#always reblogging this photo set
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sculpted a strange shimmery two headed snail, speckled with wild flowers on it's shell~
#sculpture#snail#fantasy art#I have never sculpted or even drawn a snail before#so hopefully the anatomy is not incredibly off#(though if so.. I guess it could also just pass as further Strange Magical Mutations lol)#It doesn't show up as well in the photo but the shell has some irridescent eyeshadow on it so it kind of alternates a little warm#red and teal as you move it.#Made for an art contest on a game that I play lol (I wouldnt normally think to sculpt a snail on my own if it werent part of a#prompt) but I do kind of like the way it came out.. sort of..#Perhaps a real creature that exists in Nanyevimi (my worldbuilding setting) in some capacity then.. hrmm#also in relevance to this blog i DO STILL WANT TO finish the story with the little adventurer... goursh I have just had so much going on..#all of my little side projects like that have fallen away for so long. I really want his advneture to reach a tiny conclusion though#And shout out to that one person that always reblogged them and left nice comments in the tags also.. :'3#Poll Adventures.... not over... simply was on temporary evil hiatus due to Me Feeling Sick Constantly All Summer and so on and so forth#aughhh.. woe and agonyyy *dramatically drops to my knees in the middle of a rain storm like some tragic movie scene#kneeling into the cold earth as i cradle the half-living bodies of all of my half-finished creative projects in my arms*#ANYWAY... lol..... erm.. snail time
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I’m always paranoid of my tumblr being deleted or malfunctioning or something like that someday, so here’s other places to find me/follow me, just in case lol
~ instagram - https://www.instagram.com/lucalicatte/
~ main youtube - https://www.youtube.com/c/LucaLiCatte
~ games/sims youtube - https://www.youtube.com/@cloudycatte
~ facebook page (I rarely use this because I hate facebook but.. it at least allows text posts better than instagram does, so idk maybe I’d use it more if tumblr went away? lol) - https://www.facebook.com/cloudycatteart/
~ Other Links (stuff I don’t use often/isn’t Main enough to list here, like twitter, neopets, other tumblr sideblogs, youtube channels, etc.) are here - http://icewindandboringhorror.tumblr.com/otherlinks )
#An updated version of this since some of the links on the old one are no longer the same lol#I might make a website website one day (not with a custom domain since I'm not paying for that/dont have the money lol#but like a 'my name.weebly.com type thing lol) but I haven't had the time recently. If I ever get around to it I'll update the post and#reblog that version. ANYWAY.. I just like to have one of these written out to reblog every once in a while. During the once ever few months#when poeple are like 'tumblr is failing again! it wont survive!' which has happened like 80 times but I'm still always like :0c what if!#also love the ms paint art done with a mouse ghhj#ANYWAY.. also if you want to see the stinky game I made that's not actually related to my own worldbuilding really (why I have never#posted anything about it publilcy because it's like.. how do I talk about it lol) I have my itch.io linked in the 'other links' page#as well as my General Projects blog. which talks about all the ongoing and upcoming projects I want to do that are#actually set in my world and can give you previews of some of the things I'm working on. Currently resuming my Game after abandoning it#basically for the entire pandemic and a little before that - as mentioned before - so that's OUgh.. in terms of A Lot Of Work#Especially since while kind of 'revamping and updating' I want to add a few features which are mostly easy but every once in a while#I don't understand something and it's like....... hGGhh...... Ironically despite Blogging I just hate talking to people in public open foru#.. I love privacy and security lol.. and I always feel that ONE day I am going to have a question that has not already been asked on a foru#somewhere and I am going to have to post myself and.. no.. I shan't even imagine it.. It's not even really social anxiety it's just like..#efficiency.. instead of wating like days to get an accurate response and resolve the problem with the general public I would rather just ha#e a one time 30min conversation with an expert and resolve it quickly. PLUS then I also only interact with One stranger instead of Many Of#Them lol.. any 6+ yrs of experience Ren'py experts hmu so I can pay you like $50 to have a single 45min conversation#with me over an insanely simple question and then never talk to you again until a year later when I have a second question. hhjb#ANYWAY.. I still really don't like instagram or it's layout and I never understood how it works like.. if I should be tagging photos or wha#or how you really use it and I just... euGH... stimky.. but it is one of the most popular so I feel obligated to link it. I wish facebook w#sn't such a nasty poo poo because I do actually like the variety of posts you can make and how Pages on facebook operate. In the scense of#it being similar to tumblr that you can make a VARIETy of styles of post. not just Only Post Photos or Only Short Text or Only Video which#is still like.. how the funk does sutff like that even get popular lol.. the Limited nature.. hewwo.. but alas.. and NO way I'm touching#fucking Threads please do not make an account on there and don't let your friends do it and don't let that shit catch on lol.#BUT YEahg... links...... just in case.. i hope tumblr stays aroundin it's current format forever though lol..#I'm pretty sure even facebook doesn't have audio posts. or tags the way this does. or CHRONOLOGICAL FEED. custom html for pages.. aaaaa
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Unpopular opinion, but I don't think Kristen Stewart is hot, at all
#personal#i have opinions#maybe i'm just following a lot of wlw who reblogged that rolling stones photo set. but i simply Don't Care#ik i'm autistic but she always looks so bored. un-impassioned imo#literally just some guy. wearing short shorts or whatever
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I laughed too much at this! xD
me at any given time: can we just buckle down and focus on the task at hand please???
my brain:
my brain: ……….ranibow sprimkle……………
#long post#classic#photo set reblog#it's always the spelling mistakes that tickles me#i'm sorry for laughing way too much at this#love it nonetheless#Ranibow Sprimkle
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Vanilla Frosting
Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky takes a call at home and you decide to tease him a bit.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, dirty thoughts, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you.
A/N: I blame these photos as they gave me CEO vibes. And @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer . Again, before our couple has Muffin and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
“I thought you said no calls, Boss.”
Bucky sighed and rolled up his sleeves as he looked toward the kitchen. You stood in the doorway with crossed arms and slow building irritation in your eyes. The sight of you always lightened his mood and made his heart race, but that look wasn't a good sign. Oh, he was in trouble.
Some sort of trouble.
As a CEO, he was always prepared to take the fall when it came to his company. Seeing your kissable mouth set in a grim line though? “It’s Steve’s fault,” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.
“Really, Buck?” Steve’s voice rang out from the laptop speaker.
“Yeah, really,” he snapped. When Steve found a partner like you, he’d get why he bent his will to you over everyone else. Hell, he welcomed Steve getting a bit of payback because it would mean his best friend would have found happiness. “I’m sorry, Cupcake,” he added in a softer tone to you.
He didn’t want to take the call, he really didn’t. All he wanted to do was hold you and forget about the stress of work for an evening. He even assured you that there would be no work tonight, but Steve insisted he get on a video chat with some of the executive team. God knew the punk was relentless, but the unimpressed look on your face made him want to fire everyone and start from scratch.
The two of you had plenty of money, so you’d be set if he went that route.
“Steve’s fault, huh?” You slowly smiled after a moment. “Okay. You take the call and I’ll start making some cupcakes.”
Bucky cocked his head with a confused stare as you went further into the kitchen and out of sight. Baking cupcakes wasn't out of the ordinary for you, but you saying “okay” wasn't okay. He knew better. There was no possible way he was off the hook for this. He already had at least ten gifts in mind to buy you once the call wrapped up.
“I love you,” he called after you, not at all ashamed for anyone to hear that as they joined the meeting. If anyone eyeballed him or said an unkind word about voicing his feelings for you outside of the office, they could find another job.
“Love you, too!” You called back.
That brought a small smile to his face. “Let’s get started so we can all get back to our regular evening plans,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
After a minute, he glanced over the monitor as he heard gentle movement in the kitchen. You weren't slamming things around, which was good. You understood how crazy things could get since you were his secretary. It didn't mean he enjoyed taking time away from the two of you and he didn’t want you upset with him. Even if you weren't upset, he still had to make it up to you. He-
“Hey, Bucky?” Your eyes lit up as you appeared in the doorway again with a small bowl. He was certain he forgot how to breathe when he eyed what you were wearing: a new black and white apron. And nothing else. Jesus fucking Christ. “You want vanilla frosting for the cupcakes, right?”
Bucky subtly shifted in his seat as you sauntered further into the room, his throat dry at the sight of you. The curve of your hips, your hardened nipples teasing him through the fabric. Calling you beautiful wasn't enough. Your beauty was transcendent, indescribable. The kind that made the strongest of people drop to their knees. He was a powerful man, but still just a man at the end of the day and you rendered him powerless. And right now he needed to focus on the call, but how could he focus on anything but you?
He cleared his throat when Jack rambled on about something. Or was it John? Who gave a fuck? “Cupcake,” he growled.
“I know I do. Maybe you can frost me later?” You scooped a bit of frosting onto your finger and wrapped your lips around it with an obscene moan. Thankfully he had his microphone turned off. They didn't need to hear your pretty sounds. “Mmm.”
He groaned when you showed him your tongue. He knew it was frosting, but the image made it easy to picture you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock and showing him his release before you swallowed like a good girl. It took a lot of control not to palm himself. Surely everyone would understand if he ended the call now. Why the fuck did he take this call?
Making sure his hand was out of sight, he beckoned you closer with his finger. If he was lucky he could get you to take the apron off, sit in the nearby chair, and touch yourself. Or you could keep the apron on. As long as he could see your glistening pussy. Even looking wouldn't be enough. He had to get his mouth on it, his cock in it.
But you didn't go to him.
Instead, you tsked with the finger you licked and pointed at the laptop. “Oh, no, Boss. You listened to Steve and took the call. Now deal with the consequences,” you smiled sweetly, turning on your heel and giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walked back into the kitchen.
Yep, he was in big trouble.
Bucky's fists clenched as he got back to the task at hand, but he also chuckled. He deserved a bit of blue balls for the time being. He also had to respect the way you played the game, but he knew how to play the game, too. Before the night was over, he’d be back in your good graces. He’d eat one of your delicious cupcakes before he got a taste of you. And he'd remind you that he didn't have the world because of money, power, or any of that.
Bucky Barnes had the world because he had you.
Oh, these two. 🥰 Steve isn't even upset for getting blamed. 🤣 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#ceo!bucky barnes#ceo!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fic#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#the winter soldier#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#husband!bucky barnes#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#x reader#boss and cupcake#bucky fanfic#bucky fandom
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youre my world!
in which they accidentally reveal your relationship to the public (and confirms it)
bllk boys x reader (reo, nagi, rin, sae,): fluff, crack, pro-athletes bllk boys, drabbles, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated!
reo mikage:
sometimes, contrary to what reo believes, he’s simply impulsive and childish in the face of love - excitedly posting a story of you and him at your favourite cafe, beaming at the way your hands merged with him so well - so well that he posted it to his main public account associated with both mikage corporation and his soccer career in manshine city where everyone witnessed it up for 12 hours before he wakes up to his PR calling him freaking out. to be honest, he thinks it shouldn’t be such a big deal right? its not as if the media hasn’t speculated over his relationship status for months now - from every little jewellery that fits perfectly onto his wrist, neck and fingers, from every visits to designer clothes store, to designer jewellery store, to designer shoe stores bringing out huge shopping bags that make his frame look petite in comparison, from every single photo he posts on his feed that they scruntised from the angle, to the place, to the clothes that seem to belong to a matching set somewhere somehow. its expected some thinks - he’s rich, he’s got a decent career, he’s charming both in looks and personality publicised in front of television for many to swoon over, there’s no way he isn’t taken just yet. but now, the focus that he’s so used to shifts to you, who’s only half a face is revealed but has gathered just as much attention a selfies he posts on social media at the request of his managers. and perhaps he now feels it - the jealousy that runs green at his heart as if its always been there tugging at the red muscle, and suddenly all he wants to do is to keep you in his treasure chest of things only he can have, keep you caged in his warm embrace like after practice forever, keep you safe away from the public side of the world that he’s practically born to face. but right at the same time, he wishes nothing more than to parade you in front of the world that he’s sure he loathes secretly in his heart, to share with the world of hte blessing that the world has given him in the bitter and harsh world, to express his love in the way he knows how to.
he thinks it was fate that he accidentally posted it on the wrong account, and who is he to go against the universe that have led you to him in this lifetime. and so, he posts a photo dump of you and him right on his main account - filled with pictures gathered and kept by him in his phone in a folder, whether that be a picture of you eating that sugary-sweet treat that he can still taste from the kiss he shared with you right after that photo, picture of you with him right after his first ever win in his career beaming ear-to-ear hat he looks at like its his lucky charm till this day, picture of you and him wearing that matching chikawa pajama at his apartment studying late into the night together for your finals together. and next time the reporter asks him, he doesn’t hesitate to profess his love of you to the world as though he’s waited his entire life to confess it out to the world.
nagi seishiro:
nagi seishiro is practically on the hunt list by paparazzis - infamously hard to capture on film not because of his bright white hair that seems to avoid flashes but rather that he rarely goes out of his apartment - and when he does, does the paparazzi goes crazy especially when he leaves his house on a blue moon, hands tangling with someone else’s. to him, it was just another day - dragged by you to go to wherever you want for the day that you surely deserve after sleeping over at his place for the past few days cramming for your assignments and whatnot in a quiet environment that just so happens to be his room whilst he lazes around in his bed playing his game with his earphones on glancing at you unbeknownst to you. it was supposed to be just another lunch date just like any others you’ve been with him, wearing whatever to go to your nearby cafe that practically recognises you and nagi and hides you at the corner booth where he first confessed to you out of pure impulse after seeing you chat excitedly about your interest with such passion he can’t help but feel his heart skip multiple beats at once. and yet here you both are giggling at the edits and theories his fans have came up with in defence against a dating rumour as you two lie on his bed, body practically melted together, limbs tangled with his — whether that be deeming you as his little sister that hes strangely close to, to deeming the photo as a breach of privacy, to deeming the photo as straight up edited. he thinks its sort of funny, isnt it clear you two are clearly together romantically? with his hands wrapped around yours that fits just right like a puzzle piece fitting into one another. his eyes glancing at you as though youre his entire world, his smile that rarely appears on his face as he listens to another of your passionate chats.
and he supposes he must be a pretty passive or straight up bad partner when on his next win, a reporter asks about you in such a demeaning and insulting way that ticks his brain the wrong way. he thinks its too much of a bother to get fired up, he thinks its useless to get all upset and red in the face, he thinks its only fools that let their emotion overtake them — yet its against that comment that he suddenly stands up that surprises his members, the reporters around and even the crowd, his mouth leaning onto the microphone that for the first time speaks of something other than mediocre and uninterested responses but the same passionate tone that he thinks you must be rubbing off him, announcing your relationship with him with nothing but love and pride in his voice. and maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t regret it and its no bother to defend you to the world - its you and him against the world anyways.
itoshi rin:
all of this started simply because of rin’s first win in the world cup - pulling at the promise ring attached to his necklace to kiss in celebration that went trending on social media. its not uncommon for football players to celebrate on field or have lucky charms - but for fans to see the logical and detached itoshi rin to indulge in such superstitious habits is unnerving, completely out of character of the cool and calm player that practically overwhelms the field completely. he doesn’t think much of it, youre his lucky charm anyways - every game he makes sure to kiss that polaroid of you that he took of you badly with your new digicam that is slightly blurry and slightly way too bright but he kisses that beam of yours anyways, every game he makes sure to hear that voice message of you wishing him luck in that cheery tone that just makes him replay it over and over until time is up and he practically runs out to the field for the game, and every game he makes sure to dedicate each and every step. kick, turn all to you. he doesn’t get why the reporters keep asking him the same old question - “are you dating someone?” the answer is obviously yes, but that doesn’t mean he can say it - whether it be due to his PR manager, whether that be due to not wanting the media in his personal life, whether that be simply to protect you from the spotlight. its irritating, standing under that spotlight as questions gets thrown at him again and again - all he can think about is you on the stand still waiting for him probably getting cold from the harsh and ruthless wind that your sweater might not be able to keep you warm despite it all, all he can think is the congratulationary kiss you give him after each game that melts both yours and his lips together that makes his entire face go uncharacteristically bright red and his eyes go wide, all he can think about is you so close to running off mid interview again like hes a spoiled child throwing a tantrum as the media described it just to see you a little earlier and spend a little more time with you rather than these irrelevant people. really, not even the harsh critics by the media and fans that compares him to a clone of his brother that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, not even his PR manager’s scoldings and nagging can deter him from running away from all of these to you, and hell hes sure not even if the world ended right in front him right now would he hesitate before running with all hes ever known, even faster than he runs during these matches to get to you, to at least kiss you once last time before you two turn into mash like those zombie movies that perhaps have gotten a little too into his head.
and he ticks his tongue again at that same question. are you dating someone? he sees you from the corner of his eye, walking away from the venue likely going to his car to get some warmth at least, and he cant stand to see you walk alone and so it leaves before he realises. “yes.” one word before he runs as though he’s back right into another life-or-death situation on the field. runs as though that is his only way of salvation, runs as though hes chasing after world - you. and its with you he thinks that he loses that logical and cold persona that everyone forces on him - because with you, hes just itoshi rin, your boyfriend and not any of the names the media and the world wants to throw on him whether positive of negative.
itoshi sae:
every time he goes back to japan, he swears his luck goes all the way down - first time where he goes home and finds out that his middle school had closed down where he went there the morning after, second time where he realises the convenience store he goes to closed down for the very week he was staying, and third time where he finds a photograph of him buying a ring for you going viral online. and he finds out when he sees you giggling hunched over on the other side of the red. his right side feels awfully ice cold without your arms wrapping around his body drooling in your sleep that he’s much more used to. if anything, he’s more surprised that youre awake - he doesn’t know what time it is, a stark contrast to him in spain that’s practically like a robot to the way he automatically wakes up at six on the dot and automatically does his exercise routine on auto pilot - all he knows is that its certainly too early for you to be leaving his side to laugh at god knows what. its only in your apartment that he gets to act all grumpy as though he’s back to been thirteen sleeping over at your house where he spends the night completely awake at your tight embrace on him as though he’s your plushie that’s now on the floor abandoned for his warmth and wakes up completely sleep-deprived that’s remedied by your bright grin. he doesn’t hesitate to turn a little to your side and snake his hands around your waist, his hands fitting right with your body, earning a flinch from you from his ice cold hands that contrasts with your warmth. its only then he realises his surprise has been completely spoiled - its not the only thing the media has pretty much put a dent in his life, constant comparison that drove a wedge deeper into him and his brother relationship, flip-flopping between praise and criticism of each and every of his gameplay on the field that makes him secretly doubt his own self that he doesn’t wish to admit, and now spoiling a surprise he was excited thinking of spending the two of your life together for the rest of eternity. your laugh clears any of the black cloudy joke that hazes over his mind with negative thoughts of self doubt, of insecurities, of irrational fear in your eyes, you don’t hesitate to hold him in your embrace, turning him back to his previous sleeping position - away from your phone, away from any distraction, away from the outside world. and he knows, he knows, even with that surprised spoiled, he’s sure you might just say yes to the diamond ring he still has kept in a dark red box right in his luggage tonight for a home-cooked dinner.
and he supposes he can give the media a glimpse of his life once in a while, playing the disappearance act for a few months as per usual before he posts a photo of you and him - draped in white cloth surrounded by white flowers with you and his friends and family at the side away from the camera, draped in jewelleries that he’s surprising not well-known to in the media that’s picky about the picture-perfect facade of itoshi sae that they have long decided on, draped in each others tugging at each other with nothing but love between both of you. in this world, its you and him whether or not with the media included or not, but he can’t help but to show you off to the world his angel can he?
#finished my interview w 38.1 fever so!#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin fluff#rin x reader#reo mikage x reader#mikage reo x reader#reo mikage fluff#reo x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#seishiro nagi x reader#nagi fluff#nagi x reader#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#sae x reader#itoshi sae fluff#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock fluff#bllk fluff#rin.<3
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summary: in which there is never enough time to be in love but jungkook is a 24/7 lover. (part one)
idol!jk x afab!reader / fluffy fluff with a dash of angst / word count: 3.6k
warnings/content: jungkook takes a day off and surprises oc <3 ; he's veryyy touchy; he gives oc's boobie a lil bite lol this guy ; s*xual innuendos; one (1) spank; oc comforts him :(; bam is home too!!; family is complete
→ in which masterlist!
note: smth short and sweet so i can recover from dreamboat loool missed my babies sm <3 as always reblog and/or feedback is very much appreciated! <3
p.s. i'm also redoing my iw taglist so pls comment/send an ask if you want to be (re)/added!
