listened, quiet, his mind always calculating several threads while mentoring Yuuji; yet, he was distracted. The old school corridor bathed in orange evening light, setting Yuuji's hair aflame, to coral in rocks. With Yuuji's nattering profile illuminated, the edges of his cheeks blurred from their usual sharp relief.

Fuzzy.

"...like, Kugisaki gets it, but she's like, just a bit feral and..."

Kento wondered if Yuuji had noticed. Kento recalled he only noticed, when his grandfather brushed his jaw with one clawed-over old hand, softly mocking Kento's furry scowl in lilting Danish. Kento's eyes lowered to the floor, counting his own steps and thinking in one, two, three and thoughtful on four, five, six.

"...Gojo's great but it's hard to learn from a guy who's that far out of my league, y'know? So--"

"Itadori-kun."

Kento had stopped, straightening his glasses, looking out onto suburban skyline. Yuuji stopped with him, inquisitive. A train rattled through, distant, splitting through the sunset. Kento looked back to Yuuji.

"It's important to look tidy, at work. Professional."

Yuuji raised his eyebrows, elbows rounded as he held his arms out, looking down at himself. He shot Kento a bashful smile, rubbing the back of his head.

Fuzzy peach.

"...ah-- yeah...guess I've always been a bit scruffy, huh? My grandad used to tell me I'd never get a job with hair like this."

Kento hummed. He stepped forwards, and raised one long-fingered, broad hand to gently grasp Yuuji's jaw, tilting it back and forth in the amber glow. Yuuji's bottom lip drew up, his eyes wide in surprise.

"...Nanamin?"

"Has anyone taught you how to shave, Yuuji?"

Yuuji blushed, his eyes flicking away from Kento in a mortified little scowl, his jaw still clasped. Kento released him, clearing his throat and checking his watch.

"I think we're finished up, here. Do you have any evening plans, Itadori-kun?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"If you need to go over an area again, get more shaving foam-- not that much-- and repeat the steps..."

"...this is...tricky..."

"With regular practice, you can improve any skill, Itadori-kun. Unless you'd like a beard, which still needs management, you'll be shaving every few days, or more."

"...you always...look so tidy..." swshswshswsh.

"It takes effort." Shhhick. Swsh.

"Yeah right. I bet you wake up like that. Tie and all."

A deep, rumbling laugh. Yuuji's foamy, surprised face, looking so boyish.

You slid past the bathroom. You pulled your phone out, surreptitiously clicking a photo. Kento and Yuuji, leaning over the sink while Kento steadfastly instructed him, became your new phone background, and stayed as such for a full year.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Took a lot of portions to send him to bed with a full tummy."

Kento chuckled at you, his hair mussed and soft. Legs crossed in bed, with a book on his lap, he read to the sound of soft snores in the guest bedroom next door. The lamplight, low and warm, illuminated Kento's face in the gloom.

Stubbly.

You reached a hand out, brushing across his jaw, feeling its sandpaper rasp across your fingers.

"I think you were so busy teaching Yuuji," you whispered, scratching Kento's chin as he crumpled his lower lip up, "that you missed some patches yourself. C'mere."

You stood, walking to the bathroom and sitting on the counter, grabbing a razor and shaving foam. Kento's eyes twinkled at you, feigning annoyance. He walked to you at the sink, looking straight into the bones of you. He grasped your thighs, pushing them apart before settling between them, chuckling again as you lathered his face.

Shhhhick. Swshswshswsh. Shhhick-ck-ck. Swshswshswsh.

You felt a growing pressure between your legs as you focused on shaving Kento's jaw. Kento fidgeted, pyjamas tight and tenting. You bit your lip, smirking.

"...Mr.Nanami. I am trying to concentrate."

"Mmm, so am I, but it's...hard."

"Yes. I can feel that."

Another deep rumble of a laugh. Kento grasped your thighs tighter, pressing forwards into you. You gasped, taking the razor from his face as Kento nuzzled shaving foam into your giggling neck.

"Don't stop." He whispered, a crooked smile on his lathered face. "Concentrate, please, Mrs.Nanami."

[bamsara]

Hello! I was wondering what company you use for your sticker sheets? I bough one from your Ko-Fi shop and really like the quality, and the pricing you were able to sell at is waaaaaay more reasonable compared to any of the companies I've seen and used myself. Is it a POD company, or a mass purchase of them to sell on your own?

Thank you for your time if you're able to respond!

I'm really glad you like the quality, because I actually make them by hand at home! (Please forgive the lighting, my bedroom is my office lmao.)

I don't use a company (and Idk what a POD company is sorry!) but making them at home gives a lot more freedom of stock, just be wary it can be very time consuming depending on how many you need to make.

I've had other people ask before, so here's a rundown of how I make my stickers at home: At most you'll need:

Printer

Sticker paper (this is the type that I use)

Laminator and lamination paper (the lamination paper that I use.) You can also use adhesive non-heat lamination paper if you don't have a laminator, gives you the same result, just be careful of bubbles. You will get double your worth out of a pack because we are splitting the pouches to cover two sticker sheets.

Your choice of a sticker cutting machine or just using scissors.

First, I use Cricut's software to print out the sticker sheet with the guidelines around the corners so the machine can read it. If you do NOT have a Cricut machine, open up your art program, make a canvas of 2550x3300 and fill it up with your sticker design with some cutting space between them. This the 8.5x11 size for the sticker page.

I usually have bleed selected so the cut comes out cleaner. Tip for non-Cricut users below: Increase the border around your sticker design to fake the 'bleed' effect for a cleaner cut.

These are the print settings I use for my printer. I use the 'use system dialogue' to make sure I can adjust the settings otherwise it prints out low quality by default. Make sure if you're using the above paper that you have 'matte' selected, and 'best quality' selected, these aren't usually selected by default.

So you have your sticker sheet printed! Next is the lamination part. I use a hot laminator that was gifted to me, but there is no-heat types of lamination you can peel and stick on yourself if that's not an option.

(This is for protection and makes the colors pop, but if you prefer your stickers matte, you can skip to the cutting process.)

Important for Cricut users or those planning to get a Cricut: You're going to cut the lamination page to cover the stickers while also not covering the guidelines in the corners. First, take your lamination page and lay it over the sheet, take marker/pen and mark were the edges of your stickers are, and cut off the excess:

(I save the scrap to use for smaller stickers or bonuses later on)

After you've cut out your lamination rectangle, separate the two layers and lay one down on your sticker sheet over your stickers with matte side down, shiny side up. (Save the other sheet for another sticker page)

The gloss of the lamination will prevent the machine from reading the guidelines, so be careful not to lay it over them. It also helps to cut the corners afterwards to prevent accidentally interfering with the guidelines.

Now put that bad boy in the laminator! (Or self seal if you are using non-heat adhesive lamination)

Congrats! You now have a laminated page full of stickers.

For non-cricut/folks cutting them out by hand: this is the part where you start going ham on the page with scisscors. Have fun~

Cutting machine: I put the page on a cutting mat and keep it aligned in the corner, and feed it into the machine. For laminated pages I go between 'cardstock' and 'poster board' so that it cuts all the way through without any issues, but for non-laminated pages or thinner pages, I stick for 'vinyl' and 'light card stock'. Kinda test around.

Now I smash that go button:

You have a sticker now!

The pros of making stickers at home is that you save some cost, and you have more control of your stock and how soon you can make new designs. (I can't really afford to factory produce my stickers anyway)

However, this can be a very time consuming, tedious process especially if you have to make a lot of them. There is also a LOT chance for some errors (misprints, miscuts, lamination bubbles, ect) that will leave you with B-grade or otherwise not-so-perfect or damaged stickers. (Little note, if you have page mess up in printing and can't be fed into the cricut machine, you can still laminate it and cut it out by hand too.)

I have to do a lot of sticker cutting by hand, so if you don't have a cricut don't stress too much about it. I have an entire drawer filled to the top of miscuts/misprints. I keep them because I don't want to be wasteful, so maybe one day they'll find another home. Sucks for my hand though.

But yeah! This is how I make my stickers at home! Hope this is helpful to anyone curious

[literalgrill]

Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

[misserabella]

ask nicely

bodyguard abby x str!pper reader

summary; your night was going good until some asshole tried touching you. abby stepped in to save you and took you to a safe place. what happens when you find yourselves alone in a private room?

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, sa (groping) coming from a man towards reader, abby kicks him out, tension, reader flirts, reader is in lingerie, abby being a gentlewoman, drinking (reader), lots of teasing, groping (coming from abby so we like it), making out, hair pulling, dom! abby and switch! reader, bratty reader, abby being an asshole, praising, begging, dirty talking, tit and nipple play (r receiving), use of good girl, choking, multiple orgasms implied, lots of teasing…

you were having a pretty good night. the club was full. your makeup looked gorgeous, your dancing routine had never came out better and the money kept flowing in steadily.

but of course something, or better said, someone had to come by and ruin it.

his hands are warm, and big on your hips, his breath smelled like alcohol as he leant on your face, trying to kiss you. “come on, sweetheart, just one little taste…” you were dodging his attempts, trying to move away, but he’s insistent and you’re getting tired of it.

lucky enough, a kind soul comes to your rescue, taking you out of the disgusting man’s grasp. you can’t help but sigh in relief when you see her. her 6ft tall height, her muscular arms dressed in a tight black muscle tee and his big thighs in a just as tight black pants… its making you salivate. her blonde hair is up on a braid, and there’s a scowl on her pretty features as her rough voice cuts the air.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

it makes you shiver. how she handles the man that easily, how she manhandles him and pulls him away from you as if he weighted nothing. your thighs clench at the thought of being under her touch and strong hands. would she be rough with you too? would she manhandle you like she had with the man? would she be soft, treat you kindly?

“kick this fucker out.” your mind was spiraling in thoughts as the other security member came at her order and took the man away to kick him out of the club, but she pulled you away from all of it with her voice, this time softer, worried.

“are you okay?” your eyes met her sky blue ones, and you swore you could melt. you fixed your lingerie set, somehow worried you’d be in disarray. you weren’t. you looked as perfect as ever under her glance. irresistible.

you nodded, afraid that if you spoke she’d understand the whine in your voice. how her protection affected you.

“come with me.” she offered, her warm hand on the low of your back to guide you to one of the private rooms where you took clients for private shows.

you found yourself walking slower than how you usually did to elongate the feeling of her touch on your skin, your hips swaying at her side.

you sighed when you heard the click of the door behind you, your hands making quick work of pouring yourself a drink.

“thank you. i needed some air.” you muttered to the woman, who nodded.

“i figured.” she gave you a soft smile.

“would you like some?” you inquired her, raising the bottle of bourbon.

“sorry. working.” she turned the offer down, and you grinned.

“responsible. cute.” something inside abby stirred at your comment, her cheeks reddening slightly under the dim lights. her eyes were everywhere but on your body, and you noticed.

you took a sip of your drink, sighing.

“my night was going so good… until that pig started bothering me.” you said. “but thanks to you… i don’t have to worry about no one touching me again, huh, abby?” you smirked, your voice low, sending shivers down her spine as your heels clacked towards her.

you’ve been observing her for a while, craving her for just as long. and you could tell she did as well. so what was stopping her? was she afraid she’ll break you? if so… why did you want it so badly?

“i wouldn’t let anybody touch you…” she swallowed, her eyes on yours, even when you stood practically naked on front of her. such good manners…

“good…” one of your manicured nails trailed down her chest, she took a step back, her back flush against the door, with no scape when you followed her. “‘cause i wouldn’t let anybody touch me except you.” you smiled, and her eyes widened, mouth falling ajar.

“except for me?” you hummed, your chest pressed against hers as you looked at her lips. if she didn’t want that she could easily deny you, push you away, but she wasn’t, and she wouldn’t.

“only you.”

your words seemed to shift something in her, ‘cause next thing you knew is that it was you the one being caged in between her strong body and the door, her lips hungrily ravishing yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. you moaned against her mouth, giving her the opportunity to push her tongue inside, tasting the bourbon out of your spit. your arms surrounded her neck, pulling her closer, her own on your hips, pressing you against her front.

“abby…” you sighed as her lips trailed down your neck, her teeth slightly biting your sensitive skin.

“you don’t know what you do to me…” she muttered. “always looking so perfect… so fucking beautiful. makes it difficult to hold back.” you smirked, pulling from her perfectly made braid and winning a groan.

“then don’t. i like you when you’re gentle with me. but i think i’ll like it more when you aren’t.” she bit down on her lip.

“fuck. you drive me crazy.” you smiled as her warm hands cupped your ass, hosting you up so you’d surround her hips, walking you towards the sofa or the room to plop down, pulling you down against her strong thighs.

you sigh, your hips waving against hers, making her grunt as she gropes at the meat of your ass, thrusting you harder against her body. you can see the way her muscles pop in her arms, feel how her thighs clench underneath you. and it only adds to the wetness that’s already soaking your lace thin panties. the fact that it was the only thing that kept her from touching you was driving you insane.

your hands came behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving it aside and biting your lips under her hungry gaze. you smirked, taking the back of her hand and pulling her towards your chest, moaning when she gave you what you wanted, her lips wrapping around your perky nipples, sucking and licking over the buds until spit left them shiny and her teeth, swollen and sensitive. as she played with you, one of her hands, —the one that didn’t play with your free breast— came down in between your legs, her expert fingers touching you from beneath your panties.

“you’re soaked.” she smirked as she noticed the slick mess you’d become by just a few kisses and touches. “someone needs it bad, huh?” you groaned.

“give me what i want.” you ordered as you tugged from her hair and she scoffed.

“manners.” she answered. “only good girls get what they want. if you want something you need to ask for it.” you whined.

“i want you to touch me.”

“but i’m touching you.” you moaned as her fingers squeezed your nipple.

“you know what i mean…”

“i still want to hear you say it.” she whispered and your hips rocked against her fingertips in seek of relief.

“i want your fingers. in my pussy.” you breathed against her lips. “is that clear enough for you?” you spat, and she chuckled, humming with that cocky smirk of hers that you’d absolutely despise if it didn’t turn you on so much.

“say please.” you groaned, looking down at her as daggers left your eyes. she was teasing you. pushing all your buttons to break you. and she did.

“please.” you gritted in between your teeth, and she pinched your nipple harder, making you whimper and your hips buck as she pressed up against your cunt with her hand, brushing your clit.

“be sweet about it.” you were pleading now.

“please abby, please. fuck me.”

“atta girl…” she praised in a low voice, and then she was pushing your panties aside and finally giving you what you wanted. a honey sweet moan left your lips when her fingers brushed your sensitive clit, drawing tight circles that left you shuddering.

she whistled due to how easily her fingers slipped in between your folds. “completely soaked for me, huh? so fucking pretty…” all breath left your lungs as two of her thick fingers plunged inside of you, stretching your walls and making a slick sound dive into the music that surrounded the two of you. “so tight…”

“fuck.” you groaned as she curled them, easily finding your g spot and making your back arch.

“right there, hm? look at you…” her free hand came up to surround your neck, keeping you in place. “so ready to take everything i give you, hm?” you nodded.

“yes… yes, please. anything…” you begged as she started to thrust in and out of you, your slick wetting her fingers and making white rings up her knuckles.

she chuckled. “so all i needed to do for you to behave was bury my fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, huh?” you whimpered when she curled them once again.

“shut up.” you stuttered and she laughed, curling her fingers faster and harder, making you moan and curse. “fuck, abby...”

“you sound so pretty like this, moaning my name. do it again.”

“abby, please, make me cum, please…” her thumb came up to your clit, and her grip on your throat tightened.

“you wanna cum? wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded. “then beg for it.”

“please…” you cried out, feeling the warmth on your lower stomach rising. you were so close… “please let me cum, please…” she hummed.

“such a good girl…” you whimpered at the praise, your walls clenching around her fingers. “go ahead angel, wanna see it drip.” with a few more curls of her dingers and circles on your swollen and sensitive clit, you fell apart, moans spilling from your lips as she helped you ride it, sucking at your nipples to extend it. “thaaat’s it. good fucking girl.”

it was not necessary to say that abby made you cum again, and again, and maybe a couple more times…

[nervoushottee]

With Want | Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader

Summary: Paul Atreides always had dreams. But from the very beginning, there was an invisible string pulling him to you.

Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Reader's secret name is Nuri, Set in Dune Part 2 , fingering, soulmate/destined pairing, shitty understanding of the Dune universe (only watched the first Dune move and only half of Dune part 2 whoopsie so I'm probably butchering some of the lore or whatever. Its fanfiction babes, I'm not writing this for accuracy),

Note: Hey hottees!! Y'all I'm not even finish watching Dune 2 and I started writing this. Timothee was doing something to me in this movieeee. Hope y'all enjoy!

*not edited at all babes*

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

Paul Atreides had dreams. Both enchanting and horrifying dreams that would eat away at his mind and soul. And from the very beginning, he had always felt this small pull of a feeling. 

