#Which I haven’t experienced in a while
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I’m going through and clearing my following to make sure my dash stays rp-focused. If I’ve soft-blocked you it’s either because we haven’t written together before and I don’t see us writing together, we’ve written together before but haven’t in a while, you’ve been inactive for a long time, you post too much ooc/non-rp related content.
Nothing personal, people can post what they want on their blogs, but at least for me I’d like to cater my rp-space to make it as chill and relaxing as possible, seeing as this is a hobby. Too much negativity on my dash is just not something I’m capable of dealing with mentally right now.
I’m also going to be more plot-focused from now on to make interactions and dynamics easier. I might also be considering more affiliates in addition to @betterasamerc.
#⌠ ooc – out of comebacks ⌡#As I’ve said to some people I’ve been going through a really bad depressive episode#Which I haven’t experienced in a while#I should try and surround myself with positivity where possible#And my dash is one place where I can actually control the content I see#I don’t like to post about that stuff on here because I’m not comfortable sharing too much of my personal life on the internet#So yeah#Anyway#Im going to try to get to the replies I owe soon I’ve been trying to finish my icons for a while#That plus work keeping me busy
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thanks for the tags @dwarvenagenda & @pricegouge !! 💓
it was fun to check my stats for this year :3

funny to compare how i started my year vs how its ending (fandoms im writing for, fic length range, themes and tropes i’m preferring, etc).
i’ve found that although ive maybe written less and had less interaction in general from readers this year i’ve truly found some amazing people that i consider good friends on here now :’) and i wouldn’t swap that for anything!!
blank copy below and npt: @pricetagged @ohlawdthebirds @sentientcave @syoddeye @gloard @wraithdance @buttdumplin @luvrodite @mikichko @lewistoferrari @disgustingtwitches
#very ironic that my top fic is inspired by the same tv show that my top spotify song came from too#like it truly took over my year apparently…#i’m trying not to push myself to suddenly go on a writing rampage bc i really wanted to hit 200k by the end of the year BUT#it’s meant to be fun not about hitting goals so this is teaching me restraint lmao#i know i’ll have written a lil bit more that’s just not posted on ao3 but not enough to make a difference#plus i had suuuuper bad writers block and a major confidence crisis mid year and i haven’t had that in a while before#i think having a community helps and is lovely in a way i’ve never experienced but it also made me feel like i had to compete (totally my#own feelings and anxiety at play. not at all anyone else putting on that pressure)#but it’s been a learning curve for me to try and just enjoy it and not focus on stats and churning out content - previously i’ve only ever#interacted with people through comments so i had quite a skewed view of ‘if i want to talk to people about this then i have to create to#get their attention.’ which isn’t true or healthy! but i know that now and im going my best not to fall back into bad habits#tag games#tag game
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Time to play: is it depersonalization, anemia, or something you’ve never even heard of!
#I’ve been having these weird bouts of very brief dizziness/disorientation and also like. Just not really being able to feel my body?#and when I say brief. I mean two seconds max.#and I never heard back from my doctor about my low rbc in my blood work so I still don’t know if I really qualify as anemic?#Which means I also haven’t been recommended any vitamins or supplements or anything so I don’t know if those would help#but I also wouldn’t be surprised if this is psychological.#Though I haven’t been experiencing any other symptoms of depersonalization/derealization and I don’t know what else it would be so. No clue#It’s not really getting in the way of anything but it already happened once while I was driving so I’m worried that if it gets any worse#it could start being dangerous 😬
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May I request a five x reader where they are living domestically and just being happy and lovey dovey especially experiencing everything they did together while being in the apocalypse, the time commission, stoping the other apocalypses etc (five x Lila doesn’t exist five x Lila doesn’t exist five x Lilia doesn’t-)
a/n: this piece is basically a big fuck you to s4 so enjoy five being happy and domestic with reader and not his own brother’s wife. also five and reader are mentally older adults but physically in their twenties
warnings: language, fluff, mentions of pregnancy
summary: now that the timeline has been fixed and the world is no longer in danger, five can enjoy a peaceful life with you
The sunlight that bleeds through the curtains is almost blinding as Five begins to stir himself awake. Stretching out his limbs until he hears a satisfying pop, he lets out a sigh and moves to reach out for someone that isn’t there. Your spot in bed is still warm which means you haven’t been gone for long, but Five still rises with a sense of urgency when greeted with your absence. Call it muscle memory from dealing with multiple kidnapping ploys against you or an old habit that just won’t die off after having to remain vigilant when protecting you from the enemy, but the poor boy’s heart always skips a beat when you go missing.
He finds you in the kitchen brewing a fresh pot of coffee, your back to him as you hum along to the radio that plays on the counter and search for Five’s favorite cup in the cabinet. He has to pause and take a breath to remind himself that you’re not in danger, your life of protecting timelines and ending apocalypses is over, and the fresh start you’ve made for yourselves isn’t in any jeopardy. You’re real, you’re alive, and you’re his.
“Morning,” Five softly calls with a careful smile as he rests a hand on the small of your back and presses a tender kiss to your lips.
“Good morning,” you great cheerfully before handing him his cup of coffee. “I didn’t hear you get up. Did I wake you?”
“Not at all,” he assures you before taking a hearty gulp of the hot liquid. After years of being together you know how to make Five’s coffee just the way he likes it and could probably do so in your sleep if asked. Your thoughtfulness is just one of the many traits of yours that have him wrapped around your finger always.
“We need to go grocery shopping,” you note dutifully as you peek your head into the fridge in search of breakfast. Frowning, you announce, “We’re out of eggs, so I guess it’s frozen waffles for breakfast.”
“Why don’t we go out for breakfast today?” Five suggests with an innocent shrug.
“Really? But you hate breakfast places. They can never make your coffee right.”
“I also hate seeing you eat frozen waffles three days in a row,” he reminds you with a wry chuckle. Maneuvering you out of the way, Five closes the fridge shut and gives you a gentle nudge in the direction of your shared bedroom. “Go on, get dressed. You can wear that new dress you bought the other day.”
“You’re right!” You exclaim with an excited gasp and rush off to your room before Five can change his mind. Not that he would, of course. Five would do anything to see you happy after all the shit he’s put you through in your time together. Sometimes he still wonders why you ever agreed to marry him, perhaps a slip of sanity or lack of care for your own wellbeing, but he wasn’t one to complain. He liked living the quiet life with you, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.
~~~
The night air is cool against your bare shoulders as you sit comfortably upon the porch swing and listen to the cicadas sing their evening song. The sun has long since set, but the string of lights that hang above you are enough to allow you to see the pages of your color by numbers book. Beside you, Five sits with a book in one hand while the other rests atop of your legs strewn across his lap. He enjoys sitting in the silence of your company as you remain glued together despite partaking in your own hobbies separately.
“We’ve been married for thirty years,” you state simply, breaking the silence but never once breaking your focus from your coloring book.
“Sure have,” is Five’s thoughtful reply. Setting his book aside, your husband gives your calf a gentle squeeze and turns to look at your concentrated features.
“Not including your siblings, it’s always been just us. Together in the apocalypse, partners under the Commission, husband and wife.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, not quite sure what point you’re trying to make. Are you rethinking the marriage? Are you finally starting to have regrets about marrying him? He watches with bated breath as you set your materials to the side and finally meet his anxious gaze.
“I want to start a family of our own,” you finally confess, nervously fidgeting with your wedding ring as you await his response with hopeful eyes. “I don’t want it to be just us anymore.”
Sighing, Five leans his head back and shuts his eyes as he processes your request. He can’t say he’s surprised by your question; he’s noticed the way you eye babies in public, how you linger just a little too long to admire the window display of the infant clothing store at the mall, how you’ll hold the twins for hours in your arms and refuse to give them back until Diego has to physically pry them from your grasp. It’s only natural for you to feel this way, but that’s not the problem. The problem is Five isn’t exactly sure how he feels about becoming a father.
“I don’t know,” he admits carefully, taking great caution when choosing his next words so as to not upset you. “Having a kid, becoming parents… it changes everything.”
“I know we couldn’t before because there was the Commission and then the multiple apocalypses, and that’s why I never asked. But Five,” you urge gently, shifting to sit yourself up on your knees so you can reach over and take both of his hands in your own, “all of that is done with. We fixed the timeline, and all that end of the world nonsense is over with for good. No one is coming after us anymore or trying to kill me to get to you. We can properly grow old now and have a simple life together, wasn’t that always the goal?”
The boy is silent as he mulls over your speech. You’re completely right; saving the world and resetting the timeline to its proper place in order to ensure you and his siblings could have the lives you deserved was always the end goal. But after spending his entire existence trying to complete that task, he finds it hard to adjust to his new life of normalcy. Perhaps he’s not exactly scared of becoming a parent, but scared of what a baby would mean in the grand scheme of things. It would be proof that his work is truly over now, that he can turn his survival mode off after having it set to fight for so many years, and that’s a big adjustment for someone like him.
But when he looks at your hopeful gaze and sees the way you anxiously worry your lip between your teeth, he realizes that he’ll do anything to give you the happy life you deserve. He brings one of your hands to his lips and holds it tight as he murmurs his answer into the skin of your palm.
“If you think we’re ready, then I’m in.”
“You mean it?” You gasp while doing your best to withhold your excitement. Your eyes are wide and full of hope as Five lets out a soft chuckle before giving you a reassuring kiss.
“We survived the end of the world several times, how scary could raising a baby really be?”
He isn’t given an answer to his hypothetical question as you fling yourself into his arms and assault his face with multiple kisses along his skin. It’s safe to say his answer has eased your anxieties, and the boy can only laugh as you express your gratitude.
“I’m so happy you agree!” You exclaim giddily, your hands coming to rest upon his chest to ground yourself as you then suggest to Five’s surprise, “Let’s start trying tonight!”
“What?”
~~~
“That has to be the tiniest Hargreeves I’ve ever seen,” Klaus gushes adoringly as he takes in the details of the ultrasound photo in front of him. “Look at the little peanut, isn’t it precious?”
“I can’t believe Five is actually going to be a dad,” Allison notes in astonishment as the three of you turn your gaze to see him arguing with Diego over the proper way to baby proof your home while Ben eggs them on and ruins Luther’s efforts at trying to keep the peace. You’re only two months along, but Five is anxious to ensure that everything is perfect for your child’s arrival.
“You know, you might just be the first 65 year-old woman to give birth,” Klaus points out cheekily. “You should be in a world records book or something.”
“Very funny,” you retort sarcastically before taking back the ultrasound photo to hang up on the fridge. You falter for a moment when your eyes remain stuck to photo and your brain works on overdrive to commit the image to memory as best as you can.
“Everything okay?” Viktor asks after noticing the sudden change in demeanor.
“I just can’t believe this is real,” you murmur quietly, blinking back tears that threaten to spill. “After everything we’ve been through and everything we’ve lost, I guess a part of me worries that one day I’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream.”
“I know how that feels,” Allison assures you with a comforting squeeze to your shoulder. “But I promise you this isn’t a dream, and whatever you need we’ll be there.”
“Because you’re family now,” Viktor adds on with a confident nod. “And we look out for family no matter what.”
“Even though at one point in our lives we’ve all thought about killing each other,” Klaus notes humorously before giving you a tight squeeze.
“Everything okay over here?” Five asks, appearing at your side and placing a comforting hand on your back as you all turn your gazes towards the fridge and admire the newest addition to the family.
“Everything is perfect.”
#request#the umbrella academy#five hargreeves#number five#five#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagine#number five x reader#number five imagine#five x reader#five imagine#tua#tua x reader#tua imagine
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Crawling back to you
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Simmons!Reader Summary: You never planned on having a casual fling with your brother's friend five years ago, nor did you expect him to fall in love with you, which forced you to end things abruptly. But now he's unexpectedly back in your life—older, wiser, and fully intent on winning your heart. Content: (18+) >12k words, reader has commitment issues, he’s the softest softdom i’ve ever written, female oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, a little squirting? teeth rotting fluff and a chaotic ending because who am i without my crack humor A/n: This is for @imagining-in-the-margins FWB writing challenge and somewhat a celebration post for 7k milestone. Idk how that happened but tysm :( I hope you like this as much as I did writing it because matt simmons is so underrated??? I’m also freaking nervous with this i haven’t posted a new fic in a while so please please please be nice i feel like throwing up
Surprise has a way of stopping time. Although you're not sure you can call it that. What you’re experiencing is more than just surprise, it’s the kind of feeling that makes you freeze in place. It’s not just a jolt to the system—it’s a full-body takeover. Your breath catches, your heart skips, and your thoughts scatter like leaves caught in the wind. How could they not, when the last person you expected to see is standing right in front of you, clad in the most questionable clothes?
You almost laugh at how absurd he looks. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie with a tacky “Washington D.C.” print sprawled across the front. It’s baffling why he’s draped in that shapeless thing over his freakishly tall frame, but it’s too hard to focus on something so trivial when you’re still grasping with the reality of seeing him again. You really can’t believe it. Spencer Reid is here. The Spencer Reid.
The guy whose heart you broke five years ago.
You should have seen this coming. In fact, you kind of did, when your brother’s friends came rushing into the hospital room, their voices a chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” as they crowded around the newborn cradled in Kristy’s arms. You exchanged polite greetings when they noticed you—Penelope even pulled you into a tight hug, gushing about how amazing you looked—and thankfully, there was no sign of him.
But you’d almost allowed yourself to believe he wouldn’t show up. When the small space became overly crowded, you stepped out into the waiting room to catch your breath… only to find him standing a few feet away with JJ.
And just like that, all the air seems to vanish from your lungs.
You had a plan, of course. In the back of your mind, you always knew a chance meeting was inevitable, whether you liked it or not. And that plan was simple. You’d offer him a polite smile. Exchange a few words, nothing too personal. You’d be friendly but distant, always make sure to keep the kind of composure that says you’ve moved on, and that the past is just that: the past.
But those well-laid plans seem fragile now, almost naive as you suddenly caught his smile. Now how do you stick to a script when your heart is starting to rewrite all the lines? Or blur the lines specifically, when the past and present merge so seamlessly that you’re reminded of the first time that same smile had charmed you.
You’re suddenly thrown back to that day five years ago, when your brother had thrown a barbecue cookout to celebrate some joint investigation his team had wrapped up. You didn’t know the details—didn’t really care to, if you were honest—but Matt had called you and insisted that you join him.
You hadn't thought much of it at the time. It sounded like another family gathering with a few new faces. But that was the day you met Spencer, and what began as a simple introduction quickly spiraled into something much more complicated. Really complicated. Because as charmed as you were by his smile, he had wanted something more from you when all you could offer him was your body.
So you ran away.
Although not very far, because apparently, he’s standing a few steps away from you, five years later. And the worst part? He’s now very much aware that you’re here. You watch as his jaw slacks open as he takes a double-take. You’re rooted in place. JJ, on the other hand, tugs his sleeve as she notices his demeanor slowly shutting down. She turns around to see what’s caught his attention, and when she spots you, a huge smile spreads across her face.
"Hey! You're here!” You force yourself to look away from him as she moves forward. You reciprocate the hug she throws at you. "How are you?”
You’re not entirely sure how to answer. How do you even explain that your heart just did a triple backflip and landed somewhere near your stomach? Or that you’re seconds away from having an internal existential crisis because, of course, the universe would choose this moment to throw Spencer Reid back into your life?
There's really no good way to sum that up. So instead, you plaster on a smile that probably looks more like a grimace and reply, "Good. I’m good.”
JJ doesn’t seem to notice the strained edges in your voice. “It’s so nice to see you again! How long has it been?”
There’s a moment of silence as you try to gather your thoughts. But before you can respond, Spencer’s voice suddenly cuts through the quiet. It’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s been holding onto this detail for far too long, but every syllable rings in your ears.
"Five years," he says. "Five years, three months, and seventeen days."
Your stomach does another flip. JJ raises her brows, her eyes darting between you and him. You carefully meet her gaze. "Actually, you and I met up last year.”
“Oh, right!” She exclaims, her face lighting up as the memory clicks into place. “You were in town for a conference, right? I totally forgot about that.”
“You were in town last year and you didn’t tell me?”
God, he’s making it terribly hard for you to keep your composure. You throw him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t know you wanted to see me.”
His expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He looks at you as if your words sounds ludicrous to him.
“I always want to see you.”
You can't decide what surprises you more, the fact that he still wants to see you after all these years, or how easily he says it. The words roll off his tongue so casually, so effortlessly, as if the weight of your shared past doesn’t cling to them. And to make matters worse, he's saying this right in front of JJ, who is now staring at him, clearly scrutinizing the significance behind his words.
You quickly shift your attention to her, forcing another smile. "So, are you going to head inside?"
JJ blinks at you. “Oh, yeah, I probably should.” She turns to Spencer and gives him a quick but knowing glance. "See you on Monday, Spence."
You glance at him. “You're not going to see the baby?"
"Spencer’s got something he needs to take care of,” JJ chimes in. There’s a slight edge to her voice, like she knows exactly what that ‘something’ is, but she doesn’t elaborate. She gives him one last look before heading inside.
You catch yourself looking up at him again. “You’re leaving?”
Spencer pauses, studying you carefully, his brow furrowing just slightly like he’s trying to read between the lines of your question.
“I was,” he says softly.
There’s a sudden tightness in your chest. “Right.”
“But now I don’t want to.”
There it goes again, the butterflies in your stomach. This is exactly why you didn’t want to see him. You knew that once you looked into his eyes, heard his voice, it would stir up everything you’ve spent five years trying to bury. You’d told yourself it was better to pretend that whatever happened between you was nothing more than a stupid choice. But now, standing here with him so close, you can feel all those walls you built crumbling down with just a few words.
You finally look at him, like really look at him. It’s impossible not to notice how he’s changed over the past five years. There are faint lines around his eyes now, signs of age that wasn't there before. His hair is longer, a little messier. It curls around his ears in a way that makes him look almost boyish, yet undeniably charming which suits him more than you'd like to admit.
But even with all the changes, his smile—gentle and just a little shy—remains the same. That smile reminds you of a time when things were simpler, where it was enough to convince you that you didn't have to keep your guard up all the time. But then you remember the reason you walked away, and his smile becomes a little harder to look at.
Because while he's changed, grown, matured, so have you, and you're not sure if there's room for the person you are now in the space that once belonged to both of you.
His eyes scan you in the same way you’re assessing him. “You look good.”
Your mouth twitches at his words. You didn’t expect him to be so straightforward. “Thank you.”
“You’re even prettier than I remember.”
The sigh you let out is long and weary. He really knows how to push your buttons.
“Spencer. Don’t.”
“What?”
“You can’t just say things like that after—” You hesitate, crossing your arms. "After everything. What happened to 'Hi, how are you?’. Or maybe something simple like ‘What have you been up to? Anything new?’”
He blinks, clearly taken aback by your abruptness. “Okay. Hi, how are you?”
You cast him a wary glance. “Good.”
"What have you been up to?"
"Work."
"Anything new?"
"No."
He pauses again, his eyes searching yours before he asks, "No new boyfriend?"
You frown. “Huh?”
“Girlfriend?”
"Spencer."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"Spencer."
He smiles sheepishly, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You're right, that was inappropriate. I didn't think I would see you again, it’s throwing me off a bit."
“You didn’t think I would be here for my newborn niece?”
His smile turns into a grimace. "I guess I wasn't thinking clearly." He shifts on his feet, fidgeting with his fingers—a small, familiar tic that you hadn’t seen in years. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
“It’s fine,” you reply, though there’s no real bite to your words. His nervous energy is making it hard to stay annoyed. Your eyes narrow on his oversized hoodie again, the casual, almost careless choice that seems slightly out of character for the Spencer you remember.
He seems to notice you staring so blatantly. “What?”
“You look funny.”
A hint of surprise flashes across his face. “You think I’m funny?”
“Different,” you correct. “Did you raid someone’s closet on your way here or something?”
"Oh… I had to change my clothes. I got wet at the park earlier.”
You glance towards the window with a frown. "It's not even raining."
"I ran through the sprinklers."
The cease on your forehead deepens. Even that sounds so unlike him. Spencer Reid doing something that carefree in public?
“You ran through the sprinklers? Alone?"
You notice his expression shift as the question leaves your lips, something very subtle, but you’ve known him long enough to catch it. The way his eyes flicker, the slight hesitation before he answers, makes it obvious. There’s a hint of something unspoken in the way he looks at you, and suddenly, it all clicks into place.
He wasn’t alone.
You look away. It's ridiculous, you think. To feel this somewhat��� jealous when it should be the last thing on your mind because, really, what right do you have? What you had with him wasn’t even a relationship to begin with. But despite all the logic in the world, you can’t help the pang in your chest, the twist of something bitter and familiar curling in your gut.
"It's not what you think," he slowly says.
You force a small, awkward laugh, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t assuming anything. It’s none of my business, anyway."
"No, really, it's nothing like that." he insists, scrunching his nose in the way he does when he's trying to think. "I mean, I did meet someone at the park, but it’s not like… what you might be thinking. We were just talking, and… and then there were these sprinklers and it wasn’t really planned or anything, then she—well, technically, we weren’t even alone the whole time because there were other people around, and it’s not like we—”
“Spencer, you don’t have to explain—” you begin, but then something dawns on you. “Wait, is this what JJ was referring to? Did you… Did you have plans?”
You notice his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows. "Kind of," he admits. “But it wasn't anything serious. It was just, you know, a casual thing.”
You can't help the way your stomach knots. Casual could mean anything. Maybe a simple coffee between two friends, or even a lighthearted conversation over lunch. But in your experience, at least in the book you and Spencer had written together in the past, casual had always meant sex. And now, hearing him say it about someone else feels like a punch to the gut you hadn't expected.
You suddenly feel foolish for letting your mind go there, for assuming that whatever he meant by casual was the same thing it had meant for the two of you back then. It's been five years, and so much has changed. Maybe casual means something entirely different for him now, and you're the one stuck in the past, reading into things that no longer hold the same weight.
He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression, the way your eyes momentarily cloud over with something you can’t quite hide. He takes a step forward. "It’s really nothing.”
You take a step back. “Even if it is, it’s really not my business.”
“But it’s not,” he urges. He’s suddenly so persistent, and you can’t help but feel the embarrassment gnawing you at how easily he can read your mind. It's one thing to wrestle with these feelings privately, but having them so clearly acknowledged makes it all the more humiliating. You can’t believe you let yourself get so worked up over something that shouldn’t matter this much.
You eye the exit door. “I need to go.”
"Right now?” His brows knit together in confusion. “But your family’s here."
You’ve only spent a few minutes with him and you’re already running away.
"I just remembered I have to take care of… something."
The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, but you don’t wait for his response. You quickly turn on your heel, and when he calls out your name with concern, you force yourself to keep moving, scurrying off down the hallway.
Me: I'm heading back first Big bro: You okay? Me: Bad headache Big Bro: You didn't eat anything, did you?
You scoff. What is it about your brother always zeroing in on eating whenever you complain about feeling off?
Me: You know I did. Just not much Big Bro: That’s what I thought. There’s some leftover dinner in the fridge. And check the second drawer in the kitchen, there should be some ibuprofen Me: Yes, Dad Big Bro: Don’t get smart with me Me: 🫡 Big Bro: Drink lots of water Me: Yes, sir. Anything else on your mind while you’re giving out parental advice? Big Bro: I’m just trying to keep myself from dragging you out of my house if you collapse Me: 🙄 Big Bro: The kids are staying with Kristy’s parents, I’ll drop by tomorrow morning Me: Okay Big Bro: Call me if you need anything
You toss your phone down on the bed, then let out the most exasperated sigh. Spending your Saturday night in your brother’s guest room is the last thing you expect to be doing, let alone faking a headache just to avoid confronting a situationship from the past. You honestly thought you’d outgrown this kind of avoidance, but here you are, slipping back into old habits as if no time has passed at all.
Ironically, your mind stumbles into the past, and you remember a conversation you once had with Spencer. It was during one of those nights when you both were tangled in each other’s arms. You could faintly remember the conversation started with him talking about his work.
He never actually told you the details of his cases, but he liked to share his thoughts on the different complexities of the human mind. And on that particular night, he was rambling about the psychological concept of avoidance, which he claimed to have detected the first time he spotted the bad guy. He went on at how people often retreat into familiar behaviors to protect themselves from discomfort.