—
“baby? i’m home.”
you’re confident to say that you’d never mistake jungkook’s voice for anyone else’s. and on that note, you must be dreaming of him— the voice of an angel, the calloused palms cupping your cheeks… the audible and damp kisses delicately being peppered all over your face. everything feels so real. too real. just like how it used to be.
it hasn’t been long since you last saw him. you communicate and meet whenever it’s possible, no matter how short the time he is allowed to dedicate. still, you miss him all the time, everyday. you keep telling yourself it’s not that bad. time is passing by faster than you feared. but this whole set-up is foreign and daunting. and you miss him. you miss him all the time. that must be why you’re dreaming.
when you open your eyes in the morning, you’ve come to expect nothing more than the view of the plain white ceiling, or the sunlight peeking from behind the curtains.
so why are you gawking at jungkook’s face?
he smiles from ear-to-ear, bunny teeth and crinkles around his eyes— you can’t be mistaken. it’s him. it feels as though your heart has been shocked and revived.
“jungkook!” you gasp.
you startle your own self when you abruptly throw your arms around him. he tries to hold you up, but you’re far too ecstatic for your own good, inexplicable joy thrumming in your veins and fireworks bursting in your ribcage. you squeal and jump up and down on the bed like a little kid on christmas morning; jungkook hugs you back tighter than he has ever done before, protecting you from the fall and crash.
“oh my god, you’re here! you’re here!”
“yes, i’m here-” he laughs in amusement. “ow shit, settle down- wow, it’s so early. why are you so energetic-”
“i missed you!” you briefly pause for oxygen. “so much! i’m never letting go of you again!”
“wow!” he makes a dramatic wheezing sound. “that much, baby? you missed me that much?”
“that much!”
you draw back with a pout, just enough so you can look at each other, nodding your head probably too fast— you’re almost dizzy. adrenaline tide calming into waves, you’re catching your breath.
are you certain that this is not your imagination playing tricks on you?
“you’re here…” you slowly say. it’s only registering to your whiplashed brain. there is barely any feeling in your arms as you touch his face, an attempt at separating wishful thinking and reality. “why are you here?”
“why else?” he grins toothily. “because you said you were missing me.”
your attempt at forming words is rudely interrupted. he steals a kiss, this thief… hard and hungry, keeping you in place by his palm cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.
he pulls away with a satisfied hum, tongue darting out to swipe over his lips. “and because i was missing you more.”
for a moment, you gaze at each other in silence. you’re still neck deep in disbelief and euphoria. that kiss took your breath away. under the circumstances, you shall yield and admit that he misses you more. he requests for developed photos of you when you come visit. that’s something you never imagined you’d have to do.
he tries to tame your messy hair, smoothing it down until he’s holding your cheeks lovingly. “i mean, what else was i supposed to do? i miss waking up to this pretty face everyday.”
you pucker your lips in response, demanding for a kiss. this earns a chuckle from him before he grants your wish. an unintelligible noise of joy escapes your mouth as you jump and hug him again. it is shortly followed by a yelp when he whisks you off the bed without warning, spinning you ‘round and ‘round… ‘round… and ‘round… and…
your laughter soon transforms into horror.
“jungkook!” you scream with your eyes squeezed shut and your legs curled around his waist. “okay! stop it! i’m getting dizzy!”
the crazy bastard keeps on giggling as if he doesn’t hear a thing. you always expect these reunions to be so emotional, but when jungkook is here, it feels as though he never left.
“jungkook!”
you hook your leg around his, causing the two of you to collapse on the soft mattress. you land on top of him with a whimper. you breathe out a sigh, relieved that the nausea-inducing ride is over.
“that was fun.” he speaks next to your ear; the sensation makes you squirm.
“it was,” you push yourself up to search for more air, a little sweaty after yours and jungkook’s hyperness took control of your bodies. “for the first five seconds.”
you’re now properly straddling him, ass on his crotch. it’s accidental, but nothing new. nay, comfortable. this level of proximity won’t feel like intimacy with somebody else. goddamn, you missed your boyfriend so much.
a big, sleepy yawn zaps your attention from him. you cover your face with both hands, wandering into the darkness for a little while. you find that your mind is devoid of any thought. perhaps you’re more overwhelmed than you let on.
“missed this view too…” he reveals amidst the haze, a distinct change in the tone of his voice.
there they are— the butterflies in his stomach, slaves to you and only you. he breathes through his parted lips as he caresses your thighs with tenderness bleeding from his fingertips, your skin so smooth and soft in contrast to his calloused palms. his lips curve into a drunken smile when you graze his greedy hands, as though granting them permission, before they slip inside the magenta velvet of your night dress. the material bunches over his forearms as he reaches for your hips. it leaves almost nothing to the imagination (in his case: memory). his attention is stolen by your cotton panties. light taupe. decorated by white polka dots.
“this one’s new.” he comments.
you peer down to figure out what he meant. right, he’s never seen this before. “surprise! you like it?”
“yes, it’s cute.” he toys with the little ribbon at the center of the waistband. “you rarely get this color.”
“thanks. i think my taste is changing.”
“really?”
“mhmm…”
his hands venture up to your waist, kneading at the flesh and reacquainting with the feel of you. he’s been pissed off at the thought of forgetting what it feels like to touch you, knowing your body like the back of his hand. he hasn’t been away from you for extended periods of time since their last tour. that was years ago.
for maximum comfort, he sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “let’s move here.” he carries you with him, back comfortable leaning against the headboard, while you remain sitting pretty on his lap. “bam was sleeping on my side of the bed when i arrived.”
“huh…?” you blink.
“you didn’t know?”
you shake your head innocently, a tad distracted by your eyes roaming his naked torso. he looks absolutely ravishing as ever. did something already change from the last time you saw him?
“i tucked him into his bed last night.”
you visited bam at the training facility after work yesterday, but he kept trying to follow you as you were leaving. your fragile heart caved and you brought him home for the weekend. you texted jungkook about it but he didn’t respond; as much as that made you sad, you figured he was just tired or he used his phone time to talk to his family.
you spent the whole night playing with bam and watching his favorite dog entertainment channel on youtube. the house wasn’t dead silent for once. you fell asleep together on the couch until you woke up at 2am and tucked him and yourself into your respective beds. it was easy to fall back to sleep after, but it felt weird that you didn’t need an audiobook or hours of calming sounds of nature.
you’re not whining. there have been a lot of sunny and happy days. you have wonderful people in your life who act as your support system in their own unique ways, but jungkook and bam… they’re your family. you made your peace with no longer having one, but now that you’ve built your own, having to be apart from them makes your heart ache.
“did he sneak in to sleep next to you? he does that now?” he makes a surprised face. “what’s this? i’m so jealous of him!”
a pinch in your heart.
you try your best to conceal a frown, but your poor choice of words paints your disappointment. “you’re not-” you avoid his eyes. “staying the night?”
“yah, you don’t have to look so sad. i can stay, baby.”
“you can?” your face lights up.
“for you, i’ll make it happen.” he cheeses, affectionately tapping the tip of your nose like it’s a button to make you smile. “i’m only working hard in there to earn more days off, you know that?”
that makes you frown.
“babe, don’t do that…” you whine, shaking his shoulders. “you don’t need to work so hard. only do what is required of you. i just want you to be healthy.”
“no… just let me.” he replies with finality. “i need… i need a reason. you’re the reason why i’m still hanging in there, and i don’t want to miss another anniversary.”
he bats his eyelashes.
“being your boyfriend is my favorite job in the whole world.”
and how are you supposed to argue with one of his most heart-fluttering, most wholesome lines yet?
you sigh in defeat. “then you can rest when you’re with me.”
“i love you.”
“i love you, too.”
you lean in to kiss him, but are interrupted when he yawns. your forehead ends up resting against his as you giggle uncontrollably at the unexpected and hilarious view of his open mouth.
“sleepy?”
he bows his head in embarrassment, body vibrating with laughter. “i couldn’t sleep because i was so excited. i wanted to talk to you last night but i was so sure i’d spoil the surprise.”
“of course you couldn’t.” you giggle, removing yourself from his lap while tugging at the collar of his shirt. “come here. let’s sleep some more.”
you lie down on the bed facing each other. jungkook moans in contentment as you engulf him in your embrace, nuzzling his face against your chest. he can smell your body wash, sweet and clean. that— that isn’t new. every muscle in his body decompresses. he needed this, needed you. desperately. tremendously. you pull the thick and warm blanket over yourselves and he melts. while he wishes he was taller, he knows he is still of considerable height. he’s been bulking up, getting stronger than before too. but he doesn’t give a fuck about those at the moment. he’s not even aware. his body fits perfectly with yours— that’s all he knows. oh… he’s melting. but it doesn’t feel like he’s being reduced. he has everything to gain. this is heaven on earth.
he opens his eyes into an awful squint, faced by your cleavage spilling out from the neckline of your night dress. there’s this urge he can’t ignore. it’s not spelt out in his mind, he rather feels like his body is having a fit. next thing he knows, he’s carefully sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of the swell of your boob. he stays still for a few seconds, and then pulls away once he deems himself satisfied. he wipes your skin with his thumb incase he left some saliva, innocent eyes peeking up at you huffing out a quiet laugh.
“you sure that’s all you needed?”
“i’ll devour you later.” he smirks, blinking sluggishly. “i’m tired but just you wait. i’ll go all night!”
“not if i beat you to it…” you tease, having plans of your own. you want to make him feel good. you’ve been going insane thinking about it. “missed you.”
“alright then, let’s do it at the same time.” he says suggestively.
“you know i have a hard time focusing when we do that.” you huff.
“eh, so? not me.” he chuckles. “i think you do a really great job, though?”
“…still! go easy on me a little bit so i can do better.”
“it’s not a competition, baby.” he squeezes your waist affectionately. “plus, i don’t think i’d be able to control myself once i get a taste.”
“jungkook!” you whine, growing flustered.
he laughs out loud, giving your ass a quick spank that resounds through the walls of the bedroom.
it becomes silent again after that.
the tip of your nails graze his scalp with repeated movements, more so for your amusement, but he is practically purring. you can’t imagine your arm being a comfortable pillow either, but he is doing great at making it appear so.
“i realized something.”
“what is it?”
“i really can’t live without you.” he confesses earnestly, then looks up at you with raised eyebrows. “don’t say anything. i know you’ll say something like ‘yes, you can!’”
“i was not. i liked hearing you say it.” you stifle a giggle. “but i’m not going anywhere. you know that.”
“i don’t doubt that.” he sighs with a heavy chest. “sometimes i just get a bit worried that you’d get tired of waiting.”
this isn’t the first time in your relationship that he’s voicing out this fear, but the difference between then and now is stark. with the disconnection, there was a part of you that expected it to resurface.
“babe,” you gently tilt up his face, locking your sincere and love-filled eyes with his. “we’re okay. i’ve loved you since i was 18. this? this is nothing. you’re a part of me, so you’re always with me. and i know you keep me with you too.”
you wear a brave face. you hope that he believes your words as much as you do, because no matter how many boulders the universe throws down your path, all you ever think about is how you and jungkook will surmount them. together. he is your partner after all.
“we’ll get through it like we always do, baby boy.”
jungkook nods and smiles, doe eyes glittering. you love making that happen. “sorry, i think i scared myself when i read stories on the internet.”
“our story is different!”
the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.
“no, seriously-” he cackles, a little breathless.
“we’re one of a kind!” you keep the joke running. you want to keep making him laugh, even if it’s only for a few seconds longer.
“we’ve gone through so much bullshit. not everyone would fight as hard as we did!” jungkook passionately agrees with the same intensity. “you’re right, we always make it work. we’ll get through it like we always do.”
“trust me,” you charmingly implore him. “when was i ever wrong?”
“never!” he immediately shakes his head. “…atleast not about the things that matter.”
“okay,” you shrug. “i’ll take it.”
“goodnight kiss, please.” he cutely pleads.
wild guess: he went home to be babied. not that you’re complaining. this is miles better than having to wrestle him over who gets to be the big spoon. you love giving love. when your heart stops beating, it would be great to celebrate how much you were loved, but you also wish to be remembered as a person who gave love until their last breath.
“goodnight, my love.” you coo, well aware that the sun has risen.
you plant a tender kiss on his forehead. the complaint bubbling in his throat is swallowed when you lean in closer to reach his lips. with his wish fulfilled, he flutters his eyes closed and snuggles as close to you as possible, real and proper rest finally within his grasp. he basks in your warmth and the tranquilizing silence— his breathing steady and his heart at its calmest. beautiful things enter his mind. you are the sun on the first spring day; the clouds that go with him no matter the distance; the waves that kiss the shore and never fail to come back. he heals in places he didn’t know he was hurting.
“hold on, where is bam then?”
“his house. i gave him some treats then he slept again…” his voice comes out muffled. he sniffles jokingly. “the reaction was kind of underwhelming. i think he didn’t miss me as much.”
“of course he’d choose that over a human.”
“i bribed him too early.” he laments.
“wait…” he feels you come to a still. “i think he’s coming.”
he opens his eyes and copies you in focusing on the familiar sound of bam’s paws clicking against the floor. the mattress quakes and he lifts his head to find the dog climbing over your bodies.
he’s seriously a large and tall dog.
“bam, what are you doing here?!”
bam tilts his head and stares back at jungkook, tail wagging as his dad laughs and pets him on the head down to his back.
“he’s so adorable.” you squeal quietly, joining in and scratching under his chin. “i love you, bam.”
bam’s eyes switch to you. he slowly lowers his head, giving your hand a tentative lick as if to show appreciation but he’s also worried that it would prompt you to stop.
“he’s gotten real heavy, huh?”
“he’s got some big muscles like you.”
“of course! he got it from me.”
jungkook’s proud smile drops a little. it morphs into pure fondness once bam starts sniffing at him. he yelps and dramatically falls back, wiping his wet cheek with the back of his hand, but it’s game over once bam pants with excitement. bam chases his face to attack him with his love language.
you watch the scene from the sidelines, laughing so hard that your sides are beginning to hurt. you wish you were recording. you wish that you never forget this.
“okay, okay! you’re happy to see me! i see that now!” jungkook laughs, squeezing bam in a tight hug for a moment.
the dog still refuses to relent, however. they almost look like they’re fighting to the death but the truth is they’re just smothering each other with affection. unbeknownst to them, you make a pained face when one of them accidentally hits your arm multiple times. nevermind, they were definitely both culprits.
“____! save me!” your boyfriend cries out.
he bulldozes through bam and shoves himself into the tiny space he previously, and peacefully, occupied minutes before. he’s squeezing you so tight, nearly crushing you as he laughs with tears in his eyes. they affectionately call it his elmo laugh, the fans, which you adore just as much.
you see it before you hear it. bam makes that face when he’s about to bark. your hush comes out at the same exact second as his barking.
“this is so chaotic!” you try to project your voice louder than everybody else’s.
jungkook’s laughs quieter but harder, if that makes any sense.
you have an arm around jungkook that holds him taut and protected, while the other is busy with getting bam to settle down. you slide your palm across his fur in repeated motions, focusing on the spots that cause his eyes to flutter in relaxation.
“shhh, bam. it’s still too early. let daddy rest first. we can tire him out again later, okay?”
he settles on top of your bodies again. he has stopped moving around, but then he makes that face again, and you really love your healthy sense of hearing.
“behave, bam-” you playfully squeeze his cheeks together before scratching under his chin. “my cutie bam. you can do that for me, right? you’re a good boy! i’m sure you understand.”
he abandons the urge to bark, suddenly fixing his position so you can also scratch at his chest. you almost snort at how funny he looked obeying you on accident because he is begging to be petted.
“that’s right. good job, bam.” you coo, sending him a pleased smile. “you’re so smart. you listen so well.”
you whisper to jungkook. “it’s so cute when it looks like he really understands what i’m saying.”
“it’s the way you talk to him.” he answers quietly, placing tiny kisses along your collarbone. “you’re so sweet.” he almost forgot how good you are with bam. he just fell in love with you all over again.
“but it’d be cooler if he does understand me.” you hum, moving your hand on bam’s head. he finally decides to flop down then. he rests his head over your waist, eyes seemingly inching closer to sleepiness. you sigh in relief. “go to sleep too, baby.”
jungkook breaks the silence a moment later.
“…did you mean me or bam?”
“you!” you chuckle.
“oh-” he laughs at his own foolishness. his arm that is supposed to be hooked around your waist rests over bam’s body instead. he ruffles the dog’s fur softly. “let’s all go to sleep.”
you let out a yawn in response to that. you sniffle, murmuring tiredly. “i love you, baby… your surprise made me so happy. i’ll make it up to you too.”
“i love you more…”
jungkook lifts his head and finds that you have closed your eyes. your chest rises and falls in a calm rhythm. bam is closely following you into dreamland.
heavens, what he wouldn’t give so he could stay here forever and never leave again.
his eyes are heavy with exhaustion, hot with sleepy tears, but he fights his own body to stay awake. with all his might, he gazes in awe at the beauty of a life with you. he wants to always remember what is waiting for him at home.
#jungkook#jungkook drabble#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenario#jungkook one shot#jungkook au#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts fluff#bts reaction
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They're done! I really want to try and make prints again as it's been years and I've never felt like I was very good at making whole posters. Dipping my toe back in with these silly chibis of each Papa with every Ghoul they've had. Perhaps they can also work as a guide for those wanting to learn all the characters? I added in a fair amount of little references with the Ghoul's poses so it'll be interesting to see what you guys figure out and notice!
The prints are on pre-order and won't ship out until November. I've put up 25 of each to start with but if they get low on stock I'll keep adding more until I have them printed and then it'll be a set amount in stock.
Also a reminder about the stickers of every Ghost Papa and Ghoul that I made earlier this year that are also available as customisable badges! Thank you so much to everyone who already bought them and got Etsy to list them as a 'bestseller' for a while. They're still up and in stock.
EDIT: someone informed me Delta was not in Secondo's era so sorry little water ghoul but he got edited out of that drawing.
Characters featured on the prints and are also available on stickers and badges: Papa Emeritus I / Primo, Papa Emeritus II / Secondo, Papa Emerirus III / Terzo, Papa Emeritus IV / Cardinal Copia, Aether, Air, Alpha / Fire, Aurora, Chain / Water, Cirrus, Cowbell, Cumulus, Delta, Dewdrop / Sodo, Earth, Ifrit, Ivy, Lake, Mist, Mountain, Omega / Quintessence, Pebble, Phantom, Phil / Special Ghoul, Rain, Sunshine, Swiss, Zephy.
I can’t link to my Etsy without risking Tumblr hiding the post from tag search results, but the link is in my pinned post, my carrd, I’m emptymasks on Etsy. Reblogs help support artists more than likes ❤️
[ID: Four landscape drawings, one for each of Ghost's Papas and the Ghouls that were in the band with them while they were the lead singer. Each Papa is in the center with each of their ghouls standings to their sides. Every character has their name written above or below them, on brightly coloured backgrounds for each Papa's robe colour. Also, individual pixel art chibi drawings of 69 characters from various European musicals (listed above) that are available as stickers. These drawings are also available as badges where they are placed inside circles to show what they will look like as physical button badges, some of them with plain colour backgrounds and some with 1-3 different pride flags as examples of how you can customise the backgrounds.]