It was weirder than his dreams because even when he woke, he still felt it. Like it was a small tether, a light string in his heart and soul that hummed so softly. A light that was so dim that you would have to squint to see. 

After everything that happened with his father and being forced out of his home. The Fremen people found him and his mother. And that feeling grew stronger. He thought it was about the sayings of what his mother, the Bene Gesserit, would tell him but it felt more than that. 

It was odd, he could never see what it was in his dreams, or hear whispers of it like a name. But it was always that same enchanting feeling. So when Paul followed the Fremens, it continued to grow. By the time they walked deeper into the caves, it went from a strong pull to an overwhelming presence. 

And that’s when he saw you. 

“Who is she?” Paul asks Chani. The young woman already knew who Paul was asking for before she turned her head. A small smile engulfs on her face. “Nuri.”

Nuri.

Paul repeats your name to understand the feeling on his tongue. He hadn’t seen you before. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t too sure. The Fremen people covered their faces from the desert and a lot from what he was learning.

‘She moves like the wind.’ Paul says to himself as he watches you glide through the crowded room. Paul’s eyes meet yours briefly. Yours blue from your sclera to your irises. You stop moving through the crowd to stare at him. 

That feeling buzzed around him, stronger than ever within Paul as his eyes never leaving  yours. Your lips slowly turn up into a smile. Your eyes move towards Chani who still stands next to him, nodding in acknowledgement. Chani repeats the same gesture with a smile on her face, your gaze lingers back on Paul before a group of people walk in front of Paul’s view of you. By the time the people separate. You were gone. And the feeling suddenly fades from a sharp intensity to a dull buzz. 

“You should be careful around her Outworlder.” Chani says to him in a low tone as the common area starts to get a bit busy with people. The two of them sit down on a blanket as other where for food. 

“Was she with the group when you found me and my mother?” Paul asks, dodging the statement his acquaintance gave him. 

Chani shakes her head, chewing her food before speaking, “No. She doesn’t come with us all the time.”That intrigued Paul. He turns himself fully towards Chani, his bowl of food mixed with spice long forgotten . “So is she not a fighter?” 

“She is.” Chani says between chews, ”But she also walks with the Sayyadina.”

The Sayyadina. The Fremen’s Reverend Mother. 

“From what I’ve been told, her family was killed just after she was born. Stilgar took it upon himself to look after her. As she grew, the Sayyadina felt something within her. So Stilgar gave them the authority to let her walk with them. She is truly a great fighter, so when we need good fighters she will come with us when necessary. If not, she stays.” Chani continues. 

“A fighter and one that walks with the Sayyadina? Is that possible?” Paul questions. 

“To a nonbeliever? No. But to those who do? Yes. Stilgar believes in the old ways and in the faith. The Lisan al Gaib.” She says to him in a taunting tone which causes Paul to avert his eyes. The moment they came in, some shouted hatred towards him and his mother but others screamed in rejoice, calling him The Lisan al Gaib.

“Our people follow behind him, he is a good leader and his judgment is almost always right and trustworthy.” Chani finishes. 

Paul sits with the information he tells her, his hands slowly dipping in his bowl to start eating the food that was cold to touch but warm against his tongue. The heat of the spice warms his insides as it goes down his throat. “And what about you? What do you believe?”

”I don’t believe that you’re the Lisan al Gaib, that's for sure.” She chuckles. Paul feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but urges her to continue. “I believe in our people. And she is a part of our people. And if she plays some part in whatever faith stories then so be it. But she has never faltered in training. She has never failed in the dessert and she is a good friend. She believes in our people as much as I do.”

After the words Chani said, Paul felt that she was over talking about you, more hungry and interested in the spice beneath her fingers. So Paul didn’t ask anymore. He ate his food in silence but his mind was racing with the thoughts of you. 

—— —— —— ——

The day had turned into night. Stilgar showed him and his mother the small room for them to sleep in for the time being until their fate was decided. A lot of them didn’t trust him and his mother, and for that Paul understood. 

His dreams woke him in the late night. Lifting his head from the makeshift pillow, he looks over to his mother who is still sound asleep. Her hand was placed on her lower stomach. 

‘Rest easy sister, I will be back.’ He says in his head before getting up and quietly leaving the room.

The caves are quiet at night. Besides from the guards that linger within the open spaces to protect those who rest. Paul doesn’t think it’s necessary but he avoids walking around where they are. Just in case to not stir any trouble. The people were calm at the moment since their fates were going to be decided soon enough. 

He walks to the small body of water his mother had told him about. The scared waters of the Fremens. The waters they would never touch. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the stilllness in the air and the calm look of the water. It reminded him of home. “I miss you father. I will take care of mother and sister.” He says to himself quietly. 

He wants to cry but reminds himself to save his water. “Don’t waste your tears on the dead” from what Stilgar told his mother. 

Paul sat still for a moment longer before he felt that pull again. That invisible string strong and tight as it pulls him to his feet. He absentmindedly walks into a dimly let hallway, his pulse quickening against his neck. His heat beating erratically against his chest as he turns the corner to see you. “You’re Nuri.” Paul states.

“You shouldn’t be out at night Paul Atriedes.” You say to him, your back towards him but he can hear the teasing smile within your words.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Paul explains to you simply, “And I made sure to walk where the guards can not see me.” The feeling nearly suffocates him as he walks toward you. 

“Ah.” You turn towards him, you’re dressed in almost the same comfortable linens as him. His a tan brown color and yours an off white. “You and your dreams.”

How did you know about that? He questions in his head, unconsciously taking another step towards you. You both now at arms length.

“I see you in my dreams.” Paul lies. 

“Do you?” You ask back, your tone sounds as if you know he’s lying. 

“No but I can feel you. In my dreams and out. And I don’t know what it is or what it means.” He explains. 

You hum in satisfaction as you slowly walk around him. Like a beast or a predator trapping its prey. “And what do you feel now?” 

He feels like his body is vibrating, His skin tingling and his veins jumping. His fingers buzzing as if he wants to reach out and touch you. He does what to touch you, he wants to feel your skin on his. “What do you feel?” Paul asks the question back to you.

You stop walking to stand behind him. The hairs on his neck stick out as he feels your body heat near him. Your lips slowly grazing his ear making his eyes flutter close. 

What the hell is happening to him?

“I feel like the spice on my tongue. I feel like the sand beneath my feet. I feel like the beauty you see in your dreams. I can feel you.” You whisper against him. 

Paul turns around to you, your bodies closer than ever. His lips inches towards yours as his flickers between your eyes and your lips. 

“You speak in tongues.” Paul whispers to you desperately.

“Shall I tell you in a way you understand?” You whisper against his lips. 

“Yes please.” he begs softly. 

And you don’t hesitate to put your lips on his. Paul moving quickly as his hands clasp softly against your cheeks. Moaning in the delight as he feels your hands glide against his chest, gripping his shirt. 

He feels you everywhere, but it isn’t overwhelming anymore. Now that he’s holding you and tasting you, your tongue glides against his. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him as his body and soul settle into the feeling of you. 

So warm and inviting. So enticing and serene. 

You push him towards a dark hidden spot in the hallway. Your bodies are engulfed in darkness but when you break apart for air, you can see him all the same. Paul moves you toward the wall, his body trapping you in as he kisses your neck. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Paul Atreides. I’ve seen you in my dreams, felt you lingering in my mind, heart and soul.” You say to him breathly. Moaning quietly as you feel his tongue glide against your neck. Your guide his hand to touch your breast, causing Paul to move away from your neck and look into your eyes. 

‘So beautiful.’ Paul thought. He brings his other hand on your cheek and kisses you hungrily. Squeezing your breast, feeling the weight of it in the palm of his hand.His hand glides to let your nipple slip in between his fingers as he squeezes.“I want to dream of you. I want to see you in my dreams, want to hear your voice call my name.” he mutters to you in between kisses.

When you break away from his kiss, Paul starts to ask what’s wrong until he feels your hand on his and glides it up to your lips. You kiss his fingers individually as he stares at you in adoration and desire. You slowly slip his middle and ring finger into your mouth causing Paul to groan. His hips shifting upwards against you as he feels the wetness of your warm tongue glide against his fingers. He watches as you pull his fingers out of your mouth, his digits glistening wet. Your hands glide his now wet ones down and underneath your linen pants.

“Touch me and you will see me.” 

He lets his hand glide against you as is greeted by your wetness, causing you both to moan out in pleasure. You are sinking deeper into the wall and Paul sinking deeper into you. His fingers continue to glide there experimentally as you pull him back for a kiss. “Help me see.” Paul mutters desperately against you

. 

Your hands reach down in your lines to move his hand into the position you need for him to make you feel good. You mimic a small circular rotation with your fingers on the back of his hand that was still against you. Once Paul understands, he begins to move his fingers in the motion you instructed, making you moan against his lips. 

He pulls away to watch you. You looked more ethereal than any other being or spirit that was believed in all of Arrakis. Your head back against the mountain wall, your lips slightly open as you moan. Your hips moving against his fingers as if you’re chasing for pressure. Paul dips his head in the corner of your neck and kisses it feverishly as he applies more pressure in his movements. Causing you to hold on to shoulder and call out his name. Oh how he wanted you to say his name again.

Feeling a little confident he glides his fingers down, but keeps his them pressed against your swollen bud. He pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to gasp. You hold onto his shoulder gripping his shirt as you breathe heavily. You drag his head from your neck to kiss him. With his finger going in and out of you at an agonizing slow pace, you kiss him sloppily. But Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he enjoys it. Humming against you with a smile. 

When you feel his ring finger follow in for a second is when you lose it. “Paul!” you say loudly. 

His tongue mingles with yours as he silences your cries. With the slow circling of his thumb against your clit and the way he pushes his fingers into you makes you clench against him. “Fuck.” he moans. 

You whine as you feel your orgasm growing inside of you. The feeling you both shared with one another makes you feel even more on edge as you grip Paul in anyway you can. You rapidly as you feel yourself getting close. “Pau-Paul -” you begin to tell him as such but the building pleasure doesn’t get you far. Paul places his other hand against your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed. You feel his thumb brush against your bottom lip. 

“Let me see you.” 

His words are the final push that sends you over the edge. Paul kissing you to silence your cries, you mewling against his lips as his fingers never stop their learned rhythm. You shiver against his fingers, your body tingly and warm. He kisses your face from your cheeks, to your eyelids and everywhere in between as he waits for you to come down from your high. He whispers your name, making you flutter your eyes open to see Paul stare at you with want. 

“Show me again.”

[reiderwriter]

So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 

“Do you… need a haircut?” 

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 

“Well, are you coming in?” 

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 

“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 

“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 

And he hadn't paid. 

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 

“With haircuts?” 

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 

“But what kind of haircut?” 

“What kind?” 

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 

“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 

“Hi.” 

“Spencer! You're back.” 

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 

“The hospital?” 

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 

[ja3yun]

pour it | p.sh

bartender!sunghoon x bartender!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, cum plugging, choking, slight nipple play, pls never fuck your co-workers (saying from experience), mentions of alcohol ofc, not proof read, anything else lmk!

w.c: 3.5k

REQ: Imagine Sunghoon and you are bartenders for a club and all shifts you guys are always stealing glances at eachother or having lingering touches while you make drinks one day u need to go get more supplies from the back and the tension is so thick he can’t take it anymore and takes you on the boxes of supplies with messy alcohol pouring sex

a/n: hi! it's me and my inability to write a small drabble and turning it into a semi-fic. hope you don't mind, anonnie! i had a lot of fun with this but as someone who used to bartend during uni, you can imagine the flashbacks going through my mind (i also spilt the keg on me like this so, personal experience and some aj lore for you). hope you enjoy!

The club is alive with the throbbing beat of the latest hits, a kaleidoscope of coloured lights dancing over the crowd packed tightly onto the dance floor. The air is thick with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable tang of alcohol. Behind the bar, it's a different world, a fast-paced rhythm of cocktail shakers, clinking glasses, and the endless chatter of patrons.

You’re in your element, expertly mixing drinks, the repetitive motions are almost second nature by now. But tonight, there's an added layer of tension simmering beneath the surface. Sunghoon, your coworker, has been brushing past you intentionally for the nth time tonight.

The bar is small, and with Freshers Friday in full swing, it’s a given that there’s going to be constant cross-overs between staff, clambering for ice and lemon wedges. But does he have to hold your waist as he passes, fingers lingering just a moment too long, or reach behind you for a glass when there are plenty on his end? Each touch sends a spark of electricity through your body, your pulse quickening despite your best efforts to ignore it.

You steal a glance at Sunghoon. He’s busy pouring a drink, his jaw set in concentration, but there’s a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing. His dark eyes flick to yours for the briefest moment, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks. You turn away quickly, focusing on the drink order in front of you.

The club's atmosphere is a mix of chaos and thrill. Neon lights flicker and pulse in time with the music, casting a surreal glow over the sea of bodies moving in sync. The bass reverberates through the floor, through your bones, creating an almost tangible sense of energy.

“Excuse me,” Sunghoon’s voice is low, just above a whisper, as he leans in to reach for a bottle of vodka on the shelf behind you. His chest brushes against your back, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. You grit your teeth, trying to focus on the cocktail you’re mixing, but it’s no use. Every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence.

“Do you mind?” you snap, but your voice lacks the bite you intended. It comes out breathy, more of a plea than a command.

Sunghoon chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Sorry, Y/N. It’s just so crowded back here.” His hand trails down your arm as he pulls away, and you shudder involuntarily.

You know he’s teasing you, pushing boundaries, testing your reactions. And damn it, it’s working. You can feel the tension between you two building, a palpable thing that hangs in the air, thick and heavy.

It’s been like this since he started working here a few months ago. Training him up was harder than anticipated, not because he wasn’t good at it or couldn’t follow instructions, but because it took everything in your willpower not to pounce on him. Once, you showed him how to make the bar’s signature Long Island Iced Tea. While he was pouring the Triple Sec into the mixer, the veins on his arms and hands strained, the muscles flexing with each precise movement. It was the moment you realized you had a hand kink.

Nothing could stop your imagination since then, constantly thinking about his hands on your throat, the way they would feel gripping you, controlling you. Every time he reached past you or brushed against you, those thoughts flared to life, vivid and consuming.

The club is a frenzy of movement and sound, but all you can focus on is Sunghoon. He’s making his way back to your end of the bar, and you can feel your heart rate spike in anticipation. He stops beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat emanating from his body.

“Need help with that?” he asks, his voice smooth and teasing, as he reaches for a wine glass on the rack above your head. His arm brushes against you, and the contact sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve got it,” you reply, but your voice betrays you, coming out softer, almost breathless. He smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. He is nothing if not cocky and you do nothing but fuel it.

“Sure you do,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. His fingers trail lightly across your waist as he steps back, a fleeting touch that leaves you craving more. His cologne isn’t helping either, the dark musk of Sauvage engulfing your nostrils and filtering its way straight to your core.

You bite your lip, trying to regain your composure, but it’s no use. Your mind is racing, filled with images of his hands on you, the way they would feel exploring your body, holding you down. You can’t stop thinking about the power he seems to have over you, how easily he can make you lose focus.

Your manager comes up behind you both, pointing between you. “I need you both to change the Guinness keg. A whole team of Celtic fans just came in and they’ll bleed us dry in a minute,” he explains.

He doesn’t know that the innocent, very much part of your job request makes your heart stop for a moment. The charged energy between you and Sunghoon is so strong tonight that being alone with him, even for a second, could lead to losing all your inhibitions. You don’t mind fucking your co-workers, god knows you’ve had your fair share of fun with Jay and Heeseung in the past, but this feels different.

As soon as Sunghoon bites those teeth into you, figuratively and physically, you have a sneaking suspicion that there is no going back.

“I can handle it myself,” you say quickly, trying to avoid the inevitable. “It’s only a one-person job.”

But Sunghoon is already stepping forward, his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the stockroom. “Come on, Y/N. It’ll go faster with two,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument, waving the manager off.

His touch is subtle but it feels heavy, and you curse inwardly at how easily he affects you. You let him lead you through the throng of staff, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. This is bad, very bad.

As you enter the dimly lit back room, the noise of the club fades slightly, leaving the sound of your and Sunghoon’s footsteps and breaths as the only chorus to the quiet song of the corridor. The corridor always gives you the creeps, the lime-green walls and chipped floor make you feel sick, sicker than you already are.

It’s not even that big of a deal, so what are you panicking for? Just go in, change the keg, and get back to serving duties. Plain and simple, easy as pie.

But as you reach the keg room, your hands are trembling slightly. You push open the door and step inside, the cold air hitting you like a slap. The room is filled with the metallic scent of beer and the cool hum of the refrigeration system. Sunghoon steps in behind you, the door closing with a soft thud.

He moves to grab a keg from the stack in the corner, and you can’t help but watch, mesmerized by the way his muscles ripple under his white t-shirt. The fabric clings to him, highlighting every contour, every flex. His biceps bulge as he lifts the heavy keg effortlessly, and you swallow hard, feeling a fresh wave of heat course through you.

