#and he was excited by the feeling of her breath on his neck

[xo100]

Little dreams - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Y/N takes her son Leo to his first Grand Prix, where they meet his idol, Lando Norris. Lando’s kindness makes the weekend unforgettable, sparking joy for Leo and the possibility of something more for Y/N.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1624

*:･ﾟ A/N: a few days ago I saw on insta that they now released his merch for kids and I immediately had to write a cute fic about it bc the hoodies are absolutely adorable!!!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The Silverstone paddock buzzed with its usual chaos. Engines roared in the background, journalists hustled between interviews, and fans craned their necks for glimpses of their favorite drivers. Among the crowd, a young boy with a mop of dark hair and a light blue hoodie clung to his mother’s hand, his face alight with wonder.

“Mom, this is the best day ever!” he exclaimed, his small feet practically bouncing with excitement.

His mother, Y/N, smiled down at him, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Leo. But remember, we have to stick together, okay? This place can get pretty crowded.”

Leo nodded earnestly, his big brown eyes scanning the bustling paddock. At just six years old, he already knew more about Formula 1 than most adults, a passion inherited from his mom. Y/N had grown up watching races with her dad, and now, as a single mother, she shared that same love with her son.

Leo’s favorite driver, without question, was Lando Norris. His room was decorated with McLaren posters, his toy cars all painted papaya orange, and his wardrobe—thanks to Y/N—now included Lando’s newly launched children’s merch line. The hoodie he wore today was his favorite piece, and he hadn’t stopped talking about it since it arrived in the mail.

“Do you think we’ll see him, Mom?” Leo asked, craning his neck to peer around a group of photographers.

Y/N crouched down to his level, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “Maybe, sweetheart. We have paddock passes, so there’s a chance. But remember, the drivers are super busy, so we have to be patient.”

Leo nodded, though the excitement in his eyes didn’t dim. He clutched the small notepad and marker he’d brought, just in case he got the chance to ask for an autograph.

As they wandered through the paddock, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia. It had been years since she’d attended a race in person, but seeing it through Leo’s eyes made it even more magical.

“Mom! Look!” Leo’s voice was a mix of awe and urgency as he tugged on her hand.

Y/N followed his gaze and froze. Just a few feet away, leaning casually against a barrier and chatting with a team member, was Lando Norris himself.

“Go on,” Y/N encouraged softly, her heart swelling at the sight of her son’s hero so close.

Leo hesitated for a moment, his small frame vibrating with nervous energy. Then, with a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and marched forward.

“Hi, Lando!” he said, his voice high-pitched but clear. “You’re my favorite driver!”

Lando turned, his trademark grin lighting up his face as he crouched to Leo’s level. “Hey, buddy! Thanks for saying that. What’s your name?”

“Leo!” he said proudly, puffing out his chest. “And look! I’m wearing your hoodie!”

Lando’s eyes lit up as he took in the light blue hoodie, the logo of his brand displayed prominently on the front. “No way! That looks awesome on you, Leo. You’ve got great taste.”

Leo beamed, clutching the fabric of his hoodie. “My mom got it for me. She says you’re really cool, too!”

Y/N, who had been hanging back to give Leo his moment, felt her cheeks flush as Lando’s gaze shifted to her. He stood, his grin softening into something more genuine.

“Your mom sounds pretty cool herself,” he said, his voice warm.

Y/N stepped forward, laughing nervously. “Well, I’ve been a fan of the sport for a long time, so I guess I’m passing it on.”

“You’re doing a great job,” Lando said, glancing down at Leo, who was now rifling through his notepad. “It’s always nice to meet fans like you two.”

Leo held up the notepad eagerly. “Can you sign this? Please?”

“Of course!” Lando took the marker and scribbled a quick note, adding a little doodle of a race car next to his signature.

As he handed the notepad back, he turned to Y/N again. “Are you two here for the whole weekend?”

“Yes,” Y/N said. “It’s Leo’s first race, so I wanted to make it special.”

“Well, I think you’ve done a pretty good job so far,” Lando said, his tone teasing.

Y/N laughed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Thanks. He’s been counting down the days for months.”

Lando crouched down again, ruffling Leo’s hair. “I hope you have the best time, Leo. And make sure you cheer extra loud for me, okay?”

“I will!” Leo promised, his face glowing with happiness.

As they walked away, Leo clutching his notepad like a treasure, Y/N glanced back over her shoulder. To her surprise, Lando was still watching them, a thoughtful smile on his face.

“Mom,” Leo said, looking up at her. “That was the best moment of my whole life.”

Y/N smiled, her heart full. “Mine too, sweetheart.”

Little did she know, it wasn’t the last time she’d see that thoughtful smile.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of excitement. Leo couldn’t stop talking about meeting Lando, recounting every detail of their conversation to anyone who would listen. Y/N smiled through it all, her heart full as she watched her son’s joy.

But as much as she tried to focus on the moment, she couldn’t quite shake the memory of Lando’s lingering gaze or the warmth in his voice when he spoke to her. It was probably nothing, she told herself. He was just being kind, like he always was with fans.

The next day, Y/N and Leo returned to the paddock, both dressed in their McLaren gear. Leo wore his hoodie again, proudly showing off the autograph Lando had added to the sleeve. The boy was on cloud nine, and Y/N couldn’t imagine how the weekend could get any better.

But then, it did.

As they wandered near the McLaren garage, a team member approached them with a friendly smile.

“Excuse me, are you Leo?”

Leo’s eyes widened as he nodded. “Yes! That’s me!”

The team member chuckled. “Lando mentioned meeting you yesterday. He thought you might like a closer look at the garage. Would you and your mom like to come in?”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. Follow me.”

Leo practically dragged Y/N by the hand as they followed the team member into the garage. The space was a hive of activity, with engineers working on the cars and team members preparing for the upcoming qualifying session.

Lando was there, of course, leaning casually against the side of his car as he chatted with his race engineer. When he spotted Leo and Y/N, his face lit up with a grin.

“Leo! You made it!”

Leo beamed, running up to him. “This is so cool! Thank you, Lando!”

“Anything for my number one fan,” Lando said, ruffling Leo’s hair. He glanced at Y/N, his smile softening. “Glad you could make it, too.”

“I can’t believe this,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “This is amazing. Thank you so much.”

Lando shrugged, his eyes twinkling. “It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to make sure Leo had a weekend to remember.”

Leo was already engrossed in a conversation with one of the engineers, who was showing him the car’s steering wheel. Y/N took the opportunity to step closer to Lando.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, her voice low. “But it means the world to him. To both of us.”

Lando tilted his head, his gaze steady. “I could tell how much this means to you two. And honestly, it’s nice to meet fans who care about more than just the results. You’ve raised a great kid.”

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the garage fading into the background. Lando’s easy smile and the warmth in his eyes made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time—hope.

“Mom! Look!” Leo’s excited voice broke the moment as he ran over, holding a small piece of carbon fiber. “They gave me a piece of the car! Isn’t that cool?”

“That’s amazing, sweetheart,” Y/N said, crouching to his level. “You’ll have to find a special place for it at home.”

Leo nodded enthusiastically before turning back to Lando. “You’re the best driver ever!”

Lando laughed, crouching down to Leo’s level. “And you’re the best fan ever. Deal?”

“Deal!”

As they left the garage, Y/N couldn’t help but glance back one last time. Lando caught her eye and gave her a small wave, his smile lingering.

The rest of the weekend was a whirlwind of excitement. Leo cheered his heart out during qualifying and the race, and when Lando crossed the finish line in fourth place, he celebrated as if it were a win.

But the real surprise came after the race. As Y/N and Leo were preparing to leave, a McLaren team member approached them again, this time with an envelope.

“Lando asked me to give this to you,” he said, handing it to Y/N.

Curious, she opened it. Inside was a handwritten note:

Y/N and Leo, Thank you for making this weekend unforgettable. Leo, keep being the amazing fan you are. And Y/N, if you’re ever at another race, I’d love to see you again. Maybe we can grab a coffee sometime? -Lando

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she read the note. She glanced at Leo, who was already excitedly telling a passerby about his piece of the car, and then back at the note.

Maybe, just maybe, this weekend wasn’t just a dream come true for Leo.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags; @gridprincess-04 , @justaf1girl

[rafesangelita]

♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

[cherrygirlfriend]

passenger princess pairing: sunshine!reader x bf!rafe synopsis: no one touches your side of the car warnings: fluff! wc: 700 this was such a cute little idea, i loved it!!! this is for the baddies that refuse to get a license ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ originally posted 11/11/2024

whenever you'd come up with some new, ridiculous way to 'tune up' what you had deemed your side of his car, rafe would act like it was such a bother; like he really didn't get why you felt the need to be doing all that.

rafe's side of the car was, well, normal. sure, he had a few documents he kept in the driver's seat sun visor, but everything else was sleek, normal, but your side was like a kindergartner's dream come true. it got so ridiculous that you had a fluffy blanket you'd stuffed into the glove compartment, conveniently ignoring the gun he kept there. sure, that came in use for car quickies, but most of the time it was just there for when you felt like... napping.

the dashboard had a bunch of stickers as well as some of those weird furry toys (calico crits or some shit) along with those weird little babies with fruits on their heads; you'd put blu-tack on their feet to make sure they stayed in their rightful places. even the cup holder was taken over by a little plushie, and he'd basically had to argue for you to not get a pink cover for the steering wheel; that ended up with you giving him the silent treatment for a week until he showed up behind your door with more ridiculous trinkets for your side of the car.

secretly, he liked the fact that there was your side of the car, that even when you weren't there, he could still see traces of you everywhere.

rafe let out a small sigh, tapping his long digits against the steering wheel, glancing down at his watch the longer it took barry to get there; finally, he saw the man getting out of his trailer, letting out a low "fucking finally..." while barry opened the door to rafe's car, his eyes immediately landing on the crap on your side of the car. "don't ask."

"wasn't gonna." barry huffed in amusement, getting into the decorated side of the car, and rafe wished he wasn't in such a hurry, the sight being so ridiculous. "you're whipped, huh?"

"what are you talking about?" rafe scoffed, the car lurching forward as he started it, barry adjusting the cute seat cover you'd recently bought, letting out a small tut. "i wouldn't do that." but before rafe could stop barry from further meddling with your settings, he'd already started adjusting the seat, making him groan internally.

"are you gonna get shit for it?"

"obviously." rafe scoffed, "and you will too. it took her, like, a month to adjust it to be comfortable. so stop touching her shit."

still, barry continued looking at the little trinkets you kept on your side of the car, taking one of those weird fruit babies and toying with it, letting out a small snort, but when they pulled up in front of an unfamiliar house instead of the house party rafe had told him they'd be going, barry looked at the blonde with furrowed brows, who simply scratched the back of his neck.

"don't tell-"

before he could finish his sentence, barry was startled by the sound of a knock on the passenger seat window, and when he turned around, you were standing there, mouthing something.

"she's saying you're in her seat." rafe muttered under his breath, barry laughing at this; it was getting more and more ridiculous by the minute.

"whipped. w-h-i-p-p-e-d." barry slapped rafe's shoulder, making the blonde roll his eyes as barry got out of the passenger's seat.

"hi." you said with an excited smile as you climbed onto your side of the car, pressing a soft kiss on rafe's stubbled cheek, all the while barry climbed into the backseat, feeling like he was a damn kid getting a ride to school from his parents.

however, as you tried to settle onto your usual seat, you looked between the two men with narrowed eyes, your glossed lips pursing into a pout, rafe feeling like he might burn under your gaze.

"did he mess with my seat?"

"i told him not to!"

"barry!" you exclaimed, your keen eyes landing on the dashboard, noticing that something was missing; you turned around to face him, a sheepish grin on barry's face.

"barry, give me the angel back!"