For those who want to know what the little references in the prints are and don't want to guess, they're under the cut:
Omega can be a stompy boy when he's playing guitar, Alpha likes to throw up peace signs, Air is very found of the rock horns hand symbol, there's one close-up photo of Lake out there where you can clearly see his black sclera contacts and he's doing double 'horns' hand symbol, Mountain infamously takes his shoes off when playing the drums and leaves them on the stage at the site of his drumkit, Dewdrop likes to like.. most things including his guitar and his picks and sometimes his own hand, Pebble liked to hand out his drumsticks at the end of shows by dropkicking them into the crowd, Omega wore a flower tucked into his guitar strap during one show and Terzo constantly flirts with him more than other ghouls, Delta is suspected to be the ghoul that attempted to kick an audience member off stage when they climbed onstage and attempted to kiss Terzo, Zephyr was the only band member and only keyboardist who sat down while playing, the special ghoul played by Tobias wore a nametag 'Phil' in an interview, Swiss constantly is showing all his teethies with his smiles and always wiggling and moving around, Aether and Dewdrop often interact with Dew teasing/bothering Aether, Dew and Rain also often interact with Dew constantly reaching to grab his neck and attempt to kiss him, aaaand I think that's everything I intentionally included other than just generally tried to get the poses and expressions to match the personality we've seen from each ghoul.
#the band ghost#fanart#ghost bc#terzo#secondo#primo#copia#papa emeritus#omega ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#swiss ghoul#cirrus ghoul#cumulus ghoul#terzomega#rain ghoul#dewaether#dewdrop x rain#zephyr ghoul#myart#mine#phantom ghoul#aurora ghoul#lake ghoul#river ghoul#chain ghoul#alpha ghoul#air ghoul#ivy ghoul#pebble ghoul#special ghoul
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✧.* BABY PIASTRI
synopsis - in which everyone speculates whether you and Oscar have had your baby or not (Oscar Piastri x Wife/Model!reader)
before you continue: pls reblog and follow if you enjoyed! my requests are open, pop in anytime <3
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yourusername
liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 113, 368 others
yourusername baby daddy 🤤
view all 1,598 comments
yourfan1 HAVE YOU HAD THE BABY???
↳ yourfan2 Right?!? We NEED Confirmation!!!
↳ oscarfan1 you don’t need anything. let them set their own pace
landonorris that smirk tho
↳ yourusername so hot right?
↳ landonorris the hottest
oscarfan2 the anticipation is killing me! is it a boy or a girl?
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oscarpiastri
liked by yourusername, landonorris and 758,892 others
oscarpiastri baby mama 🥵
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oscarfan3 she doesn’t look pregnant there 👀
↳ yourfan3 let’s not speculate on a woman’s body thanks
oscarfan4 what’s the baby’s name? 🥰
yourusername I love you!
↳ oscarpiastri I love you more 😘
↳ landonorris stop being so cute im going to throw up
yourfan5 name a prettier woman
↳ yourfan5 that’s right, you can’t
gigihadid pretty girl! 🫶
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oscarpiastri
liked by yourusername, bellahadid and 924,668 others
oscarpiastri dad life 😎🐥
view all 3,456 comments
oscarfan5 babe wake up, we got confirmation on baby piastri!!
yourfan6 congratulations!! so happy for yall
charles_leclerc seems like a nice life
↳ oscarpiastri it’s the best, I recommend 😉
yourusername my sexy man 🤤
↳ yourfan7 y/ns ready for baby number 2 by the looks of it 😂
yourusername also THIS was your idea?
↳ oscarpiastri It did the job right? Everyone knows we’ve had the baby now 😃
↳ oscarfan7 I have a feeling y/n won’t be trusting Oscar with any future announcements anymore 😂
landonorris urm photo creds?
↳ yourusername I should’ve known you’d help him with his plan 😂
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MODEL Y/N AND OSCAR PIASTRI ANNOUNCE BABY ARRIVAL IN HILARIOUS INSTAGRAM POST
The speculation is over! After weeks of swirling rumors and eager fan speculation, F1 sensation Oscar Piastri and supermodel Y/N have joyfully confirmed the arrival of their first child. The couple, known for their playful and private relationship, took to Instagram in true Oscar fashion with a post that left fans both laughing and overjoyed.
In a post that quickly went viral, Oscar Piastri shared a snapshot that epitomizes his unique sense of humor. The photo features Oscar reclining in an ice bath, looking every bit the doting father surrounded by a collection of bright yellow rubber ducks. The cheeky caption read, “Dad life 😎🐥”, a perfect blend of coolness and whimsy that fans have come to expect from the Australian racing star.
The image, posted late last night, immediately sparked a flurry of congratulatory messages from fans and fellow celebrities alike. Followers were quick to point out the cleverness of the reveal, with many applauding the couple’s decision to maintain their privacy while also sharing their joy in such a lighthearted manner.
Y/N, who has been relatively low-key on social media during the pregnancy, reposted the image on her own Instagram story, adding a heart emoji and the simple caption, “Our little duckling 🐥❤️”. The subtle, sweet addition was enough to melt hearts around the globe, cementing the couple’s place as one of the most adored pairs in the celebrity world.
The announcement comes after months of speculation, as eagle-eyed fans had been piecing together clues from Y/N’s and Oscar’s social media posts and public appearances. The couple, who are high school sweethearts and got married last year, have always been somewhat private about their personal lives, often dodging direct questions about their relationship in interviews. Their decision to keep the pregnancy under wraps until now has been met with a mix of curiosity and respect from the public.
The lighthearted and unconventional nature of their announcement has only endeared them further to their followers. “This is peak Oscar,” one fan commented. “Only he would announce becoming a dad with a bunch of rubber ducks. Love it!”
Fellow F1 drivers were also quick to react, with many taking to social media to congratulate their colleague. Lewis Hamilton posted a series of laughing emojis and the comment, “Mate, this is brilliant. Congrats!” Meanwhile, Sergio Pérez shared the post on his story, adding, “Welcome to the club, Oscar! So happy for you and Y/N.”
Y/N’s friends from the modeling world also chimed in with their well-wishes. Supermodel and close friend Gigi Hadid commented, “So happy for you both! Can’t wait to meet the little one 🐣❤️.” Other notable names like Kendall Jenner and Hailey Bieber also left congratulatory messages, highlighting the couple’s wide circle of supportive friends.
While details about the baby’s name and gender remain under wraps, sources close to the couple suggest that both mother and baby are healthy and doing well. It’s been reported that the couple is currently enjoying some much-needed family time away from the public eye, focusing on bonding with their new arrival.
Oscar Piastri’s journey to fatherhood marks another exciting chapter in his already impressive career. The 23-year-old has been making waves in the Formula 1 world, known for his fierce competitiveness and undeniable talent on the track. His personal life, however, has remained a refreshing blend of humor and humility, as evidenced by this recent announcement.
Y/N, who has graced the covers of countless fashion magazines and walked the runways for top designers, has also been balancing her career and personal life with grace and style. The couple’s shared values and mutual support have made them a power duo, both in their professional and personal lives.
As the news continues to spread, fans eagerly await more updates from the couple, hoping for a glimpse into their life as new parents. For now, the iconic ice bath photo with its playful rubber ducks will remain a delightful and heartwarming reminder of this special moment.
In a world often dominated by glitz and glamour, Oscar and Y/N’s announcement is a breath of fresh air, reminding everyone that sometimes, the simplest and silliest moments are the ones that matter the most.
Congratulations to the happy couple on their new adventure into parenthood!
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#f1 fanfic#formula one smau#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri social media au#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri fluff#f1 smau
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His Onlyfans Girl- Eddie Munson.
Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Eddie Munson x onlyfansgirl!fem!reader
Summary: your best friend’s father becomes one of your subscribers on onlyfans, when you confront him about it things get a little heated. (3.7k words)
Warnings: 18+ mdni, modern AU! age gap (Eddie is late 40’s, reader is in her 20’s), masturbation, pornography, confrontation, slut shaming, arguing, oral (f receiving), p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, creampie.
Author’s note: this is a continuation of this post!
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
When he heard about this "onlyfans" thing he rolled his eyes and brushed it off thinking it was just another porn site. He normally sticks to what he likes and what he knows is reliable, but he kept seeing things online about onlyfans and wanted to see what all the hype was about.
He scrolled down the main page and saw all the random women posing in scandal clad clothes, pretty faces that he'd forget in five seconds once he scrolled past. All of the accounts were locked because he had to subscribe to them and he didn't see a reason to pay for porn when he could get it for free. He scrolled and scrolled until something jumped out at him, your page. He couldn't believe it, you and his daughter had been friends for a long time and he had no idea you were doing these things on the internet.
He immediately kept scrolling and tried to pretend he didn't see that...but part of him was curious. He sighed and scrolled back up and clicked on your account. He knew it was wrong in every sense of the word but fuck, he couldn't look away. He couldn't see anything at all because he wasn't subscribed to your page, he had a strong feeling in his body and he knew exactly what it was. Desire.
His mind raced with a million reasons why he shouldn't do it but his urges were just too strong, he caved and put in his credit card information and subscribed to your onlyfans. His eyes lit up when he saw all of your photos and videos, he knew he would regret this in the morning but he didn't give a fuck. He needed to get off, get off looking at your body.
He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest as he saw you laid out before him on his screen, he always thought you were attractive but this was a whole other level. He could hardly blink because he was afraid he would miss a detail of your body, you were perfect to him, your body was like it had been crafted by god himself just for Eddie to admire. His hand found its way into his boxers as he memorized every line of your figure, the curve of your breasts, the shape of your hips and how they lead perfectly to your pussy.
He started to stroke himself faster as he clicked one of your solo masturbation videos, he breathing became more labored the faster he pumped his cock, he couldn't tear his eyes off of dildo that stretched you out. He wished that was him, that he was your toy, he wanted nothing more than to be the one to bring you pleasure. "Fuck" he whispers under his breath as he feels his orgasm nearing rapidly, he works himself faster until he finally released all over his hand. He falls back into his pillow, he pants hard as he desperately tries to fill his lungs with air, when he comes to his senses he realizes what he had done.
He quickly clears away the website, he deletes his search history praying that no one will ever find out about his taboo acts tonight...especially not his daughter. Guilt and slight paranoia sets in as he thinks about the consequences he would face if she found out, he knew this would hurt her and that was the last thing he would ever want to do, he cursed himself for being so weak and giving into his desires. He took a deep breath and tried to erase you from his mind as he wiped himself clean with a tissue and laid his head down to rest, he closes his eyes and very slowly drifts off to sleep. His dreams were plagued with the images of your body, making for a very restless night.
-
The next morning you woke up to the sun beaming through the curtains filling the room up with a warm light, it was just like every other morning, you allowed your eyes to focus and adjust to the brightness before reaching over and grabbing your phone off the nightstand. You unlock your phone and do your daily check of social media, you scroll through different timelines on various apps to catch up on any news you missed while you slept. When you've had your fair share of meme consumption you take a trip over to your onlyfans account, when you started it a few months ago it was just as a little way to make some extra cash apart from your regular 9-5, but you soon started to gain a following and it became your biggest source of income. You didn't find anything wrong with what you were doing, everyone needs to get by somehow plus you had a lot of fun making your videos, not to mention the positive attention really boosted your confidence.
You scroll through your new notifications, you read all of the comments and saw who liked your posts, you checked out the accounts that had just subscribed to your page most of which go by pseudonyms to remain anonymous. Everything seemed normal until you saw it... "Ed Munson" had subscribed to your onlyfans. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you immediately sat up in bed, you couldn't believe what you were seeing, was this really him? You frantically clicked on the account to find anything to prove it wasn't him, but you were met with a blank page, no profile picture, no bio, absolutely nothing.
Your hands started to shake with nerves as thousands of questions run through your head, maybe it was someone else? If it is him, why did he subscribe to your account? Oh god, what if she finds out? How many Ed Munsons could there be You couldn't believe this for a second, you had known Ed since you were eighteen that's when you first became friends with his daughter, you and her met in a college math class and instantly clicked. You would go over to their place to hang out and he was always kind to you whenever you spoke, but he always kept things brief because he didn't want either of you to feel like he was barging in on your fun. Never once did he ever show that he was interested in you sexually or try to make any advances on you, he was a respectable man and a man that you could trust, but this, this threw you for a loop.
You got out of bed and tried to forget about what you saw, it really couldn't have been him... at least that's what you tried to convince yourself of. You went through your normal morning routine because you had to be at work in an hour but all you could think about was this situation, you were very open with her about your onlyfans and its content but this would crush her. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't let her know about her father paying to see your explicit content, you felt so bad just thinking about how this could affect your friendship, and losing her was something you couldn't afford.
Once you finished getting dressed you grabbed all of your stuff and headed out the door, you got into your car and started it, as you waited for it to warm up you tried to think of a way to make this situation better. You knew it was probably best to leave it alone and pretend it didn't happen but something in you was dying to know just why he decided to subscribe to your account when there are thousands to choose from. Despite your better judgment, you couldn't handle the not knowing part and decided to go straight to the source, you pulled out of your driveway and set off to the Munson residence. Your heart raced as you got closer to the house, there was still a possibility that it wasn't even him and if it wasn't then this already awkward situation would become even worse.
Your hands start to sweat as you grip the steering wheel tightly, you're so anxious about what will come of this, whatever it is can't be good. You pull into the Munson's driveway and shut off the engine, you stare at the front door through the windshield for what feels like an eternity before unbuckling your seat belt and stepping out of your car. You take a deep breath and rehearse what you're going to say to him in your head as you walk up the pavement that leads to the door, you raise a shake hand to the polished wood and knock three times.
-
Eddie was in the kitchen sipping his morning coffee when he heard the knock, he wondered who could be popping in so early, he let out a sigh as he sets him mug down and heads to the front door. You hear the click of the lock being turned before it was opened revealing the man you were looking for. When he saw you his heart immediately fell to his stomach and images of the night before rushed to the front of his mind, he thought he was dreaming because you were the last person he expected to see this morning.
He quickly composes himself and speaks as nonchalantly as possible "Oh uh hey, Y/N, what are you doing here? She left for class an hour ago-"
You take in his appearance, he definitely had just rolled out of bed because he was still in his pajamas and his hair was a bit messy. His smile lines were deep, showing his older age and years of laughter and joy he must've experienced, you could tell he also hadn't shaved in a few days by the salt and pepper stubble on his face. He wasn't an ugly man by any means, in fact, you'd known him to have a few girlfriends over the couple of years you'd known him. His daughter told you he never wanted to get married because being held down to one person just wasn't his style, you never said anything about it but often wondered if he was very lonely.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Munson, I'm not here for her," you start and immediately feel your mouth become dry with nerves as you realize what you're about to accuse him of. "I need to talk to you."
Shit, she knows he thought to himself, he knew he would get caught at some point but not this soon, he nods slightly and steps to the side allowing you access to his home "Please, come in." The tension in the air was so thick you could almost grab it with your hands, you walk into the door and step into the medium-sized living room that was furnished with a couch, recliner, and a flatscreen mounted to the wall. You walked over and took a seat on the suede sofa and he follows behind you taking a seat next to you but keeping a respectable distance. You could hear your heart beating as you fidget with your fingers working up the courage to speak up "So, Mr. Munson-"
"Please, call me Eddie" he cuts you off
You look up at him, his big brown eyes staring back into yours, "Eddie... do you know what I do for work?" You ask him while trying to find any sign of discomfort in his expression
fuck. "You work in retail don't you?" He replies referring to your normal day job
You sigh softly, he's gonna make you say it, "Well, yes I do but-" you pause and look down at your hands, you couldn't look at him when you said this "But... I also do onlyfans."
"Oh" he blurts out, he didn't expect you to be so straightforward about it "I- I've heard about that before... I didn't know you did that sorta thing." He lied through his teeth, his palms started to sweat and he awkwardly wiped them on his pajama pants.
You look up at him and see the blush in his cheeks had become more prominent, you tried so hard to not show your emotions on your face as he lied straight to your face but you couldn't help but grimace "Right." You say flatly "Well this is awkward but... I know you subscribed to my page" You said it. You actually said it. The words hung in the air for a moment before he spoke
"What? I wouldn't do-" he starts to protest but you cut him off
"Please, don't lie to me. It'll just make things worse"
You can see the gears turning in his head as he debates on coming clean, he knows it's the right thing to do but fuck, it was so difficult.
He sighs, he had been caught. "Okay, yes I did subscribe but I- I can explain" he knew he couldn't but he was gonna try his best. "You see, I went on the website and I was looking at all the different models and uh, I subscribed to a page and didn't realize it was you till afterwards" he didn't sound too convinced himself and by the look on your face he knew you weren't buying it. He swallows the spit that was starting to fill his mouth "I'm sorry... I hope you can forgive me"
"Look I don't want to pry into your personal life or anything but I really can't have you looking at my pictures...what if she finds out?"
Something about the mention of his daughter puts him in defense mode, he straightens his posture slightly and speaks in a lower deep voice "What I do in my private time has nothing to do with my daughter. It's none of her business."
You're taken aback by his shortness with you, you've never seen this side of him before "Are you serious? If she finds out about this it would crush her, I'm not gonna have you ruin my friendship just because you're a pervert." You realize what you just said but it was too late, you didn't mean it, well you didn't mean to say it out loud. There were just so many emotions running through you, you couldn't stop yourself.
He scoffs "Excuse me? Young lady I'm no pervert," he crosses his arms in front of his broad chest "I'm not the one selling naked pictures online."
Your mouth drops open slightly, you couldn't believe what he just said to you, but you weren't going to hold back now. "Oh, I bet you didn't have a problem with it when you were getting off to me last night" Your tone was full of sass and was also slightly raised, he was starting to piss you off with his lack of concern so you decided to test him "what if I told her, huh? What if I spilled your dirty little secret?"
His heart sunk, and his anger level began rising at your proposal, he wouldn't let you do that to him...his daughter means everything to him and he wasn't going to let one mistake ruin their relationship. "Don't fucking threaten me, I told you she doesn't need to know anything. I don't need a little slut like you trying to ruin my life, now if you will, get out of my house." He stands up abruptly and grabs you by the arm pulling you up and dragging you towards the door. You try to pull your arm away from his grasp but he doesn't let you go, you plant your feet as best as you can on the linoleum making it harder for him to pull you.
"I'm not going anywhere, we're not done talking about this" you protest
"Well I am." He says with finality "Matter fact, I don't want you to hang around my daughter anymore, clearly, you aren't the sweet innocent girl I thought you were."
This angered you, he had no right to dictate who you could be friends with, his daughter is an adult and he's acting like you're going to corrupt his precious Angel. Before you could think you brought your hand up to slap him but he caught you by the wrist and pulled you into his chest, he looked down at you, rage filling his eyes as he whispered harshly "Don't you dare." Your knees almost gave out on you by the sheer force of his movement, you were so close to his face you could smell the coffee that lingered on his breath. This awoke something in you, something that you knew would bring you nothing but trouble, but oh, would it be worth it. Your eyes flicker down to his lips then back to his eyes before slowly leaning in, Eddie stands still and doesn't move a muscle as he watches you lean in. You gently brush your lips against his, giving him an out in case he didn't want this but he doesn't put up any resistance, you connect your lips together in what starts as a soft kiss but quickly escalates.
His hands grip your waist tightly as he slides his tongue into your mouth, he slowly guides you back to the couch and lays you down before climbing on top of you. You knew this was wrong, he's your best friend's father for Christ's sake, but you knew you couldn't stop this from happening...you needed it to happen. He slips off your shoes leaving you in your socks, you moan softly into the kiss as you feel his hands unbuttoning your pants, the thought of him seeing you naked made you wet, he pulls down your pants and your panties at the same time exposing your lower half. He breaks away from the kiss and sits up a little, he grabs your legs and spreads them apart. "Fuck," he mutters as he takes in the sight of your glistening pussy "It's even better than the photos."
He dips his head between your thighs and begins to feast on your sensitive flesh, you let out a moan as his tongue flicks your clit softly, the prickling of his stubble against your skin sends a shiver down your spine as the pleasure builds within you. "Oh god," you say breathlessly as you feel your orgasm coming, his hands tighten their grip on your thighs and he looks deep into your eyes as he continues his relentless assault on your folds. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you gently rub yourself against his tongue as you go over the edge, your body trembles beneath his touch, and your pitiful whimpers fill the living room as you ride out your high. When he feels you've had enough he comes up for air, he takes a few breaths before attaching his lips to yours once again.