At the time, you had brushed it off with a joke, teasing him about overanalyzing everything when the situation had already played out. But now the irony isn’t lost on you. You’re doing exactly what he once explained. It’s almost laughable if it didn’t sting so much to realize how right he was.
A sharp ding from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, and one glance at it tells you exactly who’s messaging. The name on the screen makes your chest tighten, but you don’t even give yourself a moment to consider responding. You quickly turn the phone to silent, push yourself off the bed, and head straight for the kitchen. True to your brother’s words, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge, but the idea of reheating it doesn’t seem appealing to you.
You reach for the bottle of wine instead.
The red liquor tastes like butter, or something close to it. It’s similar in the way the liquid melts over your tongue, spreading warmth through your chest and settling comfortably in your belly. By the time you're sipping the second glass, you feel more relaxed, but then the sharp sound of the doorbell ringing cuts through the calm.
You glance at the door from the position of the couch. You have a strong feeling about who it is. But as much as you're sure of the who, what really gnaws at you is the why.
You hesitantly make your way toward the door, and sure enough, when you pull it open, Spencer is standing at your brother’s doorstep. The corner of his lips turns upward in an awkward, almost apologetic half-smile as if he’s unsure of how to begin or whether he should even be there in the first place.
You lean against the doorframe. “Did Matt tell you I was here?”
He gives you a pointed look, his eyebrows raising slightly. “No, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.” You throw him the same questioning look, and he explains, “This is the only place you’d stay in town because not only do you hate staying alone at a hotel, but Matt wouldn’t let you even if you tried.”
You can’t believe he still remembers your offhand comment about sterile hotel rooms. It’s one of the reasons you used to prefer staying at his apartment whenever you were in town.
“Why are you here anyway?” You ask. “I thought you had plans.”
He pauses for moment as if deciding how much to say. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in? I’d rather explain it inside.”
"I don't think you owe me any explanations about what you do with your time," you reply, crossing your arms.
"Maybe I don't owe it, but I want to give it.”
“Which isn’t necessary.”
“But appreciated, I hope.”
You find yourself caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You tell yourself not to read too much into it, but there's a part of you that can't help but soften at his words. Maybe it's the way his eyes reminds you of melted chocolate as he stares at you that makes you want to let him in, despite your better judgment.
You pull the door open. “Fine, but take your shoes off. Kristy’s very serious about hygiene.”
He does as he’s told and tucks away his shoes on the rack by the door.
“Do you want anything to drink?”
He shakes his head slightly, offering a small smile. "I'm good, thanks."
You nod and gesture toward the living room. He follows you, and as you both approach the couch, he instinctively moves to the far end, settling down cautiously as if not wanting to invade your space. You take a seat on the opposite end.
“So, what do you want to talk about?”
He leans back slightly, resting his hands on his knees. You can tell he's trying to gauge your mood, figure out how much to push and when to hold back. "Do you remember when we went on that date at the street fair?"
You frown, remembering how you had missed your bus home in one of your trips here and ended up wandering at the fair with him. “That wasn’t a date.”
"Fine. Do you remember when we went to the street fair together not on a date?"
“I remember."
His shoulders relax a bit at your response. “You spent ages deciding what to eat and you ended up choosing that little Korean stall in the corner. We had to walk a bit further to get there even when your shoes were hurting you.”
You think back, internally scolding yourself for wearing those damn boots that day. “You thought I was being ridiculous.”
"I didn't think it was ridiculous. I just didn't get it at first. Your feet were practically covered in blisters."
"I really wanted kimchi."
"I could tell, and it took me a while to understand why you went through all that trouble. Now I do.”
You glance at him, sensing there's more behind his words. “Why are you bringing this up?"
He meets your gaze. His brown eyes looking a little more golden underneath the dim light. "I guess this is me choosing.”
“That you’re craving for Korean?”
He gives a soft, genuine laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Not exactly,” he says and leans a little closer. “What I’m trying to say is, that’s how I feel right now. I'm here because I want to be, not because it's convenient, but because it’s you.”
There’s a subtle flutter in your chest, and your skin prickles with a familiar warmth as he speaks. Your heart beats a little faster, not enough to be alarming, but just enough to remind you that you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be. You can feel your palms start to sweat, and there’s that almost imperceptible hitch in your breathing that you hope he doesn’t notice.
“Spencer…” You don’t even know how to start. “It’s been five years."
He nods slowly. “I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do. A lot of has changed since the last time we saw each another, and you’re here acting like we both separated on good terms? Don't you hate me?”
His brow furrows slightly. “Why would I hate you?”
“Because I broke your heart. I—" Your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words. "The moment you told me you were falling in love with me, I... I ran. I couldn’t handle it. I pushed you away like a coward.”
“You weren't a coward, you were scared. And maybe I didn’t understand that back then, but I do now.”
You shake your head. “But I hurt you.”
The sigh he lets out is heavy, yet there's something deceptively calm about it, almost as if he’s already made peace with the past. “You did what you thought you had to do, and sure, it hurt. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I realized that I don’t blame you for needing space. It wasn’t about me not being enough, it was about you needing to protect yourself.”
His words start to chip away at the wall you’ve built around your heart. “I thought you’d hate me,” you admit quietly.
“I could never hate you."
You lower your gaze, your fingers fiddling nervously with the edge of the cushion. “Alright, let’s say you choose me. Now what? What is it that you want?”
He pauses for a moment, his fingers curled into his palms. He looks away briefly, taking a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts, then returns his gaze to you. “I want another chance.”
If you were surprised to see him at the hospital earlier, this is something entirely different. There’s something akin to panic fluttering in your chest. It’s amusing, really, how the human body reacts before the mind fully comprehends as if your heart knows what’s coming before you do. You can feel it in the way your breath catches, in the way your stomach knots with a nervous energy you can’t quite shake. Because how do you even react to that?
You finally turn to face him, leaning your head against the back of the couch. This moment feels like some sort of déjà vu, and just like the last time, your mind is already bracing itself, preparing to give him the same answer you did back then.
“You know it’s never going to work.”
He mirrors you, but instead of the frustration or sadness you half-expected, there’s a gentle smile on his lips. “You sound so sure.”
“That’s because I am,” you reply. “I know what you’re asking for right now, and we don’t function like that. Not in the past, at least.”
“How did we function?”
“Based on sex.”
“And what do you think I’m asking for now?”
“More than sex, which isn’t going to work."
“Why not?”
“Because—” you start, but the words catch in your throat. You’re not even sure how to explain. The fears, the doubts, the past... all of it feels too big, too overwhelming to articulate in a way that makes sense.
“Because the idea still terrifies you?”
You frown, caught off guard by the directness of his question. “No.”
The smile stretches even more across his face. “Then give me one good reason why you think so.”
"Oh I can name a few."
He studies you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to read every thought racing through your mind. “Let’s make a deal then. You give me those reasons why we can’t work, and I’ll give you reasons why we can.”
You’re quiet for a moment, considering his offer. It’s bold, almost reckless, and yet... there’s something in his eyes that makes you want to accept the challenge.
"And if your reasons aren’t good enough?"
“Then we’ll deal with that when we come to it,” he replies softly. “But I’m willing to bet we won’t have to.”
"You really think you can convince me?"
"I can try." He leans a little closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body. "So, what’s your first reason?"
That’s too easy, too obvious. “You’re one of my brother’s closest friends,” you point out. “What happens if this doesn’t work out? I don’t want to put him, or us, in that position.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “That didn’t stop us in the past.”
You scoff. “Spencer, we were sneaking around behind his back. It’s not exactly the same thing. This… whatever this is, it would be out in the open, and that’s a whole different level of complicated.”
“It would be different, yes. But that doesn’t mean it has to be a problem. If anything, it shows how serious we were then, and how serious we could be now.” You scrunch your nose at his response. “Now what’s next on your list?”
"Uhh.. the distance! You’re in D.C., and I’m not. It’s not like I can just drop everything and move closer.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re a three-hour drive away, maybe two if I take the expressway. And honestly, with how much we both travel for work, I don’t see how that’s an issue.”
His reasoning is so undeniably logical you feel a flicker of annoyance, not at him, but at how easily he’s dismantling your arguments.
“You didn’t even want to visit me back then.”
"You were the one who didn't want me to. You kept saying it was easier for you to come here.”
His words hit harder than you expect. You remember all the times you insisted on making the trips yourself. You'd convinced yourself it was about convenience, but with him calling you out on it, you realize it wasn't about convenience at all. It was about keeping things on your terms, maintaining a safe distance even when that distance wasn't physical.
"Well, I had more flexible hours," you claim. The excuse is flimsy, and the way Spencer looks at you—patient, but not fooled—makes it clear that he sees right through it.
You try to think of your next reason, although the words seem to get stuck before they even form. You know you can easily rattle off more excuses, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it harder than it should be.
“That’s it? You’ve only thought of two? I was expecting a bit more of a challenge.”
You scowl at him. "I didn’t say I was done."
"Take your time," he comments, leaning back slightly, still wearing that infuriatingly patient smile.
You huff softly, trying to regain your footing. "Okay, how about this? Sex."
There's a beat of silence. "What about sex?"
You feel the words forming, but they sound ridiculous even in your own mind. Still, you force them out of your mouth. Your subconscious is urging you to come up with more excuses to keep him at arm’s length. "That was all that we had. What if… what if we just fall back into the same patterns?"
“Don't you think that's a reason why we can work? If we were only ever about sex and we're still here, doesn't that show there's something more between us?"
“Or it just means we had a strong physical connection. That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s something more.”
“You really believe that? That all we had was just physical?”
“Yes,” you retort, though the confidence in your voice wavers slightly. Your eyes flicker away for a split second before you meet his gaze again. “That’s all it ever was and I don’t know if it can turn into something you’re trying to imply.”
He lets out a low, amused sound, as the corners of his mouth twitches upward. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m being realistic,” you shoot back. “What if we try, and it doesn’t work? What if everything falls apart because we weren’t good at anything but the sex?”
His eyes light up, and suddenly he’s wearing the most boyish grin you’ve ever seen on him. “So you're admitting the sex was good?"
You stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“You know what I mean. What we had was...” Wild? Passionate? Crazy-hot-mind-blowing sex? “…intense. But intensity isn't enough for a relationship. What if the rest of it doesn't hold up?"
He leans in closer, his hand hovering near yours on the couch.
“But what if it does?”
All you can do is stare at him.
“You’re giving me all these reasons to push me away again,” he continues. “But I’m here because I’m not afraid of those doubts. I’ve always wanted to give you more than what we had because you deserve something real. I want us to be real this time, and I think you do too, even if you’re scared to admit it.”
His words are affecting you more than you like to admit. You can slowly feel it in the tension building between you, it’s surprisingly not the uncomfortable kind, but the sort that pulls you in, that makes you want to move closer even though every instinct tells you to stay put.
And then it happens. You feel a slight tremor in your leg, an involuntary movement that causes it to brush against his. The contact is so light it's almost like it didn't happen at all, but it did. He notices—Of course he does—and now there’s a certain gentleness in his gaze like he knows exactly what's going on inside your head. He doesn't push, doesn't rush, just watches you with those impossibly kind eyes.
And in the softest, most careful voice, he asks, “Can I move closer?"
Your heart is pounding now, the rhythm echoing in your ears, in your chest, in the pulse at your throat. The sensation travels downward, a slow, steady beat that moves through your body, inching its way down your spine, tightening in your stomach before it settles low in your abdomen. It’s a heat that spreads outward until it reaches your core, leaving you acutely aware of every inch of space between you and him—and how much you want to close that distance.
You find yourself nodding. He shifts closer. “Can I touch you?”
You really want to say something witty, something that might deflect from the weight of the situation, but the words won’t come out. You can only manage another nod. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you every opportunity to pull back. But you don’t. You can’t. You’re rooted in place as his hand reaches for you.
His palm gently rests on your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed against your consciousness, and the tension that’s been coiling in your chest slowly unwinds, replaced by a sense of calm. When his thumb slides across your cheek, he speaks again. His voice is so close it's as if the words themselves are brushing over your lips.
"Can I kiss you?"
You inhale sharply. The word "Yes" hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you don't need to say it out loud. He can already see the answer in the way you’re leaning into him, and his mouth is on yours in an instant.
The reality is, you’ve kissed Spencer before. Plenty of times, actually. You know the feel of his lips, the way they can be both gentle and demanding, the way he tastes faintly of coffee or something sweet when he’s had a treat. You also think back to those hurried kisses in the past when time was short and the world was pressing down on you. Or the playful pecks that came with laughter. Even the desperate, heated moments when the need to feel something, anything, was too overwhelming to resist.
This kiss, however, isn’t like any of those. This one is slow, and achingly tender. His movements are unhurried. The way his lips glide over yours carries a deep sense of care, like he’s trying to memorize every soft curve. Just as you begin to melt in his arms, he pulls away slightly, not very far, but enough to hover close that you can still feel the heat of his breath on your lips.
There’s a tense silence as the tip of his nose brushes gently against your cheek. You can tell he’s giving you the space to decide what happens next, and there are a lot of scenarios running in your head. You could push him away, repeating history all over again. You could be in denial and pretend all of this never even happened. But something inside you snaps.
Maybe it’s the way he’s holding back, so gentle, so careful, too afraid of pushing too far. Or maybe it’s the realization that you don’t want him to hold back, that you need more, that you’re tired of resisting what you’ve both been dancing around for so long. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer.
He tenses for a moment, but the hesitation is gone almost as soon as it appears. His mouth finds yours again, and he lets out a deep, relieved sigh. You feel the soft, insistent push of his tongue against the seam of your lips. You hold onto him, parting your mouth eagerly before he slips his tongue with a desperation that catches you off guard.
Then his hands seem to be everywhere all at once, tracing the curve of your spine, sliding down to the small of your back, and brushing along the edge of your jaw. His fingers then tangle in your hair, tugging gently while his other hand skims over your waist. But when his hand slips inside your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your soft skin, you slowly pull away. “W-Wait.”
His eyes widen slightly, and you can feel the shift in his body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no,” you say quickly, tugging him closer again. “I just… I think we should continue this conversation somewhere more… private?”
He pauses for a moment. “Really?”
“If you want to.”
A subtle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are you trying to seduce me for sex?”
You’re oscillating between being incredibly turned on and equally mortified. In a sense, yes, that’s what you’re asking. But you didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. You don’t think he’s ever been this direct in the past, and now you’re wondering if you missed something before, or if he’s just tapped into a level of confidence you’re struggling to keep up with.
“Would it be inappropriate if I said that I am?” you ask hesitantly, and you can’t help but wince a little as the words leave your mouth.
“Since when have you been worried about being inappropriate with me?”
“Well, Spencer, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a five-year gap since the last time we slept together.”
His hand on your waist tightens slightly. “Five years too long, if you ask me.” Then he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. “You do realize this is you giving me a second chance, right?"
In a way, you do. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that you were better off keeping your distance. Walking away in the past was easy, but now… now it feels different. The years have stretched on, and the excuses you’ve made have started to wear thin. Especially when just being near him is starting to stir memories you thought you’d buried—some good, some less so—but all intense, all Spencer.
Maybe he's right. Maybe five years is too long to pretend that whatever was between you didn't matter.
You slowly meet his gaze. “I realize.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
You hesitate, not out of doubt, but because of the sheer gravity of what you're about to say.
"Maybe."
His sigh is audible when he hears your answer, and without missing a beat, he brushes the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on your lips. “Maybe is good.” Kiss. “I can take—” Kiss. Kiss. “—maybe.”
You think you should say something more, but all coherent thoughts scatter the instant his lips meet yours again. You return his kisses, hesitant at first, but quickly falling into a rhythm that feels achingly familiar. It doesn’t take long until his lips move into something more urgent. There’s a hunger there, a pent-up longing that he can no longer hold back. His tongue flicks against yours, teasing, coaxing, and you know you need to stop him before he starts to undress you right there on the couch.
You reluctantly pull back. “Bedroom. Now.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls you to your feet, and you’re practically dragging him to the guest bedroom. When the door closes behind you, he’s quick to guide you toward the bed, his hands firm on your hips as he steers you backward. The moment your legs hit the edge of the bed, he pauses, his hands lingering on your waist, and for a moment, he just looks at you.
“Having second thoughts?” You tease. The sarcasm drips sweetly in your voice, knowing full well he’s been trying to win your heart the entire evening.
“No,” he mutters. “I’m trying to see if you are.”
You draw back from his arms just enough to climb onto the bed and lay down in the middle. “Does it look like I am?”
He shakes his head with that cute, bashful smile. Although there’s nothing bashful about the way he pulls off his hoodie and tosses it carelessly onto the floor. The shirt underneath is crumpled, and his hair is even messier, sticking up in ways that make you want to run your hands through it.
“Come here,” you motion for him. Without hesitation, he crawls between your legs and leans in for another kiss. His hair feels like the smoothest silk when you finally reach for it. There’s a slight dampness from the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way it curls just slightly at the ends, brushing against your forehead as he dips his head to capture your mouth.
You don’t think you can ever get tired of kissing him. There’s a familiarity in the way he moves. His lips mold perfectly to yours, soft yet demanding, as if he knows exactly how to draw out the deepest parts of your desire. And you feel it everywhere. In your pulse, in your veins, all the way down to the spot between your legs.
It intensifies even more when his lips begin to trail down your neck. You feel the first warm rush of arousal pooling in your panties when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, the fluttering veins below your jaw with so much intensity as if he's taking every one of your heartbeats for himself. Your grip tightens in his hair as he marks another spot near your collarbone.
“I’ve missed this so much,” he murmurs as he slowly nips down your neck. “I’ve missed you.”
You can only hum a reply, your voice catching in your throat as your head starts to spin from the way his hands are now trailing down your side. He reaches the hem of your shirt and pauses, fingers lightly tugging at the fabric.
“Can I take this off?” He asks, pulling back slightly just enough to look down at you. With his messy hair falling into his glossy brown eyes and swollen wet lips, how can you possibly say no to him?
Without a second thought, you nod, your fingers already moving to help him with the fabric. His eyes never leave yours as he slowly lifts your shirt. It slides up over your skin, and you raise your arms to let him pull it off completely, tossing it aside without a care. Your bra comes off next, and when that follows to the floor, his eyes sweep over your body.
There’s a certain look in his gaze. Devotion would be too strong of a word, but it’s something close—something softer, yet just as intense. You’ve seen desire before, felt it in fleeting touches and heated glances, but this is different. This feels different. It’s as if his gaze is reaching into the spaces between your thoughts, gently pulling at the threads that hold you together to unravel you in the most tender of ways.
He kisses the spot between your breasts.
“You’re always so pretty.”
He gives a soft peck just above your heart.
“So incredibly beautiful.”
Then his tongue flicks along the delicate curve of your chest, making a slow, teasing trail upward until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks gently, rolling it around with his tongue, and you’re mesmerized by the lewd scene of him drawing your flesh between his lips. Your fingers instinctively find their way back into his hair, tugging on the soft strands as he continues to lap at your sensitive skin.
He then shifts slightly, his mouth releasing your nipple with a soft, wet sound before moving to give the same attention to the other. While he suckles and nibbles on one hardened peak, he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger, sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core. If you thought you were wet before, you’re certain you’re drenched by now. Your panties cling uncomfortably and the growing desire makes you ache to peel them off.
He must sense your growing need because his kisses trail lower, down to your stomach, while his fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings. His touch is teasing, slipping just under the elastic, and you instinctively lift your hips, silently begging for more. He takes his time as he slides the fabric down your legs, his knuckles brushing against your skin before discarding them somewhere in the room.
Your attention is on him as his palm dances along your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to where you ache him the most, the more your breath hitches in your throat. When his thumb brushes over the wet patch on your panties, your hips buck against him. “Spencer…”
He glances over at you and lets out the most appreciative sigh. You really are beautiful. Eyes full of lust, skin flushed with his marks. You’re a vision of longing, and every part of him is consumed by the sight of you. “Yes?”
You squirm under his gaze. “Aren’t you… going to take them off?”
A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “What, these?” He gives a playful tug at the edge of your panties, his fingers just barely slipping beneath the fabric before pulling away. “Are you sure you want them off?”
You try to hold back your groan when his thumb finds your clit. “Yes. I-I’m sure.”
He grins, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, but instead of giving in immediately, he begins to circle your clit slowly with his thumb, watching your reaction closely. “On a scale from one to ten, how sure are you?”
Now he’s starting to get on your nerves. You can’t hold back the small huff falling from your lips. He simply laughs then slowly takes off the last piece of your clothing. The cool air instantly hits your skin as he grabs your knees, spreading your legs apart. He skims along your naked body and when you notice where his gaze settles, you swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy.
It's kind of ironic, you think, how you've gotten this far, and now, of all times, you're suddenly blushing like a damn teenager. It's as if your brain is catching up to everything your body already knows—that this is real, and it's happening. You can't help but laugh at yourself a little. Here you are, all tangled up in each other, practically begging him to get you naked and yet you're acting shy now?
He seems to notice the shift in your mood, his hands pausing on your thighs as he looks up at you with concern. He tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Did I do something wrong?”
You quickly shake your head. “I’m suddenly feeling very self-conscious.”
He studies your face for a moment. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” you blurt out, more forcefully than you intended, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab his wrist. “I… I guess I’m not used to feeling this exposed in front of you.”
He shifts slightly, moving closer so he’s eye-level with you, his hands still resting gently on your thighs. “We’ve done this countless times before.”
“I know, but that was years ago. Things feel different now… like there’s more at stake, maybe?” You let out a sigh. “It’s silly.”
“It’s not silly,” he reassures you. He soothes the skin behind your thighs. “But you don’t need to feel self-conscious with me. You’re beautiful, and I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel.”
If he keeps talking to you like that, there’s no doubt you’ll end up giving him your heart on a silver platter by the end of this. He shifts lower down your body. “We can go as slow as you want,” he continues, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another. “Just tell me what you need.”
You take a deep breath as his soft stubble grazes your skin. “I need you.”
“Then you’ll have me.”
You watch with heavy lids as he drags his lips along your skin until he presses the most tender kiss on your cunt. He really wasn’t lying when he said he could go as slow as you want because every kiss is achingly gentle, barely more than a feather-light touch. It’s the kind of softness that makes you writhe beneath him, and before you know it, your fingers are tangling in his curls while your hips buck against his face.
There’s a slight vibration on your skin—it could be his laughter, or maybe just a hum of contentment—but you don’t bother deciphering it. You’re too lost in the sensation as his tongue breaches your folds. You peer down and watch as he trails the tip of his tongue through your wetness, slowly tracing up and down your slit until he flicks it against your clit.
You’re honestly gone after that. You’re not surprised, though. If there’s one thing Spencer Reid is good at, it’s knowing exactly how to use his mouth. Sure, he’s a bona fide genius who spouts off random facts and quotes obscure literature, but his mouth? His mouth is a whole different level of expertise. It’s almost unfair how good he is. It’s like he’s studied you, memorized every little thing that makes you go crazy, and now he’s putting all that knowledge to devastatingly good use.
And it’s not like he’s doing it just for your pleasure. It brings him the same deep satisfaction. His eyes are closed, and he seems to lose himself in the act, savoring every taste, every reaction, every subtle shift of your body beneath him. It’s as though he’s completely immersed in finding an almost insatiable need to drink in everything about you. His tongue delves deeper, swirling around your entrance before sucking gently on your folds, pulling the soft skin into his mouth.
You find yourself pressing his head closer to your heat. His eyes flickers up to you. “You’re back.” Your response is simply another push of his head. “Oh. Needy, are we now?”
"Mhm," you manage to squeak out, feeling a rush of wetness seeping out of you. He leans in, his tongue catching a bead of moisture before it drips further, dragging it between your slick folds.
Your grip in his hair tightens.
“Spencer…”
“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smile before his mouth descends again, this time focusing on your clit. His tongue flicks over the sensitive nub before he gently sucks, pulling it into his mouth with a slow rhythm that has you gasping. Each motion is perfectly timed and you feel yourself growing even wetter under his attention. His tongue swirls, then flattens before he sucks a little harder.