Focus, you scold yourself. You turn to the valve, reaching up to shut it off. Your fingers fumble slightly, the cold metal biting into your skin. You can’t stop glancing at Sunghoon, at the way his forearms strain, veins standing out in sharp relief. It’s distracting, and you’re not paying enough attention to what you’re doing.

You step forward to disconnect the old keg, but you don’t leave enough time for the pipe to empty. As you twist the connector, there’s a sudden, forceful spray of beer, catching you off guard. You yelp, trying to dodge the spray, but it’s too late.

Sunghoon is at your side in an instant, his hands covering yours as he twists the valve shut. But not before both of you are thoroughly soaked. The cold beer soaks through your clothes, making you shiver.

“Damn it,” you mutter, looking down at the mess. Your shirt clings to you, and you can feel the liquid dripping from your hair. You glance up at Sunghoon, and despite the situation, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of him drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead.

“Nice going,” he says with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You always this clumsy?”

“I usually know what I’m doing,” you retort, but there’s no heat in your words. You’re too distracted by the way his wet shirt clings to his body, outlining every muscle and defined bump of his toned stomach. 

Sunghoon steps closer, his eyes dark and intense. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low with a hint of seduction, the rasp in his voice turning you dizzy.

“Yeah, just...wet,” you reply, shivering slightly. The cold beer and the cool air of the keg room are a stark contrast to the heat building between you two. You probably should have chosen a better sentence to utter into existence, knowing how it could be taken.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. “You know, this wasn’t exactly how I imagined getting you wet,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Your breath catches at his words, and you know you should leave it at that, laugh it off, and walk away. But with his close proximity and his breath fanning your face, you’re almost under his spell. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, tinged with curiosity and something darker.

Sunghoon steps forward, and you instinctively step back, making your back press against the cold wall of the keg room. He eyes you up and down, licking his lips as though he was a lion hunting his prey. “You know what I mean, Y/N.”

The beat of your heart skips, and you nod, agreeing. You aren’t stupid, you’re just horny.

Leaning down to ghost his lips over yours, his eyes grow hungry as they hood over, boring into yours intensely. “I want to bend you over and fuck you so hard you can’t remember your own name,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. “I want to make you gasp for air, to hear you scream my name until your throat is raw. I want to leave marks all over your body so everyone knows what I did to you.”

You're quivering now, and every syllable sends a zap of electricity into you. His hand moves down your arm, fingertips brushing your skin and leaving a path of fire in its wake.

“I really thought I was going to lose it up there and bend you over the bar and fuck you in front of all those punters,” he continues, his lips so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath. H

A whimper escapes your lips, unbidden, and his eyes widen in surprise and delight. “Oh? You like it when others watch? You want me to drag you up there and give everyone a show?” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement and arousal.

You shake your head in a daze, lust taking over because all you can breathe in is his presence. “No...not there.”  Exhibitionism isn’t really up there in your list of kinks, not really for your own dignity, you couldn’t care less about who sees you naked or fucked out, but you hate the idea of anyone seeing Sunghoon and getting ideas.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion you thought you possessed until he started at the bar. The other bartenders flirting with him in the breakroom or customers asking for his number over the bar quaked your heart a little, injecting a tiny speck of green into your bloodstream. You might have been apprehensive to start anything with Sunghoon, but that doesn’t mean others get a chance to shoot their shot.

“Oh? So what I’m hearing is you do want me to fuck you?” he presses, his voice a husky whisper. His cockiness is showing once again, tongue roaming over his sharp canine lazily as his eyes drink you in.

“Yes,” you breathe out, unable to hold back any longer. The need in your voice is unmistakable, and it only seems to fuel his desire.

Rolling his eyes in relief, he undoes your apron from the front and lets it fall to the floor. “Finally,” he mutters, his demeanour switching from teasing to something darker, more intense. In a flash, he has your black trousers unbuttoned and fully off your body, your panties following, leaving you bare with only your soaked white work t-shirt covering you.

He grabs your waist and hoists you up against the wall, your legs wrapping around his hips instinctively. With one hand, he reaches and undoes the button of his own trousers, shimmying them down slightly and whipping out his cock.

As it springs to attention, you feel it graze your folds, so close to where you desperately need it. The heat and hardness of him against your wetness make you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Sunghoon smirks, positioning himself right at your entrance. “You’ve been driving me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his breath brushing against your skin. “Watching you, wanting you...you kept me waiting too fucking long.”

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I need you.”

His eyes darken with lust at your plea, and without another word, he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden fullness makes you cry out, your head falling back against the wall. He’s big, stretching you in ways that have your toes curling. You can feel every inch of him, thick and pulsing, as he fills you completely. It’s overwhelming, the way he pushes your walls apart, making you see colours you didn’t know existed.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growls, starting to move. His pace is relentless, each thrust hard and deep, driving you up the wall with every stroke. Your moans mix with his grunts, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the small room. You’re thankful that the room is isolated in the middle of the basement or else you’re convinced everyone upstairs could hear you.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he pounds into you. You can feel the power and control in his movements, the way he takes what he wants, and it drives you wild. “You like this, don’t you?” he pants, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and erratic. “You like being taken so hard you forget everything else?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper against the overwhelming stimulation. “Yes, Sunghoon, don’t stop.”

You bring one of his hands up to your throat, a silent plea for him to fulfil your fantasy. His eyes widen for a moment, and then a dark smile spreads across his face. “You want it?” he asks, his voice a dangerous whisper. “You want me to choke you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please.”

Sunghoon’s grip tightens around your throat, the pressure just enough to make your head spin, adding a delicious haze to your already overwhelming pleasure. Each of his thrusts feels like a shockwave of ecstasy, stretching you and filling you in ways that make your entire body tingle with need. His cock throbs inside you, the thick, hard length gliding in and out with a relentless rhythm.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growls, his voice a guttural mix of pleasure and dominance. His free hand slides up your body, brushing over your sensitive skin, and his fingers tease at your nipples through the soaked fabric of your t-shirt, making you grateful that you wore a mesh bra today rather than your usual beat-up t-shirt. The contact sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core, heightening the sensations.

Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him to stay against the wall, leaving marks that make him hiss and drive his thrusts even harder. Every push, every pull, feels like it’s unravelling you completely. The pressure around your throat makes your breathing shallow, and the world outside this small room seems to blur into insignificance. All that exists is the raw, primal connection between you and Sunghoon.

Clamping your walls down on him, you mewl out as the tip of his cock reaches a depth no other man has been able to reach, kissing your cervix with intimacy and urgency as you suck him in with each clench of your core.

Hissing, Sunghoon’s head burrows into your neck, his palm now pressed against your jugular in a beautifully punishing manner. “Fuck, Y/N, your cunt is so greedy for it.”

The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and your moans become more desperate, more pleading. You arch your back, pushing yourself further onto him, needing him deeper, harder. “Sunghoon, I’m so close,” you whimper, your voice breaking with the intensity.

He responds with a fierce, primal growl, increasing the pace of his thrusts. Each movement is forceful, almost punishing, but it’s exactly what you need. “Cum,” he commands, his voice rough and demanding. “I want to feel you cream all over me.”

With that final command, the pressure around your throat and the relentless pounding of his cock push you over the edge. Your body trembles violently, and you cry out his name as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. Your orgasm is all-encompassing, a dizzying mix of pleasure and release that leaves you gasping for breath, clinging to him.

Sunghoon’s own release follows almost immediately, his body tensing as he buries himself deep inside you, groaning your name with a raw intensity. His cock pulses with each spurt, filling you completely. The heat of his climax mixes with the remnants of your orgasm, creating a deliciously overwhelming sensation.

He holds you tightly, his breath ragged against your neck, as both of you ride out the aftershocks of your climaxes. Slowly, he eases his grip on your throat and pulls back slightly, his eyes still dark with desire but now softened with a trace of concern.

Sunghoon’s gaze softens as he looks at you, his breath still coming in short, ragged bursts. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, his touch tender against your flushed skin. “You okay?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur, filled with concern and dissipating lust.

You nod, a satisfied smile on your lips despite the trembling of your voice. “More than okay,” you breathe out, your body still trembling from the intensity of the climax.

Sunghoon’s eyes hold a mix of tenderness and desire. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The contrast between the gentleness of the kiss and the fierceness of what had just transpired sends a shiver through you. “Good,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and soothing. “Because we’re far from done.”

He slowly lowers you to the ground, his hands steady and careful. As he kneels before you, a look of wonder crosses your face, mixed with a lingering haze of desire. His fingers, still slick with your combined release, gently part your folds, teasing and exploring.

You gasp as his fingers find their way to your sensitive entrance, carefully stuffing his dripping cum back into you. The sensation is both intense and oddly comforting, a reminder of the connection you’ve shared. Your breath hitches as you feel the warmth and slickness inside you.

“Sunghoon-” you start, but his gaze, both commanding and affectionate, cuts you off.

“Keep that there until our shift is over,” he instructs, his voice firm but laced with an underlying promise of more. “I don’t want a drop of it out of you.”

His words send a fresh thrill through you, a combination of pleasure and anticipation. “When we clock out, you’re coming back to mine, end of story,” he continues, his tone brooking no argument.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and eagerness. “Okay,” you manage to say, your voice steadying despite the rush of emotions.

“Great,” he smiles innocently, as if he didn’t just fuck you so good you thought you saw Jesus marking you off the gates VIP list. “Now help me with this keg.”

_____

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazz

[osalotte]

Biological Sleep Aide! (Laios x reader)

aka the sub virgin laios blowjob fic that i have spent an atrocious amount of time on...

MINORS DNI

WC: 5.9k

CONTENTS: NSFW, laios being a d1 yapper, blowjobs, sub laios, inexperienced + virgin laios, a few moments of insecure laios, CANON COMPLIANT SOFT TUMMY LAIOS!!!, party member readr with an unspecified class, gn reader with experience, reader's genitalia not described, soft dom reader, sex with so so many feelings, soft intimacy, pining, lots of setup/plot, gratuitous foreplay, nipple play, visceral imagery of giving head, explicit consent, laios is so down bad it’s embarrassing, semi-ambiguous ending

if this gets enough attention i'll publish a sequel <3

You weren’t quite sure what woke you up; perhaps a sound from down the hall, or a change in the temperature of the air, or Senshi’s foghorn snoring. Either way, you fluttered your eyes awake, blinking at the crumbling gray stone of the dungeon’s ceiling.

You pulled yourself up from your bedroll, sighing but being careful to not make any noise. You let your eyes adjust to the low light and the faint glow of the magic fire Marcille had set up before you went to bed. Internally, you did a head count, and it seemed that everyone was deep in slumber. Senshi, Marcille, Chilchuck….

Your breath caught, eyes stopping at the sight of Laois’ empty bedroll. It was mussed, so he had definitely settled in earlier, but the man himself was nowhere in sight.

You cocked your head, leaning against your hand in thought. Should you be worried? No, he was probably just gone to use the bathroom. It’d be kind of weird if you walked in on him mid-piss. And if that did happen, you couldn’t decide whether Laios would be mortified beyond comprehension or concerningly underwhelmed.

The corners of your mouth quirked up as you thought about the group’s sweet—if not a bit odd—leader.

Okay. I’ll wait a few more minutes, and if he isn’t back, I’ll take a walk around, you decided. The last thing you’d want is to have Laios in some sort of trouble with no one to help out.

So, you sat there and waited, growing more awake by the minute. Still no Laios. 

After what seemed like a reasonable amount of time, you pulled yourself up from your bedroll and crept past your sleeping party members, careful to not disturb them. You peeked into a few of the empty rooms near where you’d set up camp—nothing. It wasn’t until you got to the cavern with the underground pond that you found him.

Laios’ back was to you, his form barely illuminated by the blue glow of the water. He was bereft of his heavy plated armor, clothed only in his threadbear linen sleepwear. You couldn’t see his face, but he was eerily still as he sat cross-legged on the edge of the pool, and you just knew he was staring into it with his mind a million miles away. For such a large man, when he was all curled up like that, he looked remarkably small.

“Couldn’t sleep, eh?”

He startled and whipped around at your words, but immediately relaxed upon seeing it was you. His eyes wandered back to the water, but he didn’t turn away from you. 

“Yeah. I guess you could say that,” he murmured.

You took a step forward. “Mind if I join you?”

“...Please.”

You eased yourself down to sit down right next to him as you now both faced the pond. Your eyes were on him, and his eyes were still on the water and far, far away. His irises were usually a pretty, soft honey yellow (which you definitely didn’t think about every time you made eye contact), but his pupils were blown wide with the low light, and the only color you could see was tinted turquoise by the underground pond’s light. 

You gently nudged his shoulder with your own, which seemed to pull him back to reality for a second. 

“How long have you been up?” You asked.

He tilted his head in thought. “Probably like… an hour? By now, at least.”

“An hour?” Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “Jeez, if Senshi finds out our fearless leader isn’t getting his proper rest, you’ll be the next meal.”

Laios snorted and cracked a smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes.

You leaned in even further to him. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Promise.”

“Thanks.”

You sat there like that for a moment, in comfortable silence before you spoke up again: “What’s on your mind?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. A lot of stuff, I guess. Falin, mostly. But then there’s, y’know, everything else, what we’re gonna do moving forward….” He shook his head and curled in on himself. “I want to lead us to success, but sometimes it’s just…”

“A lot?” You finished his sentence where he trailed off, and he nodded. 

“Yeah. Pretty much.” 

“Well,” you leaned back, “I, for one, think you’re doing a wonderful job. We didn’t exactly get dealt a winning hand. You’re doing great with what you have.”

He seemed to genuinely smile at your words, and his eyes went soft. “Thanks. That…. Really does mean a lot. Coming from you, especially.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Any fool could cast a few spells and throw a few knives. I’m nothing special.”

“That’s not true!” He blurted out. He seemed surprised by his own outburst, and reeled himself back in. “I mean, you’re, like, super cool. And powerful! You have all of these different skills combined into one, like… Like a basilisk! But, like, a nice one that doesn’t try to kill us.”

You snorted. “Wow, and here I thought I was at least manticore level.”

“That too! Really, any chimera-type monster could apply…,” he began rambling on about the different types of chimeras and how they mix their various abilities together, and you just sat and listened, smiling softly. After he had winded himself from his monster-talk, the two of you fell back into a comfortable silence.

“Feeling sleepy yet?” You asked.

Laios shrugged, laying his chin on his hands. “No more than I was an hour ago.”

You chewed your bottom lip, furrowing your brows in thought. Should you say this? “Well…,” you started. “Y’know what always helps me get to sleep after a stressful day?”

He perked up, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “What?”

“An orgasm.”

Laios blinked at you. Once. Twice. Then his face went beet red and he whipped his head around to avoid eye contact with you, choking on air. You barked out a laugh.

“What? I’m being serious,” you continued between giggles. “Orgasms are clinically proven to help you sleep better.”

You couldn’t see his face from him being turned away, but the tips of his ears were bright red. “Well, yeah, I guess that makes sense, but…”

“C’mon,” you crooned. “We’re both adults here, Laios. There’s no shame. Be honest, when was the last time you masturbated?”

He thought for a moment, scratching his head. He still wouldn’t look at you. “Um… Probably back I was on the surface…?”

“A whole week ago?” 

“No, before that,” he corrected. “The trip from three- no, four weeks ago. Or was it before that….”

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head. “Over a month?”

He shrugged sheepishly. At this point, he had at least turned back around to face you, but he still had trouble meeting your gaze. “Well, with everything going on I’ve been pretty busy. Any time I get a break, I’m just so tired or hungry it doesn’t even cross my mind. And it’s not like I can sneak away or anything.”

“You haven’t even tried?” You pressed. He shook his head. “Wow. You must be pretty pent up, then.”

He simply shrugged again, fidgeting with a pebble he’d picked up somewhere and looking anywhere but you. “I-I mean, it’s not really a big deal…”

“Y’know, masturbation is a form of self care,” you said. “It’s healthy. Helps maintain your hormones, bodily functions, and releases stress. For someone so big on keeping your body healthy, I’m surprised you’ve gone this long.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. He risked a glance at you before quickly dropping his eyes to his hands once more. “It’s…. actually pretty cool how knowledgeable you are about all of this.”

“Oh, trust me, I know my stuff.” You shot him a wink, and you could’ve sworn you heard him gulp. Before you could stop yourself, the words came out; “I could help you if you’d like.”

He froze, looking at you with wide, unblinking eyes. “...Huh?”

Welp, in for a penny, in for a pound. “You know, like, give you a hand,” you explained. “Or mouth. Whichever you’d prefer, really.”

He took a moment to process your words, but when he did, he went back to blushing cherry red. “Y-you mean, like….”

“Give you an orgasm,” you said. “I mean, only if you’d want to. If you don’t, just say the word, and we can forget I even asked.” 