Your taste on his lips is intoxicating, the severity of this entire situation has heightened all of your senses making all of this even more pleasurable for you, you would regret this for the rest of your life but who cares right now? You're about to get fucked. Eddie pulled down his pajama pants revealing his hard, throbbing cock, he strokes it a few times before whispering huskily against your mouth "Get on all fours." You nod and flip over, you rest your forearms on the arm of the couch and arch your back to give him better access, he grabs hold of your hip with one hand and uses the other to guide his dick to your entrance.
He slowly slips himself into your tight hole, you let out a shaky gasp as his thickness stretches you out, he groans as he slowly starts to buck his hips "So fucking tight, baby" he picks up speed slowly before giving it his all, you can't hold back anything as he fucks you hard, all of your moans and whines fly from your mouth without a care. Eddie wraps his fingers around your hair and yanks you back to him making you arch your back even more as you turn your head to look at him. "How's this cock feel?" You could hear all of his lust for you in those words over the sound of slapping skin" Better than that fucking toy huh?" He asks rhetorically before releasing your hair and pounding into you even harder.
As you feel all of your limbs shake as he pleasure you, you hear him say all sorts of dirty things out loud like "Should post this for your fans" and "You take cock so well", you don't have the will to reply because your brain can't form any coherent thoughts. Your heart was racing a mile a minute after your third orgasm, Eddie's groans became louder and his breathing much heavier as he was about to cum, "s-shit" he stuttered out, his hips bucking hard against your ass as he unleashed his seed into you. He loosens his grip on your hips and slowly pulls out of you leaving a trail of his cum to drip on the couch, he slumps back onto the couch and pants hard, he wipes some sweat off his forehead before looking over at you as you flip back over.
It was like he came back to his senses immediately after he came, his eyes widened before he buried his face into his hands "fuck- what have I done?" you could hear his muffled voice cry out, he fucked up big time and there's nothing to do to change it. He sighs and looks up but he averts your gaze, "Not a word about this to anyone, agreed?"
You swallow hard before nodding, "Agreed." You felt terrible about what just happened. "I- I'm sorry about this." You apologize weakly
"Don't be," his voice was calming but still raspy from the sex "It's not all your fault. We'll pretend this never happened."
You reach for your pants and try to put them on as quickly as possible, fuck you think as you remember you have work and you're now an hour late, "I've gotta get going" you say as you stand up and quickly button up your pants and slip on your shoes and stand up, you look down at him laid out on the couch. "I'll see you later?"
He looks up at you, clearly debating what to say, he sighs before saying, "Yeah, see you later."
You give him a final nod before quickly walking towards the door.
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#natti’s 18+#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson
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knockout [woosan x reader]
pairing: woosan x f reader
rating: 18+
genre: smut, boxer au, friends with benefits
summary: Wooyoung invites you over to play after San wins his latest match.
wc: 3.9k
warnings: boxer San, manager Wooyoung, threesome, consensual somnophilia (San is the one asleep), blow job, hand job, spit kink, face-sitting, cunnilingus, face-fucking, choking on cock, cumplay (eating and sharing), dirty talk, San has bruises, they use the pet names ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’ for you but no pronouns, reader wears a dress, established Woosan, San is whiny while he sleeps but gets cocky when awake, Wooyoung is a mischievous lil’ shit (affectionate) the whole way through
a/n: my first ateez fic! please consider a like/reblog if you like it (❁´◡`❁)
-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-
Your phone buzzes late at night, and you already know who it is before looking. You tear yourself away from the TV and check your messages, where you find a selfie from Wooyoung.
His hair is getting longer, pushed back with sunglasses resting on top of his head. (Even though it’s already dark out. Poser.) He wears a black-and-white shirt with a busy pattern and just one button too many undone, a heavy silver necklace around his neck. But all of that is just a sideshow to the main point of the selfie; Wooyoung is winking cheekily at the camera, holding up a big wad of cash. San won the match.
does this mean takeout is on you guys next time? you text him. After a brief pause you add, also congratulations i guess
(But the dismissive tone is just for show, riling each other up a natural part of your relationship with Wooyoung. You’re smiling as you press send, knowing how much a win means to him and San, how hard they work for it.)
Your phone buzzes again. you should come over
for takeout?
idk about takeout but there’s definitely a meal in it for you 😏😜😘🍆💦
You can’t decide whether to grin or roll your eyes at the message and its string of emojis at the end, but you do send Wooyoung an affirmative text back. Your face decides on a grin as you put your phone down, a spark of excitement coursing through you. Guess you’re going out tonight after all.
This thing between you and San and Wooyoung has been going on long enough that usually you don’t even bother dressing up for them anymore, but hey, it’s a special occasion, right? So you slip on some lacy panties and wiggle into a cute dress, and do a quick check in the mirror to make sure you’re looking at least halfway decent. (Not too much fuss. Wooyoung did text you in the middle of the night.)
Just before you go, your phone buzzes one last time; Wooyoung warns you to send a text once you get to the apartment, not ring the door. At first you do not give it too much thought; they do live in a crappy old place, might just be that the doorbell is broken.
But then the added photo loads, and you see San is conked out on the couch, sitting with spread legs and his head lolled back, mouth slightly hanging open. Apparently he hasn’t even changed clothes since the match, wearing a dirty white tank top and a smattering of bruises across his tanned skin. His dark hair is a mess, pretty lips set in a natural pout while he sleeps.
Immediately, a fresh buzz of excitement surges through you. There is a whole new layer of thrill to this invitation now.
After driving over, you send Wooyoung a text that you’ve arrived. He opens the door for you with a bright grin, and puts a quick finger to his lips to indicate you have to be quiet. His sunglasses have disappeared somewhere between making a selfie and your arrival, saving him a roasting from you. He gives your dress an appreciative once-over, and casually kisses your cheek as he lets you in, resting his hand on the small of your back. His good mood is incredibly obvious, fingers brushing against the top of your ass.
You slip off your shoes and step further into the apartment. The place is a bit messy as always, furnished with a combo of thrift-shop finds, stuff they won off bets, and random things donated by friends. (Even their old van is a hand-me-down, though you have no idea where they got it from.)
The result is a home that’s chaotic, but friendly. Shelves piled with keepsakes, stories attached to everything they own. And for all the messiness, at least they do keep it somewhat clean.
There is a desk in the corner, with a few neat piles of paper money on top. Clearly Wooyoung was in the middle of counting — and accounting, his books laying open with a pen next to them. Despite all his antics, Wooyoung is actually pretty responsible with money. He knows that he needs to be, never sure when they’ll get their next win. (You suspect they run a few less-than-legal stints on the side, but neither seems too keen on making that their main gig.)
And then there is San, sitting on their old couch. Still fast asleep.
“Look how tired,” Wooyoung murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “He worked so hard today, I thought we should reward him. How about it, hm? Don’t you think he deserves a prize for taking home the victory?”
You lick your lips, a sharp craving growing in the pit of your stomach at the sight of San’s soft, sleeping face. As far as you are concerned, you are the one getting a prize here. It’s been a long time since you last had the chance to indulge in this particular kink; it can be tricky to coordinate when you don’t actually live in the same house.
And San makes such pretty noises when he’s asleep.
Wooyoung grins at the expression on your face. “Good girl,” he whispers indulgently, pressing one last kiss on your cheek before he playfully slaps your ass, pushing you towards the couch.
You glare back at him, even if the slap sent a crackle of pleasure through you. Just out of principle, to let Wooyoung know he can’t get away with everything. (He can absolutely get away with everything.)
But then you shift your focus to San, getting on your knees in front of him as quietly as possible. He usually is a deep sleeper but still, you are not about to risk waking him too early. You do take a moment to just look at him; to take in the way his broad chest moves with slow, even breaths.
The hard, battered muscles of his body are completely relaxed now, arms laying uselessly on the couch. There are marks on his knuckles, and it’s odd to think he was using those same fists to beat someone up, all for a cash prize, just a mere few hours ago. He looks so soft now. Not for the first time, you marvel at how handsome he is, the sharp cut of his jawline, pronounced cheekbones and pouty lips. So damn gorgeous, even with bruises marring his face, a particularly nasty one on the corner of his mouth. You want to kiss it, but you tuck that thought away for later.
San’s legs are already conveniently spread for you to shuffle close; could be a happy coincidence, could be that San was expecting this. Expecting you.
(This was a conversation you had long ago, where he’d given you a free pass to ‘wake’ him if an opportunity presented itself. It is entirely possible that he and Wooyoung discussed this before contacting you, and something about the idea of San falling asleep while thinking of your mouth on his dick makes you squirm in the best way.)
You press a hand against the front of his sweats, feeling the outline of his cock. You squeeze it with a light touch, give the impressive length a gentle stroke, and delight at the little “Hmm” that San sighs out.
Encouraged by the sound, you pull down the waistband of San’s sweats just enough so you can take his cock out, heavy in your hand. Still soft, though he gives a beautiful twitch when your thumb runs across a vein across the underside.
Your eyes glance up when Wooyoung sits down, just as carefully as you had been. He is slouched next to San with an arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers ghosting against San’s hair but never touching, while he raises his other hand to bite at his thumb. Uncharacteristically quiet, watching with rapt attention.
Heat pools between your thighs, you love being on display for him, teasing a sleeping San. You’re keenly aware of how your dress has ridden up, your ass sticking out, your neckline low enough for an ample view of your cleavage — though you’re sure it’s your hand that has Wooyoung’s full attention right now, wrapped around his lover’s slowly hardening dick.
You gather saliva in your mouth, then let it dribble down on your fingers and San’s cock. He moans, shifting slightly, lips parting a little wider as you take advantage of the easier slide of your palm. The sound goes right to your core; San’s moans are just a bit shallower when he is asleep, a bit more high-pitched. More needy.
More noises start to slip from his lips as you slowly stroke the length of his thick cock, thumb playing against his slit. Sometimes his hips shift to follow your movement, but he does not wake, his conscious mind unaware of your fist working him to full hardness.
San is getting beautifully flushed, a redness blooming across his cheeks and neck as he lets out a faint whimper, brow furrowed. It is always a fun game, to see how far you can take him before he wakes up — before you are treated to that toe-curling moment of aroused disorientation on San’s face, that split-second where he can’t quite figure out why he is so fucking horny until he sees you, nested between his thighs, and a sleepy yet cocky grin breaks out on his face.
But it’s not come so far yet; San is still under the hold of his tired slumber. His breath hitches as your fist twists around the head of his cock, almost like a little hiccup, precum mingling with your spit. You know you can’t hold off your impatience for much longer.
Wooyoung is still staring, though his eyes wander between San’s cock and the wiggle of your ass, his cheeky tongue dipping out to wet his lips. His gaze is heated, intense, and the slight asymmetry of his eyelids makes his stare only more attractive and striking, dotted by the little mole under his eye. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth as he watches, but grins when he catches you watching him in turn. He leans forward, elbow on his knees, and beckons for you to offer your hand.
You do so, and watch how Wooyoung decadently works his mouth and lets a thick globule of spit fall past his lips, onto your waiting palm. His grin widens when you moan weakly as his saliva mingles with yours, with San’s precum, and generously gives you more until your hand is messy and slick. Finally satisfied, Wooyoung leans back with a flirty wink.
You make good use of Wooyoung’s ‘contribution’, pumping San just a little faster now. His noises start to pick up, face contorted with unaware pleasure as a small trail of drool escapes the corner of his mouth. It won’t be long now before he wakes. Honestly, you are surprised it has lasted this long at all; San’s fight must have been particularly strenuous tonight.
Just when you contemplate whether it’s time to get your tongue involved, Wooyoung suddenly gets up from the couch.
You try not to get distracted by him moving around behind you, keeping your focus on San, but then you feel a little tap against your ass. You turn your head to see him lying on his back, head between your feet with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Lift your ass up, he mouths and gestures simultaneously.
You do exactly that, allowing Wooyoung to slide under you with his hands on your waist, his face right underneath the flimsy scrap of lace that covers your dripping core, barely worth the name ‘underwear’. “Seriously?” you whisper, though even just the sight of him, raised eyebrow and ready to eat you out, has more arousal leaking into your panties.
“Hey, San isn’t the only one who worked hard for this match,” Wooyoung whispers quietly, wetting his lips. “Don’t I deserve a reward, too?”
Well… If Wooyoung’s idea of a reward is to have you ride his face, then who are you to deny him? You really keep getting the better deal out of their hard-earned victory. Still, you roll your eyes at him, just to let him know how ridiculous you think he’s being, though the increasingly damp spot on your underwear tells Wooyoung all he needs to know.
He lets out a pleased, dark chuckle as you lower yourself down, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist as he positions you for the best angle. He does not even bother to pull the scrap of lace aside, happily eating you out through it.
San whines when your fingers squeeze around him, liquid oozing from the tip, his hips stuttering lightly before he settles back down. His cock is flushed dark, pulsing in your hand, but it is hard to focus on him right now. A lazy hand continues to stroke him while you struggle to focus on anything but Wooyoung’s muffled moans against your sopping heat.
You bite your lip to keep silent, hips moving on their own accord as Wooyoung’s nose presses against your clit, his mouth undeterred by the obstruction of lace as he makes a sloppy mess of your cunt, eagerly lapping away.
Wooyoung is rarely this quiet, but today he foregoes his usual dirty talk and running commentary to direct his full attention on reducing you to a mindless mess. He is a fiend with his mouth either way, thick swipes of his tongue and grazing teeth, mouth suckling at you through the now-ruined lace.
It takes all your self-control to stay on task, to not get distracted by the sound of a zipper, and soon after the wet noise of Wooyoung jerking himself off, still moaning against your leaking cunt. You shake yourself out of it, wrapping your lips around just the head of San’s cock, licking at the steady stream of precum while you use both hands to work his length. He twitches in your mouth, and for a moment you wonder if he’s going to cum without even waking up at all.
But then Wooyoung uses his nose to nudge your panties aside and sucks directly at your clit, and you moan loudly around San’s cock at the sudden stimuli.
San starts awake at the vibration, his hips reflexively jerking forward. You happily meet his thrust to gag on him, making San hiss a throttled curse. “F-fuck, what’s-ahhh—”
His hand flies to your hair, instinctively holding you in place. Your eyes tear up as he hits the back of your throat and stays there, but you can still glance upward to look at him — and he’s a fucking sight to behold. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, his mouth slack and panting hard for breath as he tries to get his bearings. Eyes landing on you, his cock twitching as understanding dawns. The moment is every bit as beautiful as you had imagined.
“Look who it is, Sannie,” Wooyoung grins when he notices San is awake, taking a break from tongue-fucking you. “Came over just to congratulate you. Ain’t that sweet?”
“Fuck,” San chokes out, his voice gravelly from sleep. He hisses sharply when you hollow your cheeks and give a light suck, drawing a low groan. Slowly, the sleep retreats from his eyes and is replaced by a dark alertness, though his face is still flushed, his body tired.
Lazily, he lets you continue doing what you do, only stroking your hair in encouragement as he releases you, letting you return to shallower bobs of your head. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he groans, biting his lip. Once again, your attention is drawn to the bruise on the corner of his mouth, aching to be kissed — but your own mouth is preoccupied. Later, you promise yourself. There will be time for that later.
As expected, San’s moans are a little deeper now he is awake, slowly rocking his hips as he watches you take him further with every pass of your mouth. You wonder if he’s even aware of the difference in his sounds, or if that’s just a little secret for you and Wooyoung to know.
Speaking of Wooyoung — now that he doesn’t have to keep quiet for San, he gets talkative again. “Use me, baby,” he groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Come on, ride me a little harder. Don’t be shy. Smear that wet pussy all over my face.”
You don’t need to be told twice, enthusiastically granting Wooyoung’s request. He moans happily as you fuck yourself on his tongue, any further words muffled between your thighs. You’d worry about whether Wooyoung can even breathe, except he has a death-grip on your hips and refuses to let you slow down. His nose repeatedly bumps into your clit, sending sparks through you every time, your moans reverberating around San.
San grunts at the feeling, voice husky and low. But as attractive as the sound is… some part of you wants to hear his whimper again. Just to see if you can make him do it.
Well. There are a few sure-fire ways you know to push San to the very limit and beyond — and one of them is immediately available to you.
He was already pushing deep inside your mouth, but you do your best to relax your throat and surge forward, your nose brushing his pelvis as you choke yourself on his cock, then pull back to do it again. And again. A lewd, wet gurgle filling the room every time, your throat constricting as you strain around his thick shaft, tears burning in your eyes.
San groans at your renewed efforts, a greed shining in his sharp eyes when he realises what you’re doing, what you are asking him to do. His fingers scrape your scalp as they embed tighter around the strands of hair. Recognising the unspoken invitation to fuck your mouth as hard as he wants.
“That’s it,” he growls, “you know how I like it. Choke on my cock, hm? I’ll stuff you until you can’t breathe.”
You can barely breathe already; it’s hard to pull in air through your nose like this, with San steadily rocking his hips forward. You go slack in his hold, just letting him use you to his liking, trying to curl your tongue around the underside of his cock in the way you know drives him up the wall.
Wooyoung makes a noise when you slump down on his face, and you try to catch yourself but he won’t have it, only sucking more eagerly onto your clit as he grabs onto your thighs to keep you in place. You moan loudly, and San curses in response, his breath getting pitchy.
It’s working, you realise. It’s not as much as when he is asleep, but slowly a whiny lilt creeps into San’s voice as he uses your throat, his face contorted with pained pleasure.
Your head starts to spin, the barrage of sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Slick sounds and deep moans, a heady scent of arousal permeating the air. San’s cock obstructing your breath, his little whines; Wooyoung’s tongue nimbly flicking against your clit, his hands squeezing at the soft meat of your thighs. You’re tilting, slowly but surely, right over the edge when Wooyoung sucks harshly, exactly when San whimpers.
It hits you like a freight train, the violent force of it enough to have you sobbing around San’s cock. You tremble and shake as electricity surges through you, only held up by San and Wooyoung’s hold on you.
Your garbled cries take San over the edge with you, though he still has enough restraint to pull back slightly, no longer nudging against your gag reflex. He shudders with a tight hiss, clumsy fingers catching in your hair as he spills hot seed inside your mouth.
You almost choke again; it’s messy, and there is a lot, leaving you to wonder if San has been abstaining before the match. Lately you certainly haven’t done more with them than casual texts or hangouts, but can make no assumptions about what he and Wooyoung get up to when you’re not around.
You try your best not to swallow it down — and not spill a single drop, either. At the latter, you don’t succeed entirely, a thin wet trail dribbling down your lips when San pulls out and slumps back onto the couch with a final, loud groan. But when Wooyoung gets out from underneath to sit next to you, and pushes a thumb on your bottom lip to show him, you can proudly stick out your tongue to him, sticky whiteness on display.
“Good girl,” Wooyoung purrs, fondly cupping your cheek. “Don’t even need me to tell you anymore, huh? So well-behaved for us.”
You moan contently at the praise, and again when Wooyoung eagerly puts his lips on you, sloppily lapping up San’s cum from your chin, your lips, until his tongue invades your mouth for a proper meal. You can taste yourself on him while Wooyoung tastes San, who is watching it all with a small, cocky grin, teeth flashing at you.
Wooyoung lets out a needy moan as he drinks deep, his tongue sliding against yours in a heady dance. He grabs for your hand, guiding you down to his still-hard cock, hot and weeping precum. Your fingers are still messy and slick, making it easy for you to jerk him off while he continues to hungrily kiss you, licking up every last drop he can reach.
It’s less of a challenge to make Wooyoung whimper, but the sound is no less exciting for it, his high-pitched moans like music to your ears. He cums messily in your hand, some spilling onto your dress. With a final bite to your bottom lip, he pulls away from your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded and looking thoroughly fucked out, lips swollen and shiny from the essences of both you and San. You grin at him, lifting your hand to suck his cum off your fingers.
Only then do you turn to San, who is indulging himself with slow strokes on his cock while he still watches you and Wooyoung intently.
“Congratulations on the match,” you say casually, cum-stained fingers lingering on your lips.
San’s grin returns to his face and he grabs your hand to pull you into his lap…where you finally get to kiss that bruise on the corner of his mouth. He winces as you press up to him, and you can hear Wooyoung grouse next to you.
“Be careful with him, alright? That’s my meal ticket you got there,” he complains, dusting himself off as he gets back on his feet.