It doesn’t take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your stomach. The pleasure builds steadily, the tension winding tighter and tighter until it slowly overwhelms you. Spencer seems to sense it too, his hands gripping the back of your thighs a little tighter, pushing them further apart as he continues with unwavering focus. He’s not rushing, though, he’s savoring it, but his slow motion is enough to make you snap.
Your hips jerk against his mouth, and he doesn’t miss a beat, holding you steady as he continues his ministrations. He’s relentless in his gentleness, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you, even as you’re left gasping for air. When you finally come down from the high, Spencer finally lifts his head and places a final, soft kiss on your inner thigh.
“Do you still feel self-conscious now?”
It takes you a moment before you can answer. You smile lazily at him. “Not after that.”
He grins and pulls you up into a sitting position. “Do you think you can give me another one?”
“Spencer,” you breathe out. “Even if you gave me thousands of orgasms, I’d probably ask for more.”
The laugh he lets out is warm and infectious, the sound vibrating through you in a way that makes you smile even wider. “Well,” he starts, slipping his hand down your thigh. “The human body is capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in a relatively short period of time, especially for women. So technically, you could keep asking for more, and I could keep giving them.”
“Even up to a thousand?”
“Maybe not to that extent.” He pulls you close, and you lean your weight against him. “Hold on to me.”
You do as you’re told and somehow you find yourself in a new position. When he spreads your legs apart, your senses go on high alert again. “Spence?”
He kisses your cheek, your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. “Try to relax.”
A gasp escapes your lips as his fingers dive between your thighs. Try to relax? Try to relax? Men and their audacity to tell you what to do, especially when they're the reason you're so wound up in the first place. Because how are you supposed to relax when his fingertips are brushing ever so gently over your clit? How are you supposed to calm your breathing when he’s spreading your arousal up and down your folds?
And how are you supposed to keep your composure when he suddenly fills you with, not one, but two of his fingers?
You feel yourself slipping and he tightens his other arm around your waist. “Told you to hold on.”
He’s starting to annoy you, but you listen to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You take a deep breath as he starts to move his fingers. Soap, you decide. It must be his soap, because he smells clean and crisp, almost like fresh linen and a hint of something peppery. It’s almost distracting if it weren’t for the way his fingers are curling inside of you.
Then you feel that sensation again, the kind that ripples through every nerve of your body. At first, it’s manageable, an intensity you think you can handle. But when he suddenly changes his technique, everything shifts. His entire hand moves in a fast, up-and-down motion that catches you completely off guard, and before you know it, you’re whining, your grip tightening on him as your head falls on his shoulder.
The rapid pace makes your head spin. It feels like he’s pulling the control right out of your hands, leaving you questioning your own limits. You’ve seen yourself getting wet, you’ve felt yourself become drenched before, but you’ve never experienced anything like this. You never realized your body could produce this much liquid. It’s not an overwhelming amount, but more than you’ve ever seen from yourself, and it splatters against his hand, dripping down your thighs.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch when your nails claw into his shirt. He keeps going, and going, and going, until the only thing you hear is your rapid breathing against his neck and the slick, wet sounds he’s coaxing out of you. You’re overwhelmed (in the best way, of course) but you can’t stop yourself from cursing as the sensation intensifies, multiplies even.
It's not until your body starts to go limp that he finally takes pity on you. He slows down, his fingers pumping lazily inside you. “Good?”
“How did you—when did you—” you exhale a long breath. “I can’t feel my legs.”
He slowly withdraws his fingers out, only to rub your essence over your puffy clit, and your hips jerk once more before he finally stops. You're a trembling mess once you sink into the mattress.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you do that before.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life.” Your eyes suddenly feel incredibly heavy that you can't resist letting them flutter close.
He kisses the tip of your nose. “Still up for another one?”
You peer through one eye, and when you catch him starting to undress himself, your other eye shoots open. The nod you give him is eager. His smile widens as he shrugs off his shirt, and you can’t help but let your gaze drop to the line of hair trailing down his stomach. You wonder what it would feel like under your tongue.
"Wait."
Your eyes snap back up to meet his. "What?"
His face twists into a grimace. “I don’t have a condom.”
Shit. Neither did you.
You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow and resting your head in your hand. “And you’re realizing this just now?”
“I was too focused with you."
And by that, he means giving you the most intense orgasm of your life. You watch as his fingers hover over his belt. “You really didn’t think of bringing one when you decided to come over?”
“My intention coming here wasn’t exactly for this.”
“Well, it would be great if you at least considered the possibility." You study his face and blurt out the first thing on your mind, “I don’t want to stop.”
He shifts his weight on the bed. “Me neither.”
“I mean… we could have sex without using one. We’ve done it before. Once.”
He recalls what you're referring to and lets out an amused laugh. “Are you sure? Didn’t you freak out when you realized your period was late?”
“That was a coincidence! I was stressed out at that time, but I’m safe now—I think.” You pause, brows furrowing as you start calculating your cycle in your head. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not ovulating.”
“Pretty sure?”
You give him a look. “No, I’m actually sure. I know my body, and I’ve done the math. See?” You gesture vaguely, as if the numbers and facts are floating in front of you. “No ovulation in sight.”
The corners of his mouth twitches into a smile. “Alright then,” he murmurs, and leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “No ovulation in sight.”
“None,” you confirm before tugging his belt. “Can you please take off your pants now?”
He complies—with incredible speed—and when he’s finally as naked as you, your mouth waters at the sight of him. His cock is painfully hard, thick, with a bead of arousal glistening at the tip. You try to reach for him, but he has other plans. He crawls over your body and slips between your legs. He then grips the back of your thigh with one hand, pulling it up slightly to open you to him, while the other holds himself from the base.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The moan you let out is lewd. “Fuck, Spencer.”
An airy laugh slips out from him as he rubs the head of his cock around your clit. “So needy.”
You wiggle your hips. “Hurry up.”
He only hums in response, before easing his hips back just enough to drag his swollen tip through your slick outer lips. The underside of his cock splits your folds open with each stroke, and your head is spinning. It’s almost sweet how he’s taking this slow, but at this point, you’re so close to just shoving him inside you. You let out a frustrated whine when he pulls back, only to thrust forward just enough for the head of his cock to nudge at your entrance.
Your walls squeeze around him.
“O-Oh…” His mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where your bodies meet. “I… I don’t remember you being this tight.”
You follow his gaze, watching the way your outer lips swallow him inch by inch. “I-It’s been a while.”
He pushes further, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he stretches you in a way that feels almost too much, and you can't help but tense when he thrusts further. He wraps your leg around his waist before leaning down, propping his weight on his elbows.
“Need you to relax,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the pulse fluttering wildly in your neck. You do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Clench, unclench. And then you feel him easing inside you, oh-so-deliciously slow, until you squeak out a gasp when he finally fills you completely.
Because fuck, he stretches you—wrenches you open, and you’re consumed by his heat, the pressure, the sheer size of him. It overwhelms your senses, and all you can do is sing out a filthy moan. He follows your tune with a melody of his own, though his voice trembles, sounding more like he’s in pain as if he’s trying to hold himself back.
“You’re so warm,” he groans, his breath hot against your skin. “You okay?”
You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “More than okay.”
“Do you think I can move?”
“Please.”
There’s no hesitation in the way he pulls back, only to sink into you again. His hips roll against yours in a way that feels both achingly slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second to memorize the way you feel around him. It’s like he can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re giving him the chance to be tangled up with you in this position again.
And truthfully, neither can you.
But here you are, two bodies moving in perfect harmony, intertwined in the most primal, human way. Flesh against flesh, breath against breath. Even your heartbeats sync in the same rhythm. The world beyond seems to dissolve, leaving nothing but the pull of desire that draws you deeper into the moment, into him, until the boundaries of where you end and he begins blur into something undefinable.
It’s nonexistent. You’re glued to him, fused in a way that feels as if this is exactly where you belong.
No more running away, you decide.
“Kiss me.”
He’s in no position to decline, and within a heartbeat, he captures your lips in the sweetest kiss—well, as sweet as it can go. Because even though he tastes like honeyed warmth, his hips continue to pound into you, hitting that deep, tender spot inside. You whine against his lips. A needy, breathless sound that has him faltering for just a second, his hips stuttering against yours.
“You feel so—” he chokes on his words. “God, you’re so perfect.”
You’re perfect, you want to say, but you stop yourself, biting down on the words before they escape. It’s not that you don’t believe it. You just can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. Not yet. Instead, your need wins out, pushing past everything else.
“More,” you gasp between shallow breaths.
He rests his forehead against yours. “Yeah? You want me to go faster?”
You whine in approval.
The instant he pulls back, his tip barely teasing your entrance before slamming into you again, a sharp gasp escapes your lips. He repeats the motion. Once. Twice. By the third time, he doesn’t hold back, driving his hips hard and fast, the wet sound of your bodies slapping together echoing off the walls.
You turn into a putty mess. You can barely think, let alone form words, your mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of him—inside you, around you. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, to the way he fills you so perfectly. His forehead stays pressed against yours the whole time, his lips hovering above yours he murmurs, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
But it’s not. It’s everything. Maybe even not enough. “I…” you gasp when a certain angle from him hits a deep spot inside you. “Oh, Spencer… harder, p-please.”
He’s more than happy to oblige.
He shifts slightly, then snaps his hips forward with a sudden, forceful thrust. He repeats the motion. Over and over again. His pace is relentless now, and he starts to pant, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts, every exhale brushing against your lips. There’s a tension in his body, a taut strain in muscles, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. And you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth, swallowing each of his gasps as his control starts to slip away.
“Where do you want—” His voice falters. “Can I—inside—”
You nod frantically. “Yes. Yes.”
It’s enough to push you both over the edge.
The sensation starts as a gentle warmth in your fingertips, slowly winding its way through your body. It weaves through your limbs, spirals up your spine, before gathering intensely at your core. You’re shaking, trembling, and you instinctively reach out for something to ground yourself. One hand threads into his curls, the other clutches his jaw.
Then it happens. His cock moves in a frantic rhythm, sending you spiraling deeper into intense pleasure for the third time tonight. Your inner walls tighten around him as your orgasm crashes through you, gripping him so tightly that it pulls a raw, breathless groan from his lips. He slams into you with uneven thrusts as he presses your body flat onto the bed, until he stops and shudders, spilling hot, white liquid deep inside you.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt something this intense before—not even with him in the past. Every inch of your body is buzzing as his warmth spreads through you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed. You cling to him, your nails softly grazing his back as he finally lets out a satisfied hum, his lips moving to pepper kisses along your face.
He starts with your left cheek. Two gentle kisses. He moves to your right, giving a light peck that lingers just a moment longer, almost as if he’s blowing a warm breath against your skin. You giggle as the air tickles you. Then finally, he settles on your lips with a sigh that merges into a kiss. It’s soft, sweet, and tenderly slow.
You let out another laugh when he finally pulls away.
“What?”
His curls fall messily on his forehead and you reach up, brushing it back. “You’re starting to grow on me.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “I grow on you?” You simply nod. “Like fungus?”
Your fingers pause in his hair. “Like what?”
"You know, fungus. It grows on things. Like mold or mushrooms,” he explains and gives you a smile. "Am I growing on you like that?"
You’ve been apart for so long that you almost forgot how his brain works. His unexpected comparison sparks your amusement, so you decide to humor him. “Depends on what kind of mushroom you are.”
He looks thoughtful for a while. “There's this mushroom called mycorrhiza. It forms a symbiotic relationship with trees and helps them grow by improving water and nutrient absorption."
“And that makes you what, exactly?”
“Essentially indispensable.”
“So you’re claiming you’re good for me?”
A slow, confident grin spreads across his lips. “I’m saying I’m exactly what you need.”
You burst out laughing. Your cheeks might actually ache from smiling this much. “That was pretty smooth.”
He looks incredibly pleased with himself. Then after a quiet moment, he buries his face in the curve of your neck. You close your eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and a sigh escapes your lips. It’s like all the time you spent apart melts away in that single breath, and something inside you relaxes, as if he’s managed to sneak back into the parts of you you’d forgotten existed.
Maybe he is right. Maybe, after all this time, he’s exactly what you need.
You wake up to the sound of clatter. It’s loud, jarring, and it echoes around the house. You stir in bed, stretching your limbs before tensing when you feel something poking your back. Your hazy mind immediately snaps into alert, and you open your eyes fully, glancing toward the window. Sunlight is already pouring into the room, far too bright for how early you thought it was.
You quickly turn over to the other side.
“Spencer. Spencer!” you hiss, shaking his shoulders urgently. “Wake up! We overslept!”
He groans softly but doesn’t move. Another loud clatter bounces off the walls, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest.
“Spencer,” you whisper sharply, eyes widening. “I think Matt is home.”
That finally gets his attention. He blinks his eyes open. “Wha—?”
You’re already halfway out of bed, rushing to the window to peek through the curtains. Sure enough, you spot your brother’s car parked in the driveway. “Yep, he’s here,” you mutter under your breath, the panic rising as you turn back to Spencer. “And now he’s going to kill us.”
“He’s not going to kill us,” he mumbles, but even by his voice, you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. You watch as he finally slips out of bed, scrambling to pick up his clothes scattered across the floor. “We talked about this last night. It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”
You shoot him a look before quickly pulling on your own clothes.
“There’s a big difference between telling him, and him finding out that his sister is sleeping with his friend while he was away taking care of his wife and baby.” You yank your shirt over your head. “In his freaking house.”
When you put it that way, Spencer’s heart sinks a little. Although Matt isn’t a violent person, he has twice the muscle he does, and it’s not hard to imagine him being a lot less forgiving in a situation like this. He can’t help but picture the worst-case scenario even though Matt’s always been the reasonable type.
Until now, maybe.
“Do you think I should climb out the window?”
You stare at him in disbelief. "Spencer, you’re not sixteen.”
“Actually, I’ve never been in a situation like this,” he admits, pulling up his pants. “My biggest concern when I was sixteen was getting my first PhD.”
You forgot how ridiculously smart he is. Smarter than most people, definitely smarter than you. “Well now you’re getting firsthand experience.” You start pacing around the room. “Let’s just try to stay calm.”
“That’s kind of hard to do when your brother could walk in while I’m half-naked.”
You look at him in horror. “Then put your damn shirt on!"
Before he can reply, there's a noise from outside the room—a quick shuffle of steps, light and rapid, as if someone’s rushing down the hall. You barely have time to react before the door is wrenched open.
But it's not your brother.
It's far worse.
You feel your stomach drop when your eyes lands on the small figure of your nephew, standing there with wide eyes. His gaze shifts back and forth—from you, disheveled and clearly flustered, to Spencer, whose bare back is facing the door, still fumbling with his pants. From little Jake's point of view, it must look like the most confusing sight, because he quickly retreats, bolting down the hallway.
“Dad! Help! There’s a strange man in Auntie’s room!”
You don’t know whether to laugh or panic. The fact that Jake didn’t recognize Spencer without his usual suit is almost comical. You glance at him, noticing how his body has tensed, his back straightening in alarm.
“Who was that?” he whispers, turning to you with wide eyes.
"Jake.” You blow a strand of hair that falls across your face. “Who apparently thinks you're an intruder."
The blood seems to drain from his face. “He didn’t recognize me?”
Your eyes flick over his appearance—his wild, tangled hair sticking out in all directions, bare chest still slightly flushed from sleep, and pants barely zipped. “Not when you look like this, no.”
But before he can respond, you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway, heavier this time.
Your heart leaps into your throat.
“Shit.”
“I should have climbed out the window.”
The idea of him dangling from the window is even more absurd. You glance toward the door. "Okay, wait here. Let me talk to Matt first." Your eyes flicker to his bare chest again, and you let out the most exasperated sigh. "And please, for the love of God, put on your shirt."
You don’t have time to wait for his response as you rush out of the room, quickly closing the door behind you. You take a second to catch your breath, trying to compose yourself, when a noise down the hallway draws your attention. Only then do you notice Matt cautiously advancing towards your way, his back against the wall.
That’s when you spot the gun in his hand.
“Seriously?” you hiss, staring at him in disbelief. “What the hell, Matthew!”
He looks at you, equally surprised. “Jake said there was a strange man in your room!” he replies defensively, tightening his grip on the weapon. “What was I supposed to think?“
Your eyes shift toward your nephew, who’s peeking around the corner, his little head barely visible as he watches the scene unfold. This is definitely not how you expected your morning to go. A simple, awkward conversation was one thing, but having to disarm your brother while explaining this mess was an entirely different level.
“There’s no intruder, Matt. Put the gun down.”
He looks past you, his eyes zeroing in on the closed bedroom door. “Then who’s in there?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. There’s no easy way to explain this. How do you even start? That Spencer is standing half-naked in the guest room, trying to gather his dignity after being mistaken for an intruder by a six-year-old? You never thought you'd have to introduce Spencer to your brother this way, in his own house, under these chaotic circumstances.
You can feel Matt's eyes boring into you, waiting for an answer. All you can think is how ridiculous this all must look, and how there's no good way to smooth over the fact that, yes, Spencer Reid, his friend slash teammate, is behind the door. And the most absurd part? A part of you is more worried about the look on Matt's face than the fact that he's holding a gun.
“Please don’t be mad.”
You hold your breath as you slowly reach for the doorknob. You push the door open and let out a small, relieved sound when you see Spencer fully dressed, looking almost presentable, except for the wild hair that refuses to settle. He gives you a small nod before stepping out of the room.
“Uncle Spencer?” Jake’s small voice cuts through the tension. Matt’s gaze darts between you two, his jaw tightening as he puts the pieces together. You can see the moment realization hits him full force.
“Reid?” Matt’s voice is incredulous, bordering on betrayed. “What the hell is going on?”
“I can explain,” you say cautiously. “It’s not exactly how it looks.”
“Not exactly how it looks?” Matt echoes, his eyes narrowing at you, then shifting back to Spencer. “You’re in my guest room looking like you just rolled out of bed—”
“Fully clothed now,” Spencer cuts in quickly, which only earns him a frown from Matt.
“Not helping,” you mutter under your breath, shooting Spencer a look before turning back to your brother. “Fine, it’s exactly how it looks like. So… uh, surprise?”
You watch so many emotions flashing in his eyes. Matt’s always been a good brother. Sometimes annoying, but always reliable. He doesn’t usually get angry at you—quite the opposite, actually. He’s calm, level-headed, and more prone to offering advice than raising his voice. But now? The frustration is clear in his eyes.
He’s not mad exactly, but he’s definitely not happy either.
“Surprise?” Matt repeats, his voice flat. His gaze flick back to Spencer, who’s now shifting his weight awkwardly beside you. “This is how you decided to tell me?”
“Okay, it’s not how we planned it, obviously.”
“Clearly,” he deadpans.
You put on the best, innocent-looking face you can muster.
“Maaatttt,” you try again, deciding to use a different approach by being cute this time. “Don’t be so harsh.”
To your relief, it actually works on him, like it usually does whenever you try to charm your way out of trouble. His tough exterior falters because, no matter what, you’re still his baby sister. His face softens for a moment, shoulders dropping as he lets out a sigh.
“I’m not mad, okay? But I am your brother. And you,” he adds, pointing at Spencer. “You’re supposed to be my friend. I feel like I should’ve known about this before… well, before finding you like this.” Your shoulders slumps at his words. “How long has this been going?”
Now that is a tricky question. Explaining that you and Spencer occasionally had sex five years ago definitely isn’t something your brother needs to hear right now—or ever, really. You can almost feel Spencer tense beside you, probably having the same thought.
You clear your throat. “Last night.”
"Last night?" Matt looks at you as if you’re crazy. It might be the most disapproving look he’s ever given to you. "You're telling me this just started last night?"
"But—" you quickly add, holding up a hand to stop his train of thought. "We’ve been talking for a while, it’s not like it happened out of nowhere. Last night was just the first time we decided to actually do something about it."
“Right under my roof?” Matt’s brows pinches upward. “You lied about having a headache, didn’t you?”
“Wait, you had a headache? Why didn’t you tell me?”
You’re not sure you can handle two men pestering you at the same time. You focus on your brother instead.
“Look, we didn’t plan anything yesterday. Things just… happened,” you say, trying to explain without making it sound worse than it already does. “But it’s not only about last night. For what it’s worth, we were planning to tell to you. Just not like this.”
Your brother cocks an eyebrow. “So this isn’t a one-time thing?”
Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “God, no,” he says. You feel an arm snake around your waist. “I care about her. A lot.”
Matt stares at Spencer for a long moment, his face a mixture of frustration, concern, and something else. Acceptance, maybe. He looks back at you. “Is this what you want?”
You feel Spencer’s grip tighten on your waist. He’s also waiting for your answer.
“It’s what I want.”
Spencer’s thumb brushes over you as Matt lets out a long breath, his grip on the gun finally relaxing. “This feels weird.”
“In a good way?”
“In a bizarre kind of way.” Matt’s falls falls on Spencer again. “I’m still trying to process this, but if you hurt her—”
“I won’t,” Spencer promises. “I swear.”
“Good, because you know I can put you back to prison if you do.”
Oh, he knows. Spencer understands exactly what he means, after all, Matt was one of the few people who helped clear his name during one of the most horrific moments of his life. Even if there’s a slight jab in his words, Spencer can tell he’s being dead serious. Especially with that gun still attached to his grip.
You, on the other hand, are hearing this for the first time. “Wait, what?” you blurt out. “Prison? You went to prison?”
Spencer merely shrug. Matt finally lowers his weapon, shaking his head as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. “I need coffee,” he mutters, turning toward the kitchen.
“Wait…” Jake finally peeks out from behind the wall. You blink your eyes, forgetting he’s even there. “Does this mean Uncle Spencer is your boyfriend now?”
You feel three pair of eyes on you. Matt’s gaze is sharp. Spencer’s expression is cautious. And then there’s Jake, looking up at you with the straightforward curiosity only a child can have. To him, things are simple. Either you are, or you aren’t, and in hindsight, it really is a straightforward question. But nothing about this situation has been straightforward.
You look at Spencer for a fraction of a second. You can see the nervous hope reflected in his eyes. Maybe Jake’s question isn’t just his… maybe it’s Spencer’s too.
And sure, maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it really is as simple as saying—
“Yes.” You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. “I suppose he is.”
If you’ve ever seen Spencer being happy, it pales in comparison to this. His eyes light up, and he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. A genuine, almost boyish smile spreads across his face as you feel his warmth seep into your skin. There’s so much affection in his gaze it makes your chest tighten. He’s not just happy. He’s beaming.
Matt clears his throat awkwardly. “Come on, kiddo, let’s grab what your mom needs and get back to the hospital.” He glances back at you. “You guys coming?”
You nod absentmindedly. “Sure.”
He throws you both a look. Not hateful, but definitely not warm either. You see him grip his gun from the corner of your eye, more out of habit than necessity, before steering his son away with a firm hand on his shoulders.
“That went better than expected,” Spencer mutters the moment your brother is out of earshot.
“‘It’s not going to be as bad as you think’,” you mock, reciting the words he said to you half an hour ago.
“It wasn’t.”
“Spencer, he held a gun.”
“He thought I was an intruder. I would’ve done the same thing,” he points out, his tone surprisingly calm as he holds you by your waist. “Relax, okay? He’ll come around us. Eventually.”
“You’re awfully optimistic about this.”
“He likes me.”
He does have a point. Matt has always had a soft spot for Spencer, but you’re not sure how far that can go after what just happened. “I think you might have lost a few brownie points today.”
He considers the truth in your words. “Maybe,” he admits with a shrug. “But at least I earned a few with you.”
“Because of the boyfriend thing?” He’s grinning so wide that his eyes practically disappear into crescent moons. You poke the slightest dimple on his cheek. “Don’t act so smug. I’m still trying to process the fact that I’m dating an ex-felon.”
“I was framed,” he explains, and the way he says it so nonchalantly only deepens your confusion. He tries to smooth your frown with a kiss. “I’ll tell you everything on our first date.”
“Who said I’ll go on a date with you?”
“You will,” he simply says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“And what makes you so sure?”
Because he’s always been sure. The man who doubts everything, who overanalyzes every situation, looks at you with a certainty that makes your heart swell. You’ve seen that look before—the one that says he’s considered every possible outcome and decided this is the one that matters most. There’s something magnetic about it, the way he seems to know exactly what he wants, and right now, it’s you.
“Because I’m your mushroom.”