[rawflwrs]

BLURB

▐ terry richmond ୫ black!reader

summary: terry is obsessed with clueless reader and her knitted stockings

warnings: explicit language, slight foot fetish (?), degradation, spitting, begging, fisting, pet names (daddy, princess, etc), overstimulation, dacryphilia, slapping, bimbofication, choking and praising (if you squint) — sub!reader & dom!terry

tags: @notapradagurl7 @simplyzeeka @blackmoonchilee @pocketsizedpanther @blackpinup22 @ovohanna24 @becauseimswagman1 @naughtynolly-blog @honey-b-heart @blyfee @lady-olive-oil @episode-ff @kaylaahisthebestest-

Terry is a sick man. A very sick man. The way his eyes hung low as he watched you throw your legs on his lap, your shorts riding up. He traced his fingers against your white knitted stockings that he loved to see you wear, admiring them as you ramble about your day, wondering if you knew what you were doing to him.

The way his dick rose at the thought of your clothed feet rubbing against his hard cock, with those stockings soaking up his pre-cum. “I don’t even understand what I did wrong.” You pouted explaining your frustration, but realistically Terry could care less. All he wanted to do was ruin your pretty pussy to keep that pretty mouth shut: and that he did.

His car rocked as he blew out smoke, watching you bounce on his thick cock. Your muffled sobs was music to his ears. “You’re daddy’s pretty little slut, aren’t you?” Terry asked, mockingly. “M’ yourr- ah!” You attempted to speak until you felt a hard slap on your cheek. Terry laughed, taking a drag of his blunt, pulling you by your neck to blow some smoke into your mouth.

You whined, blowing the smoke out, feeling yourself reach your high as his cock pressed into what felt like your heart. He was so deep. You started bouncing faster, gripping onto his muscular shoulders for support, knowing you were close to climax. Terry held your thighs down with one hand to stop you from moving. “Who said ‘mma let you cum, huh?” He asked rhetorically. “M’ sorry, daddy! Can’t hold” you hiccuped, wetting your cheeks with hot tears. He was pushing you to your limits and you hated how much you loved it.

Your brain felt fuzzy. You knew you couldn’t hold out for much longer and decided to give in, hoping the consequences weren’t too bad. You came hard on his cock, leaking onto his leather seat as you breathed out heavily. You rested your head on his shoulder in hopes of calming yourself down when you felt your hair being pulled back with force. You thought he had ripped a couple strands of your hair out.

He moved himself out of you, before he hissed saying, “what the fuck did I tell you?” You squirmed in his lap, staying silent. He ashed his blunt and placed to the side. “You can’t speak now?” He mocked, using his free hand to grab your neck, applying enough pressure to excite you, but not enough to intentionally hurt you. He would never hurt his baby.

“Get in the back, now.” He ushered you to move to the backseat. Although you would never admit it, you loved how rough he got when he was high. The way he fulfilled every lewd fantasy you had kept you on edge. Sober Terry was more gentle. He catered to your needs and prioritised your body to make you feel comfortable, whereas, intoxicated Terry was selfish and loved reminding you that you belonged to him. . . Only him.

As you climbed in the backseat, waiting for him to join you, you began removing your clothes. First, your sweater, then your shorts and when you went to remove your stockings, he quickly stopped you by kissing his teeth. “Nah, keep that on.” He ordered with a smirk. He climbed to the back, sitting straight with his back towards the door as you sat there patiently waiting for his next order. “What’s our safe word?” He asked sincerely. “Pancakes.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper. He slapped your cheek, rubbing the same place he just slapped. “Good girl.”

“You gotta start listening to daddy, princess.” He began his rant, pulling his pants all the way off. “You know the rules. Right, baby?” He asked, continuing to strip naked. “M’ sorry, pa. I didn’t mean to cum without permission.” You put your head down, feeling somewhat ashamed. Terry rubbed your still wet cheek from when you were crying previously and kissed your forehead. “Come here.” He motioned for you to move forward. You shifted forward, looking up at him with your glossy eyes. “Open.”

You opened your mouth wide, feeling his spit melt into your mouth. “Swallow.” You swallowed it without a second thought, smiling softly. “Good girl. My pretty girl.” He rubbed your cheek, smiling back at you. He moved his hand to the back of your head, pushing you down towards his grown erection. He tapped his two-toned thick cock on your lips twice, watching his pre-cum drip onto your soft lips. “So beautiful.” He expressed.

You stared at him innocently, tasting the tip before slowly dropping down, inhaling his cock inch by inch. He used his left hand to grab the back of your hair tightly, bobbing your head up and down his cock. “So fucking dirty.” He groaned. Big wet spit bubbles formed as you slurped him whole, proud that you were being so good for him. “You like being my fuck toy, don’t you?” His eyes rolled back, keeping a firm grip on your head as you hummed in response.

You took him deeper while more spit crowded around your mouth and fell onto your chest. It was so disgustingly beautiful. “You gonna let me fuck that throat up?” You hummed in response, approving. With a small exhale through your nose, he placed both of his hands on your head and stroked his cock with your head, letting your soft lips reach the base of his cock, holding you in place. “Fuckk!” He breathed out. You felt yourself start to lose your breath and that fuzzy feeling reappeared; almost as though you lost the ability to think.

The heat between your thighs growing more aggravating by the minute, you tapped his thigh to let you come up. He let go of your head and you immediately lifted up, gasping for air as your saliva dripped onto his dick. Before you knew it, he pushed you back onto his cock, bobbing your head faster. You knew he reached his high and was close to climax when he started mumbling incoherent nonsense. “You taking my dick so well, mama.” He praised. You were his fleshlight.

Soon, you felt hot liquid shoot at the back of your throat and a loud grunt from Terry’s lips. He slowly bobbed your head to make sure he covered every inch of your throat as if he was signing his name and let go of you once he was sure that he was empty.

Terry smiled when he saw you swallow it and stick your tongue out to show him it was all gone. “Good girl.” He slapped you harshly on your cheek, pressing a kiss straight after. “Please, pa.” You begged. “What do you want? Hmm?” He asked, knowing all you wanted was to be fucked brainless. He watched you lay down on your back, lifting your leg up to place on his broad shoulders. He rubbed your stockings, biting the fabric that covered your feet, twirling his tongue around your toes as you tried to suppress your moans. “I asked you a question.” He glared, continuing to suck on your toes through your stockings.

“I want you to use me.” You pleaded. You felt so embarrassed. On the outside, most people thought you were somewhat of a strong, independent woman who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, but here you are begging to be used like a meaningless toy. How pathetic. “That’s all you had to say.” He smiled against your feet, trailing kisses up and down your legs. “Open that pussy wide.” He ordered, watching closely as you brought your hands to your clit, spreading it open.

The way it was glistening, begging for him to touch it, abuse it, relieve it. Terry lost all composure. He sat back on the middle seat, facing forward, calculating his next move. He motioned for you to lay on his lap. As you moved towards his lap, you let out a small whine, feeling a strong hot sensation on your ass. Then another and another and another.

You were practically sobbing by the fifth slap. Knowing he was going for his sixth harsh slap, you moved your hand back to try and stop him, in an attempt to ease the pain. “T-Terr-y slo’ dow-n.” You pleaded, losing your ability to form a coherent sentence. “The fuck you just call me?” He gripped you by your hair to look you dead in your eyes.

You fucked up. “W-wait! M’ sorry.” You tried to apologise, but you knew he wasn’t going to accept it. On a normal day, he loved the way his name rolled off your tongue, but during a time like this? You knew better. Before you could say anything else, his four large fingers were buried deep into your wet folds, moving in and out of you fast. The wet gushing sound filled his car as he quickened his pace, watching you crumble beneath him. You tried to speak, but no words could physically come out of your mouth: just sweet nothings.

“What’s my name?” He asked, wondering if he should fist your tight hole to stretch you out ready for when he’s going to fuck you senseless. “Da- ah!” You squealed as you felt yourself squirting. Your legs felt so numb and all you could do was cry because you knew he wasn’t gonna stop until you said what he wanted to hear. He added his fifth finger and began fisting roughly into you, using his free hand to grab your throat. “You can take it, mama. What’s my name?” He asked again. All you could feel was how close you were to climax and how deep his big hand was rammed into your pussy.

“Say it and I’ll let you cum.” He slowed his pace down, knowing you were close. “D-ddy.” You whispered, brain foggy, sweat dripping from every part of your body. You wouldn’t be surprised if you passed out. “I can’t hear you. Say it again.” At this point, you could’ve sworn you saw the light, but you tried pushing through knowing your orgasm was going to be worth it. “Daddy!” You screamed. With that, Terry pulled his fist out as your body started to jitter, meaning you were about to cum.

“Let it out, mama.” His deep voice echoed. Your quiet sobs filled up the car as you came. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, mixing your cum in with your squirt fluid, enjoying how far he pushed you. “So fucking sexy.” He hummed, pulling his thumb to your lips for you to suck on. Your plump lips wrapped around his thumb, tasting your sweet juices. He thought you looked the prettiest in times like these.

“You gone let me beat that pussy up?” He asked with a smirk, rubbing your covered feet. You could feel the excitement leap out of you as your small giggles blessed his ear. No matter how far he pushed you, you always wanted more.

PART TWO???

[writingsbytee]

GET BACK pt. 2

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER (AVA)

Photo: @partiallyfuctional7

*Remember you are in charge of your own consumption. 18+ up audiences only; minors please don’t interact!* THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 

Song: Belong to you by Sabrina Claudio (feat. 6LACK)

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: The reader has insecurities; Terry is a big, sexy, toxic, idiot here. SMUT; explicit sexual content; dirty talk; switch

PAIRING: Terry x Ava (reader)

SUMMARY: Tension develops between you and your baby’s father when he discovers you might be moving on. Terry’s unhinged ass is going to do whatever he can to get her back.

TROPES:  Second chance romance; MDOM or dominant themes

WORD COUNT: 5.8K

PREVIOUSLY ON: part 1.

TAGLIST:

@blackgurlnhermoods @megamindsecretlair @dxddykenn @pinkkycherrish @episodes-ff @kimuzostar @uzumaki-rebellion @urfavblackbimbo @kianaleani @shallipii @greatpandagladiator @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @pocketsizedpanther @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @nayaesworld @earthchica @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melalsworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @sweettea-and-honeybutter @diaries-of-me @notapradagurl7 @helloncrocs-deactivated20241222 @miyuhpapayuh @simplyzeeka @gg-trini @playgurlxoxo @megamindsecretlair @yassbishimvintage @dbaileyblog @jimmybutlrr @versaceslutz @kaylalb

*This hasn't been proofread so I apologize for any grammatical errors >.<*

AVA

“ Look TJ, do you see all the lights?” I ask my son as his eyes dart around the beautifully decorated blocks of downtown Savannah. TJ has barely opened his mouth since we arrived. His hazel eyes, so similar to his father's, stare at the decorated buildings and storefronts in awe. 

“Lil man is so excited he speechless,” Lance said, adjusting his hat on my face.

“You know, you didn’t have to give me your hat Lance. I would’ve survived,” I say smiling up at him. Lance smirks down at me before saying, “I could get used to seeing you in my clothes.”

I can feel a blush creeping up my neck as I smile bashfully at him. Before I can reply I hear a scoff, “Oh, brother.”

I cut my eyes to my left, peeking at Terry. He looks like a sulking teenager, lips pouted, brows furrowed, and arms crossed.  We make eye contact and I narrow my eyes signaling him to get it together, but he just huffs and rolls his eyes. He needs to get a grip, I’m barely even on a date and Terry’s chaperoning like an overprotective dad. 

Coming to a stop in front of a storefront decorated like the North Pole, Lance passes his phone to me. 

“Can you take our picture?” Lance asks, picking up his son. I nod positioning the phone, giving Lance subtle directions. 

“All done,” I give Lance a small smile before grabbing his phone. 

“Thanks beautiful. I can get some of you and TJ if you want,” Lance said. 

I open my mouth to reply, but Terry beats me to it. “Actually, can you get pics of all three of us?” Terry passes his phone to Lance and tugs me in front of the store with him. He wraps his arms around my waist, igniting a spark deep in my belly. 

“TJ, come stand in front of your mama buddy,” Terry said, tightening his grip around my midsection, he takes Lance’s hat off my head, passing it to him. 

“Terry, chill out,” I whisper in his direction. 

Terry scoffs behind me, “Lance can’t handle a little friendly competition?” My mouth momentarily drops at Terry’s boldness. I can’t believe he said that in front of Lance. 