But San wraps his arms around you, keeping you captive. “You don’t have to be that careful,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds you against his crotch. The night is not over quite yet.
-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-
An indeterminate time and a thorough shower later, you are sitting snugly between San and Wooyoung on their shabby old couch. They graciously borrowed you some clothes, leaving you cosily wrapped in a pair of San’s sweats and one of Wooyoung’s oversized hoodies. In your hands you have freshly delivered takeout, enjoying a hot meal together with the guys.
Their treat, of course.
#igby’s writing#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez fic#woosan x reader#san smut#san x reader#wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader#ateez hard hours#kpop smut#ateez scenarios#san imagines#wooyoung imagines#san scenarios#wooyoung scenarios
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op81 | best he'll ever write
summary: [ author!oscar piastri x f!driver!reader — social media au ] being the partner and muse of a celebrated author means that fans start connecting the dots sooner rather than later
faceclaim: gracie abrams
author’s note: i'm secretly a ya romcom book girlie and i feel like that shows SO MUCH in this fic 🙈 delusional for life!
[ masterlist / guidelines / lola's masterlist / series masterlist ]
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, liakblock and 534,230 others
geotag: melbourne, australia
yourusername short break down under 🐨
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user great race at the australian gp y/n!
↪ user first points of the season let's goooo
↪ yourusername and hopefully many more to come 🙌
logansargeant STRAYAAA 🦘🇦🇺🦘🇦🇺
↪ yourusername VEGEMITE ON TOAST 🤤
↪ user sometimes i forget that logan and y/n are both gen z 😂
user the puppy is so adorable 🥺
↪ user i wonder whose it is 👀 y/n's said that her schedule doesn't allow for pets
oscarpiastri not my birthday cake...
↪ yourusername sorry not sorry 😉
↪ user who the hell is oscar piastri and why is y/n replying to his comment 😭
↪ user don't you talk about my favourite best-selling author like that 🤺
oscarpiastri has added to their story
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you replied to oscarpiastri's story
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 3,393,210 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername can't believe that little kid is now a 3-time nyt best-selling author 🥹 so proud of you oscarpiastri 💗 i haven't been able to put eighty-one seconds down 📖 available in bookstores near you!
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user i love how y/n always supports and promotes oscar's books 🥺
↪ user they're so adorable together my heart can't take it
oscarpiastri Thanks for the encouragement. Couldn't have done it without you 👍
↪ yourusername damn right you couldn't have 😤
user okay but who took the photo of y/n 👀
↪ user i'm betting it was oscar 😜
↪ user hello what 😳😳😳
↪ user oh my sweet summer child...
liked by yourusername, hachetteaus, johngreenwritesbooks and 293,192 others
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oscarpiastri Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me. Eighty-One Seconds is finally yours and we can't be more happy to share it with you. As many of you have guessed, it is my homage to Y/N and all the time we have spent together. My wife, my love, my heart. I'm grateful that you're in my life. Forgive me for re-using my words, but here's to eighty-one more years together.
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user hold on a damn second 🤚 his WIFE??? when was this a thing 🧐
↪ yourusername 🤭
↪ user give us answers please 🙏 i haven't had peace since oscar posted this
yourusername i love you too, oscar jack piastri 🤍
↪ user oh he literally named his mc after himself 😭
↪ user GOODBYE??? JACK AS IN HIS MIDDLE NAME??? oh my god they really weren't subtle
williamsracing signed copy when 😏
↪ hachetteaus already on its way 🫡
user honestly i'm surprised they managed to hide their relationship for this long 💀
↪ user oh they did NOT we were just blind
↪ logansargeant I didn't find out until I got the wedding invitation in the mail 🤝
↪ landonorris i think that's just cause you're oblivious mate 😂
↪ logansargeant what???
↪ landonorris they literally make out all the time in williams hospitality
↪ yourusername lando... 😒
user if your man isn't writing a book professing his love for you, what's he doing with his life?
↪ user oscar's set the standard 😌
likes and reblogs are appreciated!
taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads @misartymis @c-losur3
#solwriting#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#f1 social media au#f1 imagine#f1 smau#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic
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In the Blink of a Lens
Summary: When Spencer Reid finally succumbs to technology and gets a smartphone, he takes a tentative step into the digital world by sending his best friend (and colleague) Y/N a picture. What starts as an innocent attempt to embrace modern tech leaves Y/N flustered as the seemingly innocent gesture forces her to confront feelings she’s been ignoring for years. Neither of them is prepared for the powerful impact of a single, innocent photo as the lines between friendship and something more start to blur.
(AKA Spencer sends the above selfie and reader gets horny because his hand is quite literally swallowing the phone HAHAHA)
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Hand kink/fixation. Overstimulation. Oral (both m and f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected sex/P in V sex (do as I say not as I do and STAY PROTECTED IRL!!). Dirty talk/praise kink. Softdom!Spencer and bratty!sub!reader. Some religious phrasing (because who are fanfic writers really without it?) Pull-out method used (again, do as I say not as I do!!) Very brief mention of a sex toy (doesn't get used). Fluffy smut. Two idiots in love/best friends to lovers trope. <3
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader
A/N: This is my humble contribution to the Spencer Reid hand kink supremacy (no but seriously how are his hands THAT attractive??). This is kinda sorta an AU I guess because I wrote this with season four Reid in mind but I'm not sure (and Google will not give me a clear answer) if that type of iPhone was around then so let's just pretend it was for the sake of the fic pls. :') Also the "Sincerely, Spencer Reid" was a direct nod to B99's very own Raymond Holt because I could definitely see him and Spence handling tech the same way LMAO. As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :) (I also ask that my work not be uploaded to other platforms or translated without my explicit permission. Thank you!)
Am I doing this selfie thing right? Sincerely, Spencer Reid
The screen felt almost blinding in the dim lighting of Y/N's bedroom as she stared slack-jawed at the image open on her phone.
Spencer finally upgraded to a smartphone a week ago after an unfortunate crash to the ground (stupid raised sidewalk) shattered the old flip phone that had long ago earned him the nickname "Grandpa" from his pain-in-the-ass-loving best friend. Y/N had never seen a man so devastated over losing what was essentially a brick that made calls, so to cheer him up, she helped him pick out a new phone and set it up.
She was beginning to regret that decision as she gawked at the selfie Spencer had sent.
It was sweet—an innocent photo of him sitting in his car, just after finishing the paperwork he’d insisted on handling alone, despite her offers to help. He'd banished her to her apartment, as stubborn as ever. The shot was taken in his rearview mirror, a faint grin tugging at his lips, his maple-toned eyes obscured by the phone. There was nothing about the image that should have made her pulse quicken. But when the realization hit her, a rush of warmth flooded her face.
It was his hand.
His hand seemed almost too big for the phone, dwarfing it as he snapped the picture. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how large his hands were—everyone did—but she’d never given it much thought. Until now. Watching the way his fingers effortlessly swallowed the device, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. There was something about the sheer size of his hand, the way it seemed to overpower the phone, that made her suddenly hyper-aware of every detail.
His fingers were long, elegant, and well-cared-for; fingers that seemed capable of touching parts of her she'd never been able to reach on her own—
No. No, no, no. There was absolutely no way she was having these thoughts about Spencer Reid. Spencer, her endearingly awkward best friend of four years. Her rock. Her partner in the field. The man she’d always thought of as just that—nothing more. Well...
Y/N did have a crush on him once, in the earliest stages of their friendship. But it was just a small, silly, unreciprocated crush that she locked away in the deepest parts of her subconscious so that she could at least still be his friend. She accepted that it would never happen and moved on. Or she thought she had...
A muffled curse leaves Y/N's lips as she realizes she never responded, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard as she struggles to think of a response. Since when has she ever struggled to talk to Spencer? Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with her tonight? Was she ovulating?
Y/N: Next time, show off those pretty brown eyes of yours and you've got it down pat :)
Okay... That sounded way flirtier than she intended... But that's how they usually joked with each other, right? She was just overthinking everything because she was exhausted from their most recent case. That's it.
Y/N: Also... why have you not put your phone case on yet?? You're practically begging for another sidewalk incident to happen, Grandpa.
That's better. That feels normal.
She sets her phone down on her nightstand, picking up her abandoned book to continue reading. Y/N's heart rate is almost back to normal when her phone's ringtone blaring startles her, the book falling to her lap with a muted thud. An annoyed groan rumbles in her throat as she reaches over to grab the device, internally praying it wasn't Hotch calling with another case. They had JUST gotten back from Ohio not even six hours ago and she just wanted to rest—
To her surprise, it was Spencer calling.
"It's awfully late for you to be calling, Grandpa," Y/N drawled as she answered the call, her lips curling up into a grin as she heard Spencer scoff on the other line. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"
"I am in bed," Spencer grumbled in response, and she could hear some shuffling as he got comfortable. "And I put the case on right after I sent the selfie, thank you very much. Speaking of, did you know that the origin of selfies was actually believed to be..."
Spencer launched into a thorough explanation of not only the origins of selfies but also a detailed account of why self-portraits came about. Y/N hung onto every word, just as she always did when he spoke. Most people found his rambling to be annoying, but not her. She thought it was fascinating how much information he kept tucked away in that brain of his and was more than willing to listen and ask questions about anything he blurted out.
The conversation stretches on for another hour, neither of them wanting to be the one to end it. It’s not until the fifth yawn escapes Spencer that Y/N finally chuckles into the phone before reluctantly saying goodnight. Spencer’s voice is warm as he wishes her sweet dreams, and the call ends with the soft beep of disconnecting. And, for the first time in a long while, sweet dreams she did have…
"Does that feel good? Hm, pretty girl?" Spencer murmured into her ear as she writhed between his spread legs, her bare back pressed flush to his clothed chest.
The night had started with celebratory drinks after finally closing one of their more grueling cases, the team getting some much-needed relaxation and bonding in. Spencer was Y/N's designated driver as per usual since he didn't drink, instead choosing to nurse a soda as he eyed Y/N down from across the booth.
He was directly across from her, snugly between Derek and Hotch. But he wasn't paying attention to them. His eyes had been fixated on her from the moment she'd come back from the bar with Emily and Penelope, tracing the contours of her flushed face as she tipped her head back and took another shot.
Y/N had no intentions of getting completely drunk, instead choosing to remain just tipsy enough to enjoy the warmth that flowed through her body from the alcohol and maintain a steady buzz. That way she could be aware of her surroundings while also enjoying herself and the company of her team.
The bar was dim, the pounding of her heartbeat matching the beat of the music bumping overhead as her gaze fell on Spencer. Her brows furrowed at the unabashedly hungry look in his eyes, her tongue poking out to wet her lips subconsciously. She had to have been hallucinating. There was no way he'd be looking at her like that... right?
But he had been. And that same look is exactly what led them to where they were now, with Spencer propped up against her headboard holding her at his mercy while his fingers pumped tirelessly into her drenched pussy. She was sure the sight of them was downright filthy, an erotic contrast of her completely bare body pressed against his fully clothed one.
Y/N was in shambles, her legs trembling as her nails dug uselessly into his thighs while soft whimpers and moans flowed freely from her kiss-swollen lips. Her mind was reeling, a dizzying mixture of the remaining alcohol in her system, the pleasure coiling tightly in her lower stomach, and the knowledge that it was Spencer causing said pleasure.
She was so, so close... just a few more strokes of his fingers and...
A sharp gasp sounded through the bedroom as Y/N jolted awake, her chest heaving as she shakily sat up to turn off her alarm. She blinked hard, attempting to clear the fog from her vision as she fell back into her pillows. The dull aching between her thighs served as a sore reminder of what she was so close to achieving in her dream...
Her eyes snapped open as the memory of the dream hit her like a tidal wave. Guilt, confusion, and sheer horror crashed over her, and she groaned, her hands dragging down her face in frustrated disbelief. She’d just had a dream—a wet dream—about Spencer Fucking Reid.
What had gotten into her?
Before she could dive too deep into why her crush on Spencer had apparently resurfaced with a vengeance after being dormant for so long, her phone dinged with a message from the genius himself. It felt like the universe was rubbing salt in the wound, taunting her for the forbidden thoughts she couldn’t seem to shake about her best friend.
Spence <3: Are you going to get coffee? Sincerely, Spencer Reid
Y/N snorted out a laugh at how he signed his text, shaking her head as she responded.
Y/N: ... Spence, you don't have to sign your name on each text. I have your number saved. And yes, I am :)
A minute passes before his response comes through.
Spence <3: Oh. Well then, can you also bring me coffee please?
Y/N: Of course I can <3
Her earlier guilt lingers in the pit of her stomach as she sets the phone down, rolling out of bed with a sigh to begin getting ready for work. How was she going to face him after having a dream like that? Maybe it was a fluke; a one-off occurrence manifested from her lack of sexual endeavors so her brain had no choice but to use Spencer as a fill-in for her fantasies.
Opting to pretend it never happened so she could face her best friend later, Y/N finished getting ready and left for the café, determined to get there on time for work.
The elevator dinged as Y/N strolled into the bullpen, her and Spencer's usual orders in hand and a soft smile on her face. Thankfully, today was a paperwork day—a task most of the team dreaded, but one Y/N welcomed. It gave her a chance to recover from the constant motion sickness from the jet and the relentless flirtations of the officers when they worked cases out of state.
"Mm, my very own coffee fairy!" Spencer grinned, setting down the stack of papers he’d been poring over. His eyes sparkled as she made her way across the room, finally meeting his gaze from across the desk as she stopped in front of him. "Have I ever told you you're the best?"
"Yes, you have," Y/N teased with a playful grin, holding out his coffee. "But I don’t mind hearing it more often."
Her dream, it seemed, hadn’t been a fluke, a realization that hits her as Spencer grabs his coffee. Her eyes involuntarily track the way his fingers curl around the Styrofoam cup, and a shiver runs up her spine when they inadvertently brush against hers. Her cheeks flush as she quickly pulls her gaze away, meeting his curious eyes instead.
"You feeling okay, Y/N? You look a little flushed," Spencer murmured, his brow furrowed in concern as he eyed her over the rim of his cup.
Y/N blinked, her heart pounding in her throat as she swallowed and nodded. The sight had sent her mind reeling, the memory of those same fingers buried deep inside of her in her dream the night before surfacing against her will.
"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine I just-"
Before Y/N could finish stammering out her lame excuse, Morgan sauntered into the bullpen with Garcia, the pair immediately honing in on her and Spencer as they made their way over.
"Oh, c'mon Y/N! Seriously? Pretty boy here gets a coffee but the rest of us don't?" Morgan taunted, chuckling as Y/N reached out to playfully swat at his arm with an eye roll.
"Well obviously! He's her work husband," Penelope chimed in matter-of-factly, giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows. "It would mean a divorce was brewing if she didn't."
The team had started the joke years ago, teasing her and Spencer for being the youngest members and for how quickly they’d clicked. To everyone else, it was obvious their friendship ran deeper than either of the two realized. The problem was that neither one of them could see it. Some profilers they were.
No matter how many times the joke was made, Spencer’s face still turned bright red every single time.
"Har dee har har," Spencer scoffed, his eyes shifting to the cup still gripped in his hand.
The banter was cut short as Hotch stepped out of his office, everyone mumbling their goodbyes and scurrying back to their desks to get their work done. Y/N welcomed the distraction with open arms, diving into her work to try to get her mind off of her conflicted feelings towards her best friend.
All day long, Y/N fought the growing urge to watch Spencer’s hands, but it was impossible to ignore. Her eyes were drawn to the way his fingers traced the edge of a case file as he analyzed it, or how they drummed a steady rhythm on his desk, each tap somehow amplifying the tension she was trying to suppress.
Her breaking point came when the team was wrapping up for the day. Spencer, eager to show off, insisted on demonstrating a new cardistry trick he’d learned. The rest of the team gathered around, and Y/N felt herself drawn in, unable to look away. Her eyes locked on his fingers as he deftly manipulated the cards, the muscles in his hands flexing with each smooth, controlled movement. She barely registered her open mouth or the way her pulse quickened—every part of her attention was on him.
Y/N was jolted back to reality when Emily nudged her, a raised eyebrow full of amusement as the rest of the team cheered and complimented Spencer on his newly acquired skill. Rather than meet Emily’s knowing look, Y/N quickly murmured her praise for Spencer, then hastily made her exit, claiming she needed to hit a store before it closed.
If she thought that day was bad, the next few weeks were hell.
The BAU had two back-to-back cases, leaving them no time to rest as they flew straight from Tennessee to Arizona. The dry heat seemed to make Spencer restless—constantly running his fingers through his hair, fidgeting with his watch, or rolling up his sleeves. Meanwhile, Y/N felt her sanity slipping away, her thoughts unraveling as she stumbled over her words or completely lost track of what she was saying—because she couldn’t stop staring at those goddamned hands.
Spencer wasn’t blind to the shift in her behavior. He’d noticed how she started to occupy herself with something whenever he entered the room, or how she became increasingly uneasy around him—spinning the rings on her fingers, tugging at the necklace he'd given her for her last birthday, or even finding reasons to leave the room entirely the moment he stepped in.
Y/N's usual teasing had begun to feel hollow, and the familiar touches she used to give him—guiding him gently by the hand, rubbing his shoulder when frustration set in, or planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek before leaving—had completely disappeared.
He felt gutted, unable to think of a single reason for Y/N's sudden distance. The uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his stomach with worry. What if she was tired of him? Or worse… what if she had finally seen through his feelings for her and was repulsed by them?
When the team wrapped up in Arizona and boarded the jet home, Spencer made up his mind.
After Y/N chose to sit next to Emily instead of her usual spot beside him, he couldn’t take it anymore. The not knowing was eating at him, and more than anything… he missed her. She was the one person who saw him for who he truly was, the one who understood him better than he understood himself. The one who brought him solace during the toughest cases and reminded him why he kept going. The thought of losing her was unbearable, and he promised himself he’d do whatever it took to fix whatever had gone wrong.
As soon as the jet touched down in Quantico, Y/N quickly muttered her goodbyes and made a beeline for the parking garage. Finally, she was free. Free to go home, shut herself off, and stop behaving like a complete mess around Spencer. She hated how distant she’d been, but she couldn’t help it. The weight of her obsessive thoughts about him and the feelings she’d tried to bury for so long had completely overridden her rational thoughts, leaving her acting out of control.
Fingers closed around her upper arm just inches from her car, and a sharp yelp escaped her lips. She spun around, startled, to find an equally surprised Spencer standing there. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard him following her.
"Jesus, Grandpa! Make an announcement before you sneak up on people!" Y/N complained loudly, turning away from him to unlock her car and toss her go bag into the backseat.
Spencer couldn't help but feel some relief at the nickname, a surge of hope coursing through him. Grandpa. She hadn't called him that in almost two weeks. He cleared his throat, holding onto his courage as he finally addressed her recent behavior.
"Sorry! Sorry, I just— I wanted to make sure we were okay? I’ve noticed you’ve been acting… not like yourself lately. Not that I’m calling you weird or anything—"
Y/N's heart broke at the nervous rambling spewing from his lips as he stood before her, tucked into himself and fidgeting with his hands as he tried to speak. God, she was such an asshole.
"Spence," Y/N murmured, gently interrupting him before letting out a soft sigh. "I promise, we're fine. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distant. It’s just… I’ve been so stressed with the cases, and compartmentalizing has been harder than usual. I guess I didn’t want to drag you into it. I’m really sorry."
It wasn't necessarily a lie. She really had been stressed and struggling with compartmentalizing... just not because of their job.
Spencer’s shoulders relaxed, his tense expression softening into one of understanding. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You don’t have to carry that burden alone. I’d much rather you let me in than struggle with it on your own."
Scratch that. She wasn't just an asshole. She was the biggest asshole in the world for making him feel the way he had.
"I know that. I really do," Y/N murmured, her fingers nervously playing with her lip. "It's just… I get way too independent sometimes." She sighed, then brightened. "How about this? Tomorrow’s our first Saturday off in over a month… Why don’t you come over and we can do a movie marathon? We could use some good 'work spouse' bonding, don’t you think?"