He’s so silly, yet there’s something so perfectly Spencer about it that makes the idea of not going on a date with him feel impossible. You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but the warmth in your chest tells you he’s already won your heart.
And you don’t mind him keeping it.
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agh i know it can be rally difficult but especially if you are a marginalized person especially if you are a woman ESPECIALLY if you are trans please make sure that you’re not signaling insecurity to ppl via your dating app profiles or what have you. it can literally be a matter of your own physical safety.
as an example, i often see trans girls on hinge liable to put something like “i’ll fall for you if you show me any affection at all <3” on their profiles…and i know u just think it sounds quirkily self-deprecating and i KNOW that’s the way you really and truly feel but if i am someone who whether consciously or not is searching for a dynamic in which i have power over another person, a statement like that will make my ears perk up!!
furthermore, and especially for younger people, there are a lot of things that are very necessary to discuss with a partner that are ALSO very necessary to not reveal for a little while. if you have been abused in a certain way or if you are inexperienced, those are things that are unsafe to talk about with people you don’t know, no matter how honest and upfront you pride yourself on being. i’ve had someone tell me about all the sexual assault they’d experienced on a first date— and luckily for them i wasn’t interested in harming them or really into them at all— but again, imagine if i were someone who wanted power over another person! all their truthfulness and vulnerability would do is reveal them as an easy mark for my manipulation.
if you do encounter a critical situation with someone you haven’t spent enough time with yet, it should always be possible to say what instead of why: e.g. “i’m sorry, but i’d like to wait before having sex with you” or “i’d rather not hang out in that park, can we pick somewhere else?” instead of “i’d like to hold off on having sex BECAUSE i’ve never had sex before” or “i’d rather not hang out in that park BECAUSE that’s where i was assaulted.” again, both very important things to talk about with a partner, but unfortunately potentially dangerous things to discuss with someone you’ve not yet gotten close to! and anyone who seems to be sniffing around for signs of your inexperience or victimhood is not to be trusted anyway (note that sniffing around is different from a polite “oh, would you like to talk about it?” interest.)
i know it can be difficult to come across as more confident than you feel, but it is really necessary that you’re projecting a desire for something healthy and safe that will make you happy instead of saying outright that you’ll be fine with crumbs.
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Friendship Over | MYG x f.Reader

“You and Yoongi have been best friends for years and yet your friendship is build on perhaps the biggest misunderstanding on earth. You, totally into inexperienced guys, think that Yoongi steers away from romance because he is ace and therefore you keep quiet about your huge crush on him. While Yoongi, very eager to get sexy with you, thinks that you are only interested in experienced guys and therefore he sucks up his major crush on you. When one night, you accidentally run in on him touching himself to the thought of you, the foundation of your friendship crumbles irreparably and you are forced to make sense of the rubble.”
Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader
Genre: best friends to lovers!AU, Smut
Warnings: subbiest!Yoongi, inexperienced!Yoongi, shy!Yoongi, Yoongi in glasses, Domme!Reader, completely whipped!Reader, misunderstandings but make it two idiots in love <3, she thinks that he is ace and he thinks she isn't interested in "virgins", but it's quite the opposite, bruh these two just need to talk fr, male masturbation, handjob, getting caught, neediest making out, she is a lil rough with him but in a loving way, Yoongi is a natural ngnfng, they take turns making the other feel good, body worshipping, nipple licking & play, oral sex (m. & f.receiving), cum swallowing, safe penetrative sex in lotus & cowgirl, he cums so many times, listen. they're all new sensations to him so bear with him <3, he is literally this -> :O the entire time, imagine being a sub and experiencing subspace for the first time in the safest way, yeah this is what happens to him, dirty talk & praise, i feel so feral for this yoongi omfg, naked cuddles & giddy giggles for aftercare hihi <3
Wordcount: 11.5k
a/n: AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! i love him i love him i love him he is such a cutie pattootie boongie woongie sweetie lovely pookie <3 this is an idea from kinktober24 which wasn't chosen for the official list, but i still wanted to write it because it is such a VIBE and we love nerdy virgin!Yoongi with a paSSION eheheh 💗
A short trip during spring has been your friendship tradition for years. Perhaps it is also the reason why you also haven’t had a boyfriend in years. The last one you had, did not like knowing that you would be sharing a room with your male best friend for three nights. You assured him that said best friend was on the ace spectrum, but alas he made you choose and so you chose Yoongi.
It was an easy choice, because it will always be Yoongi. If Yoongi asked you to, you would be his girlfriend in a heartbeat. He is the man of your dreams. He is mature and knows his place in life. He is intelligent and witty. He is highly empathetic and always knows the right comforting words to say. He is kind, so incredibly kind, and he is sweet. He is creative and full of wonderful ideas. He is your calm haven as much as he is the biggest source for your laughter. He is just so funny and most of all, he is a total nerd.
Just like you.
You and Yoongi can spend hours obsessing over your newest shared nerdy fixations and it wouldn't become boring. Many friendship trips ended in you and he locked up in your hotel room while you obsessed over your shared interests together. Each year and for each occasion, you get the other presents inspired by each other’s interests and you are even working on your own DnD campaign together.
He is your dream man, but you also know that he is aromantic and ace and that anything remotely romantic was weird to him. No way in hell would you ever tell him your feelings if it meant making your friendship – and him – uncomfortable.
So you stay quiet while you go on these friendship trips, pretending that sharing a room and bed with him doesn’t totally mess with your sanity and that spending so much quality time together doesn’t completely fuck you over. Sometimes, during these trips, your daydreams of being partners are so intense that you have to stop yourself from calling him baby.
One time, you actually did and Yoongi blushed and you totally saved yourself by turning it into a funny thing. A running gag so to speak, although the only gag running is you. From your confession. Because you’re a coward.
Yoongi is many a things, but he definitely isn’t ace. Nor is he aromantic. Yoongi is actually a complete and utter sucker for romance. And sex. Yoongi loves sex. In theory. In practice not that much. The thought of getting naked in front of someone scares him to the point of willingly staying a virgin. Not that he wouldn’t want to change it, but being naked. Why does one have to be naked during sex? This is so embarrassing.
Yoongi also thinks that you are the most amazing person to ever exist. If someone asked him who would be his dream partner, Yoongi would describe you. You are intelligent, charismatic, funny and have the kindest heart he has ever seen in a person. When he is with you, his mind quiets down and at the same time, he wants to keep being goofy. He also thinks that you are the most beautiful person existing. Inside and out, you are everything he wishes for.
But he also knows that you are so much cooler and much more mature than him when it comes to relationships and that experienced people are a total turn on for you.
And Yoongi is very far from being an expert. So he stays quiet in order not to break his own heart by being rejected for being a loser virgin.
The time you called him baby still haunts him, by the way. Not that this is in any way relevant to this story.
“The water pressure sucks. Just a heads up”, you say, entering the bedroom in nothing but a towel.
Yoongi, sitting on bed and playing a card game on his phone, looks at you only to instantly look away again. His heart skips a few beats. Holy wow.
“I feel like I’m still dirty, even though I really scrubbed myself”, you continue, oblivious to his flabbergasted stares.
“This sucks”, Yoongi answers you, hoping that he sounds calm enough not to call attention.
“It does. Big times.”
Yoongi glances at what you are doing. You are laying out an outfit, including your underwear. It is the lacy kind. Yoongi loves the lacy kind. He presses his legs together in hopes of stopping any kind of blood flow to his dick. He can’t risk it. How embarrassing would that be? He gets hard over your underwear. This is The definition of what a loser virgin would do. You don’t know that he is a virgin and Yoongi really wants to keep it this way.
“Does it still stand that you want to chill?” you ask him, throwing your clothes and lacy underwear over your arm.
You and he talked about dinner and Yoongi said that he wasn’t really hungry and that he would prefer to stay in the room. You don’t blame him. After all, he was the one who had to drive for six hours.
“Yeah. Is it okay if I do?” he says.
“Yes, it’s totally okay. I’m starving, I can’t wait. I hope that the restaurant is better than their water pressure. Otherwise, we totally chose the wrong hotel this year.”
You are talking to him as you walk back to the bathroom to get dressed.
Yoongi feels like a pervert, but when you are already in your underwear, you manage to change positions which makes it possible for him to see you in the reflection of the mirror. A decent person would look away, but Yoongi is a disgusting piece of shit. At least that’s how he feels as he runs his eyes up and down your barely clothed body, wishing for a higher deity to give him strength. You are so beautiful. The lace sits on your curves as if it was made for you, the cups of your bra hold up your breasts in such a nice way and your butt looks so perfect.
It aches. Yoongi wants to touch you and call you beautiful, but he can’t. He can’t because he is a loser virgin and you only like experienced men.
You wear a flowy slip on dress, returning from the bathroom with light makeup on and the sweet scent of your perfume accompanying you.
“Can you help me with my necklace?” you ask him, walking to his side of the bed and sitting down on the edge of it.
“Sure, yeah”, he tries so hard not to squeak his words. You are so close to him that he can really smell your perfume.
You roll your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. You put highlighter on your shoulders and the area of your collarbones. It reflects the lights in a faint shimmer. Yoongi feels jealous of the necklace which gets to brush over this part of you. He is a complete mess, barely managing to close your necklace.
“Done”, he lets you know, accidentally brushing his fingertips down the nape of your neck as he pulls back. Goosebumps cover your skin in reaction and a shiver moves you.
Yoongi gulps.
“This just totally give me the shivers. Do it again.”
Yoongi repeats the touch. You shiver and giggle, reaching back to scratch the spot he touched.
“Totally ticklish too”, you look over your shoulder at him.
If Yoongi was any more of a disrespectful asshole, he would close the distance and kiss your neck. But he isn’t and so he gawks at you with a racing heart.
“Thanks for closing the necklace, you’re a darling.” You stand up and give him a sweet smile.
Yoongi looks up at you over the brim of his glasses. His heart is beating out of his chest by now. He doesn’t know how many more trips he can take before he just bursts and confesses. This year is torture. His feelings are eating him alive.
“I’m downstairs for some. I’m taking the key card and my phone. So if you get locked out, call me”, you say, getting ready to leave.
“Yeah, okay. Have a good meal.”
“Hopefully I will. Have a good chill.”
He chuckles, “I will. Thanks.”
“See you.”
“See you. Bye.”
You leave the room soon after, abandoning Yoongi in his loneliness and yearning. If only he had more experience, he would take this fateful step and confess his feelings for you.
If you were his girlfriend, he would cook for you all the time. He would write you songs and he would perform them to you. He would rub your shoulders on stressful days and wipe your tears on sad days. He would constantly tell people that he was your boyfriend and he would even try to get over his fear of being naked for you.
Yoongi knows that you would feel so nice. Warm and soft. He would love holding you and tracing your body. He would kiss you all over and get droopy from your scent.
Yoongi feels it. It’s happening again. His own disgusting thoughts are turning him on. It happened last year too.
The bed was smaller than this year and you ended up spooning him accidentally while Yoongi laid wide awake with a hard dick and a racing heart. He remembers that he had to leave the room early and secretly jerk off in his car because it just wouldn’t go down otherwise. This was the first time he touched himself to the thought of you and the memory comes back to haunt him.
Is this his fate? Did his brain connect these friendship trips with unbearable horniness? Is he destined to jerk off in secret each fucking year until he shrivels up and you find the love of your life in someone else? Is this it? Is he supposed to stay the pervert best friend who gets off on you?
Yoongi rolls out of bed and tries to get rid of his boner by doing a few jumping jacks. He is not going to give in again. Last year was a mistake, something which will never happen again. No woman deserves to be treated this way. Yoongi is too fucking grown to be such a stereotypical virgin.
The jumping jacks help until his eyes accidentally land on your open suitcase and the second set of lingerie you left on top of your clothes. It’s the lacy kind again. Red this time around. He messes up the jumping jacks, instantly feeling how blood rushes back to his dick. It’s useless. He won’t be able to survive this fucking trip if he doesn’t take care of it. Forcing it away will only end in him getting needier and the boner to be harder to hide. He has to do it now and never think of it again. Yep, that’s what he’ll do. Get it over with quickly and then hate himself for it.
Dinner was a complete fail because the restaurant was already closed. Fifteen minutes later and after one sad trip to the local supermarket for some dry bread, you are already back in front of your hotel room. You try to sneak into the room just in case Yoongi fell asleep. You open and close the door silently and tiptoe into the room. You abandon your heels by the door and continue to tiptoe to the bedroom.
And then you see it and it almost makes you scream.
Yoongi is under the blanket and has his eyes closed. His arm makes the very distinctive movements a man makes when he jerks off. His constant small moans are another indicator
And you feel frozen, feeling your entire world view crumble as you watch Yoongi – the supposedly biggest ace out there – touch himself.
The better part of you tells you to turn around and leave. It almost wins until your name suddenly slips from his lips.
Quietly. Like a beg. So filled with pleasure.
Your knees buckle at the sound of it. If lady boners were a thing, you would have one. A huge one.
“___, you’re so soft, ah…”
Panic. How the fuck are you going to make yourself known? Clear your throat? Cough? Say his name?
“Ah-ah”, Yoongi mewls and arches his back, throwing his arm over his eyes as he clearly finds release to the thought of you.
And you are spiralling. Holy fuck. He just orgasmed to the thought of you.
“Urgh, fuck”, he comes down with a deep growl and gritted teeth, following it up with a squeaky whimper.
Speak! Say something!
He needs a few seconds afterwards to catch his breath. You should make yourself know, but you lost any ability to make a noise.
He just orgasmed to the thought of you.
Yoongi drops his arm from his eyes and opens them. His glasses are tilted, his hair is ruffled.
“Fuck”, he whispers, voice filled with shame.
He sits up to get a tissue, using it to wipe his hand. Afterwards he disappears under the blanket for a moment to clean himself.
“You’re fucking disgusting, Min Yoongi”, you hear him talk to himself.
You are totally frozen and mute, unable to make sense of what just happened.
Yoongi reappears and screams. He saw you, now jumping out of bed in horror.
“What, what, what are you doing here?” He stutters. “Since when. Oh god, since when? What did you see?”
“Uh…I heard my name and… saw what it did to you.”
“Oh my god”, Yoongi falls to his knees, “I’m so sorry, please don’t call the cops. I promise, I’ll leave. You won’t have to see me again. I’m so sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
“No. Uh.” You shake your head to get back to reality. “It’s fine. This was hot.”
“What?”
“I really wanna kiss you.”
“What??”
Yoongi stands up, gawking at you. It feels as if everything he ever believed was a lie. You want to kiss him??
“Excuse my bluntness, but this made me wet. Like seriously, watching you orgasm to the thought of me changed me as a person”, you say, looking at him as if you wanted to ravish him whole.
Yoongi stutters, but he does it so hard that it stays unintelligible for you. It was definitely something nervous and shocked.
“Do you want me to come closer?” you ask him.
Yoongi blushes vividly. He nods his head shyly, covering his face.
“Holy fuck, Yoongi…”
You close the distance in wobbles, wanting to fall over him like a rabid animal. You want him so bad.
Yoongi panics.
“I’m a virgin!” he yells his confession.
You stop, gawking at him with widened eyes. Yoongi’s face is bright red, his eyes are big.
“Well! Uhm… I jerk off and uh, I had hand stuff done to me. In a club. Once. I was drunk and it was dark. I….And I kissed women. And uhm men. Woah, I just said that.”
“You just said that.”
“Forget I ever said anything. Actually? Forget about me all together. I need to go. Goodbye.”
“Yoongi, hey”, you stop him, holding his hands gently.
Yoongi stops, avoiding your eyes as he does nervous gulps repeatedly. His glasses are starting to fog up by now. This is how high you are raising his temperature. You aren’t helping when you take his chin between two fingers gently. Yoongi feels like prey, vulnerable and totally at your mercy. And the most confusing thing? He likes it. A lot.
“I get that you’re nervous, but don’t be. I don’t judge”, you assure him. You can’t stop looking at him. It has become so much more exciting ever since his confession. Shit, you need to control yourself. It wouldn’t be mannerly to fall over him as if you are starving.
“You don’t judge me?” he asks quietly.
“Of course not. This just totally messes up what I thought of you, so uhm, sorry if I still sound a little shocked.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Not at all. I just always assumed that you were aro-ace because you said that anything romantic and sexual feels weird to you.”
“It’s not weird to me. I’m…” he lowers his head in shame, “I feel weird about being naked. The thought of being perceived in such a state totally gives me a panic attack. I just dipped whenever sex was insinuated and yeah, I did this for years until being untouched felt easier than the thought of being seen did. Now I’m in my thirties and a loser virgin.”
“Shit, I didn’t know this about you. I’m sorry that you feel this way and that you feel this way about yourself. I should have asked, you know, talked to you about it.”
“No, I’m glad you didn’t. I feel like a loser.”
“You’re not a loser. It’s totally valid to start later than others. I just don’t get it. You’re fucking gorgeous. People should be all over you all the time.”
“Oh”, he lowers his head.
“Sorry, insensitive. Trauma from a bad experience? Is that why you feel weird?”
“No, just insecurities. I guess. And, I don’t know, I guess just feeling like I’m gonna be judged for liking it a certain way.”
“How do you like it?”
“I’m a complete sub, but I’m a guy. I don’t know”, he explains rubbing his neck to self-soothe.
“I know it’s probably not gonna help you, but I think that you’re the most handsome man ever. And I like to snack on subby guys like you. Virgins are my favourite.”
“What?” he gasps, finally meeting your eyes. “But you like experienced guys.”
“Yeah, guys who have experiences in life. Someone who is mature and knows what he wants. You know, someone who will build me a home and who wants to take care of it together. Someone who knows what to say when the day is rough because he is empathetic and kind. This kind of experience is sexy. Someone like you is sexy.”
“What do you mean??”
“I have feelings for you. For quite a few years now.”
“Holy fuck.”
“That bad?”
“No, just. Are you serious? I swear to fucking god, if you’re just messing with me, friendship over. I’m in a vulnerable state right now and I can’t take a fucking prank-”
You silence him by kissing him. Yoongi’s knees give up, back colliding with the wall and hands grasping your waist. He is kissing you. Well correction, you are kissing him. But oh my god.
You break the kiss, not because you want to but because you need to. Your hands are on his hips, your eyes undress him slowly. Yoongi suddenly feels eighteen again, lips still tingling from your kiss.
“I’m too fucking grown to mess with your feelings like that”, your voice sounds like heaven to him, “I know what I want and how I feel. You’re the guy of my dreams and the fact that you’re a total sub and a virgin just makes me want you even more. Sorry if this comes off as totally blunt, but this is my truth.”
“Kiss me again. Please”, he begs, head far gone and body burning up.
You give what he wishes for gladly. A kiss. So deep and emotional that it is difficult to handle. You press yourself against him, cornering him against the wall while Yoongi barely manages to keep himself standing. He digs his fingers so deep into your waist that he dimples your softness, his heart never raced like this before.
“Is this good? Do you like this?” you mumble between kisses, hands restless on his squirming body and lips starved for him.
“Good. So good.” He answers you in helpless, totally needy moans, still only grasping your waist because he is star struck.
Just like he confessed, Yoongi kissed women before. And men. But none of the people he kissed felt like you feel. When he kissed them, Yoongi felt in control of himself and as if it was just a simple kiss.
But with you? With you, there is no ounce of control left in him. This is so much more than a kiss. It makes him feel so fucking high.
And needy.
So needy.
The kiss breaks, but Yoongi doesn’t get to breathe. You drag him to bed, throw him atop of it and climb him. His hands are pinned above his head instantly and his thighs finally know the weight of you.
“You have to stop me if I’m too fast”, you tell him.
“Don’t stop.”
You kiss him again. Needier than before. So much sloppier too. Yoongi can barely keep up, soon having to break it just to breathe.
“How do you fucking breathe when you kiss like this?” he asks.
“No idea, I always get dizzy”, you say and giggle, “sorry, I’m way too rough aren’t I? Should we stop? How far do you want me to go?”
“All the way.”
You exhale shakily. Yoongi gulps. It’s out there now. He wants all of it with you. Take the hands of the wheel and shift to the highest gear. Yoongi doesn’t want this to stop.
He gazes at your lips. They are puffy and wet from kissing. He did that, he thinks. He fucking did that and he wants it again.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“Please.” He licks his lips nervously, which lets you know that he still wants to say something. “I just can’t promise you a good time. I’ll try, but you have to guide me.”
You chuckle, cradling his cheeks to lean down and kiss his lips.
“Just being with you, already means I’m having the best time ever”, you say, tugging on his lower lip playfully.
Yoongi moans, lifting his head to chase the sensation. You give him a playful growl, which totally messes him up, and shove his head back into the pillow. Again, it messes him up. It’s so sexy when you’re rough with him. Yoongi didn’t think that the things he fantasised about would actually feel this good.
“Do you like it when I’m rough with you? You’re moaning so much.”
“I like it so much. You’re so sexy.”
“Mhm Yoongi…I can be even sexier…”
You straighten up, giving him a playful smile as you hook your hands in your dress to take it off.
Yoongi lies, totally frozen, and stares at you as if you were a goddess. His brain can barely comprehend what is happening to him. He might actually develop a headache from mere sensation overload. Is he still daydreaming?
Yoongi gasps and pinches himself.
“Ouch.”
You laugh, lifting your brows in question, “what was that for?” you ask, throwing the dress to the floor.
“Just panicked and needed to check if I’m awake.”
“You’re dumb”, you laugh, leaning down and cradling his cheeks, “this isn’t a dream, silly. Although it feels like one.”
He gulps, gawking at your lips with needy puppy eyes.
“Touch me as I kiss you”, you say and claim his lips.
Yoongi shudders, squeezing his eyes shut and slamming his hands on your body with such passion that you gasp. You giggle, biting his lower lip.
“Sorry.”
“You’re good, fuck so sexy.”
You kiss him with tongue for what he did and Yoongi is a goner. He tries to figure out your rhythm, resulting in your kiss to be so much needier than you planned it to be. Not that you mind. Kissing Yoongi is a dream come true. You always knew that kissing his lips would be a different experience. They are so perfect. So pouty and soft and so goddamn pretty. Sometimes when he talked to you, all you could do was stare at his lips and daydream about how it would be to kiss him.
And now you are kissing him and it is better than any daydream ever made it out to be. Your heart is racing so much, your skin is twice as sensitive to touch and your pussy has never wanted to have cock more than she does tonight.
Yoongi is currently stuck in his own life-altering experience. He is touching you. The thing he fantasised about is actually happening and you are so much softer than you were in his imagination. Your skin is like the finest silk he ever touched. Warm and tender and soft. So soft. Yoongi thought that he would be obsessed with the spots where your underwear digs into you, but he was wrong. Your waist and back feel so good to touch. They fit under his palm as if his hands were made to hold you.
Yoongi doesn’t know just how tightly he can hold you, but he has to try. Just once. One squeeze. Strong.
“Yoongi, fuck”, you breathe, abandoning his lips to kiss a messy path to his neck.
“Oh woah”, he lets out, gasping for air afterwards. He shivers, squirming under you.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah…don’t stop, please.”
“I can’t stop. You smell so good and taste, mhm, your taste…” you trail off, dragging your tongue down his neck until you reach the collar of his shirt.
Yoongi realises quite a lot about himself right in this moment. He realises that the reason why he felt so weird about being naked was because he was never really turned on correctly. Because right now, he curses the existence of his fucking shirt.
“Wait.”
“Sorry, too far?”
You straighten up in sync with him sitting up. Your air catches in your throat as you watch him take off his shirt.
“You don’t have to if you feel weird about it”, you say.
“I want it”, he says and throws the shirt on the floor. He drops back in the pillow, gazing up at you submissively and so ready to be devoured.
Your heart might jump out of your throat if this keeps going. He is so beautiful. His skin is fair and his nipples are dark in contrast. They are so perky, currently hard and swollen from the cool air. His tummy is soft in contrast to his pecs and under his pretty belly button, a faint happy trail disappears in his boxers.
You have never felt more attracted to a person than you do right now.
“I’m fucking serious when I say this. You are fucking gorgeous, holy fuck.”
“You think?”
“I do. Fuck, I can’t believe that you’re real. It’s insane.”
Yoongi squirms, heart doing somersaults in his chest. It basically goes crazy when you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra.
“Oh my god”, he whispers, ogling your breasts.