You paused, waiting for him to follow up with a “no,” but he just sat in silence, eyes trained on the pond and ears practically steaming.

“Or,” you continued carefully, “you could say yes, in which case I’d be happy to help. More than, even.”

“Really?” He asked, and you nodded. 

“Once again, it’s all up to you,” you reassured. “Just thought I’d offer.”

Finally, he looked you in the eye, almost like he was searching for something. “Why?”

You opened your mouth to answer, then closed it again. Why were you offering?

“It’s like a favor from a friend,” you decided. “You need to get to sleep, I want to take your pants off… A win-win, really.”

He buried his face in his hands, shrinking in on himself like a hermit crab into its shell. He mumbled something, but you couldn’t understand it, so you asked him to repeat himself.

“....Y-yeah. I, um, want to,” he squeaked. “I-I mean, if you want to-”

“I literally just offered.”

He swallowed. “Right. Um. Yes.” He looked around the room, still determined to not make eye contact with you. It was silent for a moment. “Uh...How should we…?”

“Go into a different room, probably,” you said, standing up. “This one’s pretty echoey. A little too conspicuous.”

He stood up as well, and you could’ve sworn you saw a tremor in his legs. “Oh. Yeah. Probably.”

You tilted your head towards the door. “Here, come with me.”

You took him to one of the side rooms you’d poked in earlier. No windows, one door that locks…. Perfect. You took his hand, gently tugging him into the room and closing the door behind you. You muttered a quick incantation under your breath, and a few dimly glowing orbs of light appeared above you. Not enough to light up the room, but enough so that you could at least see your hand in front of your face.

Laios fidgeted where he stood. “Where should I….?”

“You could sit on that chest over there. Wait, actually I’d prefer you on the ground,”  you said. “Better for my knees. Too bad we don’t have pillows… But, you could probably lean against those burlap sacks in that corner there. ”

He nodded excitedly, but didn’t move. You tilted your head at him. He seemed to realize himself, and hurriedly trotted over to sit in the corner with the burlap sacks. You followed eagerly on his trail, chuckling under your breath.

“Sorry,” he fumbled, clearly trembling as he sat himself down. “I’ve, uh, never done this before.”

You snorted, sitting down in front of him. “What, never gotten a blowjob in a dungeon? I hear it’s all the rage these days.”

He offered a wobbly smile and a chuckle. “No, like, um… I haven’t done…” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, trailing off.

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

“Like, anything like this.”

You blinked at him, confused by his words, but then froze as it clicked in your head.

“You’re a virgin?” You blurted out, much louder than you intended to and you smacked your hands over your mouth. Laios looked like a deer in headlights, unsure if he should be mortified or not. You quickly recovered. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it. Um, how old are you, again?”

“26,” he said. He tilted his head at you like a puppy, eyes big and innocent. “Why? Is that weird?”

“No, no, of course not,” you reassured. “Just, um… Do you still want to do this? You can back out. I won’t be offended.”

“I-I want to.” He sat up straight and responded so quickly he almost tripped on his words. “I do. If you’re still okay with it.”

You took a deep breath before giving him a soft smile. “Yes. I definitely am.”

“Oh, that’s good… I didn’t want it to be weird if- oomf!” You pushed him against the burlap sacks, caging him in with your body as you moved to straddle his lap. Your face got very close to his face very fast and Laios was not expecting it. Then again, he certainly wasn’t complaining. He looked up at you, eyes wide and cheeks red. 

“You ever kissed anyone before?” You asked, sultry voice just above a murmur, searching in his eyes. 

“Uh… Y-yeah,” he said. He kept making eye contact, then looking away. “Only, like, twice, though.”

Oh, so we were really starting from scratch, you thought to yourself, saying nothing. You saw him grow a little anxious at your lack of immediate response and quickly followed up, “That’s alright. I was just curious.”

“Y-yeah, it was like-” your hands slithered up his neck to tenderly cup his jaw, “-two years ago, or something-” you leaned in, lips just inches away from his, “-and, um….”

He trailed off with a shaky exhale of air that you felt against your lips, and you took that as your cue to go in.

You kissed him, and he immediately froze up, not knowing what to do. When your lips started moving, he was clumsy, painfully out of sync. He really hadn’t done this before. After a few seconds of testing the waters, you pulled away, but not too far. He leaned his head in a bit, as if trying to follow you.

He blinked slowly, eyes so blown out that his iris was little more than a thin ring around black pupils. “What are you doing…?”

“Kissing you,” you stated. “Y’know, like, foreplay.” He tilted his head and gave you a quizzical look, so you elaborated, “It’s kind of like a sex warm-up….? Y’know, to get you going so you don’t have to jump right in.”

“Oh. Yeah. I-I guess that makes sense….”

You grinned at him before diving in to steal another kiss. You made this one sensual, gratuitous, trying to guide his lips into a comfortable rhythm with yours. You felt his large body go slack against yours, melting into the kiss. You had one hand on the back of his head and the other on his big, warm chest, and it was painfully obvious he had no clue what to do with his arms.

“Here,” you giggled against his lips, and guided his hands to a comfortable spot. One on your side, just below your chest, and the other on your ass. “You can touch me.”

“O-okay,” he squeaked. 

You kissed him for a third time, this time with a little more fervor. You slipped your tongue in here and there, experimenting and seeing what he’d do with it. He gave your butt a tentative squeeze, and you grinned against his lips. With every movement, Laios seemed to loosen up; becoming more comfortable, even eager.

He pressed his mouth hard into you—a bit too hard, teeth clanking together—and you had to tug him back with your hands gripping tight at the hair on the back of his neck and he gasped. You didn’t let up, giving a few more soft kisses as an apology before pulling away once more.

“Wow,” he whispered, eyes half open and lips still parted, grinning in a stunned sort of bliss. “You’re really good at this.”

You shrugged. “Call it experience, I guess.”

“Mm….,” he hummed, only half-hearing your words. Laios’ eyes trailed down to your lips, beginning to lean in once more. You obliged and gave him a small peck on the lips before pulling away. He made a sound of confusion before you moved to the corner of his lips, then his cheek, then his jaw, then finally began kissing his neck.

“Oh. Oh wow,” he breathed shakily, big hands floating up to grip into your sides and hips as if to keep himself grounded. You couldn’t see him, but you could imagine his expression to be one of shocked, open-mouthed delight. 

You mouthed your way up to the spot below his ear, sucking what you hoped would end up to be dark purple hickeys the next morning. He tasted like sweat and skin and you relished in every bite.

“Hah….,” he moaned, more breath than actual voice, holding onto you for dear life. You nibbled at his earlobe and he tensed before a full-on shudder wracked his body. He instinctively pulled you in tight against him with his strong arms, like he wanted to be as close to you as physically possible. He was exceptionally sensitive—not necessarily surprising, given his inexperience, but either way it sent a little thrill of anticipation up your spine.

You’d been feeling his growing arousal under you, but at this point it was poking against your inner thigh from your position straddling him. You pressed into it slightly and he yelped, flinching into you.

“That’s-“ he gave a sharp inhale followed by a shaking moan as you bit down into the thick cord of muscle that leads to his shoulder, simultaneously grinding harder against the tent in his pants. He jolted in surprise, but it was followed closely by a shiver of pleasure as he squeezed his legs together. “-that feels—ngh—really good.”

You pulled away. He was panting fully now, just as hot and worked up as he got after an intense bout of combat. But unlike the heat of battle, this scene was softer, more gentle, malleable, intimate. He looked utterly blissed out, huffing and puffing with red cheeks and unfocused eyes, and you hadn’t taken off a single layer of clothing. You could see the twitching bulge in his pants, a small wet spot appearing at its peak. You fought back a grin. So excitable.

Your hands trailed along the collar of his linen shirt, fiddling with the strings. “Can we take this off?”

He blinked at you, taking a moment to process your words, but he snapped to attention once he realized what you meant.

“Oh- Oh! Um, yeah, of course. Let me just….” He reached up to untie his laces, and you scooted back on his legs to allow him room to pull his shirt up and over his head, leaving his upper half completely bare. 

You’d already had a pretty good idea of his physique given that his thin shirt did little to hide it, but he was a glorious sight to behold now. His large frame littered with scars, his huge muscles bulging out but not necessarily chiseled as they lay under a healthy layer of fat, the slight squish of his tummy that spilled a little over his waistband, and golden chest hair trailing all the way down into his pants.

You must’ve been staring a bit too long, because Laios shifted and moved to cross his arms over his chest, self-conscious.

“Uh, am I- Is this okay…?” He gulped. 

“Oh god, sorry, yes,” you rushed to get the words out. “It’s just- you’re, like, gorgeous. Got distracted.”

If he hadn’t been completely red in the face already, you were sure he would have blushed to infinity. He curled in on himself.

“I usually don’t care how I look that much, but…” he murmured. “It’s weird. I don’t know why I feel so…. shy.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” you said, reaching up to tenderly sweep his hair back before sliding down to cup his face. “You can put it back on, if you want. But I am certainly enjoying the view.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Thanks…. You’re- you also look really, um, good…”

“Here, I’ll join you,” you said. You made quick work of pulling your shirt over your head and you heard Laios gasp. 

“Wow,” he whispered as his eyes raked up and down your body in wonder.

“Could I have this?” You tugged at the shirt he still held in his hand, and he willingly gave it to you, still starstruck by your half-naked form. “Lean forward a bit here.”

Obedient as a dog, he followed your instructions and leaned into you, not thinking twice. His skin felt hot and a little damp against yours, his face pressed against your shoulder. You reached around him to fluff the shirt out flat a little bit before tucking it between his back and the burlap sacks as a makeshift blanket.

“Should be a little more comfortable,” you said, tucking in the edges so it wouldn’t slip too much. “Don’t wanna scratch up your back. Yet, at least.”

Completely oblivious to your innuendo, he was looking at you as if you’d hung all the stars in the sky. “You really know what you’re doing, huh?”

You shrugged. “Don’t think too much about it, ‘kay? I just want you to be comfortable.”

You pushed back on his shoulder slightly and, obedient as ever, he laid back down against the now-covered burlap sacks. His arms had slipped down to lay at his sides. He stared at you, eagerly awaiting your next instruction.

You ran your hands down his neck and across his chest, nails raking through the wiry hair and over his nipples, tenderly admiring his build. His muscles twitched with each brush of your fingers, hands creeping up to grip your thighs. 

You leaned forward, diving in to leave open-mouthed kisses on his neck and down his chest. He shivered and gripped your thighs tighter. You paused once you reached his sternum and looked up at him.

“Do you like having your nipples played with?” 

He froze at your question. “Um, I-I’m not really sure.”

Virgin. Right, you reminded yourself internally.

“Well,” you continued, “let me know if this feels good, okay? It’s not for everyone, but they have a lot of nerve endings, and can be big erogenous zones for some people.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of tha- eep!” He tensed up like he was struck with a live wire as you closed your mouth around his nipple. He bit back a groan as you swirled your tongue around, sucking softly. His cock jumped, and you could feel the wetness from his tip seeping through his pants as it brushed against your bare stomach.

“I—ah—didn’t even know you could do this,” he stuttered, hands having since moved their vice-grips to your upper back as you continued to lavish his chest in attention, moving to the other nipple. “I- I mean biologically it makes s—hah—sense since in mammals, the chest a-and specifically nipples are considered a secondary s—hn—sexual organ…”

“But does it feel good?” you asked, slightly muffled as you switched between speaking and sucking on his chest. 

“I- I think so—!“ His voice cut off with a sharp gasp as you suddenly sank in your teeth around his nipple before sucking hard and rolling the little bud in your mouth. “It’s- it’s kinda weird but—hah—kinda good….?”

You pulled off of his chest with a wet pop and grinned up at him devilishly. “Enjoying yourself, Laios?”

“Yeah,” he panted. His eyes were half-lidded, mouth parted as he caught his breath, flushed all the way to his ears. He somehow looked worked up to the point of combustion but soft and innocent at the same time. “This is….. Wow. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything.” You were sure you couldn’t hide how pleased you were with yourself, looking like the cat who got the cream. His eyes were so full of wonder, and you couldn’t help but pull yourself back up to kiss him silly, repositioning yourself so that one of your legs was slotted in between his.

You pressed your body hard into his, and his arms snaked around your waist, a single big hand going down to shyly squeeze your butt. You giggled and brought up your finger to trace tight little circles around his nipples, still slippery with saliva, and he shuddered and gasped against you. 

You pulled your thigh forward to press hard against his cock, twitching and leaky as it begged to be released from its confines. The tortured sound Laios let out against your lips made you want to devour him whole. 

“You’re doing so well, Laios,” you whispered in between kisses. He whined and his cock jumped excitedly. Interesting. “So, so good for me.” You pressed your thigh down harder-

“Wait—ngh!—wait stop-“ he yelped. You immediately halted your actions, pulling away, but Laios pulled you right back into him, refusing to let you move away.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You asked, gently stroking his arms, suddenly very concerned. 

He was shivering violently, and pressed even harder into you. “Nothing,” he gasped, struggling to form words. “I just- I thought I was gonna cum….”

You grinned devilishly, a new light in your eye. You pressed your thigh into his raging hard-on once again and he keened, burying his face into your neck.

“Wait! Be careful, I-I can feel it….,” his words tapered off into a broken cry, open-mouthed against your shoulder. Mercifully, you let up, and Laios let out a shaky sigh of relief. 

“Let’s move on to the main event, shall we?” You cooed, worming your way out of his hold so you could lower yourself onto the ground.

He looked confused for a moment, as if he’d forgotten you’d planned on sucking him off in the first place, but then his eyes widened and he choked on air. “Oh- Yeah. Yes.” He gulped “Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you purred. You kissed your way down his torso, his curly chest hair tickling your nose as you went. You reached his pants, pressing a messy kiss on his tummy just above his waistband. He shuddered. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands—trembling as they were—awkwardly holding them above his lap. 

You looked up at him, his shivering form and nervous expression, droplets of sweat beading at his forehead despite the chill of the dungeon. He was so close already, and honestly, with how pent up he was, you were surprised he managed to hold back from creaming his pants. 

You unfortunately had to look away from his flushed face as you undid the laces of his trousers and pulled out his swollen cock. He was hard and hot and thick in your hands. In terms of penises you’d seen, he was uncut, untrimmed, and exceptionally average, yet you were salivating all the same. The flushed head was shiny smeared with its own precum, and it bobbed up under your gaze. 

Laios’ eyes squeezed shut and he tilted his head back with a choked groan, like just the sight of your face so close to his cock would make him cum. 

You wrapped your hand firm around the middle and gave him an experimental pump. You were mesmerized as you watched the foreskin bunch up over the head, a single bead of white pearling and dribbling out, before pulling and stretching back down to reveal his cock in all of its weeping glory.

You couldn’t help but dive right in.

You closed your warm mouth over the head of his cock, licking the creamy, salty pleasure from his tip and swallowing it hungrily. Laios yelped and his thighs squeezed around your head. You popped your mouth off of him to lick a long stripe from base to tip, flattening your tongue, before suckling on the tip once more.

“So…. warm….,” Laios mumbled. 

You let a fat glob of spit drip down from your mouth, using the tight ring of your hands to deftly spread it down his shaft. You pumped him once, twice, and Laios’ jaw dropped in a silent gasp. 

“Nice, isn’t it?” you murmured before pressing a sloppy kiss to his tip. Laios’ mouth tried to form words, but all that came out was a gasp followed by a throaty groan as he pitched forward. His hands found their way to your hair—not so much pushing you down as it was giving himself something to hold onto. 

You let go of his dick so that, with both hands, you could ease him back down, untense his muscles and loosen his hands from your hair.

“It’s alright, baby, I’ve got you,” you cooed. “It’s okay. Just relax. You’re doing so well.”

He whimpered but nodded, screwing his eyes shut. Once he’d relaxed again, your hand gently found its way back to his cock, soon followed by your mouth.

You were slow, careful not to overwhelm him, swallowing him halfway with a hand wrapped firm around his base before pulling back up, lapping at his tip. 

“Wow. Oh wow,” he whispered, letting out breathy little 'hah's. “This is…. Wow.”

Laios was whimpering, trying his best to stay still, but with every bob of your head his thighs twitched and his body tensed. 

“No wonder succubi—ngh—are so successful in—h-hah—in dungeons- ack—!” His voice broke as you swallowed around him. “This is—hn—really… r-really good. Lonely male adventurers w-would make the perfect prey—!” The last part of his sentence pitched up as you began swirling your tongue around the tip.

You took him deeper. You felt the hot, salty weight of him bump the back of your throat. He cried out, hips jumping up and hands scrambling to hold onto something. You didn’t let up, taking him deeper, swallowing around his length as you blinked and let the tears spill from your eyes. Your throat may have a bruise the next morning, but the sounds that Laios made would be well worth it. 