Spencer’s smile stretched across his face, his voice a little more eager than usual and his cheeks flushed. "Yeah, I'd, uh... I'd love that. Let's do it."
Y/N returned his grin, her heart fluttering from how excited he looked. Relief flooded through her veins as he agreed to her plans, not realizing how much she had truly missed him the past few weeks since she'd been so focused on trying not to gawk at him every five minutes.
"Perfect. It’s a date,” Y/N teased, her smile widening. “Now, get in. I’m not letting you take the train back this late."
"What? Isn't this what you wanted, sweetheart?" Spencer crooned into her ear, tightening his hold around her wrists as he kept them pinned above her head.
Another frustrated whine left her lips as she tugged uselessly against his hold, but they both knew she didn't actually want to slip free. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around both of her wrists, his other tracing maddeningly up and down her side.
"Or did you want Officer Davidson's hands on you instead?" His tone was taunting, a hint of jealousy tainting his words as he tightened his grip.
The moment they stepped into their shared hotel room after leaving the precinct, Spencer was all over her. She’d noticed the heated glares he shot her way while she stood across the room, wearing a bored expression as Officer Davidson repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) tried to flirt with her.
They hadn't announced their new relationship status to the team yet per Spencer's insistence, but it was obvious from the intensity in Spencer’s eyes that he wanted to shout it to the world now. The way he glared at Davidson made it clear he was ready to stake his claim, watching the officer eye her like prey.
Now they were here, with Spencer hellbent on making sure she understood that she was his.
Y/N shook her head, looking up at Spencer pleadingly as she tilted her hips up in search of his. "No, never. Only want you, Spence."
A dark chuckle escaped him as he smirked down at her, his hand, which had been trailing along her side, now cupping her chin. His fingers gently squeezed her cheeks, coaxing her lips into a pout.
"Only me? Is that right, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, loosening his grip to press on her bottom lip with his thumb before sliding the digit into her mouth. "Because it sure looked like you were enjoying his attention."
The flushed head of his cock teased her entrance, pressing between her folds as his hips slowly rocked back and forth, prolonging her teasing instead of giving her what she wanted. She groaned around his thumb, sucking the digit further into her mouth and holding his gaze in an effort to tempt him into finally fucking her instead of just grinding against her.
A soft hiss fell from his lips as his gaze darkened. He shifted his weight above her, keeping her wrists clasped in his hand and shoving them into the mattress as he began to rut against her harder. Her sharp gasp sounded through the air as he angled his hips up, the tip of his cock dipping into her deliciously before he halted his movements, keeping only a few inches inside of her.
Y/N writhed beneath him, whimpering her protests around his thumb as her jaw slackened, muffled pleas spilling from her lips as she began to beg uselessly for him to just fuck her already.
Spencer pressed down on her tongue with his thumb, a grunt escaping him before he yanked his thumb out of her mouth, using the hand to pin her down instead.
"Be still—"
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of morning pouring through her curtains, and she let out a disgruntled groan as she blindly searched for her phone on the nightstand. After weeks of peaceful, dreamless sleep, of course she would dream about Spencer the night before their hangout. Wait—
Y/N sat up abruptly, unlocking her phone to check the time, only to notice a message waiting for her on the lock screen.
Spence <3: I’ll be there in an hour with a surprise.
Sent twenty-three minutes ago.
Fuck. She'd completely forgotten to set an alarm to get ready for their movie marathon, despite being the one who had suggested it in the first place. Whatever brain cells that photo had scrambled in her brain needed to get a grip so she could function on a level above Neanderthal.
Y/N: Surprise? You spoil me, old man. I'll see you then :)
Y/N exhaled wearily, rolling out of bed and dragging her feet across the plush carpet. She shuffled over to her dresser, picking out an outfit consisting of black yoga pants and an old band tee before heading to the bathroom for a cold shower. Maybe it would clear her head—or at least get rid of the incessant aching between her thighs. It worked on men, right?
One miserable shower and a change of clothes later, Y/N finally managed to clear some of the fog clouding her mind. She darted around her apartment, tidying up in a flurry before Spencer arrived. Moving between the kitchen and the living room, she gathered everything for their movie marathon: a pile of 90's slasher films spread out on the coffee table, her biggest throw blanket draped across the sectional, and a bag of popcorn popping away in the microwave.
Spencer's signature knock rang through the apartment at the same time the microwave started beeping, signaling that the popcorn was done.
"Coming!" Y/N shouted from the kitchen, opening the microwave door so it wouldn't repeat the shrill noise before making her way to the front door.
She swings it open with an excited grin, her gaze immediately dropping to the bag in Spencer's hand. She beckons for Spencer to come in, trying to sneak a peek at what was in the slightly crinkled paper bag.
"Geez, don't look too excited to see me," Spencer chuckled, following Y/N into her kitchen.
She waved dismissively, laughing softly as she grabbed the bag of popcorn and a bowl to pour it into. Spencer sat the bag on the counter, finally revealing its contents as he pulled out a tub of ice cream and some sour gummy worms.
"A man after my own heart!" Y/N gasped with an exaggerated swoon, cackling as Spencer swatted at her playfully.
"You said you were stressed, and I know you’ve got a sweet tooth just like me, so I figured it’d be perfect for our movie marathon," Spencer said with a shrug, the faintest blush creeping up his neck.
That kind of thoughtful behavior was just another reason her emotions had been in turmoil for the past few weeks. The selfie had opened a door to a spiral of introspection, one that made her revisit every moment they’d shared. She had always known their friendship straddled the line between platonic and something more, but she’d convinced herself it was simply because they were so comfortable with one another. It wasn’t until now that she began to wonder if those boundaries had been blurred intentionally — if, deep down, they both had wanted more all along.
The movie marathon kicked off after a bit of grumbling from Spencer, who finally gave in to watching the cheesy slasher films he’d insisted were beneath him. A few awkward moments of shifting on the couch later, they settled into a comfortable spot—Y/N tucked into his side, both of them with snacks in their laps and the throw blanket wrapped around them, ready to dive into the horror-filled lineup.
As they settled into the movie, Spencer’s gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment too long. He noticed the drip of vanilla ice cream at the corner of her mouth, the sight causing an unwelcome tightness in his pants. Before he could stop himself, he reached over. His thumb gently swiped the sugary trail now pooling along her lower lip, a soft swipe that left his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
"Here, you've got a little..."
The words died in his throat as her lips wrapped around his thumb, both of their eyes widening as their gaze met.
In that moment, everything fell into place for Spencer. It wasn’t stress that had been driving her distant behavior—he realized with a sudden jolt—it was something else entirely. The way she'd been pulling away, the tension between them… it wasn’t just exhaustion or anxiety. No, it was something far more complicated. It was desire.
Y/N jerked backward, nearly sending all of their precariously placed snacks to the floor as her face burned with embarrassment. "Oh, my God I- I'm so sorry Spence," she stammered, her words tripping over each other. "I have no idea why I did that-"
"Y/N."
Spencer cut her off with a hushed murmur of her name, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stopped her nervous rambling.
"It's okay. I-I liked it," Spencer reassured her softly.
Y/N stared at him, dumbfounded.
"What?"
"I liked it."
Spencer repeated himself surely, but the tremble in his voice gave away the fact that his brave front was exactly that: a front.
"I—" He hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping him. His hands fumbled with the snacks for a moment, setting them carefully on the coffee table as if buying time. He finally turned to face her fully, the weight of his words settling in. "Y/N… I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. I never said anything because I was scared… scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And after everything these past few weeks, with you pulling away, I thought maybe you’d figured it out and hated me for it. But… maybe I was wrong. Maybe you actually feel the same way I do..."
Y/N’s mouth parted in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn’t come. Spencer loved her. He always had. And she had spent all this time convincing herself her feelings were one-sided, certain he couldn’t possibly feel the same way.
Spencer's voice wavered as he spoke, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. "Please, tell me I was wrong. Tell me you feel the same." His words hung in the air, and he held his breath, waiting, afraid that his confession might have been the thing to push her away for good.
The raw vulnerability in his voice broke through the fog in her mind, and without thinking, she nodded quickly, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them.
"Yes! Yes, Spence, I feel the same way," she breathed, her voice shaky as she looked up at him, eyes wide with a mix of relief and disbelief. "I always have… I just… I convinced myself it was impossible. I never thought you could feel the same."
A soft laugh escaped him, his grin widening as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "How could I not, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me. You’re the reason I started believing in soulmates… because I know I’ll never find anyone more perfectly made for me than you. You’re it. Always have been."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her eyes welling up involuntarily. No one had ever spoken to her with such reverence, and in that moment, she realized she held him in the same regard. But where Spencer's words were so effortlessly beautiful, hers often fell short. So, instead of trying to find the right ones, she chose to show him just how deeply he mattered to her.
Within seconds, her lips were on his, her hands gently cradling his face as she pulled him closer. Spencer surrendered to the kiss, his hands sliding to her waist, mirroring her movements and pulling her in.
It started as a slow, hesitant kiss that rapidly devolved into something more desperate as the weight of years of silent longing melted away between them. What Y/N couldn't articulate into words she poured into touch, threading her trembling fingers into his soft hair and tugging, urging him to hover over her as she laid back against the couch. Her lips moved against his fiercely, trying to convey the silent message that she was just as in love with him as he was with her.
The movie had long since faded into the background, its faint dialogue and sporadic screams now an odd soundtrack blending with the muffled whimpers and soft pants that filled the space between them as their hands began to roam. Spencer's hips were nestled between hers, unmoving and stiff as he tried not to mindlessly hump against her like an animal in heat.
Y/N noticed Spencer's rigidness, breaking the kiss to look up at him with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?" She breathed out, propping up on her elbows and brushing their noses together. "Are we moving too fast? We can stop if you want, I-I'm sorry—"
"No!" Spencer borderline shouted in his haste to ease the insecurity he saw creeping into her eyes, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. "No, no that's not it at all. I just, um... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how far you wanted this to go."
Y/N’s shoulders relaxed, a small frown giving way to a playful smirk. She idly twisted the loose curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers, her gaze locking with his.
"I want you, Spence. All of you. If that's what you want, too."
Spencer's nod was immediate, his forehead almost knocking into hers, causing her to laugh at his eagerness. "God, yes. I want that, so much. I want you so much."
Y/N grinned as she tilted her head to brush their lips together, landing a chaste kiss on his mouth before she tugged him down, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "Yeah? You wanna fuck me, Spence?"
He inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as his head fell into the crook of her neck. If he were younger, he probably would have just cum in his pants from her words alone. But he was a man now. A barely composed man who was dizzy from the intoxicating scent of her perfume crowding his nose and the most painful erection he's had since puberty straining against his slacks.
"Such a crude mouth you have," Spencer murmured in feigned disappointment, shaking his head before pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of her neck. "Maybe I should fill it up until you learn some manners, hm?"
He traced the fingers of his right hand up her side as he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, his left hand pressed into the cushions to keep him from laying all his body weight onto her. He'd caught her lingering glances at his hands throughout the last few weeks. He just hadn't been sure why she'd been staring at them so hard... but now? Now, he knew exactly why she'd been so fixated on them, and he planned to use that to his advantage.
The whimper that slipped from Y/N's lips as Spencer slid two fingers into her gaping mouth confirmed his suspicions, the shit-eating grin on his face growing wide as he pressed the digits down against her tongue. She began to suck at his fingers eagerly, the feeling of her tongue laving over them making his body tremble in anticipation.
His hips began to rock against hers, slowly grinding against her aching core as he pressed kisses up and down the side of her neck. Once he was satisfied with his teasing, he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a slick 'pop', replacing them with his tongue as he kissed her deeply.
Y/N’s mind whirled, both surprised and intrigued by the sudden shift in his demeanor, captivated by how effortlessly he stepped into control. It wasn’t what she’d anticipated at all. She’d seen glimpses of this side of him—brief moments in the field or during interrogations—but never like this. The man before her was assured and confident, a stark contrast to his usual, endearing awkwardness.
Their kiss grew hungry as Spencer continued where they had left off before, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt and bunching the fabric as they trailed up. He broke the kiss long enough to help her out of the shirt, tossing it somewhere in the direction of the TV before capturing her lips once more. He was a man ravenous, consumed by the sweetness of her lips, and even the seconds it took to remove her t-shirt felt like an unbearable eternity without them.
Her hands were just as busy as his, dragging down his clothed chest before finding the button of his slacks in the cramped space between them. Her fingers fumbled with the button blindly, and her movements faltered when his teeth gently tugged at her lower lip.
"Off," Y/N whined indignantly against his mouth, tugging frustratedly at the button. "Take them off."
Spencer obliged, helpless to her commands as he sat back on his heels, easily undoing the pesky button that was keeping her from what she wanted. She went to sit up to help with his zipper, but in her rush to get his pants off, she didn't realize just how close his knee was to the edge of the cushion.
The motion knocked his knee outwards, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as he instinctively reached out for her to steady himself, but it was too late.
A startled squeal slipped from Y/N as they both tumbled to the floor, landing with a muted thud on the plush carpet. Spencer’s hands shot to her waist, his eyes wide as he glanced up at her, now sprawled on top of him, her laughter filling the air at their unexpected fall. He joined her, chuckling loudly.
They were a perfect chaos—rumpled clothes, kiss-swollen lips, tangled hair, and eyes full of love. But neither of them minded, because they finally had what they’d both been yearning for all this time: each other.
The fall did little to curb their desire for each other. Y/N ducked her head, pressing her lips to Spencer's with renewed vigor as her hands slipped underneath his sweater. She giggled as he squirmed underneath her touch.
"You're such a wiggle worm!" Y/N huffed, pulling back just enough to let the words slip free into the air between them as she lifted the sweater up and over his head.
Spencer scoffed, his own hands slipping beneath the waistband of her yoga pants and shoving them down her legs. "I can't help that your hands feel like ice!"
A quiet hiss left her lips at the feeling of his equally cold hands brushing against the skin of her thighs. She wriggled on top of him, kicking off the remaining fabric that had wrapped around her feet.
"So do yours, but you don't see me acting like a baby about it!"
"Oh, I'll show you a baby—"
Y/N cackled as Spencer rolled them over, hovering above her once more with a cheeky grin and soft chuckles. He bombarded her with kisses all over her face and collarbones, ignoring her hands swatting at him playfully as he continued his attack. Soon his pants joined the growing pile of clothes near the entertainment center, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room as the final scenes of the forgotten movie played out. His hands made swift work of removing her bra, leaving her lying underneath him in only her lacy underwear.
Their laughter died out as they stared into each other's eyes, the weight of what was about to change—what had already changed—settling over them. But fear didn’t touch them. There was no reason for it. This was always meant to be; written in the stars, woven into their destiny long before they existed.
Spencer closed the gap between them, kissing Y/N tenderly as he lowered himself just enough for their bare chests to press together and their hips to align perfectly. A sigh escaped her at the feeling of his hardened cock grinding against her, the thin fabric of his boxers and her soaked panties doing little to conceal what lay beneath.
Neither of them had ever pictured their first time unfolding on the living room floor, but in a way, it made the moment even more unforgettable. It was a testament to how desperately they wanted each other—so much that they’d choose the roughness of the carpet and rug burns over the luxury of her bed to avoid the few minutes apart it would take to get to her room.
"You're sure you want this?"
Spencer broke the kiss, his eyes tracing hers for any trace of hesitation or doubt. Y/N's lips curved into a faint smile as she reached up to caress his face. Her thumb stroked the skin of his cheekbone as she nodded.
"More than anything."
The look in her eyes told him that she was being completely honest. That was all the confirmation he needed. His shaky hands found the edges of the lace adorning her hips, inching his body down as he tugged the soaked-through fabric down her legs.
Y/N's face scrunched in confusion as Spencer moved lower, her brows furrowing as he pressed a kiss to her knee. "What are you-"
Her words cut off with a sharp moan as Spencer latched his mouth to her clit, her head tipping back against the floor as her hands buried themselves into his disheveled strands. Her back arched as her legs spread instinctively, making room for him as he began to devour her. He shifted, grabbing ahold of her thighs and placing them over his shoulders as his tongue alternated between teasing kitten licks and long, drawn-out laps up and down her pussy.
Y/N struggled to open her eyes, peering down at him as pleasure began to flood her veins. The sight of his hands—those beautiful goddamned hands that had inadvertently caused this to happen— gripping her thighs hard enough to leave bruises had her mouth hanging open, small whimpers and moans flowing freely into the open space.
"You taste exquisite, sweetheart. So, so good," Spencer mumbled against her slick skin before sucking her clit into his mouth gently.
Y/N cried out, writhing underneath him as the pleasure in her lower stomach began to build rapidly. A loud groan wrenched itself from her throat as Spencer grabbed her hips, pinning them to the ground as he continued to ravage her in a way that rendered her useless.
"You can take it, pretty girl," Spencer cooed, placing a kiss on her clit before one of his hands left her hip to trace her folds. "Cum for me so I can fuck you so good you'll never want anyone else again."
Who the fuck taught him how to talk like that?
Y/N couldn’t speak to tell him that she’d never want anyone else anyways; that he was etched into her very soul, and every part of her would forever long for his touch and his touch alone. She cried out as his middle finger prodded at her entrance before slipping inside, her orgasm so close she could almost taste it.
Spencer moaned against her from how little resistance her walls had against the intrusion, immediately adding his ring finger to the mix. He thrusted them into her hard, curling the lithe digits in search of that rough patch of skin that would give him what he wanted. It took all of three strokes before he found it, his mouth forming a smirk as she gripped his hair and yanked, grinding her hips up into his mouth as she thrashed beneath him.
"Spence! Fuck, I-I'm cumming—"
Y/N barely uttered the words before her climax seized her, her toes curling as her vision whitened and the world shattered around her. She could vaguely register Spencer's sweet voice coaxing her through it, his forehead now pressed to hers as his fingers continued to gently thrust into her through the aftershocks. Only when she was trembling and weakly shoving at his wrist did he finally stop his movements, his lips meeting hers in a series of soft kisses as her chest heaved beneath him.
"Yeah?" He murmured with a smug grin, pulling back to smooth her hair away from her damp face with his clean hand as she stared up at him in bewilderment.
Spencer Reid had just caused her to cum harder than she ever had in her life. Spencer—the same Spencer that was too shy to look her in the eyes for a solid month after first meeting her— just made her cum so hard she almost blacked out. She understood why he was a man of magic now... and it had nothing to do with the novelty tricks he was always showing off.
"Yeah," Y/N whispered in response, still reeling from her orgasm.
If that was the type of climax she could reach simply from his tongue and fingers, she was convinced that she'd never actually experienced one with anyone else.
"Do you want to stop there? Or do you want to keep going?"
Spencer's voice was soft as he stared at the gorgeous woman beneath him. He found it ironic that he was already kneeling between her thighs because that had now become his place of worship. His redemption came in the form of her essence, dripping from his fingers as they rested against her hip. He'd never need anything else as long as he had her.
"Keep going. I want to keep going," Y/N pleaded softly, her hands reaching for his boxers. "Just—c'mere. Wanna taste you before you fuck me brainless. Please?"
A pitiful whine left Spencer’s lips as he felt his composure crack slightly. He wasn’t prepared for her to practically beg to suck his cock. He found himself nodding mindlessly, his hands going to help her strip him of his boxers before he remembered the mess still clinging to his fingers.
“Clean these for me first, sweet girl. Then you can.”
Spencer brought his fingers up to her lips, watching in amazement as she obeyed without a fuss. She even went as far as moaning while she licked his fingers clean of her, holding his gaze while she did. Y/N knew what she did to him. She knew he was just as affected by her as she was him. And she reveled in it.
Once he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them from her mouth before ridding himself of the last shred of fabric between them. The second that Spencer was bare before her, she pounced. Her hands pushed at his chest, urging him to lie back as she crawled on top of him.
“You’re so pretty, Spence,” Y/N breathed dazedly, pecking his lips before trailing her kisses down his chest. “God… look at you.”
Spencer flushed bright red while she continued to murmur her praises as she gripped the base of him, his cock twitching in her hand.
He had never been particularly confident—growing up as a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school had stripped him of any sense of self-worth before it had a chance to take root. Unlike Morgan, he didn’t have the muscles or the easy charm with women. He could count the number of sexual encounters he’d had on one hand. His dates rarely progressed beyond the first, driven away by his nervous rambling and the unpredictable demands of his job.