“Thought we could match.”
“Oh my god”, he insists and flutters his lashes.
“First pair of tits?”
“In real life, yeah. Oh my god, you’re beautiful. What the fuck?”
You chuckle. He is so cute when he curses.
“Can I touch them?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Yoongi sits up. The sparks between you and him are electric. You look so deeply into each other’s eyes, sharing air and the same pulse. You give him a little playful smirk, flustering him.
Yoongi lowers his eyes, studying your chest. He lifts his hands to it, placing them over your breasts.
You sigh softly, leaning into his touch.
Yoongi exhales, blinking away the emotion in his eyes.
He can feel your heart like this. It is racing. He can’t explain why this affects him the most, but it does.
He lifts his eyes, whispering your name.
“Yeah? Is this good?”
He gives you his answer by kissing you. He moans with you and while you make a sound because he surprised you, he makes it because he could feel your heart skip a beat and then speed up. And this is turning him on more than anything else.
He squeezes your soft breasts instinctively, feeling tingly when you moan and kiss him deeper in reaction. So he does it again. And again. And fucking again. Until he made up a rhythm and you roll your hips on his lap in a needy rhythm. Your arms are hooked behind his head, your fingers are playing with his hair.
Yoongi brushes his thumbs over your nipples, learning first hand what this does to you.
“Shit, this feels so good”, you sigh into the kiss, running your fingers down the nape of his neck so you can dance them up to his scalp again and grab more of his soft hair.
It feels so good to him too and so he does it again. And again. And again. And again until he made up a rhythm and your panties start to feel soaked against his thigh. He wasn’t born yesterday, so he knows that this is a good sign. He gets you wet. It’s insane to him, turning his brain into liquid.
“Yoongi, this is…” you trail off, hugging him close in a shiver of your body. His hands sadly have to slip to your back like this, but it doesn’t matter.
He feels your breasts squish against him and this is otherworldly to feel.
Yoongi is seriously so far gone. All that he currently exists for is the intimacy you and he share. He has never been as focused on anything as he is right now on what you and he are doing.
You slide your hands to his hair and push with your chest. Yoongi falls. The kiss breaks, but the connection between your souls is still there. He gazes up at you through his slightly tilted glasses, having no idea how he should ever be normal again when he knows how you feel.
“One last chance. I’m serious, once you give me the go, I will fall over you like I’m a vampire and you’re blood”, you tell him, fucking him slowly with your hungry eyes.
He laughs. You laugh as well. The connection only grows. Fuck, you’ve never been more turned on than you are right now laughing with your best friend because you are both having a good time.
“Please be a vampire”, he allows you, readying himself for what was to come.
“Fuck, I’m gonna eat you”, you growl and fall over him just like you warned him that you would. “Lie back and enjoy, baby. This is about you now.”
Yoongi has to very quickly learn what he agreed on getting done to him is a lot harder to handle than he thought it would be. Your hands and mouth are restless and hungry. Touching and kissing and biting him everywhere. And the licking. Jesus fucking christ, there is so much licking happening that Yoongi soon starts writhing and squirming because it feels so fucking good.
“You’re so sexy. Holy fuck, your body. Yoongi, I’m obsessed. You’re so handsome”, you are babbling between your feast, driving away any kind of insecurity he could ever feel.
And as you praise him constantly, you help him learn a lot about his own body. His collarbones are nice to be sucked hickeys on to. It feels really tingly when you run your fingers up and down his sides. His tummy is insanely sensitive to the point where he needs to squirm. And his nipples. Fucking hell, his nipples. Yoongi didn’t think that arching his back was possible but then you swirl your tongue over his perky nipple and follow it up with a bite, Yoongi is a goner.
“How’s it for you, handsome?”
“Good”, he mewls.
“Good. It’s good. Baby, I’m so obsessed with you. Holy fuck”, you rasp and do the sexiest thing of dragging your wet tongue all the way down to the hem of his boxers.
Yoongi has never felt more desirable and at the same time ruined than he does right now.
Only lied out and devoured like this, does he realise that he is still in only his briefs. And that they are fighting against the second boner of tonight. It aches so much more than the first one. Quite frankly, Yoongi has never felt so much pain between his legs than he does right now as he is being explored by you.
“Please”, he begs, which he didn’t even know that he could do.
“Want me to take care of it?”
“Yes”, he mewls, writhing from side to side and rubbing his legs together. This was the sexiest thing he was ever asked. Yoongi doesn’t recognise himself anymore. What is happening to him and why doesn’t he want it to stop?
“I’m going insane, I mean it”, you confess, hooking your fingers in his soaked briefs. You take them off completely, throwing them on the floor.
The next moment is spend in star struck silence as you stare at his cock.
He has the most perfect cock you have ever seen. Listen, you saw your fair share of dicks in your life and you can say with complete honesty, that Yoongi’s is the sexiest cock ever. His tip is flushed and his shaft curves slightly. The sexiest part, however, are the prominent veins spanning all over his cock. Of course someone with his hands would have a veiny dick. If this continues, you might start barking.
“___?”
You lift your eyes at his shy whisper, “yeah?”
“Can we turn off the lights?”
“Oh”, you realise, “totally! I’m so sorry for staring. I just haven’t seen such a sexy cock before. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable”, you explain yourself, reaching over to the light switch.
“Wait.”
“Yeah?”
“You really think that I’m sexy?”
“Yes, I’m serious. You have the kind of dick you only see in fanart. You know, the really sexy fanart on Patreon I pay for.”
Yoongi instantly understands what you mean. Sometimes you showed it to him because he asked under the pretence that he was just interested in art, while he secretly used these moments to make a picture of what you like. In his head, the dicks in these drawings were so much sexier than his dick could ever be, but if you seriously think that his dick looks like those dicks, Yoongi has won in fucking life.
“Keep the lights on”, he says.
“You mean it?”
“Yeah, keep them on. I”, he giggles, hiding behind his hands, “shut up, I look like this?”
You snicker, “mhm, you do. You sexy beast.”
“Shut up.”
You tug his hands away, pinning them above his head as you hold them. You look at him as if he was your everything, raising his pulse.
“I’m so into you”, you whisper.
“Please”, he begs, chasing your kiss.
You give it to him gladly, kissing him until air is sparse. And only then, you begin your next journey. Down to his aching cock, for which you feel so starved that it hurts. You use your fingers to paint a path for your tongue, leaving out his cock when you reach him to lick his inner thighs instead.
Yoongi twists the sheets. He didn’t know that this was a real thing. Sometimes when he lost himself in a good fanfiction and it talked about people twisting the sheets in pleasure, he always thought that this was the creative choice of the author. Nope. This actually happens and Yoongi has no control over it.
He twists the sheets and seconds later, tugs on them as you sink him into your warm mouth.
“What the actual fuck?” he gasps out, sitting up slightly.
You purr around him, shoving him down with your hand on his chest.
Yoongi drops in the sheets, arching his back. There you are again, being a little rough with him. Yoongi gasps for air as if he has never breathed before, cock throbbing in your mouth.
You sink him in completely, moaning around him. He is the perfect size for your mouth. Oh you love his cock. You swallow around him, purring in pleasure.
Yoongi shakes, throwing his hands over his eyes which results in his glasses to fall off messily.
“Stop. I’m gonna cum.”
You slip off of him, almost setting him off. His hips twitch, following your mouth.
“So sensitive”, you coo, swirling your tongue over his cockhead while your fingers jerk off his length.
“Please. What the fuck. This feels so good. Stop, I have to- ah!”
“Mhhm, what a pretty cock you have and so sensitive”, you purr, giving it kisses.
One. Two. Three. Four because you love him. Five because he is so sweet. Six because he twitches so perfectly. Seven and then you sink him in again.
You keep your tongue pressed against him, relaxing your lips so they would move around him as you fuck your face with him. Your right hand is playing with his dainty nipples, while your left is rubbing the base of his cock.
“Please stop, I’m gonna-”, he can’t finish his sentence because you make him moan oh so easily.
You understand him nonetheless, slipping off his dick to talk. You switch nipples and slide your left hand to his balls.
“Please…stop”, he gets out, totally out of breath and quaky.
“You really wanna stop?”
“No, but. But. Ah. But I have to…oh god, I have to fucking cum”, he presses out, tensing his neck and putting his hand over your hand to squeeze it. His palm is sweaty and warm. This is so sexy to feel.
“Cum in my mouth, baby. I like it”, you encourage him, slipping him back inside to suck on his pretty cock. Vigorously if one may add, to the point where your cheeks fall in and Yoongi feels as if you are sucking the soul out of him.
“Ah! A-ah…” He grabs your head with his other hand, hips twitching uncontrollably. “Please, fucking shit, ah! Please, ___, please.”
You knew that he wouldn’t last long, but this wasn’t the goal. You want tonight to be fucking perfect and if this means that he orgasms in your mouth prematurely, then so be it. This is so sexy to you. It’s honestly everything you wanted for years. You thought about him like this in your most sinful nights, imagining the taste of him. And now you are greedy and want him as quickly as possible.
He tastes so much fucking sweeter than he did in your imagination, dulling your senses to nothing but him.
“Ah please. A-ah, oh god. Oh god.”
You slurp and moan as you suck him off, pushing Yoongi into the kind of high which nothing will ever be able to recreate. Orgasms from a mouth just hit differently. They are so much warmer and leave one’s legs just so fucking wobbly.
And Yoongi currently experiences the first ever high like this, twisting your hair and cursing in a broken voice. You can also hear glimpses of your name, but they’re oh so broken in pleasure.
You swear that you actually came with him. Holy shit, he sounds so sexy when he orgasms. For just a second, one must think about his voice and then imagine it when a high shakes his body. Yes, exactly, the lethalness of him is out of this world.
Just like he did for his first orgasm, he comes down with a growl and gritted teeth, dropping into the sheets. He pushes you off, covering himself and fighting for air.
“Oh my god. Ahm. Oh god. Ah.”
You help him through it, kissing your way up to his lips. You made sure to swallow all of him before you kiss him.
“Good job, babyboy.”
Droopy but with more confidence, Yoongi cups your cheek, kissing you back. He is a lot noisier, purring constantly. He even gives your lower lip a tug before ending the kiss.
“What the fuck”, he purrs tiredly, gazing at you. His cheeks are so flushed, his eyes are slightly glassy. He looks so happy. Shocked, but happy.
“First ever head?” you whisper your question, tracing his pecs. Your leg is swung over one of his thighs, knee resting between them.
“Yeah.”
You scrunch your nose, “I can assume that you liked it?”
“So much, you have no idea”, he says and licks his lips.
“You wanna say something?”
“I’m sorry for nutting so soon. I swear, this was really overwhelming for me.”
“It’s okay. I knew you wouldn’t last long. I rarely last long during head. It’s really sexy to me.”
“You like it too?” he croaks out, lifting the inner corners of his brows submissively.
“Yeah, but I rarely got it.”
Yoongi doesn’t like to hear this. Now that he knows how good it feels, he feels enraged thinking that such sensations are a rare thing for you. Someone like you should be adored this way constantly. The fucking moment you first kissed him, all he wanted was to make you feel good too. How on earth could other guys not feel the same?
“What’s with the angry face?” you ask him.
“It’s just…you should have felt it a lot.”
“You’re so sweet. I guess I just have trash exes.”
“You do. I never liked any of them”, he confesses, making you chuckle. He licks his lips, “can I?”
“Eat me out?”
“Yeah. Please.”
“Yes, oh my god.”
You and he switch places, kissing as you do. He is between your legs, hands on your body and skin melting with yours.
He is the one to break the kiss, gazing at you. Your heart flutters because of him.
“If I do something weird or wrong, tell me please.”
“Yes, I-”
He interrupts you before you can continue by connecting his puffy lips with your neck. His fingers paint paths and swirls, his lips trace them. He even sucks on some spots, flicking his tongue over your skin just like you did to him.
“Yoongi…wow….”
“You smell so good”, he whispers and purrs, rubbing his nose down your neck to your collarbones. “And you’re so soft”, he adds, following it with a small hickey on your left collarbone. And your right one. He doesn’t want it to feel left out.
“When I put your necklace on, I wanted to do this to you”, he confesses, totally sending you down a spiral because...
“What the hell? This is what you were thinking? Oh my god, Yoongi…aaah”, you moan, squirming.
“You’re beautiful”, he rasps and continues his path down to your chest.
He is going to take his time. Just like you did when you explored him. He is going to kiss you, bite the soft spots and lick the tender areas.
Yoongi might have started this evening as an inexperienced idiot, but he will be damned if he lets his inexperience stop him from loving you right. He fantasised about what he would do to you so many times that he has to be an expert at them now that it finally happens. And judging by how much you sigh and moan and squirm, he is doing a good job.
He kisses you, feels you up and uses his mouth on your nipples. He knows that this feels good. You moan because of it, chasing the touches.
For just a second he slips off, trying to dirty talk even if his heart is hammering in his chest.
“You have the prettiest tits. They’re perfect.”
You sigh and arch your back to chase his lips in reaction. Yoongi takes your nipple back inside, closing his eyes. Perhaps he isn’t that bad at dirty talk. You seem to really like it.
Yoongi feels confident in continuing. He explores your tummy and waist, wanting to make you feel so good.
He wasn’t born yesterday. He’s grown enough to know that if it feels good for him, it also feels good for you. So he tries to mimic what you did to him and hopes that it feels good to you. He just doesn’t know how good it actually feels until you break the silence with a curse. He was in such a trance, mind completely focused on you, so hearing you curse feels like a slap to the face.
He is between your legs by now, having nuzzled your inner thighs before. He looks up at you, frozen in panic. Did he do something wrong?
“This is fucking insane, I’m so horny”, you confess and chuckle, “fuck, just lick me.”
Yoongi’s cock tingles. As does his stomach. So you liked it. A lot.
“Do you want it over your panties? Uhm, they’re so pretty”, he asks shyly.
“Thanks, they’re lace.”
“I know. The lacy kind. I like them.”
You meet his eyes. He is shy, but courageous at the same time.
“You say the sexiest stuff. No panties, want you raw”, you say and lift your butt so you can take off your underwear. You lift your legs too, keeping them in the air when you throw the panties to the side.
“Wow, this is…wow”, Yoongi whispers, staring without shame. His mouth is agape, his eyes are widened.
“Come closer, baby.”
“Okay. Like this?”
“Yes, like this.”
Yoongi almost passes out when you put your legs over his shoulders and writhe sensually. This is so hot.
He looks up at you, deep into the sultry eyes you give him.
“You look so good with my legs on your shoulders, handsome”, you coo.
Yoongi snorts a chuckle in coyness, lowering his eyes because he possibly couldn’t look at your eyes anymore. You snicker, enjoying his flustered reaction with a racing heart.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice. He wraps his arms around your thighs and goes down on you, gazing up at you as he does. He needs to see if you like it. You gasp, thighs tensing under his fingers.
Yoongi needs nothing more than the first lick to already be obsessed, moaning into you.
“You taste so good. What the fuck, I missed out big times”, he says and buries himself in you again.
He looks for the good spot with slow flicks of his tongue, making it feel incredible for you without even trying.
“Is nice, baby”, you sigh.
But he thinks that he could do better. Yoongi knows from fanfiction that women can arch their backs from getting ate and you aren’t arching it yet.
He lifts his mouth, gazing at your pussy. He needs to study you, make out where to focus on. His hands rub your inner thighs as he memories the view of you.
“What’s the matter?” you sound desperate.
“Where do you like it most?”
“Oh. Oh wow, this is sexy. I guess I like it here a lot. You know what a clit is, right?” you show it to him.
“I do. Yours is so pretty”, he whispers, drooling.
You mewl and drop in the pillow, “fucking hell, I’m so horny.”
“Same”, Yoongi confesses in the sexiest rasp ever and buries himself back in you. He took a glimpse and thinks that he knows the spot now. He swirls his tongue, waiting for your reaction.
You writhe, rubbing your feet over his back as your legs move with you. A small moan escapes you.
Better. He can do better. Yoongi fixes his tongue. He feels the difference first and sees the effect it has on you second.
You arch your back, twisting the sheets and curling your toes.
“There. What the fuck, ahmm.”
Yoongi feels euphoric. He closes his hands around your waist and presses his tongue closer. He swirls and flicks it, moaning each time you moan and squeezing your waist whenever you writhe.
“Okay. Woah. Ah. Wow. What the fuck? Yoongi, holy fuck”, you get out, genuinely losing it.
The way he goes down on you feels so good that you completely forget that he never did this before. Of course he is a natural. Someone with his pretty mouth and witty tongue has to be good at oral.
“Serious, Yoongi”, you grasp a bundle of his hair, “I’m already close. A-ah…”
Yoongi fucks the sheets, pulling you against his face until your butt is off the sheets. Your legs hook behind his head tightly, he purrs and grasps your hips, moving them for you so you are grinding on his face.
This isn’t like him at all. This can’t be your shy, nerdy best friend. A demon must have replaced him. You lift your head with the little strength you have left, croaking his name.
This is actually him. Yoongi is between your legs, Yoongi is the one who grinds your hips on his face. This is actually him. Yoongi might genuinely go a little feral when he has your pussy on his tongue. She has him acting up. The realisation shoots shakes through your body.
“I can’t. Baby, fucking hell”, you moan, dropping into the pillow again.
Yoongi purrs into you, taking your clit between his lips to suck on her. He ends it by grinding his tongue against her, purring so deeply.
“Holy fuck. Urgh, Yoongi”, you get out, tugging on the sheets and trembling.
Yoongi feels high. He is so eager to get you over the edge. So eager in fact that he starts using his entire mouth for it. Tongue and lips and messy saliva. And of course, he does everything right with it.
He throws you over the edge just like this. Tongue kissing your pussy and using his strength to help you get there easier. He surprises himself as well with how hard it hits you.
“Yoongi!”
He looks up at you in shock. Is he doing This? Is he responsible for the pretty face you are making and the tremors of your body? Yoongi curls his tongue against your throbbing clit, making you moan loudly and writhe. Fuck, he is the one doing this to you.
Yoongi fucks the mattress harshly, speeding up his tongue which results in you to wail up and tug on his hair.
“Yoongi! Ah, Yoongi!”
His name from your mouth. Yoongi feels delirious. This is so hot. He needs more of you. More. He sucks on your clit, totally lost to you.
“Sensitive! Baby, slow down!”
Yoongi can’t hear you, purring around you despite how much he overstimulates.
“Yoongi…baby…slow urgh fuck.”
It takes you quite a lot of strength to actually wrestle him off of you. And he doesn’t let go without complaint. He mewls in distaste, soothing himself by sucking on your inner thighs instead. His grip on you is strong. Which is turning you on so much. Of course someone with his hands has strength in them.
You drop with a groan, squirming from side to side as you try to recover from one of your best highs ever. And it’s by none other than your shy best friend. With surprisingly strong hands. And a really fast tongue. You might not leave this night sane.
“You’re insane.”
Yoongi only stares for a moment before the unbearable desire to kiss you overcomes him. He starts at your tender inner thighs and kisses his way up to your lips eagerly.
He reaches your lips feeling droopy and totally devoted to you. You kiss him back eagerly, playing with his hair. But you don’t get to taste him for long, pulling him back to talk.
“What the fuck was this?” you ask, staring at his puffy, pink lips. They’re still glistening from what he did.
“Why? Was it bad?”
“Uhm, no? Hello? You just made me shake, what the hell?”
Yoongi blushes, looking to the side.
“I just did what I thought would feel good for you”, he mumbles with a pout.
“I can tell you that you did everything right. I’m done for.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, this was it for me.”
Yoongi feels equal parts proud and angry. He made you feel so good, but it was to such a level that you don’t want more.
“What’s with the pout?” you ask him.
“No, it’s nothing.”
You snicker, “you want more, don’t you?”
“Not if you don’t want to.”
“Lie down.”
Yoongi obeys, shivering when you cuddle into his side and begin tracing his torso.
“I’m not done with you either. Don’t you worry. Just need a quick breather.”
He blushes, looking to the side. He is so cute and you are still so droopy from the high he gave you that you end up giggling and stubbing his flushed cheek with your nose. You nuzzle against him afterwards.
“You’re so cute”, you gush.
Yoongi accepts it silently, feeling too flustered to come up with anything. His heart is beating uncontrollably. Naked cuddling is everything. Being called cute comes close second. A kiss on the cheek is third.
“Are you really sure about more?” you ask him.
“Yes”, he nods his head vigorously, but falters as a question runs through him, “are you?”
“Yes I am. Just want to make sure that you’re still comfy. My first time was kinda traumatic, yeah. Don’t wanna do the same thing to you.”
“What? Who was the bastard?” Yoongi asks, furrowing his brows.
“I’m good, god I’m good. It’s been years and I’m over it. God, you’re so cute”, you gush, having to kiss him for being so perfect.
Yoongi is tense at first but relaxes very soon. He melts in your hands, rolling to the side to wrap his arms around you and kiss you deeper. With tongue. It’s perfect. Everything about him is perfect.
It isn’t long and you are both so turned on that you are out of breath as you break the kiss.
“I think I saw condoms in the bedside table”, you say.
“I’ll check”, Yoongi says and flips over.
You use the opportunity to place kisses on his back and shoulder. And Yoongi is done for. He manages just enough to get a condom but then melts into you, eyes closed and butt wiggling against you. All his mind thinks about is last year when you accidentally spooned him and he had to touch himself because of it.
And now he is here. Naked and hot in your arms while you kiss his neck and rub his nipples.
“Please”, he sighs, placing his hand over yours, “please take me, I can’t handle this anymore.”
“Fuck, you say the sexiest stuff”, you rasp and press yourself closer, “condom?”
He shows it to you.
“Yes, thank god. Imagine if there were none and we’d have had to stop because of it.”
“Don’t make me think of that”, he cranes his neck, gazing up at you with the most submissive and devoted eyes ever. “I don’t want this to stop. Not ever”, he whispers.
“Wow you”, you get out. You have to cradle his cheek and rest your forehead against his, rubbing noses together because the intimacy asks for it. “Me neither. This is so sexy, but also feels like everything I ever wanted.”
“Yeah.” He sighs his words. “Just wanna be with you.”
“Then put it on and let me have you, Yoongi baby. Please, I’ll lose my mind otherwise.”
“Yes, okay.”
He wiggles out of your hug and sits up. You sit back, watching him work.
“You know how to do this, don’t you? You have to make sure to pinch the tip of the condom.”
“I know, I’m not a total noob. I did the thing with my tongue and made you cum, remember?” he teases.
He flusters you a little. He can be so sexy with his wit if only he wants to.
“Shut up, you. How could I forget?” you mumble and nudge his arm.
Yoongi smirks lazily, giving you sexy eyes.
You squeeze his arm, “hurry up, I’m serious.”
“Right. Sorry.”
The condom is put on soon after and you can get back to kissing him. You climb his lap, playing with his hair and grinding your pussy against his cock.
Yoongi has to break the kiss because of it.
“Don’t do this.”
“Not a fan?”
“No. Yes! I like it, but I wanna be inside you. Not cum like this.”
“You’re sensitive again, mhm?”
Yoongi pouts, earning himself a kiss and a chuckle.
“You’re so cute.” You kiss his nose. “How do you want it? I could ride you or I could be on my back? Or do you want to slip inside from behind, mhm?”
“The first one sounds good”, Yoongi squeaks out, gulping. The options you listed are so sexy to think about. He feels droopy.
“Okay, then we’ll do it like this. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready”, he whispers, gazing into your eyes like a love drunk puppy.
“Put your hands on my waist.”
He obeys because it comes natural to him to obey you. You lift your hips and shimmy into the right position. He looks up at you. His heart races so much. He is so ready.
You sink him in.
Yoongi widens his eyes and squeezes your waist. A whimper leaves him against his will.
“Slipped right in, baby. How’s it for you?” you talk to him while you sink down.
Better than anything. Life changing. Unlike anything he could have imagined. The best thing ever. So warm. And soft. So fucking warm. Yoongi has no idea how it is for him because he is currently overwhelmed by it.
“A lot”, he gets out, tensing his thighs under you. He can barely keep his eyes open, feeling dizzy.
“Try focusing on me, baby. Breathe.”
Yoongi takes the shakiest and quickest breaths ever, fluttering his pretty lashes at you. You cradle his face with both hands, rocking back and forth as you take him in.