“Oh god. Oh—oh I’m close,” he moaned, desperate. “‘M gonna—hah—gonna cum…”

You simply sped up, sucking him with a newfound fervor, and he moaned so loud you could hear the echo bounce around the room. One of his hands kept brushing over yours, so you obliged, lacing your fingers with his own. He took it greedily, thankful to be holding your hand and squeezing tight as you swallowed him.

“Oh- oh! It’s— I’m cumming, oh fuck, I’m cumming—ngh—-!” His moans tapered off into a high-pitched whine as he came in your mouth, hot saltiness flooding all of your senses as you swallowed what you could. He was cumming a lot—bursting into your mouth like a broken pipe—so much so that it quickly overflowed and came dribbling out from the corners. You pulled off of him, cum dripping down your chin and spilling onto your hand. 

Meanwhile, Laios was still in the middle of a mind-blowing orgasm, jolts of pleasure shooting through him as he gasped and moaned. You stroked him, languid and slow, through the rest of it, squeezing his hand in assurance. By the time the cum had stopped seeping out of him, he was shaking like a leaf and had a white-knuckle grip on your hand. He began to whimper in pain at the overstimulation, so you let up, watching his softening cock lay itself down, twitching, into a splatter of cum on his thigh.

Laios was breathing hard. Eyes closed, he hadn’t let go of your hand. You just rested your cheek on his clean (as in, the one with less cum on it) thigh, looking up at him as he eased his way out of orgasmic daze. 

“So,” he murmured after a moment of silence, voice trembling. “That’s what I’ve been missing out on all this time.”

“Pretty much,” you hummed, drawing mindless circles on his hips with your thumb, never taking your eyes off of him.

“Wow.” He stared off into space for a second before blinking back into focus. “No wonder lust makes people crazy. It’s almost…. Cathartic?”

“Relaxing, too,” you said, pressing a feather light kiss into the softness of his thigh. “Feel better?”

He nodded. “Very. Honestly, I could fall asleep right now. I don’t even want to get up. Is that a normal post-coital reaction?”

You bit back a giggle. “Yes. But this in particular was pretty intense.” You began the process of slowly separating yourself from Laios, peeling your body off of the ground. “You came a lot. Is it usually this much? It’s not bad or anything, there’s just… so much.”

“Not usually, no,” he shrugged sheepishly, looking down at the mess on his legs. “Probably from being ‘pent-up,’ like you said.” 

“Guess this means you should take better care of your biological urges, hm?” You tenderly cupped his face and he hummed, leaning into your hand to press a kiss to your palm. You subtly wiped your other hand on your discarded shirt so that you could bring it up to run your fingers through his close-cropped hair.

“That was… amazing,” he whispered, eyes fluttering shut under your caress. “It felt so nice.” He swallowed, then hesitantly looked up to you, eyes big and round and adoring. “...Thank you.”

You couldn’t handle the way he was looking at you, so instead you kissed him. He was all but boneless against you, sweet and melting like ice cream on a hot summer’s day. 

You pulled away. It was a second before either of you spoke, eyes closed, foreheads pressed together, breathing in the other’s exhales. 

“We should probably get back,” you said after a moment, pressing one final, fleeting kiss to his lips before standing up.

“Y-yeah. Probably.” He looked down at the mess all over his thighs and stomach. “Um… what should I….?”

You muttered an incantation under your breath and with a flick of your wrist, the mess disappeared from him completely. You did the same for yourself. 

“Thank the gods for prestidigitation,” you chuckled. You began to redress yourself, Laios not far behind. 

Once you were both decent, you made your way to the door, unlocking it and expecting Laios to follow you. You glanced over your shoulder only to see that Laios was standing in the same spot, the laces of his shirt still untied. 

“So, are we lovers now?”

You froze, blood pumping as your heart leapt into your throat. Even for Laios, the question felt like it came out of left field. He had his head tilted at you like a curious dog, unashamed and eager and genuine.

“Like, in the books,” he explained. “This kind of thing is what lovers do, right?”

“Well- I….” You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of being his partner—being giggly and enamored with each other. But cold fear gripped your heart when you thought about the possibility of something going wrong, of you messing it up and losing him completely. “...I guess….? Kind of? Do you…. Want to be?”

He walked up to you and grabbed your hand, eyes never leaving yours. “I want to be lovers.”

“How about….. friends…… that are also sometimes lovers?” you suggested, trying to not let your voice shake too badly. You cringed inwardly at your words, since you wanted nothing more than to scream ‘Yes!’ 

“Does that mean we can keep doing stuff like this?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. “How about we discuss this more tomorrow, yeah? You need to get some sleep.”

This answer seemed to satisfy him, as he grinned wide at you, tugging you out the door and towards camp where, hopefully, no one realized you were missing.

Meanwhile, back at camp....

Chilchuck was covering both of his ears with his pillow, silently seething. Bile rose in his throat with every other sound he could hear ever-so-faintly echo through the dungeon corridor. He did not expect to wake up to the sounds of stupid Laios in the thralls of pleasure—with you, no less!—and he was very much not happy about it.