The only way Spencer even knew how to make Y/N feel so good was because he had studied every piece of material he could find on the intricacies of female anatomy and sexual pleasure on the off chance one of his dates would blossom into something more than an uncomfortable hook-up and dash situation. It also helped that he’d pined after her since he’d known her, that longing translating into a dire need to make her feel the best she ever had because that’s what she deserved. She deserved to feel pleasure in its purest form, to feel cherished and worshipped because that’s how precious she was to him.
And in this moment, as she gazed at him with the kind of reverence that made it seem as though he was the center of her universe, Spencer believed that maybe, just maybe, he deserved to feel that way too.
His fingers grasped helplessly at the carpet beneath him as her beautiful lips wrapped around the flushed head of his arousal, a muffled curse falling into the air as she swirled her tongue around him. Y/N smirked around her mouthful, her eyes glinting with amusement as she inhaled through her nose and pushed lower, taking him into the back of her throat. The gag that she emitted from the motion had his hips jerking up, a flurry of apologies spewing from his mouth.
Instead of responding verbally, she simply grabbed his hands and guided them to her hair, encouraging him to take hold and move her as he pleased. Once he threaded his hands through her hair, she continued. Her own hands planted firmly on his thighs as she began to bob her head around what she could fit, a soft hum vibrating around his length as her eyes fluttered shut.
Spencer was speechless— absolutely floored as he stared slack-jawed at the woman moaning around his cock like she was the one receiving pleasure from it. He gave an experimental tug of her hair, his head falling back with a thunk as she moaned louder and moved faster. It was as though she were unraveling his very soul with her tongue, hurtling him towards an orgasm he didn’t want to have just yet.
“Y-Y/N wait I— ngh!” Spencer groaned, his grip on her hair tightening unintentionally as he tried to pull her off of him. “I won’t be able to fuck you if you make me cum down your throat, pretty girl. P-please—“
Y/N whined in protest but finally eased herself off of his cock, a trail of spit bridging her lower lip to the head of him as she stared up at him with watery eyes and swollen lips.
Spencer felt delirious as he took in the sight. It was something he’d dreamed about (albeit guiltily) for years, and having the real thing in front of him was infinitely better than anything his subconscious had conjured up during those restless nights. She was a vision; a work of art that deserved to have a museum dedicated to her and her alone.
“Oh, don’t pout. Unless you don’t want to be fucked anymore?” Spencer chuckled breathlessly, arching a brow as she moved to straddle him. His hands found their way to her waist, a shudder running down his spine as she settled over him.
“If you won’t fuck me… I have a pretty nice dildo in my bedside drawer that should do the trick,” Y/N hummed coyly, dragging her heat across the length of him with a soft sigh.
Spencer’s eyes darkened at that, his grip on her hips tightening to put a halt to her subtle movements.
“Yeah? You think it’d make you feel better than I could?”
Y/N swallowed hard, the aching between her legs starting to override her logical thinking. She knew the answer he was looking for; the answer that would give her exactly what she wanted. But she decided to be a smartass instead.
“Maybe,” She answered with a shrug, nibbling at her lower lip as she tried to fight against his hold to get the friction she craved.
“Go get it then.”
Spencer leaned forward, his nose brushing hers as she sat in his lap, a challenge in his gaze. He knew she wouldn’t—she was getting restless, just like him. But if this was the game she wanted to play, he was determined to win.
Panic spread across Y/N’s face at the cold, indifferent look in his eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her frown betraying the sinking realization of the hole she’d dug for herself. They were both ridiculously competitive, so why she’d started this—rather than just admitting how badly she wanted him buried inside her—was beyond her.
“I was kidding,” Y/N huffed, tilting forward in an attempt to capture his lips.
Spencer leaned back, keeping his lips just out of reach. He shook his head, smirking softly. “Nope. Either go get it, or say you’re sorry.”
Y/N hesitated, frowning as she weighed her options. She wanted him so badly it hurt. But pride was a hell of a thing. She knew he wouldn’t back down. Normally, she wouldn’t either. But his cock was pressed so deliciously against her clit that she decided it would be more than worth it to lose just this once.
“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, barely audible.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
Spencer’s taunting made her groan in frustration before she sighed and tried again.
“I said I’m sorry—“
He shifted them so that his back was against the couch, her knees on both sides of his hips digging into the carpet hard enough that he was certain it would sting once they started. He’d make sure to take care of her afterward, though. He gazed up at her with adoration, thoroughly enjoying how needy she'd become. Her breath hitched as he adjusted his hips, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.
“One more time, hm?” Spencer coaxed, his hands now rubbing up and down her sides but still holding her tight enough that she couldn't rock against him. If he was honest, his resolve had crumbled as quickly as hers, but he couldn’t help from teasing her for just a little longer.
“I’m sorry!” Y/N cried out, her forehead pressing against his as she whimpered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Spencer finally pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling back, his lips brushing against hers as he crooned. “Good girl, baby. Thank you.”
Hearing the praise fall so easily from his mouth had Y/N canting her hips down eagerly, willing to do whatever he wanted just so she could hear his sweet words over and over again. Her determination didn’t waver, her hips pushing down insistently. Spencer’s hold on her waist faltered, and for a brief moment, gravity claimed its victory.
A startled gasp slipped from her lips as the tip of his cock pushed into her, followed by a guttural moan that had Spencer's ears ringing as he cursed loudly. She had been so used to his hold that she wasn't prepared to support herself, his hands having barely caught her from dropping completely. He immediately yanked her up, the cool air against his skin a shock after having felt her warmth for the first time.
“God—fuck!" Spencer groaned as his head tipped back against the couch cushions, straining against every instinct begging him to just drive into her and utilizing every muscle in his body to keep her suspended as she wriggled impatiently.
"Baby... how are you— how are you wanting to do this?” Spencer whispered, swallowing before he continued. “I’m pretty sure I have a condom in my wallet, but I… um. I’m clean...”
Their hearts pounded in their chests as his words lingered in the air, the only sounds in the room being the repeated menu options from the forgotten movie and the ragged rhythm of their breaths.
Y/N meweled, reaching down to realign him with her entrance. “I’m clean and on birth control… Can we...? Like this? Please—“
“Yes.”
Y/N chuckled at his blunt response, though she was just as desperate to feel him after having the faintest taste of what he felt inside her. Her lips found his for a chaste kiss before she finally began to lower herself onto his cock, this time without his resistance.
Her laughter died in her throat, morphing into a choked whimper from the stretch of him. Even with how aroused she was, trying to make him fit was a struggle. Spencer was easily the biggest out of anyone she’d ever been with— a feat she hadn't quite realized until she was pausing halfway down his cock with a stuttered moan, slowly circling her hips in an attempt to adjust to the sensation.
Spencer was convinced he'd somehow died and ascended to paradise as he gazed up at the angelic woman hovering above him, enthralled by watching her fight to take the full length of him into her depths. His hands massaged up and down her trembling thighs, hoping to help her relax enough to take the rest of him without it hurting. Hums of encouragement rumbled from his chest as he stared unblinking at her, the warm amber of his eyes almost consumed completely by his blown pupils. His thumb found her clit and rubbed small circles into it as her eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled sharply through her nose.
"That's it, sweet girl," He cooed, continuing his gentle ministrations as she whined from deep in her throat. "Just like that. You're taking me so well. My gorgeous girl."
There was a pleasant burn as Y/N gingerly lifted her hips, leaving only the head of him inside of her. The way her hardened nipples brushed against his bare chest had her shivering lightly, the touch sending small sparks of pleasure jolting through her. Soft whines spilled from her lips as Spencer moved his hands around to grip her ass, gently massaging the flesh as she raised up on her knees.
With a committed roll of her hips and a quiet grunt, Y/N finally took the rest of his length, their bodies now flush together as her head dropped into the crook of his neck. The whorish moan Spencer released into her ear as he bottomed out had her clenching around him, a dire need to cause more of those sinful noises prompting her hips to begin moving. The raw stinging against her knees as she began to ride him in earnest only spurred her on, her nails digging into his shoulders as her head lolled back.
"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, resting her forehead against his as she panted out his name again and again, chanting it as though it were a mantra.
Spencer shushed her, understanding exactly what she couldn't manage to vocalize. He nodded against her as their bodies moved in tandem. "I know, baby. I know. You feel divine. My sweet angel." He continued to murmur out his praises as his head rested back on the edge of the couch cushion, small fingerprint-shaped bruises marking her skin as he clung to her.
Her hips began to falter as exhaustion started to settle into her bones from the vigorous pace she'd set, her second orgasm brewing in the pit of her stomach as though it were a wicked thunderstorm in waiting, ready to roll in and wreak havoc on her entire body at any minute. The slick sounds of their bodies connecting over and over paired with the symphony of heady moans and whimpers spilling between them—it was all driving her closer and closer to ecstasy.
Spencer noticed the fumble in her movements, his brows pinched together as he fought to keep his own climax at bay so he could enjoy the sensation of being wrapped up in her walls for a while longer. But he couldn't let his pretty girl do all of the work, could he? That would be cruel.
He planted his feet into the ground, beginning to pound into her from below. A satisfied smirk adorned his face as Y/N cried out, her head falling into the crook of his neck once more as she began to babble incoherently against his skin. The pace he set was wild and unrestrained, the angle allowing him to drive into her g-spot repeatedly.
"Take it, take it, take it—" Spencer hissed through clenched teeth before he latched his mouth onto her right nipple, sucking at the bud and swirling his tongue around it.
Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, hanging on tightly as Spencer ravaged her. Her mouth hung open as moan after moan wrenched itself from her core and embedded into his damp skin. The pleasure searing through her veins was consuming her, burning her from the inside out. She was so close—
The catalyst for her orgasm came in the form of Spencer's hands slipping down her ass and underneath her thighs so that the tips of his fingers were brushing against where they were connected with each thrust. All it took was that one simple touch for the tension in her body to snap, her teeth digging into his shoulder as she tried to muffle her screams while her walls pulsed around him violently. Her eyes squeezed shut as she wailed his name loudly, not caring if any of her neighbors heard them at this point. She wanted the world to know exactly who was making her feel this good.
Spencer toppled them over onto the ground as she came around him, pinning her to the carpet and rutting into her fervently. Something akin to a sob fell from his lips before he abruptly pulled out, jerking his cock in quick strokes before he was spurting his cum across her stomach and tits with a cry of her name.
He crumpled to the ground beside her, pulling her into his side before he slung an arm over his face. Their chests heaved as they came down from their highs, both of them completely spent after such depraved lovemaking. His free hand stroked up and down her slick skin as she rested her head on his chest, calming the tremors wracking her body as they caught their breath.
Once Spencer regained feeling in his legs, he scooped Y/N from the floor and into his arms, hauling her off toward her bathroom as giggles bubbled from her lips at his surprising show of strength. Y/N watched with pure fondness as he started the shower, her heart swelling as he glanced back at her with a tired grin. When the water was warm enough, he held her hand as he helped her step in, following behind her with a hand wrapped around her waist to hold her steady.
After a shower spent lost in love-struck gazes, soapy caresses, and slow, tender kisses against the tiles, they ended up wrapped in each other's arms in her bed. It was only midday, but it was Saturday—so why not indulge in a nap? They had more than earned it after their (failed) movie marathon.
"Y'know," Y/N started, her voice low as fatigue began to cloud her mind. "You really do have massive hands." She took his hand, which had been resting loosely between them, lifting it to align with hers for comparison. His hand was nearly twice the size of hers, and the sight made her smile with amusement.
Spencer snorted, his nose scrunching as he laughed quietly at her observation.
"Well, yeah... I am 6'1", sweetheart. It would be abnormal if I didn't have massive hands," He stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, you love them. Really love them," He added with a sleepy smirk.
Y/N's face burned as she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. It isn't my fault you have hands that were crafted by Michelangelo himself," She murmured defensively.
Spencer pulled her closer, brushing a kiss against her forehead, then her nose, her cheeks, and finally, her lips.
"You know I'm just teasing you. Did you know that—"
As Spencer began to prattle on about the variations and degrees of hand kinks and fetishes, Y/N's mind drifted back to the picture that had unknowingly set everything in motion. She couldn’t help but thank that raised crack in the sidewalk for pushing her old-fashioned boyfriend (that still felt so surreal to say) to embrace modern technology—because without it, she might have spent even more time blind to the fact that she was utterly, hopelessly in love with the man lying before her.
And as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, Spencer felt a deep sense of gratitude for finally being able to love the beautiful woman in his arms the way he’d always dreamed of.
Continued A/N's: I felt evil for my first (published) fic being so angsty so I decided to write this as a formal apology LMAO. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. Please tell me what you think and let me know if you'd like to see a sequel for this as well! :) K <3
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x bau!reader#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#best friends to lovers#two idiots in love
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Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever
Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.
Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”
I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon
Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T
Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler
gif by @a7estrellas
→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |
OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY
The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.
You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.
“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.
“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.
He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.
“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”
The day unfolded in bursts of joy.
Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.
Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.
Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”
“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.
You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”
Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”
“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.
Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.
“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.
“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.
OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET
The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.
Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.
“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.
Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.
You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.
“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.
Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”
Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”
Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”
“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.
Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”
“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”
“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”
Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”
“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.
Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”
You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”
Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.
“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”
“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.
“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.
You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.
“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”
“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”
Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”
“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.
Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.
Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”
Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”
“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.
“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”
“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.
The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.
You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.
THE NEXT DAY
OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.
Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.
His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”
“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.
“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.
It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.
The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.
“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.
Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”
Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.
Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”
Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”
You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”
Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”
“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.
Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”
Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”
“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.
“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”
He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”
The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”
Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”
You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”
“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”
Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”
“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”
Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”
Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”
Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”
You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.
OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING
The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.
Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.
“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.
Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.
You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”
“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”
Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.
He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”
“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.
“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.
“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.
Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.
“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.
Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”
“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.
The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.
“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.
“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.
“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.
As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.
“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”
“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.
“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”
“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.
Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”
“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”
Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.
“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.
The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.
As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.
When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.
You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.
Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him.
L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING
The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions.
“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”
You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”
“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”
And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more.
“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.
“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go.
“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”
Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.
“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”
Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.
“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home.
Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”
You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”
He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”
There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close.
This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up.
“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”
You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”
“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”
His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”
Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”
You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.
Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave.
Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.
“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.
“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.
You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.
“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.
Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”
You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.
He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”
“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”
His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.
“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.
When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.
“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.
“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.
The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.
The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.
A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.
“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.
Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.
“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.
“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.
Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.
Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.
Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.
“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”
Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”
“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.
He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”
You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”
Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”
You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”
Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.
You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”
“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”
You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”
“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”
Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”
Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”
The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.
Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”
Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”
You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.
The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.
Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.
In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.
#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x f!reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal art#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#joel miller x reader#gladiator#gladiator 2#paul mescal#real people fiction#marcus acacius#general marcus acacius#gladiator ii#pedrohub#pedro pascal x reader masterlist#pedro pascal masterlist#marcus acacius x reader
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Like Lovers Do
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: Bored with the RPD's fundraising banquet, you pull Leon away to have some fun in a storage closet.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, friends with benefits
word count: 2.1k
a/n: the chris and leon drabble is next i swear. i just change my mind like every five seconds lmao. i hope everyone enjoys :) as always, i appreciate all the reblogs and comments <3
Applause sounds throughout the banquet hall as Leon flashes his awkward smile. He holds up the small, cheap trophy he’d won, the words Rookie of the Year displayed on the plaque at the base. He’s quick to walk away from the microphone and exit the stage, returning to his seat next to you. Your boss takes his place, but your attention is consumed by him.
“Wow. I see how it is. Don’t even mention me in your speech for your prestigious award,” you say in a hushed voice, a grin spreading across your features.
His cheeks tinge pink as his own smile graces your vision. “I did mention you. I said my partner,” he responds, “Plus, don’t act like you really care about these things.”
You roll your eyes playfully. It was true. You didn’t care about the little superlatives the department gave out for entertainment at the annual fundraising banquet. But that wouldn’t stop you from complaining about your loss to Leon and his perceived lack of appreciation for you.
“I do care actually. And I guess that’s true, but it wasn’t very specific,” you say, “If I’d won, I would have mentioned you.”
Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes as he shakes his head. “My sincerest apologies,” he says, connecting his eyes with yours.
Just seeing him like this was getting you all worked up. He looked as handsome as you’d ever seen him in his suit. You’d also been wanting to ditch this thing for a while now. You’d shown up and said hi to everyone as you were expected to do. Now you’d grown tired of watching your colleagues galavant around with their dates and swap stories from the job.
“Hmmm… well you know. I think I have a way you could make it up to me,” you say, keeping your voice quiet to not catch the attention of anyone sitting near you.
Leon raises an eyebrow, but of course, he knew exactly what you meant. You both were insatiable for one another. That small lilt in your voice alone clued him in. You’d almost conditioned him to pop a boner when he heard it.
“Do you?” he teases back.
“Mhm,” you nod, rubbing your hand up and down his thigh beneath the table, “Follow me in a couple minutes.”
You rise from your seat. You make sure to be quiet and not draw any attention to yourself, but your hands still rest on your stomach, giving the appearance that you’re suffering some sort of sudden illness. You walk away from the tables and over to the hallway doors, the points of your heels softly clicking against the ground as you go.
Once you’re out, you turn back and watch Leon through the little slit of a window in the door. You see him wait for a few minutes and then look around as if he’s concerned for where you’ve gone. Then he rises in the same way you did and makes his way to the same set of doors.
As he opens them, a giggle bursts from your lips and you pull his body against your own. The two of you lean in for a few kisses. “Nice work, superstar. I’m sure the next thing you’ll be winning is an oscar,” you tease.
“Shut up,” he grumbles as that blush grows a little stronger. He nips at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss before you pull away to walk further down the hall.
The RPD held this event at this place every single year. It was the first for both you and Leon, both freshly graduated. You look around curiously at your surroundings as you head to another door near the ones you’d entered from. You notice the hallway lined with academy graduation photos. Upon closer examination, you spot yourself in the one hanging next to the new door
“Aww, we look so young here,” you coo, looking at the framed picture of your and Leon’s class.
A chuckle comes from over your shoulder before you feel him kissing up your neck. “It was only a year ago,” he mumbles.
“Yeah, but you have such a baby face here,” you tease.
“What can I say? A year of working with you has really worn me down,” he replies.
He cracks open the door, and you see inside is just a storage closet. You pull him by the collar of his suit into the small space. He follows eagerly and pushes you up against the wall.
“I’m so sure, Mr. Rookie of the Year,” you taunt, catching him in another kiss.
Your hand slides into his hair, threading through the blonde locks as your lips move with his. Meanwhile, his palms coast up your side, feeling the smooth fabric of your party dress beneath his fingers. His foot knocks into your ankle, a small signal for you to spread your legs.
“Well it’s not so shocking when you consider that I only won because half the time I’m on the job, I’m cleaning up your messes,” he jokes between kisses.
“I think between the two of us, you’re the messy one,” you say back and turn around to deepen the kiss.
His left hand rises to your breast on the same side, squeezing the mound and drawing a tender sigh from you. His right slides down your thigh and lifts your leg by the crux of your knee. He grinds his growing bulge against your panties, a soft moan falling from his lips at the familiar sensation.
This was far from the first time the two of you had done this. It was far from the first time you’d done this with other people only a few rooms away. At work, you’d done it in the bathrooms, the locker room, the dark room, the storage room in the other wing of offices. You’d even done it in Leon’s cruiser once on a boring night. Sometimes it felt surprising you even managed to make it to a secluded place.
You weren’t even fully sure of what you and Leon were to each other. Neither of you had ever put a title on this dance you did. You both let yourselves run on pure lust without much care for fine details. If you were being honest, you were pretty sure you were in love with him. You’d had a crush on him since your first day in the academy. He’d had you hooked on him since the first time you slept together on the night of your graduation in a drunken hurricane of unfiltered desire.
In your heart, not much had changed since that night. The two of you are still wrapped up in a flurry of kisses as he slowly rocks against you, grunting quietly. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the feeling of your body around his. Lowering his head, he starts kissing your neck again. Your noises are the same volume as his, just a bit whinier.