Lance, being the trooper he is, smirked before saying, “Show me the competition and I’ll be sure to let you know.”

A strangled gasp leaves my lips. I hear Terry’s breathing slow and he takes a deep heavy sigh, he’s pissed. Instinctively, I reach down and rub his thigh, “Behave guys, the children shouldn’t be acting better than the two of you,” I say. I watch as Lance and Terry exchange looks over my head. The two are completely ignoring me, looking at each other like they’re going to start throwing blows any minute. 

Lance grabs my phone, a condescending smirk on his face. He appears satisfied with himself for getting a rise out of Terry. And, I’m not sure why that doesn’t sit well with me. 

“Fix your face, Bunny” Terry said, rubbing soothing circles on my hand. 

I huff and mutter, “You know I don’t like conflict.”

I can feel Terry shift his weight behind me, “And you know I don’t like that mumbling shit. Speak up.” TJ comes to stand in front of us, tilting his head back to look at me. 

“Smile mommy, you’re so pretty,” TJ says, a goofy grin adorning his beautiful face. I pick up my little man, place him on my hip, and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Anything for my favorite guy,” I say, smiling down at him. Soon we’re all positioned and Lance snaps a few photos of us three. Handing the phone back, Terry and I look at the pictures. A small smile forms on my lips as I stare at the three of us on his cell phone’s screen. I look up at Lance, my smile turning into a full blown grin. 

“Thank you so much! These are perfect!” an excited laugh bubbles out of my chest. Terry sends the pictures to me before sliding his phone into his pocket. 

“Ok, what’s next?”

TERRY

She’s really going to ignore me? I watch Ava and Lance walk around downtown hand in hand with the boys. I’m stuck following closely behind sulking like a teen who was dragged out to be with their ‘lame’ family. I really thought holding her in my arms would have more of an effect on her. How she wasn’t able to hear my heart beating out of my chest is beyond me. 

We pass a vintage bookstore and I peek in the window. A familiar box set catches my eye and I glance toward Ava to see if she noticed. I duck in while she and Lance are figuring out what time they’re going to call it a night. 

The gentle ding indicates when I enter the store, “Hi! Welcome to ‘the book nook’ feel free to take a look around, and let us know if you have any questions,” one of the saleswomen says. I send a friendly smile her way, before making my way toward her. 

“Hi, I was hoping to buy that limited edition Twilight box set,” I say. 

“Aren’t you a little bit old for Twilight?”, the elderly saleswoman asks. 

A small chuckle leaves my lips, “It’s for my girlfriend, she’s been a huge Twilight fan since before we met.”

Her eyes soften as she clutches her chest, “Aren’t you sweet! I’m sure she’ll love it, it’s our last set.”

My smile widens as I picture her reaction, she’s definitely going to lose her shit. 

After purchasing Ava’s gift I leave the bookstore.

“There you are, TJ was looking for you,” Ava said, her eyes shone with relief. She turned and I spotted our son on her hip with tears streaming down his face. I immediately pick up my pace to catch up with them.

“Bubba what happened? Who did it?” I coo, as I grab my son from Ava’s arms. His small head immediately finds his home in the crook of my neck. His tiny arms wrapped around me. Ava lifts a hand rubbing his back in soothing circles. 

“I think he’s just tired. He missed his nap today and this is the longest he’s been up,” Ava said. God, she looks so pretty when she’s in “mom mode”. Brows furrowed in concern and she does her best to sooth TJ’s small cries. 

“How about I bring him back to the house, give him a bath, and tuck him in?” I suggest. I can see the wheels spinning in her head, but I know she’s too tired herself to deal with a sleepy cranky child. 

I see her shoulders sag with relief, “Thank you so much, Terry!” She quickly turns to Lance giving him an apology and setting up a date for a raincheck. Yeah, we’ll see about that. I grasp her hand in mine and lead us back toward where we parked. TJ’s mostly settled down when we make it to my truck, only small whimpers leaving him. I got him settled in his car seat placing a blanket in his lap with his scar stuffed animal. 

I turn to Ava and say, “You want to ride with me? Or I just follow you back home?” I can barely get my question out when Ava lets out a long, drawn out yawn, a small mewl finishing it off. 

“Get in the truck Ava, I’m not saying it again,” I say, moving toward the passenger door. She opens her mouth to protest and I shoot her a look that tells her to pick her battles. I hear her huff and mutter, “So fucking stubborn,” under her breath. A satisfied smirk makes its way onto my face as Ava makes her way to the passenger side. I hold out my hand signaling her to stop before opening the door for her.

“Thank you,” she huffs, with a roll of her eyes. 

A humorless chuckle leaves my mouth, “Watch those eyes Bunny, I can still put you over my knee.” I shut the door, leaving her in stunned silence.

We finally make it back home, and TJ is passed out in the backseat with Ava not too far behind him. Ava turns to get a look at TJ and her eyes soften the way they always do when she looks at our son. Looking at her, I can’t help but wish her eyes softened like that when they land on me. 

“He’s so cute when he’s sleeping. I can’t get over it,” she sighs dreamily. I peek in my rearview mirror, taking in our sleeping son’s face.

“Yeah, he is pretty damn cute. He must get it from me,” I say, poppin my collar. A gasp and high pitched laugh leaves Ava’s lips at my comment. 

“Oh brother, here we go again. He looks like the both of us, Terry!” Ava finishes with a laugh. I pull in our driveway and park my truck. I hop out heading to the backseat to get TJ out of his carseat.

“I’ll go unlock the door while you get him settled,” Ava says heading toward the door. TJ fusses a little when I take him out of his carseat and during his bath but he’s so sleepy he can barely keep his eyes open. I change him into his PJs and head back downstairs to see Ava pouring herself a generous glass of wine. 

Her eyes meet mine when I enter the kitchen, “Want one?”she asks, holding up an empty glass. A small smile forms on my lips as I nod my head. Ava pours me a hefty serving before rounding the island and bringing the glass to me. 

“Thank you,” I say, raising my glass toward her before taking a large gulp. 

“What was that out there today Terry?”Ava asks, leaning against the island. I knew this was coming and I still don’t know how I’m supposed to answer her. A deep sigh leaves my lips and I shrug.

“Uh uh, I do enough dealing with little men who can’t express their emotions. Be a grown man and tell me why you were full on cock-blocking me today,” Ava’s got that deep frown that I find so cute.

“I don’t know. I just saw y’all together and you looked so happy. I just didn’t know how to deal with it, so I acted childishly and I’m sorry about that. But that’s all I’m apologizing for. You know we belong together, so if you gotta do you until you realize it then that’s fine, but just know I’m Daddy.”

AVA

“..Just know I’m Daddy.”

I hear the words leave Terry’s mouth but I don’t really process them. I look from side to side, searching for the hidden cameras like they do on ‘the office’. 

“Who said that?!” a shrill laugh leaves my lips. I watch as Terry encroaches on my space. His eyes determined, oh boy, I’m in trouble. That’s the look that got me pregnant.

“Uh uh, take your Scar looking ass and go sit down somewhere,” I say putting my hand up to stop him. 

Terry’s eyes darken, further proving my point. He advanced more toward me, forcing my back against the island. “Say I’m not, Ava.”

A scoff leaves my lips, “You’re definitely somebody’s daddy, just not mine. Call Brandy and ask her,” I finish with a smirk. I walk around him to the fridge to grab the bottle of wine, because now, I need to finish it. Once I have my wine glass and the bottle, I cut the kitchen light off, and head upstairs. An angry huff leaves Terry’s lips as he follows behind me. I pause midway up the stairs, turning to face him. 

“Umm, wrong direction. The door you’re supposed to be going through is that way,” I say, pointing toward the front door. 

This really pisses Terry off and he closes the distance between us, when he towers over me like this I forget how much bigger he is than me. I also forgot how much his hugeness turns me on. My pussy’s already betraying me, I feel her start to weep in my panties. 

“I’m not going to take too much more disrespect, Bunny. You better find something safe to do,” Terry’s looking down his nose at me, and he knows what that does to me. I bring my wine glass up to my lips and take another sip. 

“Are you done?” I question looking up at him. When he doesn’t answer, I sigh and turn. Terry grabs my belt loop, holding me in place. 

“Ava come on, talk to me.” Terry said. Oh no this motherfucker didn’t.

“Terry, what do you want me to say? You know how I feel about you, and yet you still decided to parade woman after woman in front of my face. And, not to mention our son’s too, which I don’t appreciate. You’re a great father, I love the way you love our son. But, Terry, you’re toxic. You thought ‘good old’ Ava will always be there when I’m finally ready to settle down. So now that I’m finally trying to get over you and be happy for once you can’t handle it? Grow up. If you’re in then prove it. I’m nobody’s second choice,”  I bring my finger up to poke the center of his chest to emphasize my point. Terry’s eyes get impossibly darker, like the sky before a bad storm. He gently grabs the wine glass and bottle from my hands and sets them higher up on the stairs. 

I feel his hands slide up my back before making their home at the base of my neck. 

“Ava, you’re it for me. I was scared. We’d always been friends, even more than friends on a few occasions. When TJ came along, the way I saw you started to shift. The way you are with our son is the love every child needs. Our son is so lucky to have you as his mother. You’re so patient and understanding, even when I don’t deserve it. I was scared of how strong for you my feelings became,  so I ran from it and buried those feelings behind other women. It was a horrible thing to do and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for how that must’ve made you feel. Brandy was never anything serious, I knew that and so did she. I ended things with her right after Lance took our pictures. I’m not saying I deserve to have a shot, but I do want you to know that I’m in this Bunny, I want you, and I’m going to have you no matter how long it takes.”  Terry finishes, his eyes never leaving mine. 

Fuck. 

I lean up and press my lips softly against his, I try to retreat and Terry shakes his head pulling me in closer. Our lips meet again, there’s nothing soft about this kiss. His lips cover mine in a possessive embrace. He is tonguing me down, I can’t think about anything other than how good his lips feel on mine. I raise my tiptoes so I can wrap my arms around Terry’s neck. A needy moan leaves his lips as I press myself closer to him. 

I lean back, looking down at Terry, “You want to go finish this upstairs?”

Terry nods his head, his hands sliding slowly down my body to ease me onto the bottom of my feet.  “Go take your clothes off and get in the bed, I’m going to make sure everything is locked up down here,” Terry commands.  You’ve had lots of guys try to be commanding and dominant  while getting intimate. Unfortunately, they made you cringe so hard the thought of having actual sex with them made you drier than the sahara. None of them could do it quite like Terry. A sharp smack lands on your ass, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“Bunny, upstairs, now,” Terry says. A small smirk forms on my face. I plant a kiss on his cheek, “Yes, Daddy. Don’t keep me waiting.” I head upstairs, making sure to check on TJ, turning on his white noise machine before closing the door.

TERRY

I put the bottom lock on, jiggling the handle to double check. My heart is about to beat out of my chest. I’m so fucking nervous. Climbing the stairs two at a time, I open TJ’s door to check on him. Adjusting his blankets, so he’s more comfortable, then I turn on his nightlight, and leave the room. Making my way further down the hall, my feet stop behind our bedroom door. I knock twice and I hear Ava’s soft voice telling me to come in. 

Opening the door, I’m met with soft mood lighting and palo alto incense burning. My eyes scan the room and when they land on Ava my jaw nearly drops. She’s in a baby pink negligee, her hair’s down cascading down her shoulders stopping just above her breasts. She’s looking at me, vulnerability and apprehension clear on her features. I enter the room moving toward the edge of the bed, Ava’s eyes following my every movement. 

“Why are you looking at me like that pretty girl?”, I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m scared Terry, what if this doesn’t work?” Ava says, her voice breaking at the end of her sentence.

“I don’t look like the other women you’ve been with,” Ava’s voice trails off as she wraps her arms around her midsection. I immediately kick my shoes off, crawling to meet Ava in the center of our bed. I’m on my knees, my height still towering over her a bit.  I reach out to palm her face, her head leaning into my touch. 