"Fucking kids...," he muttered, grinding his teeth together as he tried to muffle the sounds as best he can. "Fucking half-foot hearing.... I hate it here."

~~~

tags: @hohoshiumi @this-gave-pidgeon-further-shock @smokycoco @eggsnasty @justformio234 @rosesandquartzz @zeniiis @childaintit @goddessofpoledancing @dark-space-between-the-stars

please comment + reblog so i have a justification for writing more laios fics instead of actual productive tasks <3

[jarofstyles]

Flower

Hello… here is another mini series I started even tho I have other things I definitely need to finish…. But I’m kinda obsessed with them so I hope you guys like them 🫢

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 2 and 180+ exclusive writings!

WC- 2.8k

Warnings- y/n being oblivious, stupidly sweet h, things alluding to masturbation

“Y’know that isn’t normal for him, right?” Gia murmured as she came up next to Y/N. The low light of the bar had her squinting slightly, but thankfully the rock music wasn’t blaring too loud over the speakers over here. Coming after work, she had looked forward to meeting up with her friends for some much needed socialization- even if she was exhausted.

Confusion painted her features, looking at her friend with furrowed brows. “What are you talking about?” 

“Harry. He’s like, all over you. All the time” She looked over to the man  with a smirk, who had previously excused himself to participate in this round of pool. Y/N wasn’t much for the game so she stayed back in their seats, taking a moment to decompress. Or, try to. Sometimes it got a bit overwhelming with so many people talking at once.

“He’s just touchy, isn’t he?” Y/N had only known Harry for a few months, moving here to teach and one of her coworkers so kindly helped integrate Y/N  into her friend group. Harry owned a contracting business, actually, and Y/N had been getting lots of help from him on a variety of projects. Specifically, the latest project regarding his expertise in what sort of bannister she should have for the staircase. It was antique, and she didn’t want to be like those flippers she saw online who ruined the charm of old houses. If she wanted a brand new build, she would have bought one. “See?” 

Harry had his arm around Mitch, laughing about something probably a little dumb. The man was borderline tipsy but he’d just started his water rounds. He seemed to be an affectionate person, cuddly. At least to her and Mitch and Niall, all of whom seemed used to it. 

“Yeah, but not with women. He’s more reserved when it comes to them but not with you. Like… what was that before?” Her cheeks flushed slightly as dhe knew exactly when her friend was talking about. Harry had come back from the bar with their soft pretzel and another drink for her, and when he sat down she was promptly dragged into his lap. She’d let out a yelp but it turned into a laugh, settling in his thighs. Of course there was no admitting that her stomach had erupted in butterflies and she felt them kick up every time he rested his chin on her or squeezed her a little tighter to him. That the scent of his cologne had become something that grounded her anxiety in the moment, and it was weird how he seemed to be an anchor for her every time he pulled something like that. Somehow he just had that sort of effect on her.

Now that she mentioned it, she had noticed Sarah’s eyes widening when he did that, but she had assumed it was just for the pure audacity of a man manhandling a woman into his lap and ripping off a piece of cheese dipped pretzel and bringing it to her mouth. 

Y/N knew Harry was a cuddle bug. He was needy, like a pup, nosing and pawing his way into peoples hearts. But she assumed he did this sort of stuff with everyone. Maybe she wasn’t paying enough attention, but she had been too nervous to allow herself to think of his touches as flirtation. It would bring down the wall she’d tried to set there to not get her hopes up and look too deep into things. It had gotten her heart bruised a few times already. “Oh.” She replied, looking at her slowly emptying glass. “I, um, didn’t really think about that. He’s been pretty handsy for a long time.” He was also a flirt. Said things on purpose to make her flustered, but only in her ear so she’d get even more worked up. That was something he really liked to do- whisper in her ear or close to her to share something only with her. 

“Babes, you need to open your eyes. That man is completely gone for you. Smitten kitten. I was convinced you guys were secretly banging but I was trying to mind my business… but you mentioned a dating site earlier and I got confused.” She’d wholeheartedly thought they were already an item. “You need to talk to him or make a move or something. He’s all but pissed on you to claim you from the rest of the group, and he keeps looking over here to check on you. He acts like your boyfriend already, but there are more benefits you can cash in on if you just go for it.” She wiggled her brows making Y/N groan, hiding her head in her hands. 

She was way too sober for this conversation. 

Of course she had interest in Harry. Some feelings, even, but he’d never expressed interest in dating anyone. How could she not? He was almost unreal, checking loads of boxes she had in her mental list of ‘what my dream man would have’, including the dimple thing. The fact that he always said he was “waiting for the right one to find me”  when she’d ask floated back into her mind, clearing a bit of the fog that usually surrounded her when she thought about him. Had he been trying to tell her something?

Y/N could admit she wasn’t the most perceptive at times. She was a little oblivious, some could say, and didn’t read into signs well. The trait was something that used to get her into trouble when she was younger, her head always off in the clouds instead of where it needed to be according to the adults around her. It was possible she missed something, but she wanted to find out how to rectify that. 

“Speak of the devil…” Gia whispered, moving over a bit with a snicker as Harry seamlessly slipped back into the booth and ran his hand over her hair. Y/N felt his presence like a blanket, face turning to look at him and his concerned features. That little wrinkle between his brow she always noticed when he was upset or focusing heavily on something.

“Hi, petal. Something wrong? Headache?” He asked delicately in case the answer was yes. She got migraines frequently, as much as it sucked- but Harry had brought her some pain relievers while she was at work once to save her ass. God, her head was a mess but it wasn’t from the migraine this time around.

“No, I’m okay.” She lifted her head, feeling his hand slide under her hair to hold the back of her neck. Hopefully he wouldn’t see the chills settling on her skin as his thumb rubbed over the side of her throat, concern still etched on his features. “Was just a bit dehydrated but I’m fine now.” Her smile must not have been as convincing as she tried, his lips pursing as he shook his head. 

“Got t’be careful with eating the salty chips and then having the drinks… one glass isn’t gonna be enough.” He sighed. “Stay here for me, yeah? I’ll be right back, let me get you some water.” Without thinking he leaned in and pressed a peck to her temple, sliding back out of the booth leaving the spot tingling. Sitting there with rapidly blinking eyes, she watched the stretch of muscles flex under his tee shirt as he made his way towards the bar to order said water.

Okay. Yeah. Now that she mentioned it, she definitely knew he didn’t press little kisses to the rest of the girl’s heads, or give that amount of attention to her but… again, she had tried to ignore it. Tried not to get her hopes up.

“Girl… you’ve got to see it now.” Gia’s brows were raised up. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” 

Maybe she was right. 

——

“I’m okay, H. I promise.” Y/N laughed out the words as he brought the straw back to her mouth and gave her a look. “Fine. But I’m gonna have t’piss soon if you keep force feeding water down my throat.” She shook her head as she took another drink, making a show of swallowing it. “See? Done.” 

Harry’s eyes had dipped down to her throat when she swallowed and back up to her mouth, taking a beat too long to respond. “Good. You… we can’t have you feeling poorly tomorrow. Are y’still up for it?” His hand was traveling around her body. Not in a sexual way, not really, but over her shoulders. Rubbing her arm. Cupping the back of her neck. Fiddling with her hair. For the first time, Y/N could consciously see what Gia was talking about. Maybe it was sad she needed someone else’s validation of it first, but now that she had it she didn’t feel as crazy for the emotions she felt. 

“Of course.” Harry was taking her to a sick used bookstore that he had helped remodel a few years back. When he found out she had gotten back into a reading mood lately, he’d suggested it immediately over text under the table, which now that she was thinking about it…. It was obviously to ensure it would be just the two of them. No one else.  He wanted to take her by herself, a little outing for just the two of them.

Stupid butterflies kicked in overdrive. “I’ve been dying to grab some new books.”

“I know. I remembered it when the owner called me a few days back about something and knew I had t’take you.” He grinned, leaning in a bit as he tucked the hair behind her ear. “I really hope you’ll like it.”

Y/N didn’t have much time to respond before the chatter got louder and the group that had gone back up to the bar for more drink ambled back and climbed into the booth. This time it wasn’t as much of a shock when she was scooped up into his lap, but it still made her hot under the skin. Her tummy swirled as he wrapped one solid arm around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, the other running over her thigh. It wasn’t suggestive, closer to her knee as he began to rub his thumb over the soft skin there. 

For some reason it was getting to her, making her worked up. The gentle touches, the wholesome nature of it made her feel a bit ashamed as she felt herself throb between her thighs, but it only got worse when he adjusted her in his lap, lifting her like it was nothing. Of course he had strength, the man hauled lumber by himself and did all sorts of superhuman shit when it came to construction, but it still shocked her every time she got to experience it first hand.

Taking a moment to think about it, it was always apparent that he was a beautiful man with a beautiful body. One thing that she really liked were his arms. Just as a whole. Hands, arms, how they’d built out a bit from all the hands on work. His hands could be a little rough with some callouses from those tools, but her grandma always did tell her that was the sign of a hard working man. It wasn’t something she focused on before because she had tried to deny the possibility of not only rejection but not being able to be in the friend group if things went sour..  At the moment she was past that. 

She could see the vein in his arm just a bit, near the anchor tattoo. His hand curled over her knee, almost possessively. This entire position was him claiming her. Realizing now he’d never pulled any of the other girls as close as he did her made her head spin. Hell, he really didn’t do much than give a friendly hug or hand to help them if they were stumbling. Fuck, he could actually feel something for her. Far past friendship.

“You’re quiet.” His words were so close they almost vibrated in her ear, making her startle a bit. “Shit, sorry Petal. Didn’t mean to scare you.” The little smile given to her made its way into her bloodstream, heating her up the longer he looked at her. “Why are you in your head, hm? Tired?” 

The way he spoke to her was so tender and sweet… gah! Now that she was allowing the possibility to be a thought, it was shaking her up. 

“Yeah, getting tired.” She wasn’t lying.  Her Friday classes had been a handful. That was the truth. “Need to take a long shower and sleep until an hour before you come to pick me up.” 

“Sounds like a good plan. What kind of soap or shampoo do you use?” He asked, a noticeable shift in his voice. A little deeper, softer for her ears only. It was intimate, she realized. How he spoke to her privately with her tucked in his lap. Her body melted further into him, but the lump in her throat had expanded from the realization. “You always smell fuckin’ amazing.” His nose skimmed over the side of her jaw making her exhale shakily. He was taking an inhale of her as he hugged her body against him. Her poor vibrator was in for it when she got home. 

“Uh- it’s like a coconut citrus mix?” She had to think about it. It was hard to focus on anything with her revelations at hand and the man of the hour touching her so liberally. Like she was his to touch. It wasn’t disrespectful and she knew he was the first person to read her body language- hell, he probably could read her mind better than she could process her own thoughts. But it was still sinking in, the feelings gripping her stomach. “Thank you. I try my best. No one wants to be stinky.” Nose crinkling in disgust, she felt him shake his head against her. 

“Trust me when I say you’re the best smelling person I’ve met. Wouldn’t complain if all my things smelled like you.” Oh? He didn’t elaborate, but there was a barely there kiss to the hinge of her jaw rendering her speechless. His reaction was to place his chin back on her shoulder, interjecting into Niall’s rant while Y/N sat there trying to process what that was. 

Deciding to test something made her really nervous, but she wanted to see what he’d do. While he was always the affectionate one and she never pushed him away, she didn’t usually return it as much. He always sought her out and she reciprocated but she wasn’t one to initiate a lot… so she wanted to see what he’d do. 

Letting out a yawn, she leaned her head against his shoulder and let her head nuzzle into his neck. Without saying a word, her hand went for his on her thigh and weaved their fingers together, pulling it further up her thigh. Holding his hand, she could feel his body stiffen ever so slightly for a mere moment and his heart rate pick up. His other arm around her tightened, thumb rubbing the back of her hand. “Comfy?” He mumbled to her.

“Mhm.” She nodded, letting his hand squeeze hers. He was just solid and sturdy. She could lean against him and feel protected in a way. Why she hadn’t tried this sooner she didn’t know, but she could hear his mood get better as he spoke. It was palpable, like he was vibrating a little bit, squeezing her hand every once in a while to remind her he was there. Or maybe it was for his own mind? 

It continued like this for a bit until everyone decided to get going, Harry being the last to stand. He was gentle about helping her off his lap, beating her to get on his feet and offered his hand to her to help her up. “C’mon, sleepy Flower. Time for your shower and sleep. Can’t have you too tired for the selection of books, hm?”  His hand steady on the small of her back, he led her to the car with a bit of a delay as they said good, a hug tight and lifting her off the ground a bit as he did so before having her promise to text when she got home. 

She fulfilled the promise, as well as her guilty vibrator session thinking about that tiny kiss on her skin and his hand on her knee, hoping that would make her chill out. It didn’t. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) VI

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alexia tries to talk to you

TW: discussions of eating disorder

It's reminiscent of that night all those years ago when Alexia came home and was shoved against her own wall by her sister.

It's funny how history repeats itself.

Alexia, back to the wall and unable to understand why and Alba, absolutely furious, being the one to hold her there.

"Alba?" Olga shrieks, standing up from her spot on the sofa.

Alba had one of the spare keys but usually, she didn't use it. Today she had though, bursting through the door like a woman on a mission and shoving Alexia up against the wall.

Jaume never saw the first time but he's heard about it. He couldn't have lived so long in this family without finding out about what happened when he was a baby. But, still, this is the first time he's seen Tia Alba angry at Mami and he watches with wide eyes from the top of the stairs.

"She's skin and bones!" Tia Alba hisses," I watched her today! She could barely stand up!"

"I know."

"And she...Wait, what?"

"I know, Alba." Alexia is calm even though her sister still has a tight grip on her shoulders, pinning her to the wall. "We know. We're trying to work out how to help."

Alba lets go of her, stepping away. "You know?"

Alexia nods. "We know. We're just trying to work out how. She always finishes dinner."

Guilt settles low in Jaume's gut as Mami, Mama and Tia Alba start discussing your eating habits.

You'd always been a bit peckish. You were never much of a big eater.

Jaume was the opposite. He was a growing boy. He ate a lot, especially on days with football training. He hadn't thought much of you offering your food to him, grateful that he wouldn't have to rifle through the fridge when Mami and Mama left the kitchen.

The topic of dinner comes up again and Jaume lingers on the bottom step, threading his fingers together anxiously.

"She..."

The three women fall silent as he steps into the light.

"What is it, Jaume?" Olga asks.

"Mama," He says, throat bobbing and tears welling in his eyes," I didn't...She never...I didn't know, Mama."

"Didn't know what? What is it?"

"Bambi...I..."

Alexia has always been his idol. She's a legend at Barcelona, captain of the club, captain of the country. Her trophies seemed endless and so did her awards. She was a World Cup winner. One of the greatest to ever play the game.

He wanted to be like her.

Her approval meant everything to him.

"Jaume," Alexia says," What is it? About Bambi? Tell us."

"I've been eating her dinner," He admits," When you and Mama turn your backs. She gives it to me."

Tia Alba noisily blows out air, hands cradling her head and Jaume can see the heartbreak on absolutely everyone's faces.

"Thank you for telling us," Alexia says," You're a good boy, Jaume."

Jaume's throat still feels tight though and guilt still swirls in his belly. "Is she...Is she going to be okay?"

No one answers.

It's a delicate situation to work around.

Alba drops hints during your weekly lunch. Olga keeps an eye on your snack breaks after school. Alexia tries to heap more food onto your plate.

You don't notice anything wrong though, apart from the fact that Jaume is suddenly not hungry anymore. He doesn't want your leftovers.

Alexia's the one to confront you, slipping into your room as you finish up some homework.

"Hey," She says.

"Hey." You finish off your last sentence before spinning around in your chair. "What's up?"

Your room has changed since you were little.

Most of your train tracks and little sets are packed away in the attic but your favourite models still litter your shelves. Your bed has gotten bigger and the bookshelf that used to be covered in children's stories is now full of textbooks and little dancing knickknacks like dead pointe shoes or worn-through ballet flats.

A desk has been moved in for you to complete your school work and your closet is now full of clothes you wanted to buy rather than what Alexia used to want you in.

Gone is the little girl with full, round baby cheeks and in her place is a teenager who's lost weight at an alarming rate.

Alexia can hardly believe it.

"I bought us ice cream."

She waves the tub teasingly at you and you pull a face.

"Sorry, Mami," You say," But I'm not hungry right now."

You spin your chair back to your desk.

Alexia spins it back.

You huff.

"Even just a little bit?" She asks," I can't finish this all by myself."

"Jaume's always hungry. Eat with him."

Something prickles down your spine.

Mami is acting weird like she knows something about you that you don't want her to know.

You stare across at her from the bank of a river. You're on one side. She's on the other. The river rushes between you, a gaping chasm that's getting more and more dangerous as it splashes at the banks.

"I can't eat with you?"

She's pushing now and you snap.

"Why does it matter? I'm not hungry! Drop it!"

Alexia's façade drops as well.

"You've not been eating," She says bluntly.

The water laps more furiously at the banks of the river, rushing towards to a waterfall. Alexia looks at you from across the bank. You stare back at her unblinking.

"Yes..." You say, frozen in place," Yes, I have. What are you talking about?"

"Are you an athlete?"

"What?"

"Do you consider yourself an athlete?"

You scoff, standing up. Your stomach swirls as blood rushes to your head. You feel a little woozy and light-headed but you force your way through it.

"Is this your way of saying that dance isn't active enough for you? Yes! Yes, I consider myself an athlete."

"Then why aren't you fuelling yourself like one?"

Alexia's being gentle about this, trying to coax you out of the corner you've found yourself trapped in. She should have been more subtle though, she realises with a jolt, because you're seconds away from bolting.

She reaches out for you across the bank, a simple hand.

You want to take it. You want her to throw a rope across for you. Something for you to hold and clutch as you swim over to her, to safety.

But you just can't.

Safety means questions and you don't want to answer her questions. You're sure she'll hate you for what she unearths. You're sure she'll look at you and not see her daughter looking back.

If you can't be perfect for her, if you can't be perfect for yourself then you're not worth anything to her.

Jaume has common interests with Mami. He plays football like she did. He plays well like she did. He's going to be world-class like she was.

You have little in common with Alexia but it doesn't make her love you any less. She adores you. She'd drop everything to make sure you're alright.

She doesn't care if you're not perfect. She doesn't care if you decide to quit ballet altogether. She just wants you to be alright.

But you just don't believe that.

You need perfection in yourself. You assume Alexia needs perfection from you as well.

She's staring across the bank from you, arm still out.

You reach for it but the river has gotten more aggressive. The mud on the bank is slippery.

You go straight in.

You try to inflate your lungs but all you can do is breathe in icy cold water as you're battered against the rocks.

You look at Alexia, still holding a tub of ice cream.

She looks at you.

You bolt.

Out of your room. Down the stairs. Out the door and down the street.

Alexia would run after you but she knows. She knows you so well. You'll just run from her and you're much fitter than she is right now. You'd get away quickly.

If she lets you go now then she'll at least know where you're going.

If she runs after you then you could go anywhere.

You're scared. Alexia has scared you.

It's a difficult conversation to have so Alexia lets you run. You need time to calm down, to prepare for this.

She's not happy. She can't be happy when you are starving yourself for reasons still unknown but she can be content with her decision to let you go for now.

You'll have run to somewhere you feel safe.

Alexia can be content.

Or, she's content for a few hours until she gets that call.

"Is this Alexia Putellas?"

"Yes?"

"Hi, I'm just calling because you're put down at y/n's emergency contact? I'm afraid she's passed out in one of the practice rooms."

[eimiette]

minutes

࣪♡ ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: during a high-stakes stakeout, spencer reid and his partner turn their limited time into a distraction from the case at hand. GENRE: smut with plot, idiots in love CW/TAGS: soft!dom spencer (ofc), quicky, piv sex, fingering, lots of banter, est!fwb relationship, reader is referred to as a girl. this is my first spencer reid smut so b nice pls !! <3

the night had settled into a quiet lull, the kind of silence that stretched on and made time feel endless. you’d been parked outside the suspect’s house for hours, watching the shadows play tricks on your eyes while spencer sat beside you, deeply engrossed in a book he’d brought along—one that had nothing to do with the case.

you glanced over at him, unable to resist a little teasing. “you know, we’re supposed to be watching the house, not reading ‘war and peace’ for the millionth time.”

“it’s ‘the brothers karamazov’,” he corrected without looking up, his tone dry but familiar. “and i’ve only read it four times, not a million. it’s called multitasking.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “right. because when i think of multitasking, i think of spencer reid reading existential russian literature while catching criminals.”

he looked up then, a small smile tugging at his lips. “well, it’s a good thing i’m here to broaden your definition of multitasking, isn’t it?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face. “sure, sure. meanwhile, i’m stuck doing all the actual work. keeping an eye out, staying alert… maybe you should take notes.”

he made a show of sighing, marking his place in the book before setting it down. “i hate to break it to you, but i’m perfectly capable of watching and reading at the same time. some of us can do more than one thing.”

“oh, is that so?” you arched a brow, leaning in slightly. “then tell me, genius, what’s happening at the suspect’s house right now?”