“You’re doing so well, baby. Keep breathing, that’s it.”
Yoongi always thought of himself to be someone independent, someone who doesn’t need to be babied and pampered. But to be honest? Being held like this and talked to in such a caring way feels really fucking good. Like, really fucking good.
He bottoms out and you waste no time, picking up the most lethal rhythm you learned. You swirl your hips, bouncing up and down on him as you do. And Yoongi is a goner. He squeezes his eyes shut, scrunching his nose. He gets out half of your name then only manages to create little sounds. Gasps and mewls and even a few whimpers. And he doesn’t even feel embarrassed about it because you hold his face in such a comforting way, which in return makes him feel so goddamn needy for pampering.
“Pretty, you’re so pretty. And you feel so good, baby. You’ve got the best cock.”
“Be quiet, please”, he croaks, voice slightly pitched and so shaky.
You chuckle, “you’re not into dirty talk?” you ask, knowing very well that this wasn’t the reason why he told you to shut it.
“Please, don’t tease me”, he instantly figures you out, leaning into your touch because it’s so difficult to keep his head held high. He even pouts, cheeks squishing as they melt into your palms.
“I can’t help it, you are so easy to tease”, you whisper and shove him down into the pillow.
“Ah, wait.”
“You okay?”
Yoongi reaches behind his own head, pulling out his glasses. He checks them.
“Okay, they’re good. I laid down on my glasses”, he says and puts them on, “now I see you in 4K again.”
You snicker, “you’re a dork”, you lean down and kiss his cheek, “and you’re so much fun to ride”, you add in a sweet coo, clenching down on him to really get the point across.
Yoongi twists the edge of the pillow and throws his head back, mouth agape and throat producing the sweetest moans. You give his nose and chin a kiss each, then sit up to show him how much better it can feel. You put your hands on his chest, playing with his perky nipples as you pick up speed.
“Wait. Slow. Please”, he begs, mewling each time you bury him deep inside you. His body is trembling so much and he feels so much pressure in his stomach. It is so deep and hot, spreading down his legs as well. He is repeating himself here, but this just feel so fucking good.
“You’re so sensitive”, you tease, slowing down for his sake. You keep him buried deep inside, swirling your hips back and forth while you rub your hands up and down his chest.
He looks up at you, lids heavy and cheeks flushed. His hair is hanging into his face messily, his fingers squeeze your hips.
“I can’t help it”, he breathes out, gasping for air afterwards.
“But you like it, don’t you?” you are teasing him, which Yoongi instantly figures out.
“Please”, he squeezes your hips in warning, “don’t tease me right now.”
You chuckle, bending down to mouth at his jawline, fingers playing with his hair.
“Sorry, you’re so fun to tease, baby”, you rasp and tug on his earlobe with your teeth.
Yoongi mewls, bucking his hips up involuntarily. It knocks a moan out of you, which you let him feel against his ear. Of course it drives Yoongi crazy. Why shouldn’t it? He bucks his hips up again, melting into a mess when you moan in reaction. One more time.
“Fucking shit”, he gets out, rolling his head to the side you are at, claiming your lips in a messy kiss. He even cradles the back of your head for it, holding your waist with his other hand as he rolls his hips up. It’s intense like this, but manageable. He can control the speed like this and he has to concentrate on moving, which means his brain isn’t solely zoned in on the hot tingles.
It’s also fucking ecstatic how much this makes you moan. Yoongi gets so high from it, breaking the kiss to whisper against your lips.
“Your pussy’s heaven.”
You shiver, twirling his hair.
“You know that if you talk like this and – ah – fuck like this, I wanna ruin you?”
“Do your worst then”, he challenges, which thinking back, was a very stupid idea.
You give him a dirty smirk and sit up.
“Right thumb on my clit. Now.”
Yoongi obeys.
“Good. Play with it”, you order and lift your hips only to slam them down as you begin your punishing rhythm.
Yoongi thought that he could do as he was told. Nope. His thumb stays unmoving because his brain stops working as you increase the pleasure by a hundred. He shouldn’t have challenged you. What a stupid fucking thing he did. He is going to climax. It’s too intense.
“Slow. Please slow, I don’t wanna cum already please.”
“Nah, you wanted it, so bear it.”
“Fuck, urgh, fuck ___.” he growls, scrunching his face.
“I know, baby, I know. Just keep breathing”, you coo, arching your back so you can dance your hips on him. It feels fucking incredible to you because his cock hits the best spots and his thumb is perfect to grind on.
“I was wrong, I can’t cum yet. Please.”
“But Yoongi, I love when you cum”, you taunt, smiling wickedly.
Yoongi whimpers, arching his back helplessly. There is no way in hell that he can last any longer. You fucking ruin him.
“Please, I really can’t hold it anymore”, he tries again, grasping your waist to the point where he bruises you accidentally.
“Then don’t, baby. Be my good boy and cum for me.”
Yoongi always fantasized about how it would be to have you order him to climax. This fantasy helped him over the edge so many times in the past. And now it’s actually happening and it sounds so much sexier than he could have ever imagined.
Yoongi orgasms with a moan of your name, throwing his hand over his face and twisting his own hair this way. His thumb stutters on your clit as he uses what last strength he has left to keep it there.
“Oh my god, how do you look so sexy when you cum? Fuck Yoongi, you’re making me cum too”, you confess, tightening around him as your own high hits you. Being with him was enough to get you there.
He comes down first, mewling as you ride out your high and therefore overstimulate his poor cock. When you finally come down as well, Yoongi swears that he is one second away from crying, glasses dirty from pressing his arm against it.
“Oh god, baby”, you whisper shakily, dropping on top of him, “baby. Yoongi baby, oh my god”, you babble, cradling his face as you kiss every single inch of it. “Baby, oh my baby. You were amazing, oh baby just come here, you.”
Yoongi feels so good. Yes, what old news, but fuck he feels so good. Is it actually humanly possible to feel so goddamn satisfied and loved and giddy? Because he thinks that he might be doing something inhuman right now with how fuzzy he feels.
“How are you? Are you okay?”
“M’kay”, he gets out, nodding his head.
“Yeah? You’re okay? Was it good for you?”
“Yeah. But so short…I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was your first time. It’s allowed to be short. Besides, you held out longer than some others. You even thrusted your hips for a little.”
“I guess. I’m…really tired”, he confesses and exhales deeply, rolling his head to the side to stub your palm with his nose. He kisses it next, smiling in such a giddy and pretty way.
Then he giggles, peeling his droopy eyes open to gaze up at you. You scrunch your nose, giggling with him.
“Did we really do this?” he asks.
“We did.”
“Oh god”, he lets out and giggles even harder.
“I know”, you agree, snuggling into him.
He hugs you, rolling to the side so he could really snuggle into you. His dick slips out of you this way, but this is okay because you are hugging and it’s so nice.
It takes you a while to calm down from your giddy giggles and once you do, you are facing each other, sharing air and gazing into each other’s eyes. He is dancing his fingertips up and down your back, while you dance them over his features. His glasses sit on his face weirdly because of the pillow.
He takes them off, snuggling deeper into the pillow afterwards.
“They were annoying.”
“I can imagine.”
That the sex was out of the world is written on both your faces. The silence you share is so familiar, but a hundred times more intimate than it was in the past.
“Does it always feel like this?” he whispers.
“So good?”
“Yeah. I feel fucking amazing. Does it always feel this way?”
“Not with everyone, rarely, I don’t know. It felt like this with you.”
Yoongi’s eyes fill with emotion. He takes a deep breath and exhales, cupping your cheek. You lean into the touch, lowering your lids halfway. You still get butterflies when he touches you like this. He is so gentle with it.
“What are we now?” he asks.
“Can I be honest?”
“Please.”
“If-”
“Actually, if it’s something bad. Can I get dressed first? I don’t wanna get my heart broken naked” he interrupts you.
You chuckle, “can I finish?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. What I wanted to say was. If we are anything other than boyfriend and girlfriend, I will actually cry. I secretly yearned for you for years.”
“I’m so glad that you said this”, he confesses and blushes.
“You are?”
“Yeah. I feel the same”, he says and meets your eyes.
You squeak, having to giggle afterwards because you are so goddamn giddy. Yoongi giggles with you, kissing you back eagerly when you smooch him. And smooch him. And smooch him again.
“Oh my god, Yoongi baby. You’re my boyfie now?”
“Yeah, I’m your boyfie”, he says in a cute way, heart dancing in his chest. “Can I tell people that I’m your boyfie?”
“Of course, oh wow, you’re making my heart burst.” You start babbling which you always do when you’re happy. “Okay, but I need to take you out on a date tomorrow, I’m serious. A real date. Breakfast. The biggest breakfast ever because the restaurant was already closed tonight.”
“What? You didn’t even get dinner?��
“It’s alright. I snacked on you, didn’t I?” you tease, wiggling your brows.
Yoongi looks away, blushing vividly, “shut up, this isn’t funny”, he mumbles, pouting.
You laugh, “I think it is hilarious actually.”
He meets your eyes fondly, squeezing your waist gently.
“Whatever.”
You smile and run your fingers down his temple. Yoongi lowers his lids in relaxation.
“What’s gonna happen to us now?” he asks.
“Right now? We should clean up and pee to prevent UTIs and then we could cuddle.”
“No I mean. For the rest of this trip?”
“Are you trying to figure out if I could be down for more sex?”
He blushes, “maybe?”
You snicker and push him onto his back. You put your arm over his chest, holding his hand above his head. Yoongi looks so happy to be where he is.
“I’d be so down for more”, you tell him, smiling prettily.
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
“Me too. I’m so down”, Yoongi confesses, adding with a blush, “I think I might be obsessed, actually.”
You chuckle fondly and kiss him, knowing that from now on, life will be so much better.
#yoongi smut#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi scenario#yoongi oneshot#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#sub!yoongi#virgin!yoongi#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts scenario#bts oneshot#bts x reader#bts x you#sub!bts#virgin!bts#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fanfiction#bangtan oneshot#bangtan scenario#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you#virgin!bangtan#sub!bangtan
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*.˗ˏˋ Use DEILD to enter the void in secondsˎ˗.*
~featuring a lucid dreamer’s unintended success story I found on YouTube~


Incoming Topics..
*PART 1 <RECAP: What is Deild? >*
*PART 2 < The success story >*
*PART 3 < How to use DEILD for the Void >*
*PART I < What is the DEILD method? > *
If you haven’t read my original post on DEILD I have linked it down below towards the end of this one. I recommend checking it out for an in depth tutorial on the method, but I’ll give a quick explanation here as well-
To put it simply, it is a technique that is traditionally used to get fast and easy lucid dreams. Upon waking you lie still and keep your eyes closed, tricking your body into thinking that you never woke up and then within seconds the dream reforms except now you’re aware in it! You can also create a new dream or you might enter a false awakening which becomes a lucid dream. This method works SO QUICKLY it’s seriously like a LD method shortcut!
I’ve heard of lucid dreamers talking about the void before but after watching a YouTubers video about a lucid dream he had, I realized he actually used the DEILD technique to go straight to the void in SECONDS, unintentionally! Which is something I hadn’t thought about doing before-merging the lucid dream technique WITH 👏🏼 THE VOID 👏🏼 TECHNIQUES!! 👏🏼 So for those of you attempting to enter the void state from a lucid dream, this can be used as a SHORTCUT on top of a SHORTCUT! 🙌🏼 Yes ma’ammmm y’all seriously need to come try this one out because when I say SECONDS I’m talking secondsss-no more waiting 20 minutes for your left brain to turn off, no more long breath work exercises or reality checks or hours of lying still, affirming, no more battling with creating portals-the void can be EFFORTLESS and induced in under a minute.
*PART 2 < The lucid dreamer’s success story> *
There’s this lucid dreamer on YouTube called TIGER123 who posts about lucid dreaming techniques and his own lucid dream experiences- he actually has a video tutorial on DEILD as well (which is linked in my OG DEILD post)
So, I was at work looking for something to watch and saw he posted a new video about a lucid dream he had recently. Well, I can tell you wasn’t expecting him to literally open the video by talking about how he woke up from a regular dream, realized it was the perfect opportunity to perform DEILD and get lucid, and then. AS HE’S PERFORMING DEILD. He enters the void! Just like that. While he was in the void he visualized the dream scene he wanted to be in and he said he was there within 10 seconds. Aka he instantly manifested entering the exact lucid dream he wanted to be in, from the void state.
This is someone who doesn’t believe in shifting or astral projection, wasn’t trying to enter the void, thinks the void is just an unformed lucid dream space that can be used to form a new lucid dream, doesn’t know you can manifest from that state and yet STILL got in and STILL manifested. Since he viewed the void as a place he can form a new lucid dream thats what he did. He still manifested instantly, he just MANIFESTED going from the VS to being in a lucid dream. This should just go to show you guys how REAL the void state is, because someone who doesn’t even know about it and wasn’t trying to get in STILL did it. (SO CAN YOU btw)
The void isn’t a concept created on tumblr. Lucid dreamers have experienced it for years, meditators experience it, yogis, followers of Neville Goddard and multiple religious practices do too; It’s just called by different names and defined differently, but all the experiences describe the same thing. So if tumblr success stories aren’t trustworthy enough to you, or motivating enough-expand your research and find hundreds of stories similar to this one-lucid dreamers thinking it’s just an unformed dream and yogis thinking it’s just a really relaxing deep meditative state etc…
*PART 3< How To Use DEILD to enter the VS> *
I linked the video at the bottom, he doesn’t really talk about the void much or deild because the video is about the actual contents of the dream he had, but the part he does talk about it is right at the beginning, the first 30 seconds or so, if you’re curious in checking it out but this is pretty much what he said about it, written out-
“First I was in a space dream and then I woke up and kind of realized I had just woken up from a dream and was able to stay still and kind of reenter into it and fall back asleep and I ended up in the void. You know that like complete blackness where it’s really easy to reform the dream and since I was there I figured I would just try to go to the beach because when I’m in this void state I can really go anywhere I want. I just reformed the beach and I ended up on the exact beach I was imagining in like 10 seconds.”
So boom. Thats’s it thats ALL. That simple. So here’s the exact steps to do if you want to enter the void through DEILD too and be the next success story:
Before bed: affirm “I will remember to stay still upon awakening. I will effortlessly enter the void using DEILD” or some variation of this (optional)
Visualize yourself waking up, staying still, and entering the void state (optional)
Go to sleep, with the calm certainty that this will work.
Wake up. Keep your eyes closed and lie still
You can keep a blank mind and wait, trusting that your subconscious will induce the void automatically, since you already set the intention the night before
5a. Or right after waking, with your eyes closed you can begin affirming that you are pure consciousnes and imagine yourself already in the void, or imagine yourself sinking gently down into the void state until you are truly there. This method is so effective you should be in the state within a minute or less.
And remember, the void state can’t be forced, just like sleep can’t be forced. All you can do is create the right conditions for it to occur naturally. It’s okay if you don’t get it right away. Focus on trust, not control. Avoid over analyzing whether it’s working while you’re performing the technique, just allow it to flow and happen. You saw he just literally lied still waiting for the dream to form and then he was in. It’s that effortless. Give it a go and report back in the comments 🫶🏼 Happy enteringgg
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Tw: almost dying, muscle spasms, seizures and weird body fuckery.
I just had my second ER trip of the month. I thought the amitriptyline was making my heart weird in a non-POTSy way and I had a feeling that something was just wrong. So I woke Mothman up and asked him to take me to the ER.
Which is just as well because as soon as we got there I started experiencing uncontrollable muscle spasms and my resting heart rate shot up to 150.
The triage nurse bolted me through the corridors into a room of about four doctors and seven nurses. The rest is a blur but I remember crying for Mothman because I couldn't see him past the wall of medical people around me.
Turns out I was extremely hypocalcemic, as in my blood results for my ionized calcium levels were so low it was a medical emergency. If I’d stayed home and assumed my rapid heart was from POTS I likely would have had a seizure or possibly a heart attack.
The doctor in charge told me he’d only ever seen the spasmodic movements I was making in textbooks before, but it was so distinctive he knew right away it was hypocalcemia. Blood tests confirmed it. My serum levels were “normal” but my ionozed levels were virtually zero.
Also, my thyroid is shot. I need to get more tests done. Possibly linked to the hypocalcemia. Possibly why my migraines have been so bad. Basically it was the b12 fiasco all over again. All my test results looked normal until I almost died
Again.
Anyway. I’m home now after being given a massive dose of IV calcium and a ton of othe meds. Sadly, I’m not allowed to take the amitriptyline anymore, at least until we’ve figured out my thyroid and why my calcium was so low while still appearing normal. Thankfully I was only on it for a week at a very low dose so the side effects of coming off it cold turkey shouldn't be too bad. I’m dreading the head pain returning. But who knows, maybe the massive dose of calcium will help with that. Keep your fingers crossed for me, eh?
I’m going to try and sleep.
Or just stare into the void for a bit. Haven’t decided yet.
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MW2 Reaction to You Being A Virgin
Warnings: 18+, Implications of Smut, Corruption Kink, Purity Kink, Innocence Kink, Ownership Kink, Age Gap, Implied Slight Yandere Graves Inexperience, Objectification, Dominant MW2, Soft MW2, Gaz is anxious :-( but trying his best, MW2 Trying To Be Smooth, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
Ghost
The fact that you, innocent, are his to love and corrupt sends white-hot anticipation between his legs.
He’s imagined what you’d be like in bed: how you’d take him, the sounds you’d make. Of course he has – practically everyone on Base has.
But now, his fantasies are tinged with something feral. A primal need to show you that he is the best choice for you (even if he doesn’t believe it himself) – the only one strong enough and skilled enough to be yours and to make you his.
He’s fantasised about you looking up at him with doe eyes while he pins your wrists to the mattress, voice meek as you tell him, as if it’s a secret, that you’ve “Never done this before…”
He can’t live without it. The fact that he can – will – be your first time. Satisfy you in ways nobody else will ever be able to compete with.
He’d never admit it, but a dark part of him has plagued him with ideas of ravaging and corrupting you, about making your first time so pleasurable and carnal that nobody will ever be able to satisfy you as he can.
“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he tells you, taking your chin between his fingers. He lowers his lips to your ear. You don’t see the dark gleam in his eye. Don’t see the deliciously dark idea cross his mind – the impulse to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to feel anything, nevermind pain. And he makes a promise to you anyway.
“I’ll take care of you.”
König
“Thought as much.” König’s words are blunt yet sharp.
“Seeing as you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it’s clear you have no regard for the way you conduct yourself.”
You may construe König’s words as mean. Derogatory, even. He means it as a compliment. Even if you don’t know it yet.
“You think I don’t see the way you flaunt yourself in front of the soldiers – thinking that you’ll be able to get away with it without consequence.”
König’s frame towers over you. His gaze is ice, and any trace of the socially anxious soldier you knew is gone.
“I wonder how you like it.” he muses aloud. His voice is tinged with something unreadable. Venomous.
“How you’ll take it. Rough, gentle…” His eyes narrow.
“Mean.”
He’s boxed you in with his stature alone.
“Makes no difference to me,” he tells you. Deceptively calm. And then, an offer. One you can’t refuse.
“I’ll fuck you every which way until I find what makes you scream the loudest.”
Soap
“Oh, really?” he says, eyebrow quirked and a hidden smile teasing his lips.
Johnny really couldn’t care less that you’ve never had sex before. But, the fact that you shared this information with him – albeit after he steered the conversation towards more…intimate topics – gave him hope that you were hinting towards something.
Something that Johnny’s wanted since he realised he was massively, whorishly down bad for you.
From his position opposite you, against the kitchen counter, he takes a step forward.
“I suppose you’re not very experienced then, are you?”
He advances until he’s in front of you. A wolf and a lamb. Close enough that you can smell his cologne.
His eyes are piercing, but there is a softness behind them. Something that writhes and wants and needs.
His hands come to rest upon the counter behind you. Nowhere for you to run. The heat from his body is scorching.
“Though, I’d be more than happy to…” His voice husks. “Beef up your résumé.”
Valeria
Corruption kink to the MAX
Valeria is a territorial, dominant woman – that much is easy to see.
And the fact that you haven’t had anyone else before her just does something to her.
Alters her brain chemistry permanently.
There’s not one soldier, police officer or government official she doesn’t own in Las Almas.
So why shouldn’t she own you, too?
Now she’s thinking of every conceivable way she’s going to take ownership of you.
She thinks about it so often that she struggles to complete her paperwork without having to disperse the issue before she can continue.
But be warned: there will come a day when satisfying herself just won’t cut it. When she’s going to seek you out and ruin you.
“It might hurt at first, mi Amor,” she tells you, hand stroking your cheek, coming down to your jaw. “But trust me when I say that–”
Her hand grips your jaw. Tight. A viper’s strike. A fire burns in her eyes and the corners of her lips curl up in a cruel smile.
“I’ll make it hurt a whole lot more if you don’t do as I say.”
Price
Given his age, Price has had his fair share of experiences.
But that doesn’t harden him to the simple fact that you haven’t.
In his eyes, there’s something endearing about how you’ve yet to give yourself to another person.
Another person that, he hopes, will someday be him.
The idea makes something in him stir. The fact that the difference between your age and his makes him that much more confident in his ability to please you in ways no mere boy can makes him anxious to act.
“Oh. Is that right, Love?” He says, eyes light and his smile dangerous.
“S’ppose you’re waiting for the right person.” His posture is inviting. Tempting. Belies the rush he’s feeling — the desire to have you at his mercy in the most carnal sense.
“Pretty little thing like you, you could have your fill of men.”
He’s angling for something. His face says it all.
He steps towards you. Again. Again. He’s in front of you.
His chest is almost to yours. His smile is shallow now. Strained. Like his pants.
“Probably looking for someone with experience.”
He thrives on the way your chest flutters. His does, too, but it’s masked beneath a heavy stare.
“And trust me, Love,” his voice is low. A message for you and you alone as he brings his lips to your ear, breath hot against your skin.
“I’ve got plenty to spare.”
Horangi
You don’t hear it for his mask, but Horangi lets out a shuttered breath.
“That’s why you’re always so quiet when sex talk comes up.”
He says it as a fact, but you take it as a question. You nod.
Horangi’s arms unfurl from his chest, come to rest at his sides. He’s looking at you.
Even through the layers of his mask, his gaze is heavy. Leaden.
He steps towards you. His frame, broad, fills your vision.
You can hear how heavy his breathing has become. How thick the air is.
How much he’s trying to restrain himself.
“How about a deal,” he proposes. Commands.
“You give me something to have a nice, long, hard think about,” his hips are to yours. You feel him pressing against you.
“And I’ll give you something to talk about.”
Alejandro
“You surprise me, mi amor,” he says, natural as anything. As if he already knew.
“I’d have thought someone would have swooped in and claimed you by now.”
Truth be told, Alejandro wanted to be that somebody so badly that it made him ache in places he’d rather not think about. Especially when you’re already making containing himself incredibly difficult with that pouting, wide-eyed, innocent look.
God, you had no idea what you were doing to him.
“Or…are you saving yourself for someone specific?”
Before you, his frame is broad and imposing even without all his military gear on.
He takes your chin between his fingers. Tilts your head so your gaze can’t escape his. A shiver runs up his spine at the sound of your breath stuttering.
His words aren’t rhetorical. He’s pulled the answer from you – seen it in your eyes.
“Or are you just waiting for a man who knows how to take care of you?”
Rodolfo
“O-oh!” Rudy chokes out. His cheeks are already giving way to a telltale pink. He tries to cover it.
“But– you’re so pretty and smart and kind – I thought you’d have a boyfriend by now!”
In some ways, Rudy’s a bit of a traditionalist: his mind still jumps to the idea that you’d typically only be intimate with someone you’re already in a relationship with.
Not that he’d judge you if this were not the case for you.
But he sees his chance. And he takes it.
“Well, if you’re not with anyone, then…would you like to go out sometime? With me?”
His eyes are wide and filled with hope – something you’d never have expected from a man in such a brutal line of work.
Sex is the last thing on his mind right now: truly, he’s so taken in with the idea that you’re single and available that your sexual status means very little to him.
Though, that isn’t to say he hasn’t thought about you like that before, or that he hasn’t spent many a night with his face smothered with pillows as your name escapes from between his lips, panting, moaning.