“Bunny, this is going to work. I didn’t realize what I had before, and if you think I’m going to risk anyone thinking they can come in and take my place in yours and TJ’s life they’ve got another thing coming. I’m in this and I’m not going anywhere. Ava, don’t EVER compare yourself to those women. The sole reason I went out with any of them is because they look nothing like you. You were what I needed all along, I was just too much of a scared chickenshit to realize it,” I say my eyes never leaving hers. 

A small smile forms on her lips, “Kiss me then, Terry”. A sigh of relief leaves my lips as I lean forward and plant my lips on hers. A cute little sigh leaves her lips when ours connect. Kissing Ava feels like coming home. I crawl further up the bed, needing to be closer to her. Her nails scrape against the nape of my neck pulling a moan from my lips. 

“So responsive,” Ava says with a smirk. I look down seeing her nipples pebbled through her negligee. 

“Me? Or you?” I ask, nodding toward them. A small giggle leaves her lips as she pulls me down, reconnecting our lips. 

“Fuck, you’re a good kisser,”I moan against her lips. 

She smiles against mine, “I know. You’re not so bad yourself.” Ava pulls back, causing a groan to leave my lips. She chuckles scooting further up the bed, causing me to chase after her. A pedicured foot stops me, planting itself in the center of my chest. 

“Why don’t you take that shirt off?” Ava asked. I could barely concentrate on her question with her foot against my chest and leg in the air, I had a direct line of sight to her pretty pussy. 

Ava’s eyes follow mine, unmoving from her glistening honeypot. 

“Cat got your tongue, Terry?” Ava asked, smirking at me. 

My gaze darkens when my eyes meet hers, “Not yet, Bunny.” I pull my shirt over my head and I watch as Ava’s eyes roam over my chest. When her eyes come in contact with my arms, she bites her lip. I grab her ankle using her leg to wrap around my waist so I can settle myself between her legs.

 Our eyes meet and I watch in awe as Ava’s eyes soften, “I want you papa, but I need you to be careful with me, it’s been a while,” she says, reaching her hand up and stroking my cheek.

“I’ve got you baby, I promise,” I say, bending down to plant kisses along her neck. She moans, and if my dick gets any harder it’ll punch a hole through my jeans. I press harder into her, so she can feel what she does to me, how much she turns me on, and how much I want her. 

“Can you feel that, Bunny? How much I want you?,” I’m trailing kisses all over her body. Her neck, collarbone, and the tops of her breast. She’s squirming, can’t keep still, her little moans music to my ears. 

“More papa, give me more,” she pleads, her chest heaving as she tries to contain her arousal. 

“I’m going to give you everything, pretty girl,” I say, sliding my hand down her negligee to reach her center. 

“Fuck, you’re this wet for me Baby? Your panties aren’t even off yet,” I could feel her wetness through her panties. I slide down the bed, coming face to face with her pussy. Pressing my nose in it, I take a deep inhale, groaning at the smell. 

“You smell so good, pretty girl. Are you going to give papa a taste?”, I ask, snapping her underwear against her skin. I almost feel bad for how much she’s squirming, aching for something, anything. 

“Please papa, I need you to do something!”, she whines, her back arching. I slide her panties down her leg, placing them in my back pocket. I spread her pussy lips, listening to the schlick as I spread her apart. Another groan leaves my chest taking in her hot, wet cunt. I lean forward and lick from her asshole to her clit. A drawn out whine leaves Ava’s lips as she grips the back of my head. 

“More papa, please,”she whines.

“You’re being so good for me Bunny, take the rest of your clothes off. I want to see you,” I say diving back in. She peels off her negligee and starts pinching and pulling at her nipples. I take her clit in between my lips and tease it, licking, sucking, anything that’ll drive my bunny wild. She starts grinding against my face, and it unlocks something feral in me. 

Flipping us over so Ava’s straddling my face, she’s looking down at me biting her lip, eyes half mast with desire. 

“Ride my face, Bunny. Take what you want from me baby, I’m yours,” I say, reaching my hands up to massage the voluptuous globes of her ass. I see the wheels spinning in her head, doubt and insecurity taking over. 

“And don’t you start with that ‘I’m heavy’ shit, I can bench press three of you. Sit that pussy on my face now mama,” I finish, with a smack on her ass. Ava lowers herself fully onto my face and I attack her pussy like a man starved. It sounds absolutely filthy in here with the slurping, and moaning. 

Ava starts to grind down on my face causing me to moan right on her clit. A high pitched squeal leaves her lips as she raises up and squirts on my chest. We both stare at each other in disbelief as we take in what just happened. A devious smirk forms on my lips as I pull Ava back down on my face, attacking her pussy with fervor. Determined to make her squirt again. 

“F-fuck papa keep going, pleaaaaaseeeeee,” she moans as she grinds harder. 

“You going to squirt again for me baby? Give me that cum, I need it,” I moan desperately. My own hips canting up in the air searching for friction. 

“Do you want me to take him out papa?” Ava asks, stroking my dick through my pants. 

A needy moan leaves my lips, I detach my lips from her clit and moan out, “Yes please.”

“Mmm, such a good boy using his manners,” Ava said before sliding down my body to free my aching dick from my pants. 

“Fuck, I forgot how big you were,” Ava moans grabbing the base of my dick, slapping her face with it. I lean up on my elbows watching her play with my dick. She does these little kitten licks, that drive me fucking nuts. She grabs my balls, my abs tensing up with the need to release.

“Ooh they’re so heavy, you need to cum don’t you papa?”, Ava’s looking down at me like she owns me. A goddess in complete control of my mind, body,and soul, and I’m loving every minute of it. 

“Yes mama, I need to cum. You don’t know how bad I need you to make me cum.” I sound pussy drunk and she hasn’t even given me any yet. 

“Tell me papa, that’s the only way I’ll let you cum, tell me how much you want it,” She whispers all that in my ear while jerking my dick. 

“Ava please I need that pussy bad baby. Haven’t been able to get it out of my head since the last time I had it. I need you, your lips on mine. Let me touch you bunny, please. She’s so wet for me, let me have that pussy baby, can’t you see how bad I want it? I’ve been dreaming about you, when’s the next time I’ll be able to have you. I need to hear your moans, to watch how dazed your eyes get when I hit that spot. I forgot how pretty you are when you come, you’ll have to keep reminding me,” I barely finished my rant the way she’s stroking me. 

“F- Fuck, I’m not going to last i- if you keep stroking me like that baby,” my head drops back between my shoulders as a loud moan leaves my lips. Next thing I know Ava’s gliding down my dick. 

AVA

“Ouu papa, you’re stretching meeeee!” I moan, my nails digging into Terry’s chest. Terry’s thick dick separating my folds as I impale myself on him. 

Back arched, face tilted toward the ceiling, “Mmm, yes papa,” I moan, when I’m fully seated on Terry’s dick. I bring my head up, eyes meeting Terry’s instantly. 

“Who’s pussy did you miss so much that you had to beg to get back inside papa?” I drag my hips up slowly, pulling Terry out to the tip and circling my hips. His eyes start to roll upward and a mumbled ‘shit’ leaves his lips. The grip on my hips turns bruising as Terry tries to control himself. 

“Huh? I can’t hear you T,” I smirk when using his nickname has the desired effect. Terry’s breathing heavier, his eyes are lower, and I can see every damn vein in his arm. The beast is about to come out. 

I take a deep breath, I know the next thing that comes out of my mouth is going to set Terry off. 

“Can’t even answer a simple question, maybe I should’ve taken Lance up on his offer,” I slide completely off Terry’s dick a smirk on my face as dodge his grip and grab my robe. Leaning against the dresser I throw it on leaving it open just to fuck with him. Something like a growl leaves Terry’s mouth as he sits up. He stands and makes his way toward me, dick still hard as a rock. 

“Repeat what you just said. I dare you,” Terry’s right where I want him. I just have to sweeten the deal. 

I sigh dramatically and tighten my robe around my waist, “Your ears work perfectly fine, now if you’ll excuse me.’’ I can barely take a step around him before Terry grabs my wrist guiding me to the center of  my our  room. He says nothing to me while I smirk up at him, a bratty glint in my eye that I know he notices. Terry smirks right back, a light chuckle following. Before I could blink he snatched my robe off and spun me around to face my full body mirror.

“Since you keep flapping those gums, the only words you get to speak are ‘yes papa’. Do you understand?” Terry asks, pressing into the center of my back forcing me down. 

“Who do you think..,”I start, but I hear the crack of his hand meeting my ass before the delicious warmth blooms across my backside. Terry grabs a condom out of his back pocket before taking his pants off. 

“Ava, I’ve been patient. I sat by while you flirted with Lance. Smiling up at him, laughing at his corny ass jokes, blushing at his fucking spot on compliments, and then you had to nerve to wear his hat. I’m a patient man sweetheart, but there’s only so much I can take. I planned on making sweet love to you all night, but I guess I’m saving that for tomorrow. Tonight I’m going to fuck the shit out of you,” Terry finishes his rant by sliding into me. One brutal thrust was all it took for my resolve to shatter at my feet. 

“Yes, papa!” I moan. Terry starts to thrust and he’s filling me just the way I remember. He’s so thick it stings with the stretch, but pressure of him hitting my g-spot time after time makes it worth it. 

“Missed this fucking, wet ass pussy! Yeah, ma! Give me that shit,” Terry moans, one hand in my hair, the other gripping where my thigh meets my ass. I sound dick drunk already, babbling ‘yes papa’ in between moans. The room sounds like a symphony of sex. The ‘phap, phap’ of my ass hitting Terry’s thighs, the slick sounds of his dick entering my pussy, and our moans.

“That’s my girl! You’re listening so well, you’re perfect. Keep those eyes on the mirror, watch us” Terry commands, with another smack on my ass.

“Yessss, papa” I moan, bringing my hazy eyes up to lock with his in the mirror. 

When our eyes meet, Terry’s hips falter, “So fucking, pretty when you’re taking Papa’s dick. I wish you could see how wet your pussy is right now, she soaked, creamin’ all over me.” Terry shifts his position, starting to tap my cervix. A high pitched moan is expelled from my chest  in response because it’s all I can’t really say anything else. Terry grabbed my hips steadying me before lowering us both on the floor with him kneeling and me on top.

My eyes refocus on Terry’s, a pleading look on my face. “Aww, Bunny do you want your words back?” His fingers start to rub teasing circles on my clit, pulling a needy whine from my throat. 

“Yes, Papa” I pant, starting to grind back on Terry’s dick. 

“Mmm, fuck you’re taking me so well sweetheart. I’ll give you your words back just answer some questions okay?,” Terry starts to quicken his thrusts. The fat mushroom head of his dick punching my G-spot. I don’t know why I asked for my words back, I can’t even think with the way Terry’s digging my shit out. 

My breath stutters when Terry’s hand grips my throat. He pulls me up,my back pressed against his chest. I feel my pussy clench around his dick, an answering moan Terry makes gets me even wetter. 

“Y-Yes papa.”

“This my pussy?”Terry whispers against my ear. He had me grasping his thighs for dear life. Another smack lands on my ass meat when I don’t respond fast enough. 

“Ungh! Yes! Papa!” I squeal, the tell-tale tightening of my belly starting.

“This still my house?” Terry punctuates each word with a thrust. It feels like he’s writing his name on my cervix. His fingers are strumming against my clit, stimulating me even more. 

“Ouu Y-Yes Pa-Papa!” I squeal. Terry’s asking questions he already knows the answers to. 

“Fuck, Babygirl. I -I’m not going to last. Use your words ma, tell me how it feels” Terry’s mouthing at my throat, everywhere he touches feels like a raw nerve. 

A moan of relief flies out of my mouth, “Ouu fuck papa that dick feel so good! Keeps hitting my  spot!”

Terry wraps both his arms around me for leverage as he starts pounding me. The sound of my ass meeting his hips thunderous. My lower belly feels like it’s on fire with how desperate 

I am to come. 

Terry’ss dick is stirring up my insides and I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. “I want you to come for papa okay sweetheart. I want you to take everything you’re feeling right now out on my dick. Let her cry for him, he needs it, I need it. I need to see you cum Ava, can you do that for me please Bunny? Can you cum for me?”