“We gotta be quick,” you mumble against the side of his head. You drag your nose against his soft tendrils of hair. A shaky breath blows against the side of his head.
“Don’t worry about that, baby. You heard ‘em out there. I get things done fast and efficiently,” he teases as his lips unlatch from your neck.
The cocky expression on his face only got you hotter. You pull him into a more aggressive kiss, your noses mashing against one another. His breaths fan over your face as his hands tug your panties down to your knees. He then cups both of your legs behind the knees, folding you in half against the wall.
He pins you there with his own weight as he pulls himself out of his pants. His fingers fish a condom out of his pocket and tear the foil quickly before tossing it aside, leaving it for some poor person to find at a later date. You don’t think of that in the moment though. You’re more enraptured with how you can feel the heat of his tip nudging at the wetness between your legs even with the latex barrier between you.
“Put it in,” you whimper and squirm in his grasp. The teasing side of you was fading fast as need took over.
He grins with a mocking look in his eyes, but he obliges you. He slips it in and lets out a deep breath, savoring the way you squeeze around him.
“Think you should’ve won most desperate,” he teases, “Or maybe neediest little slut.”
You go to defend yourself, but all that comes out is a whine. The confident side of him rears its head. It was kind of funny to you how your dynamic would shift once he got you craving his cock. Another mewl escapes you as his hips retract and push forward again.
“What was that? You know I’m right. You couldn’t even wait to get back to your apartment,” he continues.
He begins pumping his hips for real, and all you can get out for a moment are broken whimpers. He fucked you just right, always did. He was blessed with a thick cock that rubbed up against your insides in a way that felt like heaven. Your legs clamp against his sides as your head tilts back against the wall. The thrum of the bass starts vibrating through the cement again, letting you know they had turned on the music again in the other room.
“Fuck Leon…” you breathe before crying out sharply as he rotates his hips to hit your sweet spot.
Your own hand flies to your mouth to cover it and muffle any other noises. He smiles at the sight and kisses your cheek, resting his forehead against your temple.
“That’s right, gotta keep quiet. If anyone walked by and heard, we’d both be getting fucked,” he says and continues rocking the both of your bodies as he thrusts into you.
You nod. Your other arm wraps around him tight to keep yourself supported. You’re starting to sweat, but you can feel that he is too. Fucking fully clothed probably wasn’t the smartest idea either of you had indulged in, but it felt too good for you too honestly care. Your hand slips down of your face as the pleasure takes over a bit more.
“Leon… fuck, I can’t…” you moan softly.
He guides your hand back to your lips before returning his own to your knee to keep you up. His fingers dig into your legs with a bruising grip and he thrusts quicker.
“Yeah? You gonna cum already, baby? That’s pretty fast. Maybe that’s another award you should win,” he pants.
“Shut up,” you mumble against your hand as your hips start involuntarily rolling against his.
Your breasts push up against his chest as your body writhes against the wall. He just keeps going, wanting to work you to the edge you were fast approaching. His shaft slides in and out over and over. You smile as your head spins with the pleasure.
“I feel it coming,” he whispers, “I feel you getting all tight. Just cum for me. Let it out.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You let the coil inside you snap and moan into the palm of your hand. You buck and bury your head in the crook of his neck. His eyes close, focusing everything he has on his own release. It doesn’t take much longer before he’s attempting to silence his groans against your flesh. His hips jump and his knees quiver for a moment.
He holds inside you for a moment longer, letting the both of you come down before you attempt acting normal again. When that time comes though, he carefully pulls out of you and helps you back onto your feet. Your legs are kind of wobbly, but you maintain your balance. You work on fixing your dress and hair as Leon gets rid of the condom and puts himself back together.
You reach down to pull your panties up, but he stops you, shaking his head and smiling at you.
“Give ‘em to me,” he says.
You stare at him for a moment, in some form of disbelief, but you go with it. You liked the idea just as much as he did. Letting them fall to the floor, you step out of them and then pick them up and place them in his hand. He shoves them into his pocket, smug smirk on his face the whole time.
He then pulls you by your waist for one more kiss. “C’mon, we should go back now. Don’t want anybody thinking we ran off.”
You laugh a little and nod. “We should just run off though,” you say.
“Only a couple more hours and we can. My place or yours, we can go back and replay that all night long,” he says before giving you a smack on the ass and following you back to the hall to return to the party of unknowing guests.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy smut#resident evil x reader#resident evil imagines#resident evil smut#resident evil x you#smut
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i want you to see (how you look to me) - billie eilish
synopsis: you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, billie, and you're unsure if she feels the same, choosing to keep your distance -- until one fateful night in the studio where your feelings finally boil over.
word count: 3,506
tags/warnings: angst if you squint, mostly fluffy, love confessions, mutual pining, best friends to lovers
author's note: GIFT FOR YOUUUU. sorry i took so long to write something LMAO. this was very quickly proofread at 3am. any mistakes are mine! hope you enjoy :) comments/tags/reblogs are always appreciated! (credit for the divider goes to @/cafekitsune)
In the dim light of your bedroom, you scrolled through your phone's photo gallery, feeling your heart constrict at all of the pictures you had with Billie. Some were taken directly after shows, some after particular interviews, and some during a random outing the two of you decided to go on. In many of the pictures, Billie left little to no personal space, her face squished against yours and her arms completely wrapped around you. You missed the times when Billie could touch you like that and it didn't set you aflame – when it didn't make your head spin as you took in her perfume and felt her soft body underneath your hands, her ocean eyes bright and full of mirth as she looked at you.
There was no denying that there was some distance between you and Billie now. And you hated it.
You weren't sure when it happened; when you first started feeling those stupid butterflies around her. When even just the sound of her laugh made your heart soar. If somebody asked you to pinpoint the exact moment you started falling in love with your best friend, you wouldn't be able to – it was all so fuzzy and frankly you didn't think it could be attributed to a single moment anyway. It might have been that one night she slept over and you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder as she sung you to sleep. Or the time the two of you were at her place, making some vegan recipe together, playing loud music and using spoons and forks as microphones, performing for no one but yourselves and giggling profusely at Billie giving you the performance of a lifetime in the comfort of her own kitchen. Or perhaps it was the time she comforted you all night after a breakup, holding you closely and never letting go, her ring-clad hands petting you gently, as if you were made of glass.
Your heart had always belonged to Billie, long before you truly understood your feelings. And now that they were more apparent to you than ever, you simply didn't know what to do.
You knew Bille loved you just as much as you loved her. But did she feel the same fire within her whenever your hands brushed together? Did she feel those same butterflies whenever you laughed at a dumb joke or gave her a bright smile? You couldn't bear even just the thought of pouring your heart out to this woman only for the feeling to not be mutual.
You glanced at the time on your phone screen. It was late. You should've been sleeping but you were just riddled with anxiety instead, too busy imagining up a million hypothetical situations in which you would dramatically confess your feelings. You wish you had the same confidence you had in your daydreams in your real life.
You sighed, scrolling to the very last thing you had in your gallery. It was the most recent video of you and Billie, taken only a few weeks ago. The both of you were in Billie's living room. You couldn't stop the smile that tugged the corners of your lips when Billie came into view as you secretly recorded her in all of her casual glory. Her long hair was down, falling in front of her face in a way that made the breath leave your lungs. She was in an oversized t-shirt, wearing a pair of simple black shorts. She was very focused; her lips forming a pout as she stared down at the notebook in her lap, a pencil in hand.
What started as a small grin evolved into a wide, lovesick smile as you watched Billie look at the camera in the video, finally having caught on to you filming her.
“What the hell are you doing?” Past Billie had asked, a smirk slowly appearing on her face as she eyed you suspiciously. You heard yourself giggle, suddenly aiming your phone camera away from her and poorly trying to appear innocent.
“Nothing.”
“You are a fucking liar,” Billie said playfully, barely able to get the words out through her own series of chuckles.
“I'm not!” Past you exclaimed. Billie just shook her head, scrambling over to you to grab your phone, the both of you erupting into whole-hearted laughter. The last blurry frame of the video was of Billie's smiling face looking at you. You admired her perfect teeth and lips, the shape of her nose, and those damn ocean eyes, far more beautiful than any body of water you'd ever seen.
That familiar fluttery feeling returned to your stomach again.
You shut off your phone and quickly placed it on your bedside table. You rolled over in your bed, still thinking of that video. You were beginning to feel something in your chest. Your heart felt like it was constricting again. You tried to ignore, instead attempting to shift the focus of your thoughts on the weight of your blanket encompassing you, or the gentle sound of whatever random sitcom you had playing on your television for background noise; but your mind always wandered back to Billie. Her smile, her laugh, her touch.
You were deeply, madly in love with Billie Eilish, your best friend, and it was starting to drive you insane. This was not a crush, no, it was more than a crush – it was like a craving, a desire so strong it entirely consumed you.
You were so fucked.
You closed your eyes, desperately just wanting to sleep. You weren't even necessarily physically tired. Just tired of your brain going a thousand miles a minute and constantly thinking about her.
After a few long minutes of battling complete and utter restlessness, you had mentally exhausted yourself enough to the point where you were finally starting to drift off – until you heard your phone go off, which abruptly pulled you away from the brink of sleep. Normally, you would ignore it, but you recognized that notification tone. It was a tone that you specifically gave to Billie, and whenever she texted, you had to answer.
You opened your messaging app, squinting a bit at the brightness of your screen in the dark room.
heyyyy u up
i'm in the studio by myself
feeling lonely as hell
You heard the messages in her voice. You found yourself smiling again, imagining her in her little swivel chair, maybe playing a melody on the piano or strumming a tune on the guitar.
Without wasting a second, you replied.
you: of course i'm up
you: god you can't do anything without me huh?
You chuckled to yourself, watching those three little dots disappear and reappear.
billie: you are absolutely correct
billie: you just really inspire me what can i say
billie: i'm not even joking you really do
You ignored the warmth in your cheeks at her words, opting to play around some more.
you: ew
you: cheesy ass
To that, Billie replied almost instantly:
billie: shut your mouth
billie: ARE YOU COMINGGG
bille: seriously tho i know it's late but we haven't hung out in a while and i kinda miss youuuu or whateverrrr
You didn't respond right away, staring up at your plain white ceiling, releasing a sigh. Your smile faltered a bit.
She missed you. And you missed her. And even though being around her made you feel like you were gonna lose your mind, she didn't deserve to be pushed away.
“You are going to get over your feelings, starting now.” you said to yourself encouragingly, getting out of your bed to meet Billie at her place. You finally threw her a reply back.
you: i'm omw :))))))
______
You didn't knock when you finally arrived since you had the key, but you did make your presence known.
“Bil,” you shouted out. You didn't get a response, but you shrugged it off. She was probably deeply concentrated on whatever lyric or melody she was trying to create. You made your way to the studio, feeling your heart race inside of your chest. As you walked down the stairs and down a hallway, getting closer to the studio door, you felt more and more anxious.
You were going to open the door, your hand resting on the doorknob, but you froze when you heard the soft sound of humming. You leaned in closer, honing in on the gentle sound of Billie's voice, muffled and just barely audible.
“I want you to stay… til I'm in the…” She trailed off. You heard her let out a heavy sigh. That’s when you decided to make your presence known.
You slowly opened the door, quietly enough that Billie hadn’t even turned around in her chair, looking up at the large television screen in front of her, messing around with some music production software that you could never understand. You continued to stand in the doorway, watching as Billie made some small edits within the current song she seemed to be working on. She hit play after making some miniscule changes, the unfinished song softly playing out of the large speakers. As soon as the instrumental filled the room, you felt chills on every inch of your body; it sounded beautiful despite the fact that it wasn’t even done. You’d never get over how lucky you were to be able to hear the early versions of Billie’s songs – it was like being let into a secret world, and it made you feel special that you, alongside her family, got to witness every step of the process.
Eventually, the short snippet of the song had stopped, and Billie leaned back in her seat. Just from her posture you could tell that she seemed defeated, like something about the song just wasn’t right to her. She began humming again, mumbling out some lyrics here and there. You found yourself grinning as you admired Billie in her element, but then you remembered that you still hadn’t announced your presence and that you were just creepily ogling at her from the doorway. You audibly chuckled at yourself which, of course, finally grabbed Billie’s attention.
She spun around in her chair, seemingly startled at first before she realized it was you.
“Jesus Christ,” she started, her adorable laugh filling the quiet studio. “Did you just get here?”
You shook your head, heading over to the couch and making yourself comfortable. “I was standing there for a good few minutes.” You replied with a grin.
“Don't ever do that again – my heart fell into my ass.” She exclaimed, and you let out a loud cackle at that. You grabbed one of the throw pillows next to you and held it in your arms, reclining back into the familiar cushions.
“Okay, won't happen again. Maybe. No promises.” You joked, to which Bille just rolled her eyes playfully.
“Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?” You asked curiously, your eyes going back to the music software she had on the screen.
“The album, obviously.” Billie said with a smirk. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, not being able to fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
“Shut up,” you said with mirth. “Which track?”
“It's called Birds of a Feather, it's track 4. It's… pretty shit, right now.”
Your eyes widened in complete and utter bewilderment, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.
“Billie, what? I just heard the little snippet you played and it sounded incredible.”
“You say everything I make sounds incredible.”
“Because it's true.” You replied sincerely. To that, Billie gave you a gentle smile, looking down at her lap as if shy at the sudden praise. You felt the sensation of warmth throughout your body at just how endearing she was.
“All you do is gas me up.” Billie replied through a series of chuckles.
“Of course I'm gonna gas up my amazingly talented super star best friend,” You responded. “But… can I ask why you think it's bad?”
Billie sighed, leaning back in her chair again, twiddling her thumbs. “It's just… the lyrics are giving me a hard time. And the instrumental is missing something but I don't know what it is.”
“Can I read the lyrics?” You asked.
At that, Billie looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. She seemed hesitant, which was definitely unusual–she always let you read her lyrics and never felt shy about sharing stuff with you.
“Yeah, go ahead.” Bille said after a few long seconds of pondering, but you could still hear the uncertainty in her voice. Curious, your brows furrowed.
“Bil, I understand if it's something you don't wanna share with me yet–”
“No, please,” she said, quickly handing you her journal, already having opened it to the pages that contained the lyrics in question. “You can read it.”
You glanced at her expression one more time as you took the journal, and noticed that this time – she was holding back a smile, biting her bottom lip.
You were equal parts confused and eager to see what Billie seemed a little hesitant to share. You silently began reading what she had written, taking in her adorable, albeit messy handwriting. There were all kinds of scribbles on the page, certain words were crossed out. It was fascinating to you to see her thought process on the page. You loved just how deeply she thought about every word, every sentence.
Eventually, you stopped admiring her crooked letters and side notes and finally began analyzing the lyrics themselves – and when you did, you honestly wanted to cry at how lovely they were.
I want you to stay
Till I'm in the grave
Till I rot away, dead and buried
Till I'm in the casket you carry
If you go, I'm going too
‘Cause it was always you
And if I'm turning blue
Please don't save me
Nothing left to lose
Without my baby
“Billie, these are…” you paused, searching for the right words. “These are so sweet.” You said with a smile, meeting her warm blue eyes that were still trained on your face.
“Thanks.” She replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
As you read some more, a question had crossed your mind. Your eyes trailed off the page as you internally debated with yourself whether or not you should even ask because you were little afraid of what the answer would be.
It was clear to you these lyrics were about someone– they had to be. And the very thought of this song being about someone else in Billie's life made you feel as if there was a heavy weight in your stomach. For a second, you foolishly thought that you'd be able to overcome the feelings you had for Billie. All it took was imagining her with someone else that made those feelings rush back all at once.
You must've been quiet for longer than intended, because Billie spoke up. “Are they actually terrible? Do you hate them and you're trying to figure out how to break it to me?” Billie asked, that playful tone creeping back into her voice.
You chuckled. “They are far from terrible, Bil, it's just…”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.
“I was just wondering… who's it about?” You asked, feeling unreasonably nervous about her response. You don't even know why, because you had long accepted that there was a possibility she didn't like you like that. You were prepared to be heartbroken – but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt any less.
But all Billie did was just… laugh.
“Guess.” She said, crossing her arms.
Oh, God. So there is someone else, you thought.
With a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, you said, “How the hell am I supposed to guess? But I'm happy for you, regardless.” You said, trying to be lighthearted, but your voice dropped a bit, possibly revealing your true feelings.
“Okay, do you want a hint?”
You stared at her incredulously. “You seriously want me to guess?”
“Do you want a hint or no?” Billie asked again, ignoring your question. She was smiling widely now, and you were still feeling that pang of sadness that you couldn't quite shake, but you continued to play along anyway.
“Sure. I'll take a hint.” You said.
“Okay,” Billie started. “She's my best friend in the entire world.”
“You have a lot of best friends-”
“Girl, let me finish.” Billie said with a laugh. “She's my best friend in the entire world who's known me my entire life. She's come with me to almost every show, every interview, and has supported me through everything.”
Billie had come a little closer to you now, her tone becoming more sincere with every word.
“When I'm lonely, she comes and visits me in the studio, even when it's ridiculously late. And she always compliments me and never lets me feel bad about anything I make.”
Slowly, but surely, you were beginning to realize something. Her descriptions were becoming more and more specific. Were you being delusional?
“Billie, I… what are you saying?” You asked. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, hard enough you were sure they'd be bruised.
“Still don't know?” She asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.
You shook your head.
“Okay, I'll just tell you then.”
Billie gently cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch almost instantly. She was close enough that you could feel her breath on your lips.
“She's right in front of me.” She said with a grin.
You couldn't even process the sentence that just came out of her mouth, frozen in shock and disbelief.
“This song is about me?” You asked quietly, your voice breaking slightly. You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, all of the emotion brewing within you threatening to spill.
“Do you remember the last time we hung out and you were filming me writing? I was writing this. I was writing this and thinking about you and how much I love you. I realized it as I was just… sitting there. You were laughing at some dumb meme on your phone and I just remember thinking how much I wanted you all to myself.”
You didn't realize you were crying until Billie had wiped away a tear.
“Hey, hey,” Billie said ever so softly, opting to hold both of your hands now. “Why are you crying?”
You laughed a bit through the tears, sniffling a few times before answering. “Because I… can't believe you felt this way the whole fucking time. I was going crazy, Billie.”
Billie let out a loud laugh of her own. It was your favorite sound in the world.
“Sorry. Honestly, I was trying to figure out my own feelings and how to tell you.”
“No, I'm sorry. For pushing you away.” you replied. Billie shook her head.
“Oh my god, stop. You don't have to apologize. It all worked out in the end, right?” She asked.
You smiled. “Yeah. It did.”
For several long seconds, there was a comfortable silence that stretched between the two of you. The both of you were smiling at each other, completely lost in the other's eyes. You didn't miss the way Billie's eyes glanced at your lips.
“Billie.” You spoke.
“Yeah, baby?”
The pet name made your heart soar.
“If you don't fucking kiss me right now–”
Billie didn't even let you finish your sentence, her lips colliding with your eyes in an explosion of pent up feelings and passion. She held both sides of your face in your hands, while yours snaked around her waist. You held onto her like she was gonna disappear any second and kissed her like you were starving.
The kiss started off innocent– but it quickly delved into something a bit more intense when Billie just slightly bit your lip, not enough to cause pain but enough to make you gasp. She introduced her tongue hesitantly, silently asking for your permission, which you granted without a second thought.
At some point, Billie finally got out of her swivel chair and moved to sit down on the couch with you. The two of you had pulled apart briefly for that, and when Billie was seated, her eyes were hooded and she was gazing at you like you were sex on longs. She patted her lap, and liked an obedient dog, you wasted no time crawling into her lap.
“I've dreamt about this.” You said, completely breathless and warm in the face.
“Oh, yeah?” Billie asked with a smirk that had your insides flipping upside down. “What else have you dreamt about?”
“Being able to call you mine.”
At that, Billie smiled. “That's all?”
“No, that's not all, but… I'd rather show than tell…” you trailed off, but it was obvious what you were referring to.
“We are getting out of my brother's basement, right fucking now.” Billie said.
The two of you snuck out of Finneas’ house, hand-in-hand and giggling like little kids in love.
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