That’s a little secret for you to uncover later in your relationship…
Graves
“So you’re tellin’ me that no one’s had the privilege of fuckin’ that pretty little ass of yours?”
Graves sure has a way with words.
For all his slimy business practices, this is the one time he’s genuinely surprised. Unable to be slick.
He puts his game face on. Gives you a half-lidded stare and lowers his voice. His heart hammers: he conceals it behind a cool tone.
“Well, colour me impressed, Angel,” he says. A hand comes to the hem of your shirt, takes it between slow, intentional fingers. He has to resist the urge to look at your chest when he pulls the fabric taut.
“And here I was thinkin’ I already knew everything about you.”
He’s moving in before you can analyse his statement. Before you can begin to understand how badly this man has lusted after you – how deeply entrenched in your life he’s become. And all without you knowing.
He places a hand on the wall behind you. Presses himself closer to you.
“How much to let me be the first,” he drawls. Your eyes widen. His thin smile grows.
“And last.”
Gaz
Bless his little cotton socks, he doesn’t know what to do with both this information and himself.
See, despite being incredibly intelligent, Gaz is still the youngest of the 141, so he’s not entirely accustomed to situations like this.
He can’t tell if you’re hinting, flirting, or just telling him something about yourself.
He remembers what Soap taught him, though.
Should a situation arise where someone is flirting with you, just use your intuition and don’t fuck it up.
Gaz leans against the doorframe, almost misses, scrambles to resume his ideal posture.
“Oh, so we’re more similar than you’d think, then.”
He can feel Soap banging his head against a wall. Jesus, Gaz – at least try to impress (Y/N) !
At your raised eyebrow and your playful “Oh?” Gaz coughs. His voice lowers.
“But…” he steps closer. “Maybe we can un-virgin each other.”
Long story short, Gaz has no idea what he’s talking about. But, somehow, his nervous disposition and pretty boy charm have enamoured you. And you may have told him you’d take him up on his offer 👀.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
#mw2 smut#mw2 x reader#cod x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#konig x reader#konig smut#ghost x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#john price smut#soap x reader#ghost smut#alejandro vargas x reader#valeria garza x reader#kyle gaz garrick#rodolfo parra#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod
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flustered ۶ৎ megumi x reader
⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ theme : you are crushing on megumi , while being sure he doesn't like you back. however, things change once you see him get flustered for the first time.
⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ words : 1,6 k
⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ chars : megumi , yuji , nobara

ever since you started hanging out with yuji and nobara, the fourth guy of your small friend group caught your attention. megumi.
megumi was someone who didn’t show much emotion or compassion towards anyone, yet you still felt like he was experiencing more feelings and thoughts than anyone else. he just probably didn’t feel the need to express them to anyone and besides, he always showed his love for his friends through action rather than words.
your little crush on him wasn’t exactly subtle, at least in yuji’s or nobara’s opinion.
”you’ve planned your whole wedding together, haven’t you? names of kids too, right?” nobara teased.
”you should just tell him how you feel! megu is like the last person who’d make fun of you” yuji urged as he shook you by the shoulders.
you knew yuji was right, but you were scared nonetheless. megumi didn’t seem like the person who’d enjoy a relationship, and on top of all, he was probably the only one who didn’t realize how badly you were crushing on him.
megumi and you were currently walking through the mall, to find some gift for nobara for her birthday. yuji wasn’t with you today, since he had some sort of a meeting with your teacher, gojo.
”how about this? she’s into fashion, isn’t she?” you suggested as you picked a fashion magazine where there was a picture of some beautiful yet confident looking woman on the cover, wearing a leather jacket and shades.
megumi was standing next to you with his white button up shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. he leaned in slightly closer to inspect the cover, which resulted shivers on your skin from the sudden close proximity you two had.
”i think it’s a little boring” he shrugged casually, with that same stoic and nearly bored tone. you tilted your head back to look at him, and you were met with his dark blue eyes staring down at you.
”you’re not helpful, megu” you huffed and threw the magazine back into the stack.
he shoved his hands into the pockets of his black slacks and sighed a little.
”how about we grab something to eat? you’re getting hangry and i can’t deal with you like that” he stated bluntly, but his voice carried nothing actually offending or angry. megumi just was like that – honest, blunt and straight forward. and it was one of the main reasons you liked him so much.
”idiot” you grumbled and pouted, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks. ”i’m not hangry”
”right. sure”
however you two decided to head to a small diner that was in the lower floor of the mall. you often visited this certain place with your friend group, since it had all sorts of snacks in their selection.
you decided to order a smoothie with a bagel, while megumi ordered a simple coffee and an omelette. on top of all, he asked the waitress to remove the tomatoes and red onion from it, meaning it was basically an omelette with only salt and pepper in it now.
you took a sip from your smoothie as you watched megumi cut his omelette into pieces. even though you and him had your quiet moments where neither of you spoke, you weren’t bothered by it. in fact, the quietness between you two was always peaceful and it felt safe.
”how about some makeup? like a lipstick or, i don’t know, eyeshadow?” you suggested next, mouth full of bagel.
megumi looked up at you, his thick lashes nearly reaching his eyebrows.
”that could do. i saw her wearing orange eyeshadow the other day” he commented, a hint of curiosity peeking into his tone.
of course he did. he fucking noticed everything.
you chuckled as you took another bite of the bagel, a few pieces of feta falling on the plate from the stuffed bagel. there were only a few customers in the restaurant currently, all of them enjoying their meals in the red booths.
”eyeshadow palette it is, then. congrats, you’re finally helpful” you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.
megumi rolled his eyes playfully, a hint of a smirk appearing on him as well.
”i’m helpful when i feel like it”
after you two had finished your meals, the waitress came up to you again. she was an older lady with red lips and a wide friendly smile.
”so, you two are ready, i assume? any dessert for the young couple?”
at that word, you felt like your heart exploded and the blood from it rushed straight to your face and ears. you practically physically felt how your cheeks flushed with bright red and uncomfortable sweat formed inside your shirt, probably on your forehead as well.
you glanced up at megumi, assuming he would say something to the waitress since he was usually the one who handled the talking. however, it seemed like he wasn’t capable of talking either – his usually pale cheeks had pink blush plastered on them as well.
it was probably the first time ever you had seen megumi flustered. speechless, eyes wide, staring at the waitress as if he had been caught of doing something illegal.
it shocked you.
”um, n-no thanks! we’ll pay” you managed to stutter out with an awkward laugh.
the waitress nodded with a smile and left.
you turned to look at megumi, and you saw him awkwardly scratching the back of his messy raven hair.
”unless, y-you would had wanted dessert?” you tried to ask as casually as possible, silently thinking about ice cubes and winter so the hot blush on your face would disappear or at least ease down.
”no thanks. i don’t like sweet that much” megumi grumbled, the blush on his cheeks slowly disappearing. but you noticed how he was still avoiding your eye contact, as if he was afraid to face you.
megumi was flustered and awkward… around you? could this mean what you thought it could?
you had to tell nobara and yuji about this as soon as you could.
the rest of your shopping trip went normally, despite the fact your energies were now changed.
somehow it felt like there was an underlying tension between the two of you now. as you walked through the mall, the subtle space between your arms felt almost electrifying. of course, you had wanted to touch and be close to megumi for a while now, but now it felt different. as if everything about megumi’s presence was practically pulling you closer to him, as if the air around you was forcing your auras to emerge. you couldn’t understand how a single interaction with a third party member could change the situation this much.
but of course, the self doubt inside of you still wasn’t sure what this was. you didn’t know if you were just imagining things, because every time you glanced at megumi’s face, it seemed like he was just as casual and calm before. like nothing had changed after all.
but fuck, you weren’t imagining earlier when the pretty pink blush practically washed through his face. how his usually half lidded eyes were wide and he was unable to speak.
that was why you had to have a meeting with yuji and nobara alone, asap.
later that same night you fell onto your bed and texted the two to come into your dorm right away. both of them knew what it was about, since you told them not to invite megumi.
nobara and yuji crashed into your dorm the second you opened the door for them.
yuji jumped onto your bed and immediately sprawled his limbs cockily, while nobara grabbed one of his legs and yanked him down on the floor with a thump.
”get off, idiot!” she exclaimed and took his place.
”ouch! you could’ve killed me!” yuji whined from the floor, rubbing the back of his head with a pouty look.
”cry about it” nobara smirked and crossed her arms.
you snickered as you closed the door, not even a tiny bit surprised by the way they acted.
once the atmosphere had calmed down, you explained them the whole thing that happened back in the diner, all the way from megumi’s blushing to the energy change between the two of you.
”he blushed?!” nobara practically screamed, big eyes blinking from disbelief. you nodded.
”furiously” you confirmed.
she and yuji glanced at each other, both equally dumbfounded as if they had heard something life changing. to be honest, it was life changing.
”i’ve never seen the dude blushing, seriously. the last time i even saw him smile was when he petted his divine dogs and that happened like, what, two weeks ago?” yuji continued.
you remembered that sight very well, as well. megumi crouched down, smiling gently as his large hands rubbed the soft fur of his dear dogs.
”exactly! so the conclusion is that he’s crazy about you, girl. that’s no coincidence!” nobara said proudly.
you blushed a little and sighed, still not convinced by them. ”i don’t know, it could just be that he’s awkward in situations like that where girls are mentioned. like, he’s not used to thinking about relationships and all that” you tried to reason, with a desperate tone.
nobara immediately laughed and shook her head. ”nope, that’s not true. i witnessed first hand when megumi was asked about his type in women, and he was completely cool and unbothered by the question. it’s just you, girl, who’s making him flustered” she smirked knowingly.
you bit your lip in thought, and a glimpse of hope swelled in your chest. could it really be that megumi would like you back? seriously?
a couple hours later when you tried to get sleep, the thoughts of megumi lingered in your mind. the depth of blue in his soft yet stoic eyes, his perfect sharp nose and those long, boney fingers. it all drove you nearly insane, your heart almost bursting to the idea of having him here next to you. his fresh, clean natural scent brought you so much comfort you couldn’t even explain it. if only, you’d have a chance to somehow confront him without actually exposing your feelings for him.
though, little did you know, nobara and yuji as mischievous bastards, were planning to set you and megumi up.
part 2 here 𐙚
#jjk x reader#jjk#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#megumi x you#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#megumi x y/n#megumi fluff#yuji itadori#itadori#megumi x oc#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi x you#fushiguro megumi smut#nobara kugisaki#itadori yuuji#jjk megumi#jujutsu megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#fushiguro megumi#jjk megumi x reader#jjk itadori#jjk nobara#satoru gojou
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IT STARTED WITH THE CAT DISTRIBUTION SYSTEM
Cat distribution system featuring Phainon.
Part 1. Part 2. (Current) Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.
In which• The Deliverer of Amphoreus is suddenly transported to your home as a cat.
Living with your cat has never been this refreshing. Life college may be giving you lemons, at least you now have a cat with you.
Mr. Blue Balls- you named him. A bit(?) unhinge but meh. His eyes are blue and the cat has balls. The cat even looked traumatized, went limp on your arms as if his soul just left his body after you just suddenly flip him over to look at his rear.
He wasn’t even able to look at you for a while an hour, hiding at the corner or under your table when you look at him. It was as if you just stole him all of his dignity. You did, you just didn’t know.
You even have to bribe him with tuna so that he’ll get out of his hiding spot. He’s that embarrassed. And that what makes you want to tease him more.
So you better stock more tuna to bribe him after or else he may not let you cuddle him anymore.
Anyways, aside from teasing your cat, you talked with him. Like a full rambling talk. It’s way better than talking with yourself when you are alone. Now, you have a cat you can talk trauma dump.
Although it seems to be therapeutic for you. But for him? Not at all.
I mean it’s nice hearing you talk–about yourself, your life, problems, etc. Phainon doesn’t mind that at all. What he does mind is that when you talk about this game.
About them, his friends, his world.
Have you ever seen those cat videos where the cat doesn’t seem to know if it’s alive? Just looking at nothingness? Well that’s what happens.
At first you find it cute. It happened after you played with the game. He sat on your lap as you did the trailblaze mission with Mydei. You got busy so you really haven’t really done it yet. So as you played, you keep rambling to him about your pain and resentment about the quest.
*Anaxa died*
“Fuck you Hoyoverse! Why is it always the hot men??!!!”
*10 mins after the start of 3.3*
“OmfG can’t you give me a breakkkk?? Agleaaaaa noo! Fuck you Caenis! Fuck youjsjdhhdvdjsjsvshsk”
So yeah, a bit of mental break down here and there together with your cat that seems to be meowing at it in disbelief.
Cue: existential crisis
Phainon had it hard to accept that all he had experienced was just part of a program of code and game. So he can’t help but to get lost in his thoughts sometimes.
Either staring at nothing or at you. You swear his eyes either glows or flicker from blue to yellow.
It took him about a week to accept everything. He still think of finding a way home though. After all, he still has a world to save. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it here. He’ll miss you when he leaves.
You may be a bit hyperactive, unhinged roommate/owner?, but you cared for him. Which he is grateful for. And you may or may not have been growing on him.
So yeah, just keep talking and he’ll be listening to you. You are quite cute when you do it after all.
Oh? A livestream for the next patch? He doesn’t know what that is but you can watch it together.
Is-is that me? Holy Kephale he look so coo-
“HOT! That’s MY MANN!!! Plsplspls Phainon go home the kids misses you plsplspls!🙏”
But he’s already home though *meow purrs lick*
He’s still a cat so until then he doesn’t mind giving you cuddles and kisses. I mean how awkward would it be?
He did wonder though how will you react if he turns back to normal.
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The Irkutsk Molotochniki: AKA The Academy Maniacs (BIG info post)

NOTE: Haiii!! Sorry I haven’t been posting, I got a life! I’ve been writing this since AUGUST! But took a 3 month break. I kinda rushed the trial but everything else comes from Russian articles! <3
Early Life
Artyom Alexandrovich Anoufriev
RUSSIAN: Артём Александрович Ануфриев
Born October 4th, 1992, in Irkutsk Russia to mother Nina Ivanovna Anoufrieva and no father had been described positively by classmates despite being an outcast and his hard home life. Including a family friend who had known him ‘from the cradle’ who characterized Artyom as “Artyom is a good-natured boy, polite, I’ve never heard a bad word from him,”. According to his headmaster his mother had taught time to hate people and give given bad grades, would try coerce the teacher into psychologically pressuring her son. Artyom had good grades especially in English and literature, he had also shown interest in music and took lessons for the guitar and double bass. He had also joined, sang and played in a local music group before the groups organizer left.

Artyom as a kid
During his older years Artyom started to mature and became more out going while his grades deteriorated. He shortly graduated high school with sufficiency. In his senior year his class filmed a farewell video, in which everyone gave their opinion on what happiness meant to them. In the video Artyom answer was: "To be honest, I do not know what happiness is. But I would really like to quickly find out what it is.".
After graduation Artyom went onto Irkutsk State Medical University while working at an art museum.
Three months before his arrest Artyoms neighbours reported hearing yelling and banging on the walls, like he was hitting the wall with his fists or running at it full speed. Artyom would yell “I hate everybody” and “I will kill you”. During the investigation Artyom would admit that at times his relationship with his mother was strained, and that he’d fear he wouldn’t be able to prevent himself from killing her. According to Artyoms lawyer, Svetlana Kokareva, he often talked negatively about his mother and called her ‘defective’ as well as a generally negative attitude towards women. Nikita also reportedly experienced similar: his depression worsened, he stopped communication with family and he started experiencing insomnia.
Nikita Vakhtangovich Lytkin
RUSSIAN: Никита Вахтангович Лыткин
Born March 24th, 1993, in Irkutsk Russia to his mother Marina, who worked at a shoe store and to a father who left the family shortly after Nikita was born. His father than married another woman who died shortly after and whose son committed suicide in the wake of his mothers death. Nikita’s father would return but leave after due to his depression from his deceased ex wife. During Nikita’s childhood he would come and go. Many accounts say Nikita was bullied at school and instead of standing up for himself he would just reply with “die.” Because of this, Nikita was given the nickname ‘Jimbo’ as a reference to Jimbo Jones, a bully from ‘the simpsons’.

Nikita as a kid
During junior high Nikita would do very well at studying and had good marks, he did not like math very much and in 5th grade was assigned to a special math class do to poor test results. Besides his good grades, Nikita was unsociable and uncommunicative. One family friend says this is because Nikita was jealous of his classmates with richer families. Because of his poor socialization Nikita started losing relations to friends.

Nikita’s childhood home
Meeting
At a mutual friends birthday party Nikita (10) and Artyom (11) met, with the two studying at the same school but one studying a grade higher. The two quickly grew close and Nikita fell into a deep depression, only trusting Artyom at the time, the two supported each other. Artyoms mother did not support the twos friendship and stated that she thought Nikita would have a bad influence on her son. However, after graduating Artyom would continue to study and even enroll into medical school unlike Artyom, Nikita did not. In several reports Nikita either dropped out of school or got expelled for insufficient grades.
During their friendship the started a punk-rock band called ‘Злые гномы’ the band didn’t last long but in 2008 the band was able to put out an album called ‘Чёрные полосы крови’ (AKA. Black Streaks Of Blood) the pair soon started another band, a noise band, named ‘Расчленённая ПугачОва’ or ‘Dissected PugachOva’.
Violent Interests
The duo both had a common interest of maniacs and murderers. The most relevant being the Irkutsk ‘Blood Money Gang’ in March of 2010. The gang being led by 22-year-old Konstantin Shumkov. Shumkov though he was expelled from his educational institution, wanted to work with children. He gathered a group of teenagers from dysfunctional families to kill 5 homeless people and attack 3 others in 2009. The pair followed the news very closely and even dedicated an album to the gang with songs like “Killing is cool!”, “Massacre at a maternity hospital” and “I killed a homeless man”. Nikita also reportedly made a social media group out of sympathy for the gangs leader named ‘Irkutsk Anti Bom-Gang: Blood Magic’ in the introduction fornthe group the group declares their hopes to continue Shumkovs work.
“The "Dismembered PugachOva" group will continue the work of the "Blood Magic" not only in the musical sense, but also in the real sense. [...] There is no place for posers in our group. Only those who decide the fate of cattle or are only going to start serious actions are allowed. If you are determined, you are here.”
As well, they would most videos of the murders in the groups and told the members to ‘abandon empty posturing and commit at least one murder’
You may wonder how people didn’t think of that as a red flag, well, many visitors thought that the videos they posted were staged and that they were ‘young liars and braggots’.
The two made other social media groups such as "We are gods", "Pichushkin - our president" a reference to a fellow Russian serial killer and "Dissected Pugachova"in reference to their band by the same name. However I could not find what exactly they posted.
Possible Motives
There are a few theories on what the duos motives were, one theory is that they were pushed by Nationalist propaganda. Since for a while Artyom was apart of a white power skinhead group and given the nickname “Fashik- Natsik”. From Artyoms suggestion Nikita would converse online with the skinheads but was ultimately denied part in the group due to his discrediting Ossetian patronymic Vakhtangovich (Iranian-Caucasian decent). Their affiliation with the skinheads didn’t last, as one investigator states ‘they immediately sensed their animal cruelty and rejected them’ another report stated that Artyom felt the groups ideology was ‘too passive and soft’. The then leader of the skinheads ‘Boomer’ stated later in court that ‘Anoufriev felt hatred towards everyone, and did not care whom he killed’. After being arrested in the pre-trial detention room Anoufriev made a message that stated:
"I want to apologize to everyone. My advice to parents: forbid your children to visit sites of nationalistic nature in social networks,"
However, the duo isn’t thought to be hate oriented since they didn’t have any nationality in mind. Nor did they care about homeless people or immigrants. Anoufriev and Lytkin simply hated all of humanity all together and even openly stated it. A motive that both Anoufriev and Lytkin confirm is their desire to imitate other serial killers.
According to Anoufriev the idea of murder was Lytkins.and claimed that it, unlike Lytkin, did not give him the satisfaction he had hoped for. He says he only did it “he put it where it wasn’t necessary” and described Lytkin with "I will just say—he is a leader. He did not influence, but was an instigator of crimes,". However, during the investigation Anoufriev stated that he was planning on moving to St.Petersburg and commit more crimes had he not been arrested. Investigator, Yevgeny Karchevsky reports that Lytkin admitted that he couldn’t have done it alone and stated that “it wasn’t interesting to one” and “Artyom and I did it- I liked it”. Lytkin also stated, like Anoufriev, that he would’ve kept killing had he not been caught.
The two stated they would walk from 6pm - 10pm around the “State University” transport stop in Akademgorodok. They would miss 5-20 people while looking for a suitable victim.
Timeline of Crimes
November 14, 2010 - Anoufriev and Lytkin attacked an 18-year-old Anastasia Markovskaya while she was walking from the 19th school bus stop in the way of the Novo-Irkutsky Village. The two tried bashing her head in to which they were in some reports, scared off, while in others she played dead. Markovskaya reported on the Akademgorodok online forum about the attacked. Where Anoufriev and Lytkin responded and asked her how it felt to be beaten.
November 24, 2010 - the pair attacks an unnamed 46-year-old woman, stealing her bag.
December 1, 2010 - the pair attacks a woman, stealing 500 rubles which they used to buy mallets. Later the same day the pair spotted a 12-year-old Danil Semyonov going down a snowy hill on his sled. Nikita initiated a the idea of killing Semyonov to Artyom since he was a weak victim who couldn’t put up a strong Defense. After catching Semyonov Nikita struck him in the back of the head, knocking him down. Artyom then hit him with a baseball bat, Nikita then stabbed Semyonov in the temple with a penknife. Later when Danils mother and bother had found him and had paramedics called to the scene. However, after being caught in a traffic jam, Semyonov was dead before arrival. On Semyonov’s arm was found a hematoma (also known as, a bruise) curating the idea he either fought back or was grabbed roughly. The next day his sled was found in good condition. Semyonovs parents and police didn’t think it was a homicide and instead an accident, that he simply hit a birch tree at high speeds. However later Anoufriev and Lytkin stated that the boy was simply ‘training’ for them. He was the first victim killed.
December 16, 2010 - nearly 20m from the spot Semyonov was killed, a 69-year-old Olga Mikhailovna was found. Olga had been a researcher at the Research Institute for solar and terrestrial physics. The pair killed her quickly unlike Semyonov. She was found with 30 knife wounds. Nikita and Artyom had also made an audio recording discussing how they’d kill her, after which they recorded the murder.
December 29, 2010 - The pair first attacked 29-year-old Valentinovna Svetlova at 6am, who escaped. The pair only took her purse which they then threw out. She miraculously survived her attack. An hour after her attack 22 year-old coach Yekaterina Karpova, Karpova was pregnant during her attack while walking home with her 6-year-old niece Olga Averina. While walking to the railroad Karpova reported that she saw the pair but didn’t engage. While crossing the railroad the two were attacked by Nikita and Artyom, Averina managed to escape with being hit by Nikita in the sides, later being diagnosed with extensive hematoma in the liver area. Karpova had, had her skull crushed in and fingers snapped despite screaming that she was pregnant. The killers were scared off by a car pulling out from around the corner. In result to this, Karpova and her pregnancy miraculously survived.
January 1, 2011 - Around 5am Artyom and Nikita attacked a homeless man who lived near some garbage cans, inflicting 40 hit to him as well as smashing his head in with mallets. He died later in hospital and has been deemed ‘Corpse No.20’ since authorities couldn’t identify the man.
On January 15th a 19-year-old homeless man named Vladimir Bazilevsky, who had bloodied clothes was detained on suspicion of the previous murder. During the interview he told officials that he had spent the night in a sewer well however, officials began to make him believe otherwise and how Bazilevsky put it “Knocked a murder confession” out of him. After more investigation he was wrongfully convicted of murder and in April of 2011 was sentenced to 4 years. After the actual killers were arrested, DNA of the blood on his clothes didn’t match any of the victims. In May of 2012 after serving over a year and a half of prison time, Bazilevsky was released and all charges against him were dropped.
January 30, 2011 - The pair attacked a student named Oleg Semyonov who was returning home from a night club. He survived with head wounds, a concussion and traumatic brain injury.
February 3, 2011 - The pair attacks an unidentified elderly woman whom survived with a head injury.