Having Terry talk me through it brought on an orgasm like no other. I came with the force of a thousand suns. I could feel my every single atom split apart and be put back together by Terry’s  grounding kisses. My eyes refocus on Terry briefly to watch as he falls apart. 

“Mmm, yessss T, come for me,” I moan, bringing my hand up to stroke the back of Terry’s neck. He fucks me straight through his orgasm and forces me into another one. This one forces Terry out of me as I squirt. Moans and squeals leave my lips as I succumb to the mind numbing pleasure that Terry keeps providing. My eyes roll into the back of my head as my world gets a little hazy.   

“Welcome back, thought I lost you there,”I hear after a few moments.  Terry chuckles, peppering kisses along my cheeks. He gently slides out of me before picking me up, and carrying me to the bed. He walks to the en suite and I blatantly check out his dump truck. Returning with a warm rag after discarding the condom, Terry bends down and begins to clean me up. A small hum of appreciation leaves my throat. He answers with a kiss on my right hip. Terry grabs his shirt off the floor, sliding it over my head before tossing on his boxers.

“I’m gonna go check on TJ and get us a snack, I’ll be right back,”Terry finishes with a kiss on my forehead before heading out of the room. 

I sigh wistfully as I launch myself backward into my pillows. Of course, I know that all of Terry and I’s problems can’t be fixed in a day, but I’m open to trying and I think he is too. Terry returns to the room with a pint of mint chocolate chip and a single spoon. I forgot, Terry loves to feed me after he cracks my back like a glowstick. 

“TJ asleep?” I ask, making room for him. 

Terry grins sliding into bed next to me, “Out like a light.”

AUTHORS NOTE:  OMG I know it’s a little late, but life has been doing its thang. I really hope you guys enjoy this one as always I accept criticism but be gentle with me. I’m sensitive. I hope I tied this together well, I think this might be the longest fic I’ve written. Oh! And I want to start doing some requests, so y’all ask me stuff! I read and don’t judge lol. I love you guys and I hope the rest of January and February is kind to you

UNTIL NEXT TIME

TEE <3

[dpspcehntr]

Letting my freak flag fly 🎏 imagine Zayne dressed in a posh tuxedo at an even posher dinner event celebrating some award he's won and you keep feeling him up under the table cloth. He snaps and tells you to meet him in the bathroom, thinking he's going to make you pay for all your teasing, but no lol you tell him you want him to manually pleasure you with his posh gloves on 😁 and then he has to keep wearing them until the event ends lol

My Brian when I'm bored, I swear....

My dear friend, I am always in your debt for how wonderful your mind is. Thank you for blessing me with such an image 🙇🏾🙇🏾🙇🏾

My ask box is officially back open! Send in your requests, thoughts, and head cannons and I might write a little something for you! Please read the rules first!

Warnings: public sex, fingering, gloves kink, exhibitionism (if you squint)

You place your hand in between his thighs, inching closer and closer to his crotch. He lets out a cough to disguise his groan as you begin to run your fingers along his clothed hard on forming. His breath is shallow as you trace a star along his crotch. You thanked the powers at be for how long the table cloth was. He leans over to your ear and covers his mouth.

“Behave yourself.”

You bite back a groan as he shifts to move your hand lower. He pulls back and rejoins the conversation at the table. You lean over to his ear and cover your mouth.

“Make me.”

His eyes flash with something but he’s is usual composed self before you can pin point it.

“Will you excuse us a moment?”

He stands up from the table and you follow suit. He offers you his arm and you link yours with his. You both walk calmly out the ballroom toward the restrooms. Once inside he gives you a once over.

“I usually would try to teach you some manners about these situations. But seeing as you’re dressed like this I don’t think I’m in my right mind enough to do so.”

You gulp watching his hand reach toward your dripping core. He hikes up your dress and presses himself into you.

“Keep the gloves on.”

“As you wish.”

He runs a finger over your clothed core a you bite back a moan.

“I’m suspecting you want me to accept my reward with you still on my fingers is that correct?”

You nod feverishly as he hooks a finger underneath your underwear. He presses two fingers into your dripping hole and thrust them in. The added texture of the gloves makes the stretch feel heavenly. You knew better than to thrust yourself onto them so with all your willpower you hold yourself still. His pace is merciless, fucking into you hard and fast. You grip his shoulders for support as you pull him in your a hot kiss. You weren’t gonna last much longer as a groan slips past your lips. He kisses down your jaw and neck as he pumps faster into you.

“Either you cum now or you wait till after the banquet. The choice is yours.”

He pumps into you once more as you clench down onto his fingers. You bite back the moan as you shake underneath him. He pulls his fingers out and pulls back from you. You both quickly fix yourselves up and head out the restroom one at a time. Once back at the table you examine your handiwork, the glove is still damp, your wetness clinging the gloves to his fingers. Soon he goes up to the stage and accepts himself award with the hand still smeared with your juices. You feel a gush in your already ruined underwear as he gives a quick speech. You can’t focus as you watch those two fingers grip the award, your head swimming with desire. When he arrives back at the table he holds his other hand out to you.

“My date is not feeling well this evening. I think it is best if I take her home now.”

He explains to the table as you gather yourself and take his hand. You already know what’s in store for you when you leave, the excitement leaving you dripping once again.

[andy-15-07]

Whispers in the Dark

PAIRING:Paul Mescal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1976

Paul Mescal Masterlist

The room was bathed in the warm, golden light of a bedside lamp, casting long, soft shadows on the walls. Paul sat on the edge of the bed, his white t-shirt clinging to his shoulders and chest. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous smile playing on his lips. Y/n stood by the window, her arms crossed lightly, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. The hum of Dublin’s nightlife buzzed faintly below, but up here, in this small cocoon of a hotel room, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Paul said, his Irish accent lilting as he broke the silence. His tone was gentle, teasing, but there was an undercurrent of vulnerability that Y/n could hear plainly.

She turned to face him, her lips curving into a small smile. “Just... soaking it all in, I guess.”

He chuckled softly, running a hand through his messy curls. “It’s not every day you spend the night with an Irish lad, eh?”

“No,” she replied, her voice tinged with playful sarcasm. “Not every day.”

Paul patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Come here,” he murmured, his eyes warm and inviting.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, then crossed the room, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She sat beside him, her knee brushing against his. Paul reached out, his hand grazing her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You know,” he began, his voice low, “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a while.”

“Oh, have you now?” she teased, tilting her head slightly.

He nodded, a soft blush creeping up his neck. “I’ve wanted to make this special. You’re special, Y/n.”

Her breath hitched at his words, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. “Paul...” she began, but he cut her off with a gentle shake of his head.

“Let me finish,” he said, his hand now resting on hers. “I’ve been in relationships before, yeah? But nothing has felt like this. You make me feel like I can just... be myself. No pretenses, no masks.”

Y/n’s eyes softened, and she squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to try so hard, Paul. I like you for you. For the way you sing off-key when you’re cooking, the way you get passionate when you talk about football, and the way you’re always thinking about everyone else before yourself.”

Paul’s lips twitched into a grin. “Off-key? Really?”

She laughed, the sound light and melodic. “You’re not going to argue that point, are you?”

“Alright, fair,” he admitted, laughing along with her. The tension in the room seemed to dissolve, replaced by an easy comfort that came naturally to them.

They fell into a companionable silence, the only sound the faint murmur of traffic outside. Paul leaned back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked at her. “You’re really something else, Y/n,” he said softly.

She turned to him, her expression serious now. “So are you, Paul. Don’t ever forget that.”

He sat up, leaning closer until their faces were just inches apart. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Y/n’s heart raced, and she nodded, her voice caught in her throat. Paul closed the gap between them, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was both tender and electrifying. His hand cupped her cheek, and she melted into him, her fingers tangling in his curls.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other. When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting together.

“Was that alright?” Paul asked, a hint of shyness in his voice.

Y/n laughed softly, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “More than alright.”

He grinned, his dimples deepening. “Good. Because I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

The night unfolded slowly, each moment steeped in intimacy and laughter. They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories, dreams, and fears. Paul’s humor and warmth put Y/n at ease, and she found herself opening up in ways she never had before.

As the hours passed, they lay tangled together on the bed, their legs entwined. Paul traced lazy circles on her arm, his voice soft as he spoke.

“You know, Y/n, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy before. It’s like... everything makes sense when I’m with you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she pressed a kiss to his chest. “You make me happy too, Paul. Happier than I ever thought I could be.”

He tilted her chin up, his eyes searching hers. “Then let’s make a promise, yeah? To always be honest with each other, no matter what.”

She smiled, nodding. “I promise.”

Paul leaned down, capturing her lips in another kiss. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, as if they were trying to memorize the feel of each other. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in a bubble of love and trust.

His kiss deepened, his hands moving to cup her face, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. Y/n responded eagerly, her hands sliding beneath his shirt, exploring the contours of his back, her fingertips trailing along his muscles as if memorizing them.

Paul’s touch was tender but grew bolder with each passing moment, his hands slipping to her waist as he pulled her closer. “You feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice husky and thick with desire.

Y/n arched into him, her nails grazing his shoulders, sending a ripple of tension and pleasure through his body. “You feel incredible too,” she whispered back, her breath catching as his lips moved to the delicate curve of her neck.

Paul paused for a heartbeat, his intense gaze meeting hers. “I want you,” he said, his voice rough and urgent, filled with unspoken promises.

Her answer came in the form of a nod, her eyes wide and full of trust. “I want you too,” she managed, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Paul’s hands roamed her body with care and reverence, each touch deliberate, each kiss leaving her skin tingling. His shirt was the first to go, revealing the warmth of his skin beneath her palms. She marveled at the feel of him, her hands exploring the firm planes of his chest and back.

Their movements were unhurried yet purposeful, as if savoring every second. He eased her back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers, a perfect blend of strength and gentleness. Her fingers tangled in his curls as he kissed her deeply, their connection growing more intense.

Paul shed the remaining barriers between them with a mix of tenderness and urgency, his gaze never wavering from hers. “Are you sure?” he asked one last time, his voice soft but steady.

Y/n’s response was unwavering, her hands cupping his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He smiled, his expression filled with love and awe before he kissed her again. Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, their rhythm slow and deliberate at first, building into something more urgent and primal. Each touch, each kiss, brought them closer, their connection deepening with every passing moment.

Paul groaned softly, the sound vibrating against her skin as he buried his face in her neck. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his breath warm and ragged.

Y/n clung to him, her nails digging lightly into his back as her own gasps mingled with his. “You too,” she managed, her voice shaky but full of emotion. “You’re perfect, Paul.”

Their bodies moved in unison, fitting together as though they had always been meant to. Y/n arched into him, her body responding to his every movement. Paul’s kisses trailed from her lips to her collarbone, each one igniting a new wave of heat that coursed through her.

As their pace quickened, the intensity between them grew. Paul’s voice broke with emotion as he whispered her name, his hands cradling her as though she were the most precious thing in the world. Y/n responded with equal fervor, her own cries of passion filling the space between them.

When they reached the peak of their connection, it was as though time itself stood still. They clung to each other, their bodies trembling, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. Paul pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his arms wrapping around her as he held her close.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Y/n smiled, her head resting against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steady and comforting. “I think I’m the lucky one,” she replied, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

They stayed entwined, the warmth of their connection wrapping around them like a cocoon. The world outside faded into insignificance as they lay together, their connection deep and unspoken. Silence filled the room, but it wasn’t empty—it was charged with the weight of their emotions, their breaths syncing as they slowly came down from the high of their shared intimacy.

Paul shifted slightly, brushing a strand of hair from Y/n’s face. His expression was a mixture of tenderness and awe, as though he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

Y/n nodded, her lips curving into a small, content smile. “More than alright,” she whispered. “That was... everything.”

Paul chuckled quietly, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw. “You have a way with words,” he teased, his dimples flashing as his grin widened. “But I’m glad you feel that way.”

She let out a soft laugh, her hand resting against his chest. “I think you might be rubbing off on me, Mr. Poet.”

“Oh, is that what I am now?” he asked, arching a playful eyebrow.