spencer paused, his gaze shifting to the darkened windows across the street, then back to you. “the lights in the living room went off about fifteen minutes ago. bedroom lights turned on shortly after, but no one’s left the house since then. there’s a dog barking a few houses down, and someone two blocks over keeps playing the same verse of ‘take on me’ on the piano. badly, i might add.”

you blinked, momentarily stunned. “okay, first of all, how do you even—never mind, i don’t want to know. and second, why would anyone ever play just one verse of ‘take on me’? what kind of psychopath are we dealing with here?”

spencer chuckled, a real laugh that lit up his face in a way that made something warm bloom in your chest. “now that’s the real mystery,” he agreed. “maybe we should call in a second team to handle it.���

you snorted, shaking your head. “only if they’re prepared for a psychological profile of a frustrated piano player. that’s definitely outside my area of expertise.”

“mine too, surprisingly,” he said, his smile softening as his eyes met yours. “though i’m sure we could figure it out together.”

your smile matched his, and for a moment, the banter fell away. it was always like this—easy, comfortable, like you’d known each other forever. bickering was your default, but underneath it, there was something else. something steady. something you never quite acknowledged.

“hey,” you said, breaking the quiet but keeping your voice low, almost conspiratorial. “be honest. are you actually glad we got stuck on this stakeout together, or are you secretly wishing morgan was here instead?”

spencer tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “hmm, well, morgan wouldn’t keep up a running commentary of every single shadow that moves, so that would be a point in his favor.”

you scoffed, nudging his arm with your elbow. “you love my running commentary. admit it.”

he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your stomach flutter. “okay, maybe i’d miss it a little,” he conceded. “just don’t let it go to your head.”

“i knew it!” you crowed, leaning closer with a triumphant smile. “you’re not as tough as you pretend to be, dr. reid. deep down, you actually like having me around.”

his smile turned softer, almost fond, as he met your gaze. “maybe more than i let on,” he said quietly, the teasing edge slipping from his voice.

“you know,” you murmured, voice just above a whisper, “for a genius, you can be pretty slow sometimes.” he turned a page slowly, clearly fighting back a smile. “you’re just jealous because you didn’t think to bring a book.”

“why would i bring a book when i could spend my time annoying you?” you shot back, grinning when he finally glanced over at you, his eyes alight with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“mission accomplished, then,” he replied dryly. “you’ve certainly succeeded in distracting me.”

you let out a laugh. “it’s a talent, what can i say?” you leaned in a little closer, your voice dropping to a lower, more playful tone. “admit it—you like it when i distract you.”

he hummed, pretending to consider your words as he closed his book and set it on the dashboard. “i suppose it does have its perks,” he said, turning his body slightly to face you. his knee brushed against yours, a casual touch that sent a familiar thrill through you. there it was—the shift. you’d felt it countless times before, that subtle change in the air between you. it always started with harmless banter, a little back-and-forth that led to lingering touches, heated looks, and eventually, lips pressed together in the dark of the car or the shadows of a motel room. friends with benefits, that’s what you called it, though even that seemed too formal. it was more like an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that sometimes, the line between friends and something more blurred when the nights got long and lonely.

you arched an eyebrow at him, leaning in even closer. “and what perks would those be, exactly?”

spencer’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his smile turning a bit more mischievous. “the kind that gets me out of reading the same case notes for the third time.”

you chuckled, your heart picking up its pace as you closed the remaining distance between you. “if that’s what it takes to keep you from quoting tolstoy at me again…”

before you could finish, spencer’s lips were on yours, warm and insistent, like he’d been waiting for this. his hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. it wasn’t the first time, not by a long shot, but it still sent a shiver down your spine the way it always did. he kissed you like it was something he needed, not just something to pass the time.

you tilted your head, smiling against his lips. “so, is this how you imagined the stakeout going?”

he pulled back just enough to murmur, “it’s a pretty standard ending for us, don’t you think?”

you laughed softly, your breath mingling with his. “i guess we have a type, huh?”

“apparently,” he replied, his voice low and teasing as his thumb brushed along your jaw. “can’t say i’m complaining, though.”

you hummed in agreement, fingers finding their way into his hair as you brought his lips back to yours. “good. because i’d hate for you to get bored out here,” you whispered between kisses, your words half-teasing, half-sincere.

“i can think of worse ways to spend a stakeout,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. his lips trailed down to your neck, and you let your head fall back, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

you felt spencer’s lips brushing against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. his kisses were warm and deliberate, a welcome distraction from the long hours of the stakeout. you leaned into his touch, but a nagging thought pulled at the edge of your mind, breaking through the haze of pleasure.

“spence,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “should we really be doing this right now? i mean, we’re on a stakeout. there’s a chance the unsub could show up any minute.”

spencer’s eyes flickered with amusement, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips. “oh, come on,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “we’ve been monitoring this place for hours. we’ve got approximately 48 minutes before the unsub’s next predicted move.”

you raised an eyebrow, trying to read his expression. “48 minutes? and how do you know that?”

he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “based on the patterns of his previous crimes, the time between his actions has been pretty consistent. it’s a safe bet we’ve got a little leeway.”

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “so, you’re telling me that you’ve calculated the exact amount of time we have before we need to get back to being all business? kinda sexy you’ve calculated the timing on this out i must say..”

spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and he blinked at you, momentarily thrown off. “sexy? you find profiling talk sexy?”

you nodded, your gaze never leaving his. “yeah, it’s like you’re making crime analysis sound intriguing and… well, a little hot.”

he chuckled, a warm, genuine laugh that sent a thrill through you. “i’ll have to remember that. maybe i should include more of that in my briefing sessions.”

you grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “just don’t let the team catch on. we don’t need them getting ideas.”

spencer’s fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt, his touch lingering with a hint of teasing. “you think they’d actually believe it’s my secret weapon?”

“oh, absolutely,” you replied with a smirk, helping him with his shirt. “morgan would probably have a field day with that.”

spencer’s shirt joined yours on the floor as he flashed a mischievous grin. “if that happens, it’s on you. you’re the one who brought up the idea of sexy profiling.”

“guilty as charged,” you said, pushing his trousers down with a playful nudge. “but you have to admit, you’ve got a way of making it sound pretty compelling.”

he raised an eyebrow, his fingers brushing against your thigh. “compelling, huh? is that the new standard for our stakeouts?” “maybe,” you said, leaning in closer. “or maybe it’s just a nice change of pace.”

spencer’s lips curved into a grin as he pulled you in for another kiss, his hands sliding around your waist. “i can live with that.” you responded with a playful glint in your eye, your fingers brushing against his chest as you shifted closer. with a confident move, you straddled his lap, your body aligning perfectly with his. the shift brought you eye to eye, a spark of heat dancing between you. spencer’s breath hitched slightly, his hands finding their place on your hips as he adjusted to the new closeness. “i see you’re not wasting any time,” he murmured, his voice a low, appreciative rumble.

you chuckled softly, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “why wait? we’ve got a limited window here.”

spencer’s breath hitched slightly, his hands finding their place on your hips. as he adjusted to the new closeness, his fingers slowly slid down, grazing the fabric of your skirt. the sensation of his touch against your skin made you shiver with anticipation. his hands wandered gently, exploring the curve of your hips and the edges of your skirt. his touch was light but deliberate, moving with an almost curious intensity as he traced the contours of your body. you could feel his fingers inching upwards, brushing softly against the bare skin of your thighs.

you pouted, a playful frown tugging at your lips as you looked down at him. “you’re really going to tease me like this?”

spencer met your gaze with a mix of amusement and warmth. “need you to use your words pretty girl.”

you raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on your lips. “oh, is that how it’s going to be?”

he nodded, his touch growing more deliberate but still teasingly slow. “absolutely. tell me what you want.”

you bit your lip, the playful challenge clear in your eyes. “i want you to stop teasing and actually—”

before you could finish, spencer leaned in, his lips brushing against yours as his hands continued their exploration. his touch finally met your soaked core over your underwear, sending a jolt of sensation through you. his whisper against your lips was soft but insistent. “use your words. tell me exactly what you want.”

you parted your lips, your breath coming in soft, needy gasps. “touch me… please.”

spencer’s eyes darkened with desire as he heard your plea. his fingers slipped under the edge of your underwear, meeting the dampness of your core. he let out a low curse, his breath hitching. “fuck, you’re so wet. i should really explain the time management of our cases and unsub patterns more often if-” realizing he was losing focus, spencer shifted his attention back to you. he let out a soft curse, his fingers slipping inside you with a deliberate, smooth motion. the sudden, intimate contact made you gasp, the sensation warm and intense. spencer's fingers moved with a focused precision, sliding inside you with a smooth, deliberate motion. the warmth of his touch and the rhythmic pressure made your breath hitch, a soft whine escaping your lips as the sensation intensified.

he pressed his fingers deeper, his hand moving with a steady, measured rhythm. each thrust was controlled and purposeful, designed to maximize the pleasure that rippled through you. his palm rested firmly against your core, the heat from his hand mingling with the warmth of your skin.

as you whimpered softly, your breath coming in short, shuddering gasps, spencer leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “you’re doing so well,” he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble that sent a thrill down your spine. his thumb brushed lightly against you, adding a delicate pressure that made you whine again, the sound filled with both need and satisfaction.

you bit your lip, struggling to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “spence… i want to feel you. i want—”

he cut you off gently, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “i know. just give me a moment.” his fingers continued their rhythmic dance, his touch a tantalizing blend of warmth and pressure.

but as your need became more urgent, your voice grew more insistent. “please, i need to feel you inside me.”

spencer’s gaze grew more intense, filled with a deep, hungry longing, and he pulled his fingers away slowly, his expression a mix of affection and eagerness. “alright,” he said softly, his voice thick with desire. “i’m here.”

he reached into his wallet, retrieving a condom with a practiced ease. his lips curved into a small, knowing smile as he prepared it, a thought crossing his mind. it was probably because of you that he’d made it a habit to carry them during cases—an adjustment made in response to your playful insistence on being prepared. he tore open the wrapper and readied himself, then guided you gently but firmly into position. his hands were steady on your hips, helping you align perfectly.

as you settled into position, your breath quickening with anticipation, you glanced at him, a playful edge to your voice. “how much time do we have left?”

spencer’s eyes remained locked on yours as he checked the time. “forty minutes and thirty-two seconds—oh fuck.” the expletive slipped out as you slid onto him, the sudden, intense sensation making his breath hitch.

you leaned in closer, your breaths coming in short, heated bursts as you adjusted to the rhythm. the space between you was charged with electricity, each movement synchronized with a growing intensity.

“don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with pleasure.

spencer’s fingers dug into your hips, his movements becoming more deliberate as he matched your pace. “so pretty like this…” he replied, his voice low and intense. “so fucking pretty.”

as the urgency and desire between you built, spencer’s breath quickened, his hands guiding you with a steady, firm grip. each thrust was met with a soft, satisfied gasp from you, the rhythm between you becoming a fluid, intimate dance.

“doing so good for me baby,” spencer murmured, his voice barely more than a breath as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours with a heated, passionate intensity. his touch was everywhere—his hands on your hips, his fingers trailing along your sides.

your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you both lost yourselves in the sensation. the car’s confined space only seemed to heighten the intimacy of the moment, making each touch and movement feel more intense, more immediate.

with each passing second, the urgency of the situation only added to the thrill. spencer’s focus was entirely on you, his eyes locked onto yours as he pushed you both towards the edge. “we’re almost there,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire and determination. “just a little longer.”

the combination of his touch, his kisses, and the urgency of the moment drove you both closer to the peak. the pleasure built steadily, every sensation amplified in the charged atmosphere. you could feel yourself unraveling, every nerve ending sensitized and every touch magnified. the sensation of him inside you was electrifying, a wave of intense pleasure crashing over you with each movement. your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body trembling as you felt yourself falling apart.

“spencer,” you gasped, your voice breaking with the intensity of the experience. your grip on his shoulders tightened, your entire body tensing as the pleasure reached its peak.

spencer’s eyes were locked onto yours, a mix of awe and desire reflected in his gaze. “i know, i know, i’m almost there,” he murmured, his voice a low, reverent whisper. his hands moved with careful precision, his touch both guiding and responding to your reactions.

as the climax hit, you felt a powerful release, your body shuddering and trembling with the intensity of the moment. your voice broke into a series of breathless cries, each one a testament to the overwhelming pleasure you were experiencing.

as the intensity of the moment enveloped you, spencer’s grip tightened on your hips, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps. the way you had fallen apart, your body trembling with pleasure, had driven him to the brink.

his movements became more urgent, his focus solely on the sensation of being inside you, feeling your warmth and responsiveness. you could see the struggle in his eyes, the way his expression shifted from focused desire to complete surrender. “god, i’m close,” he gasped, his voice thick with a mix of urgency and satisfaction. his hands moved more fervently, his rhythm driven by the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.

as you clung to him, your body still trembling from your release, spencer’s movements became erratic. the pleasure built within him until he could no longer hold back. with a series of deep, shuddering breaths, he finally came undone, his body shivering with the force of his climax.

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breaths ragged and hot against your skin. his hands still rested on your hips, holding you close as he rode out the final waves of his release.

as the intensity of the moment gradually faded, spencer’s touch softened. he pulled you close, his hands gently brushing over your skin as he helped you both come down from the high. his breath was still uneven, but his touch was tender and reassuring.

“are you okay?” he asked softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with a mix of concern and tenderness.

you nodded, a contented smile forming. “yeah, i’m fine. you?”

spencer chuckled, slipping on his shirt. “well, we’ve got approximately 22 minutes to spare.”

you raised an eyebrow, pulling on your top. “and what are we going to do with those 22 minutes?”

he smirked, buttoning his jacket. “well, i could use a quick breather. maybe we can discuss how i should properly schedule my case briefings.”

you laughed, adjusting your clothes. “sounds like a plan. just make sure you don’t forget to factor in the importance of effective timing.” spencer’s grin widened as he straightened his collar. “duly noted. next time, i’ll make sure to account for every possible variable.”

-

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

[yeoslattes]

How We Live In Tokyo

Genre: Smut, TFATF: Tokyo Drift AU!

Word Count: 5.8k

Pairings: street racer Matz!Hwa x street racer fem! reader

Summary: You were notoriously once known as the drift princess, but now you're Hwa's girl. In attempt to reclaim your title, you race, pissing off Seonghwa in the process. You are also Hwa's number one cheerleader.

Warnings: Hwa comes off as a meanie during certain parts, VERY minimal description of reader, Hongjoong openly flirts with reader (his bffs girl...), Hwa confesses, possessive Hwa, weed use, high sex, manhandling, ruined orgasm, oral m+f receiving, eating it through the panties..., lots of spit, spanking, mentions of Hongjoong fucking you by Hwa, Hwa is low-key into it, choking, just rough asf, reader cries during sex, deepthroating, creampie (unprotected sex asf), use of sir like once, basically Seonghwa fucks you stupid, very minimal subspace by reader, aftercare

A/N: She's here, for my first smut after a while it's not too shabby. I'm an over thinker so I kept reviewing and editing just making sure I was happy with the final product. Also I based the reader's car off Suki's pink car in 2003 movie, just cause I thought it'd be perfect for her. I hope you guys enjoy this Hwa as much as I did!

“Ready! Set! GO!” You swing the red cloth in your hand down, the cars beside you rev noisily. Smoke from the tire burnout goes up in the air engulfing you in a heavy cloud, and just like that the first racers of tonight were off. This was one of your favorite parts of the night life in Tokyo, the races. You never intended to become a car girl, but after a couple flings here and there got you into nighttime racing, the rush and thrill it brought you was simply euphoric. The crowd cheers loudly, flip phones out recording and taking pictures, you jump in the air waving your hands cheering over the loud music and screams. 

While everyone was focused on the race at hand your eyes scanned the scenery for the only man that mattered to you, however he was nowhere in sight. You walked over to your pink Supra S2000 and leaned against the door. Your manicured hand ran over the sleek paint, you smiled at how smooth the finish felt beneath your fingertips. This car was your baby, everything was thought out and hand picked. Rolling around in a ride like your own had never made you feel anything less than superior. You were also Hwa’s girl and that in itself said enough. 

As if manifested by thought, the loud exhaust causes heads to turn, the familiar midnight blue body and chrome accents on the 350Z were unmistakable. Your eyes lingered on the white lettered decal spelling ‘MATZ’ on the upper windshield, you smirked slightly as he pulled up next to you. People cheered when Hwa stepped out, clad in a long fur coat and a muscle tee underneath, he looked delectable. Despite the layers, the large letters in black ink decorating his neck were perfectly on display. 

He greets his racing partner Hongjoong and the notorious KQ Fellaz who had also built an impeccable reputation amongst the Tokyo racing scene. He smiles at you as soon as he spots you. The glimmer of his grills catch the fluorescent lights of the crowded parking garage. “Hey.” He grumbles lowly in your ear, pulling you into him and pressing a searing kiss on your glossy lips. He looked down at you, long strands of raven black hair falling over his eyes. “You look good babe.” He compliments, long fingers coming up to tap on the hoops that were slightly hidden behind the layers of your hair. You smiled up at him, your legs suddenly feeling like jelly under his stare. 

The arm wrapped around your shoulder drops as he turns around to look at the S2000 you were resting your weight on. He walks around it, a singular hand running over the paint. He lifts the hood up, whistling when he sees the engine, “V8 is looking good babe.” He closes the hood after admiring, “Thanks, can’t wait to take her out on a spin tonight.” At your words Hwa’s face drops, his small grin being replaced by a disapproving expression. “Not tonight baby.” You huff in annoyance, see before you and Hwa had gotten together, you were one of the best female racers in this particular part of Tokyo. Every Friday night you’d come out to the streets and race against other girls and even guys. More often than not you’d end up winning. Slowly, you built up a reputation for yourself, even earning the nickname ‘drift princess’ in the process. But that was before Hwa came in and dethroned all the top racers and drifters, ending your streak as well. Eventually, you fell for him, and while he looked stoic and rude on the outside he was a sweetie behind closed doors. His charm was all you needed to become enthralled in him, needless to say you became his princess; you were Hwa’s girl as everyone knew. You ate that title up every single time, however, the singular con about being his one and only was that in fear of you getting hurt, Seonghwa didn’t let you race anymore, not against the good ones at least. He’d always let you go against the newbies, those who were still getting the hang of the Tokyo streets and drifts. 

“Seonghwa.” You begin in a begging tone, but he put his ring clad hand up, silencing you. You rolled your eyes, brooding against the Barbie pink car that was begging for a race. You watched as he went back to where Hongjoong stood conversing in a group.

A frown replaces the big smile you had just minutes ago.

You look around, hoping to find someone that’d wanna take you up on a race, even if Seonghwa had said no. Majority of the seasoned drivers were men, and due to their fragile egos, they wouldn’t dare race against you in fear that you might actually beat them and they’d never be able to live it down. 

You huff in annoyance, and pull your car door open, slipping into the pink leather seats. Your mini skirt is short enough that you feel the cool leather against the plumpness of your ass. You shake your own tan fur coat off, flipping your long hair over your shoulder to give your moistened skin some air. Rummaging through your glove compartment filled with body spray and lipgloss, you pull out a roll of bubble gum, shoving a fat piece in your mouth.

As you reapply gloss and fix your hair in the mirror a female voice catches your attention, “hey,” you looked up at your friend who was polishing the car door just a few minutes ago. She nods in the direction of Matz.

Your eyes turn into slivers when you see 2 girls chatting with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Hongjoong has his arm around the slimmer girl, he gives her a cheshire cat like smile and you could almost see her swoon, but that’s not who you were worried about. Seonghwa, is leaning against his car, arms crossed, talking to the girl in front of him. Her dainty hand comes up to touch the fur sleeve of his coat, she says something with a big smile that causes Hwa to cackle loudly. She wears a low cut halter top and a mini skirt slightly longer than yours, but the expanse of her legs made it look like a belt around her waist. 