February 8-9 date unknown, 2011 - At night the pair attacks another woman whom survived due to a passing by car.
February 21, 2011 - While walking home drunk from visiting his sister Alexander Petrovich Maximov was attacked and killed. His jaw and head had been completely broken, as well he had been decapitated with remainders of his skull being found afterwards. Lytkin shot him in the head with a Baikal air pistol and Anoufriev had tried to remove his eyes, but ultimately failed lacking the proper knowledge. Maximov had a closed casket funeral, unable to have an open casket.
February 27, 2011 - Lytkin single-handedly attacked a woman by the name of Nina Kuzmina whom was sitting on a bench located on Lermontov St. Lytkin hit her twice in the head, but because of Kuzmina making a ‘fuss’ a nearby man looking out his window scared Lytkin off, taking the woman’s phone with him. Kuzmina survived.
March 11 , 2011 - On a walkway near the State university bus stop, Anoufriev and Lytkin killed a homeless man by the name of Roman Faizullin. Anoufriev shot him in the face before the pair dragged him behind some bushes and off the street. The pair stabbed Faizullin in the head, chest and groin. Lytkin had attempted to cut the mans hand off but only managed his pinky finger. Later Anoufriev photographed the corpse from his apartment window since it was near.
After this attack a rally was held in the area to discuss what precautions and measures should be put in place. Anoufriev and Lytkin would go to these rallies and meetings, they would share ideas about the killers and would video tape the meetings. By this time police had already figured out that the killer was between ages 16-18 and set up patrol cars that would tour the area to reduce other attacks (which didn’t work). Still in the area there was misinformation which lead to the citizens fearing that the killer was a guy in his 30s.
The pair then gained the name the “Academy Maniacs” via a journalist for the Komsomolskaya Pravda, Olga Lipchinskaya since nobody could identify the boys.
??, 2011 - On an unknown date the pair attacked a homeless woman whom survived the attack due to an off duty police officer seeing the pair from out his window.
??, 2011 - on another unknown date the pair attacked a woman using a screwdriver. Since the place was crowded the pair left and the woman survived.
April 3, 2011 - The last of the pairs crimes. The two killed a 63-year-old homeless woman named Alevtina Kuydina. The woman was killed near a research institute, after killing her the pair filmed a video. On the video, filmed by Anoufriev, Lytkin can be seen cutting the woman’s earlobe off with a knife after being scolded by Anoufriev for not covering the knife in case of finger prints. Lytkin then tried to cut the woman’s hand off and gouge her eyes. When he couldn’t, he instead struck a knife directly into her eye and started stabbing. Later they dropped the woman’s earlobe off at the porch of a school. Anoufriev send the video to an online friend from St.Petersburg named Ilya Ustinov or known as online “Solomon Gojo” who said the video was sluggish he still however, distributed the video online.
Investigation/ Arrests
Investigators and police didn’t suspect the attacks to be from the same people, since the victims had no relation or anything alike. The investigation lasted months while the town was left in fear. But because of the crime spanning in such a small area the police were able to piece together a sketch of the suspects. The portraits were even sent to the workplace of Lytkins grandmother, the institute of organic chemistry, she noticed how the portrait looked eerily similar to her grandson. She sent her son Vladislav, Lytkins uncle, to his house to question Nikita. Once he got there nobody was home, Nikita having gone out for a walk (but suspected victim hunting). Nikita’s uncle however, found the camera he had lended him, on the camera he saw the video that the pair had filmed prior. After discussing, the family handed the video over to police and soon Lytkin was arrested, Anoufriev following shortly after. Prior to the arrest Lytkins mother had found a knife packaged in the hallway or in other sources, his pocket. When asked about the knife he simply stated it was for Defense.
A little piece of Trial
On March 6 of 2013 Lytkin stated that Anoufriev didn’t participate in four of the attacks and instead someone else accompanied him, Lytkin did give names but they were never publicly disposed. Lytkin also stated he had other accomplices however it’s theorized that he made this up to slow down the investigation. One day at the detention centre Lytkin told his mother "Why do they make the devil out of Artyom and I am so white and fluffy? We are both to blame. He is no worse and no better than me, we committed murders together." Anoufriev states that the police pressed Lytkin using threat of solitary. Lytkins grandmother also published an open letter claiming that she blamed Television, democracy, the internet, satanists and pornography for Lytkins corruption.
During the trial each boy had taken a different defence, Lytkin took leniency on him being a minor at the time of the crime and Anoufriev cause he had only pleaded guilty to 1 count of murder.
Sentencing, Transfers & Where they are now
Artyom:
On April 2nd 2013, Irkutsk Regional Court sentenced Anoufriev to life imprisonment in a special regime colony. On January 27th, 2014, Anoufriev was transferred to Ognenny Ostrov in the Vologda Oblast. After transferring, Anoufriev stated in interviews that he did not agree with the sentence and that his family was trying to get him out on parole, as well, he also stated that he was working on a book but did not explain what it was about. And in Febuary of 2017 Anoufriev stated that he had been studying Law at The University of Latvia.

Artyom during the trial in the defendant cage
Nikita:
Also on April 2nd, 2013,Lytkin was sentenced to 24 years imprisonment with 5 of those to be soent in prison. Around October,2013, Lytkins sentenced was reduced to 20 years seeing as he was a minor during the events. Lytkin had made many transfers to prisons including:

Nikita during the trial in the defendants cage
December, 2013- transferred from Irkutsk Colony to Sakha Republic
??, 2015- transferred to Kemerovo Correctional Colony No.41, where a psychologist had discovered he was dealing with a mental disorder
August, 2016- The prison attempted to transfer Lytkin to a psychiatric hospital however, the day before he attacked an inmate ,hoping that he would be transferred to the same colony as Anoufriev, instead on June
1st, 2017, the court ruled he was a dangerous repeat offender and sentenced to 11 years.
??, 2018- Lytkin was transferred to Angarsk Correctional Colony No.7
On the morning of November 28th, 2021, Lytkin was found in his cell with severe self inflicted wounds on his arms. Paramedics rushed him to Angarsk City Hospital, where on November 30th he was pronounced dead. Lytkins inmates stated that he had been subjected to bullying and others state he had threatened to do it when his sentence wasn’t reduced furthermore and when he wasn’t transferred to the same facility as Anoufriev.
#liveralone#tccblr#tc community#tcc columbine#true cringe community#tcc tumblr#eric columbine#recipes by vivi#eric and dylan#dylan columbine#artyom anoufriev#nikita lytkin#nikita and artyom#academy maniacs#the academy maniacs#irkutsk molotochniki#info post
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Kitchen Staff
Summary: Azriel’s shadows help you prepare a very special breakfast.
Warnings: None
“Now where did I put that…” A puff of white flour hazes your vision and you sneeze, waving your hand about wildly to clear the particles from the air. Wisps of inky black shadow hand you a whisk, before attempting to measure out a portion of the contents within the flour sack. You say attempted because, in their haste, your volunteer sous chefs overshot the cup and spilled on the counter.
You smirk. “I hope you’re not this clumsy in the dungeons. I can’t imagine Azriel would be pleased if his captive got away because you forgot to tighten the restraints.”
The shadows seemed to shrink back, scattering to the corners of the House of Wind’s kitchen like children being scolded. Your heart ached in your chest and you held out your palm as a peace offering. “Hey. Come here.”
The shadows slowly inched forward until they were curled up in your palm, eventually coiling around your wrists and working their way up your arm. A chuckle escaped you when you felt the cool touch of their featheight kisses against the shell of your ear. “I’m sorry guys, we’re just on a tight schedule. Azriel is due home today from Autumn and I haven’t even got these pastries in the oven yet.”
It was a debated topic among even those closest to Azriel, weather or not his shadows abided in his will alone or if they were autonomous beings. From what your experienced, they seemed to have their own agenda, as a handful of them always opted to stay behind with you whenever Azriel went out on missions. At first, he tried to force them along, but they disobeyed. You’ll never forget the shocked expression on his face when he came to that realization: they had disobeyed him for the first time. To this day, remaining by your side in his absence is the only scenario in which the shadows have gone against the will of their singer. Not long after that, the bond snapped, and Azriel informed you of the tongue lashing his shadows had given him for being slower to perceive you as his mate than they had been.
They knew. They always did. They were the only ones privy to the long nights their master had spent alone in the dark over the centuries. The only beings to know the truth behind his excuses of working late to avoid going to Rita’s when the Inner Circle had invited him. The only ones to stand with him in the corner of the crowded living room during Winter Solstice. They were the darkness that finally covered the mirror in Azriel’s bedroom when he’d spent too long standing before it, glaring daggers at the reflection of his scarred hands.
His shadows were only entities who understood his internal plea for a mate. For someone to love him in the way his brothers got to experience with their mates. A female whose warm embrace he could find comfort in at the end of the day, whose laughter would brighten the dull space within him, and whose heart would sing to his in a sacred bond. That is what he found in you, and he was thrilled.
By extension, so were his shadows, which is why you came downstairs this morning to find a cookbook flipped to a raspberry pastry recipe layed out on the counter.
“So they heard us talking last night. And you were worried it’d be too soon for you to propose to accept the bond.” Cassian grinned when he walked in behind you, a mug of tea appearing before him. “You could just have the house make it for you.”
“Yeah, but I think the gesture would be more personal if I made them myself.” You glanced at the shadows, who were mashing a bowl of raspberries and sugar into a thick filling. “I think they wanted to help. They did go through the trouble of pointing out Azriel’s favorite dessert to me, after all.”
You began to hum softly while kneading the dough, absently watching the purple sunrise crest the mountain tops through the window. Rhys already had the cabin set up for you and Az, a shiver of anticipation running up your spine at the thought. Delicious possibilities for the next two weeks flashed through your mind, biting your bottom lip to prevent the smirk from breaking through. Until—
“Ow!” Cassian stumbled back, clutching his pinky. “One of those bastards bit me… or scratched me. Or whatever the hell they do.”
You laughed, pushing past the pouting general to fill the pastry shells and place them in the oven. “They’re not yours Cass.”
“I just wanted a taste of the filling.” He crossed his arms.
“If there’s any left, you’re welcome to them. Now I’ve got to set up. Az will be home soon.”
Cassian lingered, a smug expression plastered across his features. He open his mouth, no doubt aiming to utter a vulgar comment, when the Shadows shut the door in his face.
…
Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever flown so quickly in his life, or that a three day mission to the Autumn court could feel so gut wrenching. Every moment that he was away from you left his soul aching, the golden tether pulling unbearably tight and demanding your closeness. He missed it all; your scent, your touch, your smile. His body practically vibrated by the time he landed on the balcony of the House of Wind and his stray shadows met him at the door.
“Love?” He called out, scanning the interior of the sitting room. Azriel furrowed a brow when his shadows began drifting towards the kitchen, seemingly gesturing for him to follow them there. “Are you—“
Azriel’s words died in his throat and he halted where he stood. Auburn rose petals, courtesy of his shadows, created a path to where you stood, holding a tray of the pastries that would seal both of your fates.
“Azriel… will you be my mate?” Your voice was so soft, as if you’d be concerned that he’d respond with anything less than a resounding yes, and the hope shining in your eyes nearly made him fall to his knees.
The Shadowsinger walked towards you on shaking legs, raising a palm to cradle your cheek. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
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─ PINK RIBBONS
𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domesticity, you being jeonghan's whole world (mention of the military) 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!jeonghan x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 792
natalia's note: idc if this is too dramatic, i don't want jeonghan to go
⦗💌 ⦘your favourite past time? playing with your boyfriend's hair, duh. sadly, it's the last time you get to do it for the next two years.
“here,” jeonghan drops a bunch of… somethings in your lap and sits down on the fluffy rug you bought last month, his back facing you.
your boyfriend’s randomness is nothing new; even before you began dating, you quickly found out that yoon jeonghan was an unpredictable man. but no matter how much time has passed since you agreed to be his girlfriend, you are still taken aback each and every time he decides to do something out of the blue in his jeonghan fashion.
you quickly grew to love his randomness, though. it’s like being surprised in the best ways possible.
“what,” you pick up a packet of colourful hair ties and hair pins, “what do you want me to do with those?”.
jeonghan turns around and looks up to meet your eyes, his own holding nothing but fondness and warmth. “my hair,” he says and shakes his head of messy brown hair he died a couple of days ago. “we haven’t done this in a while, so i thought it’d be nice.”
your stomach churned. how many times have you sat like this - you on the edge of the sofa and jeonghan in front of you, resting comfortably against a cushion you placed so as not to strain his back. a drama or a cooking show would be playing quietly in the background, neither of you watching it, too busy with basking in the domesticity.
looking back, it was a no-brainer that you got addicted to your boyfriend’s hair so quickly. playing with it became a little habit of yours - before bed, in the morning, at a game night with the boys, during parties - whenever jeonghan was in your arm’s reach, you’d play with his hair, no matter if they were short or long (though you always mourned his long hair whenever he cut them). it always managed to calm you down and ground you when life got a bit too much.
you’ve never experienced deja vu before, but if this was how it felt then you’d rather be hit with a sledge hammer. it’d hurt less.
and now… despite that you could feel your heart breaking, you couldn’t tell him no. it’s probably the last time you’ll be able to do this before the enlistment anyway, so maybe… maybe it’ll be a nice way to celebrate his last days at home?
“it’s hair. it’s just hair,” your mind seems to scream into the void as you grab a couple of the purple-ish hair bands and slide them on your wrist. but your heart is even louder and it feels like you’re being ripped apart.
were you being dramatic? definitely. did you care? not at all. your whole life would change in the next day or so and despite preparing for this for such a long time now, it didn’t make it any less painful. with jeonghan leaving you’d be losing a part of yourself.
“hey,” he raises his hand and grabs your chin, “get that scowl off your face.”
“i know,” you sigh. “it’s just that-,”.
“i don’t want to hear any of that. we’re having fun tonight, honey,” jeonghan says and runs his thumb over your cheek. affection and pure love, which are always there whenever he looks at you (coups makes sure to point that out on every possible occasion), seemed to slow your racing heartbeat, because the longer you stared into his brown, gentle eyes the more your mind seemed to quiet down. oh, how you are going to miss that lovesick stare. “no more sad faces, yeah?”
you swallow and nod, your heart heavy from all the emotions. the pink ribbons and blue pins look like the opposite of what you are feeling, but… you have to be strong. if not for yourself, then for jeonghan.
“any specific requests?” you ask and comb your fingers gently through his silky hair.
“nope. whatever you do,” he says and turns his back to you, “it’ll look perfect.” you couldn't see jeonghan’s face, but you could hear the smile in his voice.
placing a peck on your exposed leg, he makes himself comfortable against the cushions and lets out his grandpa-esque sigh.
what the next days are going to bring - you aren’t sure. you don’t even want to think about it. but for now… for now, you are as content as you can be. enveloped by your love’s affection like a security blanket, his warm hands sliding up and down your calves, as if reminding you that he’s still there, it is enough for you. enough to swallow your tears and put a brave smile on your face for the man sitting in front of you.
for now it is only you and him and all the pink ribbons.
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that bit of fuel to your fire
Mob!Lewis x Reader
Summary: Lewis makes you nervous. Yes you’ve been married to him for months now, but still. And no matter how much you crave him, you can’t seem to muster up the courage to openly ask for what you want. So you keep dropping little hints, you keep playing this little game. Hoping that he would catch a hint one of these days… and he does.
Themes: age gap, arranged marriage, smut, fluff, explicit language

“Can you please help?”
Lewis looked up from the papers scattered all over his desk, and saw you standing at the doorway of his home office, looking at him with those mischievous eyes. “Sure, what do you need, wife?” He asked, smiling.
Gods. He looked divine sat there behind his desk in his suit. The two of you had just gotten back from another fancy dinner party, and once home, he was already working again. Always busy working. You sighed dramatically and said, “The zip at the back of my dress is stuck.” You walked into his office and leaned against the side of his large, ancient looking desk, “Can you help me take the dress off?”
Nice choice of words. He thought. “Anything for you, darling.”
Lewis got up and reached you in less than a second. You turned around and gave him your back, with the zip halfway down. You caught the way his fingers ghosted over your skin before he grabbed the zip to lower it down. Which he did agonisingly slowly. And it had you shivering in no time.
You’d been married for months now. It was an arranged marriage so Lewis was basically a stranger. And you’d heard of him before getting married and he made you nervous ever since. He was older, dangerous, and he was quite famous with the ladies…
Getting married was the easy part. But living with him? Living with a drop dead gorgeous older man was… tricky. Especially when he was so sweet, attentive, and kind to you. You soon found yourself thirsting after your own husband. But you were too nervous to initiate anything. You never sought him out for sex. Ever. After all, given his age and the rumours, he was much more experienced than you were. Plus, he was intimidating as it is. And to imagine all that power unleashed upon you…
“You know,” He began, breaking you out of your reverie, while tugging on the zip that was actually stuck, “I hope you know you’re not being as subtle as you think you are.”
You turned your face to the side and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Oh really? We’re back to playing this game then.” Lewis chuckled, his fingers still brushing against your exposed back, his cold rings tracing down along your spine. “You think I haven’t noticed you’ve been making eyes at me all night? You think I don’t know what you’re doing? What you’ve been doing for weeks now?”
You held back a smirk. Not that he would’ve seen it anyway. “I still don’t know what you mean.”
Zip undone, but he didn’t let you go just yet. You watched as one of his large, tattooed hands reached around your waist to pull you back into him. Your exposed back pressing against the cool, expensive fabric of his suit.
“Don’t act so innocent, wife.” He said, nuzzling your neck and letting his lips brush against your skin. “You think I don't see right through you? Your little antics, huh?” He kissed up your neck till his mouth reached your ear where he whispered, making you shiver, “Accidentally pressing against me at night? Always wearing those little things to bed that barely hide anything? Walking around in those tight leggings? Wearing your little running shorts in the morning?” He chuckled into your ear, the sound making you almost moan.
His hand drifted downward, getting dangerously close to where you needed him the most. That damp spot in between your legs getting wetter, pulsing for him.
“You’re my wife.” He reminded you. “You don’t even have to seduce me. You just have to ask for it.” He reasoned. “Just ask for it, whatever you want. I’ll give it to you.” You heard the smirk in his voice. “I’ll give it to you good and you know that.”
“I… I–”
He turned you around so you faced him.
And that didn’t help at all. Lewis’ beauty was lethal. His pretty brown eyes, his smooth skin, the tattoos all over his neck… he looked like a god.
“Say it, wife. Tell me what you want.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against the corner of your lips. “Ask me to fuck you. Ask nicely.”
Shit.
“Please Lew… please…,” You couldn’t even beg properly. Your mind was melting already, he was too close, his scent, the look in his eyes, it was too much.
“Oh baby…” He leaned in closer, rubbing this thumb over your chin gently, “Can’t even ask for it, huh?” He chuckled, “It’s okay. I’ve got you now. I’m gonna take care of you.” He whispered, before he pressed his mouth to yours.
You melted immediately. Sliding your hands up his chest as you kissed him back with just as much passion as he kissed you. You were starving for him, for this. You had been for way too long now. His mouth moved against yours perfectly, his facial hair felt rough against your skin but you welcomed it.
As he pushed you onto his desk, making you sit on the edge, you mumbled against his lips, “I want you so badly.”
“Yeah?” Lewis smirked into the kiss, “How long have you been dreaming of this, huh? Of me touching you? Of me fucking you?”
He pushed you onto the table, stepping in between your legs already. You spread your thighs, “Too long.” You answered, your dress falling off your shoulders to bunch around your waist. “Way too long.”
He gave you another smug chuckle. Then he got impatient so your underwear came off of you immediately, and in pieces because he ripped it off before he leaned in to kiss you again, as his hand reached in between your legs to play with your wet folds.
He smiled into the kiss upon finding you already wet for him. “All that for me?” He teased, sliding a finger, then another inside of you, Lewis stroked your walls gently, preparing you for more.
You clenched around his fingers, moaning into the kiss as he finger-fucked you relentlessly, his rings cold against your warm skin, making you whine in need and desperation.
You held onto his broad shoulders and kissed him deeper as he made you come all over his fingers in no time. He smirked, looking down at you, given how quickly you came. “You couldn’t hold back, huh? Do my fingers feel good inside you, wife?”
“Yes…”
“I know it does, baby. Look how quickly you came all over my fingers.” He whispered, removing his fingers and shoving them into your mouth without another thought. “Now clean them.” He said, watching intently how you sucked on his drenched fingers.
He couldn’t wait anymore.
He unzipped his pants and took his cock out, looking deep into your eyes as he did. He watched how the sound of his zip made you shiver with lust and desire. He smirked, watching you as you looked down to where he lazily stroked himself. That tattooed hand moving lazily up and down his cock…
Lips parted, heart pounding, you watched him play with himself like you were starving for it. Which you were.
“You want it?” He asked, teasing you with an even slower stroke.
You whined at the way his big hand moved up and down his erected cock. You squirmed, trying to scoot closer to him, “Please…”
“Ask nicely,” He demanded.
You would give him whatever he wanted in that moment, so you fisted the fabric of his shirt and looked up at him, pleading, “Please, Lewis. I want you so much it hurts.” You begged. “I want it, please. Please, can I have it? Can I have your cock?”
He just smirked in triumph, “Of course you can, baby. It’s all yours.” He said, spreading your legs and sliding his cock into you finally. You wrapped your legs around him and welcomed him inside you.
And fuck, he felt good.
You were a moaning and whimpering mess as he began moving in and out of you so perfectly that it felt like you were losing your mind.
“I’ll fuck you whenever I want now,” He whispered, staring into your eyes while he pounded into you relentlessly. His possessive tone only lit your body on fire even more. “You made me wait long enough, baby. No more waiting. I’ll fuck this tight pussy all the time because it’s all mine, isn’t it?”
You nodded, unable to utter another word.
“Yeah it is. I’m your man, and you’re my wife and I’ll fuck you whenever you want me to, you hear me? You’re all mine.” He said, fucking deeper into you like he did own you. He bent down to kiss your open mouth, swallowing all your moans and whines in the process. “All fucking mine.”
His mouth, his taste, his scent. The way his strong body moved to bring you pleasure like only he could. It was all that existed in that moment. The rest of the world was not here. Just him. All of him.
You could only gasp and moan, unable to form coherent sentences while he pounded into you like he owned you. Your entire body tingled. “Lewis…” The pressure between your legs was getting hotter, tighter, and it would snap at any moment now.
Then he pulled away just a little, looking down to where your body swallowed his cock each time he thrust in and pulled out. “Look,” he said and you followed his eyes, letting out an even louder moan when you saw what he was looking at. “I’m fucking my wife, do you see it?” He purposely slowed down his thrust just so you could see.
You nodded.
“You’re mine, then why did you wait this long, huh?” He asked, leaning in to kiss you. A messy, desperate kiss. One that demanded answers. “Why did you keep yourself from me? Why torture me all this time?”
Fuck. Why now?
“I don’t know…” You gasped. “I was too nervous.” You mumbled, looking into his deep, brown eyes.
“Babygirl,” He chuckled, “I’m all yours. There’s nothing to be nervous about. Do you know how hard it was to hold back from touching you?”
You whined, regretting all the time you wasted, and pressing your face into the crook of his neck. You kissed his skin as best you could while moaning and whimpering, “Please,” You begged, “Please, can I come?”
He smirked and sped up into you again, “Wait for me, baby. Just a little more,” He sounded all growly and it only made you clench around him even tighter.
Hearing you moan and squirm under him only encouraged him to thrust deeper and faster into you. He was relentless as his body moved perfectly against yours.
A tear fell from your eye, out of pleasure. He was quick to wipe it away as he bent down and kissed your lips again, pounding into you rapidly. “Come for me,” he whispered against your mouth, his voice strained and raspy. “Come all over your man, baby…”
And that was all you needed. You cried out as you came around him, the pressure finally exploding and a familiar warmth washed over you.
“There we go, baby. That’s it… milk that cock, it’s all yours.” He murmured, his voice like a distant memory given how loud your heartbeats echoed in your ears.
You felt Lewis come as well, his cock throbbing against your walls as he came with a grunt, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise your skin surely as he filled you up nicely. His cum leaking out of you already, even though he was snug, deep inside you still.
“There,” He sighed, “All mine.”
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