She smirked, tapping his chest lightly. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Paul leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Too late,” he murmured against her skin, earning another laugh from her.

They lay together for a long time, their limbs tangled as if neither could bear to let go. Paul’s fingers lazily traced patterns on her back, while Y/n’s hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this close to someone,” Y/n admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paul’s arms tightened around her, pulling her closer. “Me neither,” he replied, his tone earnest. “You make everything feel... different. Like the world’s quieter when I’m with you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with emotion. “You make me feel safe. And seen.”

“You deserve to feel that way every day,” Paul said, his voice firm yet gentle. “And I’ll do my best to make sure you do.”

Y/n smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. It wasn’t driven by urgency this time—it was slow and full of promise, a silent vow that neither of them needed to put into words.

As the night stretched on, they talked in hushed tones, their conversation punctuated by soft kisses and bouts of laughter. The connection they shared went beyond words, beyond physicality—it was something deep and profound, a bond that felt as though it had always existed, waiting for the right moment to surface.

Eventually, exhaustion began to creep in, and they settled into a comfortable silence. Paul pulled the blanket over them, tucking her securely against his side.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.

“Goodnight, Paul,” she replied, her voice soft and sleepy.

With his arms wrapped around her and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek, Y/n felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. In this moment, everything felt perfect—like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

[lazysoulwriter]

Colors Of Passion - Paul Mescal.

feel free to send me requests! ✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

╭── ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ──╮

The modern art studio buzzed with a vibrant energy, a sanctuary filled with the intoxicating scent of acrylic paint and the soft rustle of canvas fabric. Sunlight poured in from large windows, illuminating the mess of color splatters that adorned the wooden floor. In the corner, a bold abstract painting came to life; thick strokes of cerulean blue bled into fiery reds and sunny yellows. At the center of this explosion of creativity stood (y/n), Paul Mescal’s girlfriend, her skin an alluring canvas herself, smudged with various bright colors, a reflection of her art.

Paul entered the studio, his presence causing a ripple of spontaneity. He stopped at the doorway, taking in the sight before him. (Y/n), lost in her world, was so engrossed in her painting that she didn’t notice his arrival. He watched her, captivated by the way she moved — graceful and confident, almost like a dancer. She dipped her brush into a pot of paint, her fingers expertly manipulating the vibrant hues, completely embodying the essence of the artist.

As he approached, her hazel eyes flickered up to meet his, a spark of recognition and joy igniting between them.

“Hey, you!” She exclaimed, brushing a streak of watery green from her forehead, unintentionally leaving a smudge across her cheek.

“Hey, Picasso,” Paul grinned, stepping closer, his tone teasing. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

“You have no idea,” she replied, laughter dancing in her voice. “But I think my art is starting to take over my body.”

Paul chuckled, refusing to break eye contact. She was a masterpiece in herself, and the thought brought a wave of longing rushing through him. “Perhaps it’s time for a little cleaning,” he suggested, his voice simmering with a playful undertone.

She tilted her head, a curious smile forming on her lips. “Oh? And how do you propose we go about that?”

His smile broadened, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I was thinking a bath...perhaps one we could share?”

The invitation hung in the air, charged with unspoken energy. (Y/N)'s breath hitched slightly, just enough for Paul to notice. “A bath, huh? You’d better hurry before I get more paint on me!”

Paul took a step closer, their bodies nearly brushing against one another. “I wouldn’t want to waste a single drop,” he whispered, his tone honeyed with intention.

With a giggle, she placed her paintbrush down and wiped her hands on a nearby rag, inadvertently smearing more colors across her skin. “Lead the way, handsome.”

They moved to the adjoining bathroom, the contrast between the chaotic studio and the serene space palpable. Paul filled the tub, the warm water sloshing gently against the porcelain. As steam began to rise, he turned to find her standing just outside the door, hesitant yet exhilarated. Paint still clung to her as if the colors were part of her skin.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” she breathed, laughter punctuating her words as she stepped closer, her bare feet silent on the cold tiles.

“You’ll love it,” Paul promised, stepping behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. “Just think of it as... part of your art.”

“You really think so?” she asked, leaning into his warm embrace, the heat from the water mixing with the warmth radiating from him.

“Absolutely. You’re like one of those mixed media pieces,” he murmured, planting soft kisses along her neck. “All you need is a little water to blend everything beautifully.”

She shivered at his touch, a wave of desire rushing through her. “Okay, let’s do it.” Her voice was a mix of challenge and invitation, and Paul could barely contain the excitement thrumming in his chest.

They slowly undressed, with each piece of clothing that fell, another layer of anticipation layered between them. Paul’s fingers danced over her skin, causing her to gasp and lean into him. The echoes of their laughter faded as the water began to fill the tub, its warmth inviting them into a world just for the two of them.

When they finally stepped into the water, the colors from her body swirled and blurred, creating a spectacle of vibrant hues in the steaming bath. Paul couldn’t help but admire how the bright colors contrasted with the pristine water. He slowly washed her arms, feeling the softness of her skin against his calloused fingers.

“You’re even more beautiful like this,” he whispered, his gaze intense as he met her eyes. The air was thick with unquenched desire, each stolen glance igniting sparks of passion. She smiled, her heart racing in response to his words.

“And you’re a hopeless romantic,” she teased, splashing water at him playfully, her laughter echoing against the tiles. Paul retaliated, leaning in closer until their laughter faded into something deeper. He ran his fingers through her wet hair, mesmerized by how the colors mingled and created new shades.

“Maybe, but it’s all part of the charm,” he murmured, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. “I’m glad I get to see you like this.”

(Y/N) felt the heat radiating from him, the way his breaths were quicker, the way his hands caressed her with purpose. “Maybe I should get messy more often if it brings you to me like this.”

With a playful smirk, she leaned closer, challenging him to show just how much he appreciated this art of theirs. The distance closed between them, breaths mingling as their lips finally met in a kiss that held both passion and tenderness. The water around them rippled as if celebrating their connection; they melted into one another, their bodies entwined in a dance as wild and beautiful as her paintings.

Between playful banter and lingering kisses, time ceased to exist. The studio echoed with their laughter and whispered confessions, the lines between art and affection blurring beautifully. Each moment was a brushstroke on the canvas of their relationship, rich with colors of love, spontaneity, and the pure joy of creating together.

As the bath became an expression of their intimacy, she whispered, “This might be my favorite piece yet.”

“Let’s make it a series,” Paul said, grinning. “Each one more colorful than the last.”

And as the evening light dipped below the horizon, they crafted memories and connections that would forever enrich their lives, an unspoken promise of a love as vibrant and expressive as the art that surrounded them.

[vampiricstoryteller]

(Isn’t it) Obvious

Hello everyone 👋🏾 this is my first fanfic in a long long time but I love Richter and Annette so much I just had to write something for them. I’m hella rusty but I hope a few of you find some enjoyment with this one.

All mistakes are my own

Warning: smut, cursing

Annette could admit to herself that she’d thought about kissing Richter more than once. He was a lot of things but unattractive wasn’t one of them. The stupid Belmont boy was gorgeous, with his sapphire eyes and soft brown hair; of course the idea of putting her lips to his has often come to the front of her mind.

There’d been nights when she couldn’t sleep and the snores of everyone around her weren’t their usual soothing noises of companionship; they echoed in her eardrums and reminded her of how unsettled she still felt here. How lonely she was despite being a part of a vampire hunting group. It was maddening.

Until her thoughts inevitably drifted to Richter, as they usually did. Whether he was laying next to her on the cold ground in a bedroll or an entire room away, the mere knowledge that he was close by brought a small bit of peace to her clouded mind.

She would think about laughing at his dumb jokes, fetching water with him from the closest river, sparring with him because he wasn’t afraid to actually throw a punch towards her. He was exciting to her, he made the tips of her fingers and toes tingle. And the space between her thighs ache.

Annette is less willing to admit that she’s been touching herself to thoughts of Richter lately. For the last three nights in a row, her hand has slipped under the fabric of her night clothes and sought out the hidden nub that sends spikes of pleasure crawling up her spine.

It’s embarrassing.

But it’s also one of the best feelings she’s been able to give herself in a long time.

The implications of what that means, however, are always waiting for her when her chest has stopped heaving and there aren’t stars bursting in her eyes anymore. Subconsciously she agonized over the possibility that her growing fondness for Richter Belmont would expose a part of her she never let anyone see before.

It’s why she invites him to come back to Haiti with her, and it’s why she’s currently sat on a bed too small for the two of them, kissing him and doing her best to crawl into his lap.

The kisses started out innocent. At least on Richter’s end. They were a declaration of their feelings for each other. A confirmation that he actually liked her and wasn’t just all talk. But innocent wasn’t what Annette was looking for.

They surveyed that final fight. She was on her way home with him, he agreed to follow her anywhere. And now she wants to do everything with him.

Richter’s hands on her waist pull her from her thoughts, their lips are still moving together and his tongue seeks permission into her mouth. She grants it to him happily, a small whimper escaping her throat when he squeezes her side and shifts her onto her back.

She likes kissing Richter, a lot. But she likes the pressure of his body weight on top of her even more. Her legs come up, thighs encasing him tightly and her ankles hooking together at the small of his back.

He grunts in surprise, breaking their kiss to stare down her with wide eyes and a new blush on his cheeks.

Distantly, Edouard’s angelic voice echoes off the walls of the small cabin. She sets a reminder on her mental day to day list to do something nice for her friend in the coming days.

“Annette.”

His breath fans across her face, reminding her how close they are. She smiles up at him, twisting her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes Richter?”

His lips twitch up when she says his name, a blush blossoming across his collarbone and neck; but he’s serious when he asks.

“You’re sure about this?” And then after a moment’s hesitation, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

She has.

Once.

Back when she’d been enslaved. She’d done it because she’d been curious to know what all the fuss was about and why her friends would risk punishment to for it. Not to mention it was one less thing she’d have to worry about being taken from her.

At the time, it hadn’t been impressive enough for her to put effort into making it happen again. Escaping, revenge and vampire hunting took up too much of her time to worry about shared kisses and affection between bodies.

“Annette?”

She blinks back into focus, meeting Richter’s gaze which has become concerned.

“I have once,” she says with a soft nod. “When I was enslaved.”

Richter frowns and shifts most of his weight to his left hand, the right one cupping her face. His thumb strokes her cheek, the rough pad somehow soothing to her. His skin still feels too warm, but she knows if she brings it up he’ll just insist he’s fine so she leaves it for now.

“That…..wasn’t against your will was it?” Richter asks.

“No!” Annette exclaims, wanting to quell any rising qualms Richter might be having that he could, by proximity, be doing something she doesn’t like or want.

Her hands leave his hair in favor of his shoulders, the muscles are thick underneath her palms and Annette bites back a moan of appreciation.

“It wasn’t by force,” She says firmly looking up onto his blazing blue eyes. “I was lucky. It was with a boy I worked in the fields with, I wanted to get it out of the way so my first time wouldn’t be taken from me.”

Richter’s brow un-furrows a bit, he lowers down enough to kiss her again. This one soft and sweet.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against her lips.

Annette smiles, kissing him harder and squeezing his hips with her thighs.

“Do not ruin the mood, Belmont.” She teases, satisfied when he laughs and doesn’t press farther about what things had been like for her before they’d met.

“Yes ma’am.” He grins and uses the hand holding her face to tilt her head back, exposing her neck to him.

His lips on her sensitive skin are like heaven, the sharp spike of his teeth nipping after every kiss makes Annette’s hips rock.

She runs a hand down his right arm, to join the one still holding her face. Slowly and purposefully Annette drags the large palm to her shoulder then collarbone, arching her back and sighing when he finally, finally, cups her breast through her top.

Richter squeezes, whether out of instinct or shock that he’s actually touching her Annette can’t be sure but she’s barely able to muffle the shout that tumbles from her mouth. She can feel him smirk against her neck, clearly pleased with the sounds he’s drawing from her.

Annette doesn’t care, each sharp wave of pleasure his hands are giving her is worth putting up with his growing ego.

“Richter.” She moans.