You rolled your eyes and stepped out of the car. You walk over to them, a big smile adorning your face, “hey baby.” You say in a sultry voice, your hand comes up Hwa’s arm and you proceed, “Who’s our new friend?” You turn to look at her, popping the pink bubble gum in your mouth. 

You can audibly hear Hwa sigh, he leans into your ear so only you can hear, “play nice.” He whispers, his cold hand resting against the warm skin of your waist. You continue to look at her, and she smirks, “who are you?” You chuckle loudly at her words, catching the attention of the people that were around. Seonghwa lets out an airy laugh looking back at Hongjoong as if to say ‘are you seeing this right now’ to which his best friend just raises his eyebrows and chuckles, fully invested in the face off. “I’m his girlfriend. Who are you?” People are starting to gather around, you step closer to her and feel Hwa’s hand squeeze your side as a warning but you ignore him. There’s a look of realization in her eyes and her face relaxes, “ahh,” she starts, “you must be the so-called drift princess.” Her faux friendly expression drops into a stoic one, “Where I’m from there are no nicknames. You’re either good or absolute shit.” She spits. 

Your heart hammers in your chest but you ignore it, “Is that a threat? Cause I bet you I can give you a run for your money.” At this point you’re so close to her you can see the glitter lining the underside of her eye. “If I lose, I’ll leave but if I win…” She pauses momentarily, looking behind you at Seonghwa, who stands arms crossed against his car, a serious look adorning his pretty features. He hated where this was going. “If I win I’ll have him.” You chuckle and so does Hwa, making the girl in front of you cock an eyebrow up in confusion at his reaction. “I hope you pick something else.” You say shifting your weight from one leg to the other. Her eyes wander to your right, “oof didn’t think the puppy had a designated owner but that’s fine. I’ll take your car.” People around you gasp and ‘ooh’ at her request. When you tongue your cheek, she feigns a pout knowing she’d hit the spot. “Deal, see you in 10.” She whips around and walks off somewhere. 

Before you can take a step, Seonghwa grabs your arm tightly, spinning you around to face him. “You must be out of your fucking mind. You bet off the car you’ve worked so fucking hard on?” He scoffs, his tongue pressed against his cheek in annoyance, “you’re fucking unbelievable.” He groans, your arms cross at your chest, resting underneath your tits, causing Seonghwa to glance down for a split second. “Oh but if it was you it’d make it okay?” You leave him with his words in his mouth, walking away before he even got the chance to get a syllable out.

Hongjoong laughs loudly at your attitude and Seonghwa’s distress, he slaps his friends back in amusement. “She’s giving you a run for your money huh Hwa?” He says. The annoyed man shoots his blonde friend a glare, resting his hands on his hips he throws his head back and huffs out a breath. 

You stand on standby waiting to get the okay from your girls as they check your car before the race. Your teeth toy with your bottom lip, nervousness settling in your tummy.

You hop in your ride and turn it on, the loud engine causing people to whistle. You might’ve been old to the game but the pre race jitters were very much real. Your opponent on the other hand seemed relaxed. Your hands are clammy on the wheel but with deep breaths you manage to bring the bile rising up your throat down. Hwa stands front row and you can see him through your windshield, he stares at you before whispering something to Yunho who was part of the KQ Fellaz. The tall and slender man draws his eyes to you as Seonghwa is in his ear, and he nods agreeing with whatever your boyfriend was saying. Hwa finishes and stands still in his spot, his jaw ticks, clearly upset at what was about to happen in just mere seconds. 

A girl in low rise jeans and a skimpy top comes between both cars, your foot presses on the gas, your car sputtering loudly. “Ready! Set! GO!” The pretty girl lifts her hand up and just like that your foot slams onto the pedal. You feel it before you see it as you zoom down the spacious garage. With your opponent already a couple feet ahead of you, your heart hammers in your chest, body running on pure adrenaline.

A tight turn is up ahead and you maneuver the wheel and use the e-brake to perfectly drift around until you’re heading straight again. She on the other hand turns slightly too wide slowing her down by a couple of seconds allowing you to zoom past her. The girl is hot on your ass but you keep her at bay not allowing her to get the upper hand. Her pretty face contorts in frustration as she struggles to make any moves. 

This is when you start to relax and it’s like you had never stopped racing. Your mind becomes so aware of your surroundings and what you were feeling. From the way your new wheels felt smooth on the cement, to the low vibrations shaking through you; this was euphoria. 

Your eyebrows knit together in pure concentration as you accelerate. You hit another tight turn, performing the drift that many struggled with effortlessly. Right before the parking garage ramp that spirals upward into the main street, you keep going straight. With a heavy foot you press on the gas, giving it all you got, you can see the exit of the garage and the final drift that everyone always anticipated. 

As you neared it you turned the wheel and pulled on the e-brake, successfully drifting up the ramp till you made it out, the hoard of people eagerly waiting. At the sight of the pink lights adorning the underside of your car, Seonghwa relaxes. You had fucking done it. Your wheels skid loudly as you slow down to park your car.

People high five you and jump on the hood celebrating what had basically been your comeback after so long. You hopped out the car, pulling your slutty skirt down and jumping on Hwa. His hands wrap around your waist, stuffing his face into your neck, taking in your sweet perfume. “Good job baby.” He whispers in that deep voice of his. “You’re so fucking hot you know that?” He says pulling you into a sloppy kiss. The girl who had raced you parks her car and hops out storming over to you. “That wasn’t fair.” She argues, “you are either good or absolute shit.” You shrug, reciting her words back to her. She grits her teeth and storms off, disappearing into the mass of people. You feign a pout and roll your eyes. As people start to head back down into the garage, Seonghwa pulls you into him. “Bad girl.” His words shoot straight to your pussy, a heat wave rolling over your body.

Another Friday rolls around, it'd been precisely one week since you won your first race back. It was already 11 PM but the streets of Tokyo were calling your name. Tonight’s outfit consisted of a low rise pleated miniskirt and a long sleeve crop top. You looked in the mirror, enjoying how your belly button jewelry dangled and glimmered under the warm lights of your room. Tonight would be special since Matz had gotten challenged by two random guys who wanted to claim territory. If there was one thing you loved to do on a night that Hwa would be racing was look pretty and sit like a good girl in the passenger seat of his car while he raced. I’ll be there soon baby, you sent Hwa a message through your pink flip phone hoping that he wouldn’t be too distracted to read it. 

Singular strands of your hair stick to your glossy lips as you cruise down the somewhat empty roads, the wind blows through your hair and you sing along quietly to the Nelly Furtado CD Hwa had gifted you. It wasn’t long before you were pulling up into the infamous garage. If there were alot of people last Friday, they had tripled today, of course just for Matz. You pulled into the spot next to Hwa, your loud exhaust catching his attention. He went from talking with Hongjoong to looking at you. He smiled at your car, still not over how perfectly the pink decked out car suited you. 

You killed the engine and hopped out, already feeling the eyes running over the expanse of your body, Hongjoong and Hwa included. If there was one thing about Hongjoong was that he did not care. Yes, Seonghwa was his best buddy, but he made sure to let Seonghwa know just how delectable you were with no shame. Still, in other ways he was respectful of his best friend’s relationship but he loved to take peeks anytime he could. 

You walk over to your boyfriend who instead of the iconic big fur coat wore baggy cargos and a muscle tee, his arms on full display. “Hey baby.” You say pressing a kiss on his cheek, you smile at the slight residue of your lips on his cheek. He grabs your chin and kisses you, you try to pull back but the suffocating grip on your face keeps you in place. His tongue toys with yours, and he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before letting go with a final bite. When you pull away he grins at your flushed face and how he had basically eaten all the lip gloss off. 

“Hey Hongjoong.” You pant loudly, greeting the other man who had seen the entire exchange in front of him, he nods his head up at you, “drift princess has made a comeback huh?” He teases, you nod sheepishly. “Maybe next time you’ll take me up on a race?” You ask with big eyes and he smiles, “is that a challenge?” He asks, cocking his brow up, “of course.” He lets out an airy laugh, “that’s if Hwa lets you.” He teases, before walking towards his car. You turn to look back at Hwa who’s grip has tightened around you.

“Hongjoong is up first. Are you gonna be a good girl and cheer for him baby?” Seonghwa says leaning down so you could hear him. You nod and clap excitedly when you see Hongjoong’s car by the start line. As soon as Hongjoong takes off you and Seonghwa run towards the finish line, you both wait, watching through the small flip phone screens as people document the race. You cheer loudly when you notice Hongjoong’s car is ahead. In no time he is skidding up the ramp, drifting into the big pit. He had won! Hwa claps and whistles loudly at his partner's success, now it was up to him to win the second one to maintain the best of the best title. 

You follow your boyfriend down to the garage and hop into the 350Z, you inhale the fresh car scent mixed with his cologne. “Ready baby?” You ask him, he grips your hand and kisses it, “always.” 

Hongjoong peers in through the passenger side window, you buckle in as he talks to his best friend, paying no mind to what they were discussing. When he finishes he taps the edge of the window and sends you his infamous cheeky smile and a wink. 

You sit quietly, sucking in a breath and getting ready for the ride. Hwa exits the garage, and that’s when it becomes too real. One thing about Seonghwa was that he always preferred racing in the streets rather than the garage that almost every race took place in. You place a hand over your chest, feeling your blood pumping muscle thrumming beneath your fingers. At the sound of you sucking in another sharp breath Seonghwa turns his gaze to you. “Scared?” He asks, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. You purse your lips swallowing thickly, nodding. “It’s usually more dangerous Hwa, I hate when you do this.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Dangerous…” He scoffs, “That’s what I said last week when you raced and you still went against my word. So, sit, look pretty and hold on tight or get the fuck out.” He had gotten you there, regardless, there was no way to ever argue with Park Seonghwa. So, you shut your mouth up and look down at your fiddling hands.

The starter is another girl, she swings her bra up in the air and when it drops Seonghwa takes off. The g-force alone pulls you back into the seat, your hands grip the door handle and your seat, ironically your fear only grew. He hollers loudly already having a great advantage to his opponent, your body turns with the car as he drifts. You stared at his pretty features, his perfect skin and long nose bridge accompanied by his pink and plump lips. He’s too busy looking for the guy through his mirrors to really pay attention to anything else, the air blows violently into the car, your hair a mess now. The longer you sit in the car, the more you start to relax, the cool breeze in your face relieving your anxiety. 

Seonghwa startles you when he grumbles loudly, he hits the steering wheel out of frustration, his opponent had passed him. You weren’t too familiar with the path Hwa was taking, perhaps racing here once or twice before and if you remembered correctly he was more than halfway done. 

“Hold on!” He yells, he presses the red button beneath his thumb, immediately you are pulled back from the sudden acceleration. His 350Z zoomed by the guy in the other car and already you could see where the finish line was. Hwa keeps the man at bay as he rides his ass. As if it were clockwork the crowd of people disperse to make room for the infamous Park Seonghwa. He crosses the threshold into the pit of people, the car coming to a noisy stop. He cheers and you cheer along with him “I fucking love you.” He yells, you feel everything go in slow motion at that moment, the faces of the people cheering him on outside become a blur, it almost felt like you had ascended. “W-what?” you say in confusion, “I fucking love you. I am in love with you.” He says, smiling widely at you. 

Like a tradition, people hit the roof and hood of the car congratulating him on another victory. He pulls you into a heated kiss and when you pull away you lean into his ear. “I love you too Hwa.” He hops out of the car and you follow suit, instantly, he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up. Hongjoong comes up and gives him a hug, “we are still the best of the fucking best.” Hwa’s best friend yells.

The rest of the night you had spent velcroed to Seonghwa’s side, celebrating the win and watching other races go on. By 2am you were ready to call it a night. That's when Hwa pulls you aside, “wanna spend the night?” He asks tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. You nod eagerly, “we can get high and do whatever we want.” He whispers only for you to hear. His hands softly caress yours. “I’ll see you there baby.”

The drive to Matz’s garage is about 10 minutes, you pull in and park in the spot Seonghwa had reserved for just you.

The garage was Seonghwa’s and Hongjoong’s working space, it was scattered with car parts as well as half built vehicles. You stepped out of your pink mobile and headed up the metal stairs, your boots stomping loudly, sending vibrations up the railing. Hwa stands at the door and lets you in.

You stepped into the warm apartment, fully expecting Hongjoong to be there but instead it's quiet. “Where’s Joong?” You wonder, not wanting to impose on his personal space and most definitely not wanting him there if you and Hwa got to it. “Found some girl at the race tonight so he won’t be here.” 

As always Hwa hands you an oversized shirt, it was a routine any time you stayed at his. Given that your clothes weren’t always the most comfortable, he’d always have an oversized tee on deck just for you. You strip in front of him, already feeling his gaze burning holes into your supple skin. You sigh gleefully at the feeling of the tight clothes being off your body. 

Seonghwa sparks the blunt, his slender fingers bring it up to his lips, he takes a long drag and hands it to you. “I don’t know if I should.” You say quietly, weed just wasn’t your thing like it was Hwa’s. “It’s indica this time baby. You’re here with me, it’ll be okay.” You take the burning blunt from him and raise it up to your lips, praying that you wouldn’t end up panicking like the first time you had smoked with him. Your eyes close softly, as the smoke rushes into your lungs, affecting all your senses.

You hold the smoke in for a couple seconds, handing it back to your lover. Seonghwa takes 2 long hits, relaxing into the couch you two were on. Your eyes linger on  him, you could see his eyes drooping slightly from the marijuana. His limbs are loosely splayed on the couch, blunt hanging loosely between his pointer and thumb. Without much thought you reach for the burning plant and take another hit, that was enough to have you feeling like you were melting into the couch. You didn’t know how, but Hwa always managed to finish the blunt, this time was no different. 

“I’m pretty high right now.” He mumbles thoughtlessly slouching down even further. As the minutes tick by you feel yourself get more and more intoxicated. You felt tingles run up and down your arms and legs and your eyes felt heavy. Seonghwa drapes his fluffy blanket over the both of you when he notices your body starting to shiver. Normally, you’d be freaking out but for some reason you felt fine, just high. Seonghwa lays his head on your lap, eyes on the TV. You looked down at him watching his eyes slowly blink as he focused on Finding Nemo. The chills had subsided, if anything you felt warm now, even warmer as you felt Hwa’s hand trailing up and down your bare thigh. 

He grins slightly when he feels your thighs twitch beneath him. He kept this up for what felt like ages, never getting close to where you really needed him. Seonghwa shifts down, the full weight of his head now resting on your left thigh. You lean your head back on the couch when he runs his hand between your legs this time. He fully reaches your hot heat. “H-Hwa…” You whimper weakly, you pout when he looks up at you. He sits up, one leg pulled in and the other one resting on the floor. He presses his lips against yours, his hands gripping your face. Nothing was neat about the kiss, it was filled with hunger and lust. His spit coats your chin now and you moan when his tongue snakes between your parted lips. He roughly pulls you onto his lap, large hands going directly to rest on your ass. You pulled away momentarily, to mumble a quick “I love you Hwa.” He pauses his actions, fingers brushing messy hair strands away from your face, “I love you too baby.”

Seonghwa grunts when you grind down forcefully on him, he pushes you off him roughly, and drags you into his room. You bask in his sheets, his scent completely engulfing you, you felt like you were drowning in him. “Been wanting to fuck you ever since I saw you in that stupid slutty outfit of yours.” He tugs his shirt off you. Immediately his lips latch onto one of your buds while his free hand toys with your other tit. You felt like you were floating and in a way he felt so far yet so close. All your senses were on overdrive thanks to the weed. “Seonghwa please.” His hands wrap around the back of your knees to flip you onto your belly, 

His hand comes down heavy on your plush ass. Hwa smiles sinisterly at the red hand print forming, he feels himself twitch in his pants. He delivers a couple more slaps, “don’t think I have forgotten how you’ve been flirting with Hongjoong.” You lift your head up to protest but he shoves you back down and you let out a yelp. “What a slut. My best friend? Really?” He grits out as he works on the button of his pants.

You can’t push down the tears that sting your eyes, despite his words you knew he knew you’d only ever pick him, he just wanted to pick on you. 

You rest tummy down one cheek pressed against the mattress, “Hongjoongie keeps messing wi-.” You’re cut off by Hwa’s hand landing on your already abused skin. “Don’t try to make it his fault.” He grits, leaning his torso to get closer to your ear, “but honestly if I was him I’d wanna wreck you too.” A wave of arousal crashes over your body, shooting straight south. 

 Hwa pauses, watching the way your thighs pressed together. You sniffle, tears rolling freely now out of frustration. “Are you fucking crying?” Seonghwa says brushing your hair away from your eyes. He scoffs, “no way you’re fucking crying.” Seonghwa clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“It’s okay baby, maybe one day I’ll feel nice and let him fuck you too. Would you like that?” He teases, flipping you back onto your back. You shake your head ‘no’. He spreads your legs open and toys with your sensitive bud that your panties outline. “No? Because you’re soaked right now.” Without slipping the dampened undergarment  off he leans down and flattens his tongue against your cunt, soiling the fabric even further with his spit. 

Hwa works his long tongue languidly against you making you writhe in his grasp. “H-hwa.” You moan attempting to shove your hips against his face. The grip he has around your thighs prevents you from doing so. He presses harder against you and loosens his grip allowing you to fuck yourself on his pretty face. You groan, involuntarily grinding against him desperately trying to chase your high. “Cum baby cum.” He sounds muffled, the weed heightening every sensation has you teetering on the brink of your orgasm rather quickly. Right before you fall over the edge he pulls away; waves of what could've been your orgasm roll through you but fade as quickly as they came leaving you unsatisfied. 

You groan in annoyance, tears pooling in your eyes yet again. “You’re leaking from both ends now, that’s new.” Seonghwa says as he cups your chin, he leans down so his droopy eyes are directly in front of your teary ones. “There's no reason to cry so stop before I give a reason to.” His words make the tears actually roll down your face this time and he grins at the sight.

He flips you back onto your belly, “all fours baby.” As high as you were, you did your best to move into the requested position, your limbs moving slowly due to your impaired motor skills. He pulls your underwear down, sniffling slightly. You can feel his cockhead prodding at your sopping hole, you whine, wiggling your hips back against him. His large hands come to your shoulder blades to hold you down while he pushes in. You gasp at the intrusion, the stretch so delicious you squirm back to get more. “Stay still.” he grumbles annoyingly. He fucks into you hard, his hips being unforgiven against the globes of your ass. You keep shifting to which Seonghwa stops and places a hand on your lower back to deepen your arch. “Don’t move.” He keeps you there, his thrusts are deep and forceful, hitting that spongy spot deliciously. 

Your mouth is agape but there’s no sound coming out. “God- fuck Hwa,” you pant, tongue lolling out of your mouth and your eyes rolling back to your skull. “Feels good huh baby” He grunts, his own pants and groans filling the room, “so fucking perfect- you’re perfect.” He whines desperately, rutting into your wet pussy, you fight for air, your gasps sounding high pitched every time you sucked in air. 

He pulls out, “Get up quickly.” He commands, grabbing you by the arm, he manhandles you on your knees. “Open.” Your mouth drops open, tongue out ready for whatever he had to give you. Seonghwa wastes no time shoving his cock down your throat. You relax as much as you can, spit pooling in your mouth and falling onto your chest in thick ropes. Through the slits of your eyes you can see Seonghwa looking down on you with heavy eyes, the ‘Matz’ scribbled across his neck stretching beautifully as he throws his head back. Spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth and he grabs your head and shoves his dick desperately as far as he could until you are fighting to pull away.

You push back, resting your ass on your heels, fighting to catch your breath. “Good fucking girl baby. Cmon get up so I can’t fuck my load into you.” Hwa says, slightly out of breath. You lay back on the bed, hips hanging slightly off the bed, he slips right back in. Your spit mixed with your wetness, allows his cock to enter your walls smoothly. Your back arches off the bed as he fucks you hard, his hands push down on your waist once more to pin you down. 

The fat head of his cock hits your spot again. Everything feels far away now, but your orgasm is fast approaching. “You’re fucked d-dumb aren’t you. Does my dick do that to you?” He asks, his tongue running over his pink lips, “look at you can’t even fucking answer me.” Seonghwa’s hand wraps around your throat tightly while his free one toys with your clit, stimulating you to the brink of your orgasm, a couple more strokes and your legs begin quaking on his shoulders, “Fuck Hwa, sir too muc- I can’t.” You cry out, bringing your arms that suddenly feel so heavy to push him off but instead he wraps his hands around your wrists and presses them into the bed, “it’s o-okay baby. I’m almost there.” Sweat drops are now falling on you. He slows down his thrusts, he grinds himself into your cervix that sends him over the edge. His hips still and he groans loudly emptying his load into you. You whine, weakly trying to get him off, but still relishing in your postorgasmic bliss. He pulls out watching the way you weakly curl into yourself, his spunk seeping out of you and he can't help but smirk. 

“Don’t float away from me yet baby.” He says tapping your cheek. He slips the same shirt you had on earlier over your head and wipes you down. Slipping on some sweats and an old shirt he tucks himself in bed with you. Your eyes are now closed, the cloudiness of your high slowly dissipating but still, you felt exhausted. You slowly blinked, now realizing that Hwa had turned off the lights and you sleepily admired the way the neon purple lights from the signs outside illuminated the room.

“Hwa?” You ask into the darkness. “Hm?” He responds, not moving from his spot, “I might’ve agreed to another race next weekend.” You say sheepishly, he rolls his eyes in the dark, and you can feel the disappointment and annoyance radiating off him, “you’re in big trouble.”