He crowds her against the bed, hand alternating between her breasts while his mouth suckles a bruise into the column of her neck and his hips ground into hers. Sweat gathers at the small of Annette’s back, her abdominal muscles burning as she holds the arch to keep as much of her body pressed against him as she can.

Her skirt is bunched at her hips, wrinkled between her and the bed from her insistent need to be moving with Richter. Despite the clothing between them, she can feel him growing harder every time they come in contact.

Richter’s nimble fingers pluck at the hem of her top questioningly, prompting Annette to nod and let her arms fall back onto the mattress above her head.

An open invitation.

His smile is practically blinding as he sits up just enough to hold his weight on his knees and place both hands on her waist. She stares at him while his thumbs stroke the smooth plains of her stomach, tilting her head curiously when suddenly a blush appears across his cheeks and chest.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks softly.

“How good I’m going to make you feel.” He rumbles, voice serious and low as he flexed his fingers, the tips digging slightly into her ribs.

Before she can think of a witty reply Richter slides his hands up, catching her top on the way and pushing it up over her head. He tugs it free of her arms, dropping the fabric to the floor; the soft thump of it hitting the ground is lost on Annette who can only focus on the sudden intensity of Richter’s gaze.

Heat burns at her cheeks and twists in her lower belly. She’s never been looked at like this before, the lustful adoration in his eyes makes her head spin.

“C-Can I touch you, Annette?”

She huffs, amused by him trying to remain respectful despite her bare breasts being on display and his hard dick straining his pants between her legs.

He’s adorable, but Annette needs more. She’s starting to crave it.

“I hope that’s the plan.” She snickers, hands finding his hair again. Scratching his scalp, she bites her lip. “Otherwise I’ve terribly misread the whole situation.”

Richter rolls his eyes, letting her pull him down into another kiss. His teeth meet her bottom lip and he nips at it playfully; two fingers finding one of her dark pebbled nipples and pinching.

Her eyes flutter shut, a breathless “yes!” racing from her mouth as she tugs on his hair.

It’s all the encouragement Richter needs.

Suddenly his hands are everywhere; kneading her beasts fully, gripping her chin to keep bring her in for sloppy kisses, squeezing her hips and petting her thighs. He bites at her neck, flicks his tongue along her collarbone, working his way down until he can suckle at her tawny brown nipples; lavishing them both with his tongue.

The sensation leaves Annette writhing and panting, she wants to wiggle away from the unrelenting pleasure but she also never wants Richter to stop what he’s doing.

He laps at the skin between her breasts, slicking it to the point it shines in the moonlight illuminating their cabin. At her hips, one of his hands pulls on the waistband of her skirt and Annette immediately lifts up to help him get the garment away from her body.

The oceanic breeze of the night air tickles her exposed flesh, cooling a bit of the humid haze she’d been drifting in. Annette blinks her eyes open, looking down to find Richter’s already staring at her; his pupils blown wide and near black with only a slim blue outer ring around his irises.

She traces his jaw line with her fingers, feeling his teeth clench together with restraint.

He looks hungry.

For nourishment she’s certain only she can provide.

Annette bites her lip hard at the thought, her legs falling open a bit to give him more room. They hold each other’s gaze while his fingers dance at her hip, dragging along the creased apex of her thigh.

He pauses, just before his searching fingers can make contact with the place she wants him most. She thinks he’s about to ask her if she’s okay or if he’s allowed to touch her but the Belmont boy surprises her once again. He simply grins at her, kisses her sternum and slips a finger between her soaking folds.

Annette chokes out a moan, her chest heaving as she sucks in a hard breath and her heels dig into the small of Richter’s back. She’s already embarrassingly wet, his long finger stroking from the bundle of nerves at the top down to her aching core over and over until she’s thrashing against him.

“R-Richter—please!”

She’s too far gone to care that she’s whining nor does she care that above her the object of her obvious distress only chuckles and presses a kiss to her clammy forehead.

“Please what?” He asks, watching her face intently. “Tell me what you want, Annette.”

This time her whine is unintelligible, a garbled mess of pleading that she can’t control. But it’s enough for him to grant her reprieve, the tip of his finger taps her opening—once—twice—and then he pushes the obscenely long digit inside of her and Annette shouts.

Her head falls back onto the mattress, her nails scratching at his sides and she tightens around him, already needing more. Richter growls, his finger stroking with the pace of her rocking hips,

“You’re sucking me right in, baby.” He whispers to her, a secret between them that is theirs only.

She whimpers, the sharpest spike of pleasure yet streaks down her spine and settles in her hips. No one has ever called her that before, there’s never been anyone she wanted to think they could have the privilege.

Though Richter is not like anyone else she’s ever met.

He pushes a second finger into her, a much tighter fit but an even better feeling. Annette grinds her hips into his hand without shame, shivering each time the heel of his palm bumps her slippery clit.

Impatience edges into Annette’s mind, her hands reaching down and pushes at the sleep pants he’d just changed into.

“Ta-Take these off,” she whimpers, one hand managing to shove the left side of his pants down his narrow hips.

Richter huffs out a laugh, slowly pulling his fingers from her and sitting up onto his knees. The movement forces her legs to fall open on either side of him, leaving her feeling exposed in a whole new way. Annette’s face burns and instinctively she tries to draw her knees together.

“Well now, that won’t do.” Richter says casually as he shoves his pants down his thighs before kicking them off onto the floor.

He hooks a hand under the crook of her left knee and tugs it out to the side, opening her back up to him.

“You’re beautiful, Annette.” He says sincerely, licking his lips as he settles back between her thighs. “Don’t ever hide from me.”

This time without his pants to keep him trapped against his own leg, his dick is hot and heavy dragging against her inner thigh. Annette slips one hand between them, her slender fingers wrapping around his shaft experimentally.

It’s Richter’s turn to shout, hips jerking when her thumb swipes at the pre cum leaking from his tip and smears it all over the head. Stroking him and twisting her hand at the same time, Annette works him until he’s painfully hard and throbbing in her hand.

She lifts her hips, hoping to guide him to the place she needs him to fill.

“Annette, baby, wait—.”

She smirks up at him, though her hand does go still.

“You have done this before right?” She teases, chuckling at the affronted look he gives her.

“I’m a Belmont, of course I have.” He grins for a moment then says a bit breathlessly. “It’s just never been with someone I cared this much about.”

One of his hands grips her side, the thumb stretching out to her belly button.

“I want this to be good for you, you deserve to feel good.” He tilts his head, eyes looking her entire body over. “You’re so small, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Annette isn’t expecting him to be that honest, especially not now when they’re moments away from their first becoming one. Another emotion spreads through her, not lust and not impatience but a new one that she’s not sure she’s ever felt before.

It’s in this moment that Annette realizes, she loves him.

She loved Richter Belmont, so much that her soul feels ablaze. She wants to scream from the bow of the ship up to the heavens that she has finally fallen in love. And it feels exactly the way her mother told her it would.

Safe.

Exciting.

Like home.

He is her home and she never wants to leave or be without him.

“Richter.” Her voice is soft and lightly. “I know you’d never hurt me, I trust you.”

She releases the grip she has on his, from what she can see, very pretty dick and plants that hand on his chest while the other cards through his soft hair.

“I want to do this with you, I want to feel good with you.” She says firmly. “Do you want to feel good with me?”

Richter nods, desperation filling the lines of his face as he kisses her cheeks, her nose, her chin and then finally slanted his lips over hers.

This kiss is different. His lips devour hers, nipping at her bottom one in a way that twists her hips and curls her toes. The passion he’s pouring into her feels different, it’s a promise, a dedication. To her. To them. To whatever they’re about to build together.

When Richter breaks for air, Annette lets her eyes flutter open and sucks in a sharp breath at the look of pure adoration in his eyes. If she didn’t know better, she would think she created the moon, the stars and the sky.

“I only want you,” he whispers into her mouth, lips tickling hers with the movement of each word. “In this life and the next and the one after. I want to be with you forever Annette.”

She smiles, “Good, because I really need you inside of me right now.”

Richter nods, kissing her again and adjusting their bodies so he can reach down between them. Supporting most of his weight on his forearm near Annette’s head, his fingers glide through her slick for a moment, collecting some of it to spread around the fat mushroom head before he takes hold of himself and lines the tip up, nestling it at her sopping wet opening.

Annette’s eyes slam shut and she pulls back to choke out a moan at the feeling just the tip has ignited inside of her. Above her, Richter stills and she thinks she might sob if he starts to move away.

Her hands fly up to the space where his shoulders and neck meet, the column thick between her hands.

“No Richter, don’t stop.” She wiggles her hips in an attempt to take him deeper, but his hand comes to rest over her lower stomach; effectively holding her in place with ease.

“Annette,” his breathing is labored, her name sounding rough in his throat. “Open your eyes.”

Above her head, his fingers twirl some of her individual locs and stroke at her scalp; Annette can’t help but to push her head up into his touch as she blinks up at him.

She’s never seen Richter look at anyone or anything the way he’s staring down at her now. His sapphire eyes are burning into her very soul, she is the sun and he is ready to pray to her for the rest of his life.

Annette licks her lips, pleased that his eyes tick down and follow the movement of her tongue, then says.

“If you stop now, Belmont, I will never forgive you.”

He laughs breathlessly, nodding. “I wouldn’t forgive me if I stopped right now either.” His finger tips massage her scalp, finding space in the new growth to really put pressure down and ground her.

Annette keens up into the feeling, a pretty groan of appreciation on her tongue.

His hand holding her still at the hips smoothes back around to the outer side of her thigh, gripping the flesh. Richter ducks his head, kissing her and holding her gaze as he murmurs into her mouth,

“Take a deep breath, baby.”

She does as he says without a second thought, gulping for air that he’s breathing into her. Richter smiles, rocking his hips forward and in the same motion, tugs her down onto his shaft slowly.

The feeling is delicious.

The stretch of his dick sliding into her cunt is exquisite, curling her toes and exploding stars in her vision. She’s barely aware of how her nails take down his neck and over his chest, leaving trails of red lines on his pale skin.

“R-Richter.”

He groans in response, his eyes closed and the tip of his tongue pressing into his top lip in concentration. Annette’s sure he’s never looked more beautiful than he does now. She clenches around him when he finally bottoms out, his hips meeting the back of her thighs.

“Fu—Fuck.”

Richter’s thrust start out tentative, his hips rolling experimentally and Annette finds herself lifting her own hips to meet him. Her arms wrap around his neck, holding him down so their chests are pressed together tightly. She rests her cheek against his and Annette darts her tongue out to lick at his ear.

“Please go faster, Richter.” She whines, digging her heels into his ass. “Please!”

Now confident, his hips pick up speed and the hand on her meaty thigh squeezes even tighter. Annette’s spine tingles at the thought of there being finger shaped bruises under her clothing tomorrow.

She clings to Richter as if he is her only life force, right now it feels like he is. The steady drag and pull of him inside her threatens to drive her insane, but Annette is happy to go there if it means keeping this feeling with him alive.

Richter sits back suddenly, onto his knees and the hand that was buried in her hair finds new purchase on her unattended thigh. He holds her open, his thrusts deep, hard and powerful; jerking her body back and forth along the bed.

“Annette,” he growls out, grunting in effort to not lose his rhythm. “You feel, so—so fucking good, squeezing me so tight.”

She nearly arched completely off the bed, his words stroking a very specific part of her brain. Digging her nails into the well carved muscles of his stomach, Annette closes her eyes and loses herself in the sensations.

“Richter!” She pants, eyes rolling in her head. “Don’t stop, please!”

“I won’t, baby.” He promises. “I’ll never stop.”

One hand leaves her thigh, his thumb finding her now puffy clit and strums it with intent, his hips keeping pace as he pounds into Annette.

She chants his name like a pray, one for every time his cock rams so deep inside of her she would swear she could feel him in her stomach. There’s a coil there, curling tighter towards her spine and Annette clamps around Richter in the hopes he can tap the right button that’ll give her what she wants.

He twists his hips down on the next few thrusts and Annette bites into his neck to muffle her scream as she explodes. She goes momentarily deaf, her body and cunt spasming while Richter works her through the life changing pleasure thats rippling through her entire body.

Every muscle she has is taunt and for a split moment Annette thinks his thrusts are going to snap her in half. And she would welcome that sensation with open arms.

Richter’s lips on hers brings her hearing back, the bed beneath them creaks steadily and their skin clapping together bounces off the walls. He licks inside of her mouth, his breath hot and ragged as he chases after the completion she just reached.

Annette holds him tighter, whimpering and mewling at a pitch she knows will root in his brain. Richter moans, losing the rhythm and his thrusts becoming erratic.

“Richter—“

He nudges her head to the side, sweat from his brow smearing against her temple.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.” He hisses, teeth clenched and his jaw strained, “I love you, Annette, I love you.”

Their hips meet hard three more times, the force jarring hiccup like moans out of her throat but Annette only care about riding out the spikes of unmeasurable pleasure that zip up and down her body.

Richter shudders above her, a roar erupting from his throat as he grinds into her with every last bit of strength he has. Annette whimpers, her face heating at the feeling of Richter’s cum flooding her with warm from the inside.

She watched him with half lidded eyes and massaging at the bite mark shes left in his skin. He slowly lowers down to rest on his elbows and hover over her, his blue eyes blinking open to look hazily down at her.

“A-Are you o-okay?” He asks panting.

She nods, offering him a smile as they both let their chests heave together;

“I’m great.” Annette confirms, lifting her head and kissing him sweetly. “Are you?”

Richter laughs, his eyes scanning her face a few times. “I think I had just had the best sex of my life.”

She bites her lip to keep her laughter contained. “Thats high praise indeed coming from you, Belmont.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He teases, kissing her cheek before he gently tilts her head by her chin and connects their lips again.

They only pull apart when Richter’s weight begins to numb Annette’s hips and torso, both of them shivering when he shuffles back and slips out of her completely.

Using the edge of the blanket hanging off the bed, Richter gently wipes away the mess he’s made between her thighs; the movement gently and caring.

They settle in the bed facing each other. The steady rock of the ocean and the waves crashing together lulls the two lovers into a comfortable silence.

Her fingers thread together at the nape of his neck, arms bent so he’s pulled close. His massive hands holding her waist, the weight of them on her more comforting to Annette than she ever thought possible.

Richter kisses her, exhaustion starting to sag his body into the mattress but his eyes remain open. She strokes his head with her thumbs, smiling at him when it’s clear he intends to fall asleep staring at her.

“So,” she whispers, seconds before they drifts off completely. “You love me, do you?”

His lips twitch up into a smile. Squeezing her sides, he nods sleepily. “Wasn’t it obvious?” He mumbles, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m all yours.”

The End

🫣 hope y’all liked it, pls like and reblog if you did ❤️

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 9: His angel girl

genre: comfort, smut (minor do not interact!!)

word count: 5902

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you two take a step into getting back to normal... or at least trying.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

would like to welcome all the new readers and to dedicate this chapter to the beautiful @starofthedawn who's been reading and commenting on my chapters since the beginning <3 thank you for your undying support love! means the world!

“Happy Monday!” 

You want to shoot her in the head. You want to turn around, grab Officer Kaper’s gun from his holster, and shoot her in the head, and you want to stop wanting to shoot her in the head. For someone who probably had the most magical Sunday of her life, you are not in such great mood once the consequences of sleeping a total of two hours sets in. Spencer deals with it much better than you, and you wince just remembering how snippy you were when he woke you up with the same kisses that had you moaning just hours ago. Lucky for you, though, he only laughs and pushes a full mug of coffee your way. Spencer knows you well despite the little time you two have been living together. But then again, if he really tries, Spencer would know anyone well. 

“Ah, happy Monday,” You say, shooting Officer Kaper a look that has him snorting. “Did you have any questions about the starter email? Sorry it wasn’t super in depth, it’s my first time hiring someone to help me.”

“That is absolutely okay, I’m sure I can learn a lot from you today!” 

It should be exciting, finally having the store open full time and with help to keep it functioning, but you’re just so exhausted that you can’t find it in you to be your usual cheery self. Not when just hours ago, you were feeling like you had endless energy, charging through Spencer’s touches. 

After JJ left his apartment, quite begrudgingly, you must admit, you two finally have some time to breathe. It sounds cliche, really, cheering for the moments you two can be together without an audience, but lately, there has been so few of them that it’s almost impossible to not turn selfish when they come about. And my god, are you selfish then… Spencer can’t move to the kitchen without you following him. But to your credit, he doesn’t seem to be all that comfortable with moving away from you either, and that is how you two end up in his room, digging through his mismatched socks drawer with so much gusto that it might just look like you found the long lost treasure of Atlantis. 

“You have no matching socks!” You giggle, shivering a little when you feel his presence behind you. His breath hits your nape, and Spencer drops a gentle kiss there. “Sweetheart, do I need to buy you socks?” 

“No,” He mumbles and just by the tone of his voice you know he’s distracted with dragging his lips through your neck, biting, kissing, grazing. Spencer is having his own fun with you, one that has nothing to do with the fact that your feet are freezing and his heater seems to be giving up on getting his apartment at a liveable temperature. When you ask him to look into it, he chuckles and tells you that he can fix it, that he will fix it. This, however, doesn’t look like he’s fixing it. “But you can keep calling me sweetheart.” 

Cocking your head to the side, giving him more space to work his magic. Something inside of you keens at the way he grabs at your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you there with a demanding attitude that is new and welcome, and you wonder if this has anything to do with how he finally spoke out. Taking control of a situation is always somewhat of a thrill, and you think Spencer is basking in his newfound confidence by pushing it a little further.

Not that you are complaining. Much to the contrary– a sharp exhale leaves your lips the moment he brushes those teasing lips on the junction of your neck and your shoulder, and you can feel the way he smirks, doing it again just to draw a whine out of you. “Spence,” Your voice goes all high pitched with the way he adds pressure with each kiss, the way his hands slide from holding you by the waist to encircling you completely. “Spence, what are you doing?” 

His chuckle sends another wave of shudders through you. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me,” He whispers back, taking one step, then another, and another, until your knees push against the edge of his mattress and his kissed turn into light suckles travelling all around. At this point, you get yourself ready for the bruises you can feel blooming on your skin. “I’m never letting anyone take you away from me, I promise, angel. My angel girl…”

One day, when you think back to this moment, you’ll blame the ‘my angel girl’ for the way you so quickly clambered up to bed, hands grabbing him by that tie he insists on wearing even inside the house and tugging him down with a force you’ll probably never be able to conjure ever again. You’ll blame the ‘pretty girl’ and the ‘my Y/N’. You’ll blame the way his eyes plead, oh so quietly but never subtly, for you to get closer, to kiss him harder. You’ll blame him and his pretty lips, his pretty skin, his pretty legs. 

Everything about his is pretty, and you can’t help the excitement growing in you with each button undone. Oh, the amount of times you’ve dreamt of unbuttoning these shirts he religiously wears, uncovering inch of skin by inch of skin, dropping a kiss in every new bit of him that you get to see. Spencer is not as quiet as you thought he’d be– he rambles, and pants, and moans, and you smile because you know you’re the one dragging these sinful noises out of him, and you know that this show is all for you and you only. Spencer is not far behind though, and his hands are as equally busy– they pull, tug, rip, unzip; they do all they can until you’re left in your mismatched underwear and him, only in his boxer briefs. For some odd reason, you’re slightly disappointed that his tight underwear, outlining those beautiful thighs of his, are not purple. 

It’s cute, how his cheeks blush when his eyes land on your breasts, even if they seem stuck there for a while. “Spence,” You whisper, hand raising to caress his cheek. You are blushed yourself, redness going down your neck and chest, but you don’t mind it much, not when he seems to follow down the path of shyness you’ve created like it was the map to heaven. “Spence, is… is this okay?” 

“So much more than okay,” Spencer whispers back, face turning gently to kiss the palm of your hand cupping his cheek. “Is this okay for you?”

“So much more than okay,” You agree, smiling wide and pulling him down for another ravenous kiss. Like an instinct, your legs move to wrap around his waist, squeezing until every bit of him presses against every bit of you. 

And then you feel him, hot and heavy, and you exhale a sharp breath that has him jumping, trying to put some distance between you two as if he had somehow hurt you. “Are you okay?! Are you–“ You shut him up effectively with one more pull by the legs, hips dragging your heart against him and having him exhale as sharp as you. 

Raising your brow in a silent challenge, you mutter, “Are you okay?” With every word your lips brush against his and for once, in a long, long time, you feel good about yourself. You feel powerful, in command… sexy. The last time a man looked at you the way Spencer is looking at you had been years ago, and it hadn’t even been Josh. Josh never looked at you like that, like you could solve all his issues and pains with just one kiss, no, no; Josh looked at you like a challenge. A task. An objective. You never want to be looked at like that ever again. 

No. For the rest of your life, all you want is for Spencer to look at you like he’s doing right now. Specifically him, because if it’s not coming from those melting, honey eyes, you don’t want it. “Oh,” You breathe out, too lost in your head to have felt his hand moving upwards from your waist to sneak under your bra, nimble fingers squeezing it in an experimenting feel. From the way he bends down to kiss you, other hand rushing to unclasp the garment and throw it somewhere in the room, it must feel really fucking good. He takes it to a whole other level, though, when his lips– those lips you adore so much, that you spent hours watching move and talk and lecture– wrap around a perk nipple. “Oh, Spence…”

Sex is incredibly intimate for you. Is an act of giving and taking and giving back, and it’s a constant exchange that leaves you floating, on good times; on bad ones, it makes you feel as heavy as a rock. Just from his kisses alone you already feel weightless, so you know that from now on, there is only great things coming. Great things like how he grinds his hips down on you, catching onto your most sensitive spot again and again and again, and you’re not sure when was it that you desperately pulled his boxers down, but when you come back to yourself, climbing down from the building pleasure of having Spencer humping you like an uncontrolled teenager, you have him stark naked… and you’ll dream of this for the rest of your life. 

Naked Spencer is not the most confident, but he’s not coy about it either. In all fairness, you don’t think his brain, usually brilliant and expansive and now working in a one-track mind, is able to juggle a lot at the moment, and you chuckle at how awkwardly endearing he looks. One hand moves to push his hair our of his face, basking into the way he smiles at you, so brightly and larger than life. “You’re beautiful,” You whisper, forehead resting against his. “So beautiful…” 

“I’m afraid that would be you, darling angel,” Spencer kisses you quickly rubbing his hands on your arms, your back. “So pretty for me… all mine.” 

“All yours,” You agree, arching into his touch. It’s not possessiveness that you catch in his voice, but desperation. Fear. Need. Spencer is not dominating you, he’s not taking and taking and taking; he’s simply going along with a pace that is set by the both of you. You two are like water, moulding to each other, soft yet strong. No one has more power than the other, and no one commends nor obeys. This is a collaboration of two weirdly shy people trying to push past their natural hesitations to make something beautiful. 

Your hand slides down his chest, between your bodies, and grabs a hold of his cock. For a man that despised touch, Spence let out an eager groan, pushing his hips up towards your touch, and you whine. You want to be touched too, and he catches on instantly. Your sweet profiler, reading you even when his eyes could barely focus on yours. “So good,” He said, clumsy mouth trying to kiss yours while speaking. “So fucking good.” 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get better, Spencer curses, the word so foreign to him that you can’t help the rush of excitement that runs through you right there and then. Spencer knows, too, with how he gently slides his hand under your panties, finger diving into your wetness shamelessly. “So fucking good.”

There is not embarrassment in how loudly the sounds your body makes echoes in the room. Mixed with both your breathing, your moans, and the way your skin hits so perfectly, the sound of your eagerness is just another instrument in the symphony of you guys’ pleasure. “Spence, come on,” You whine again.

When you try to push your underwear down your legs, Spence gently slaps your hand away, tutting at you with a glint of mischievousness. Instead, he hooks his own fingers on the sides of it and makes a point of dragging it down as slow as possible. By the time he has your legs up in the air and finally gets it off of you, you are wiggling in place. “Stay still,” He gently admonishes you, nipping at your ankle that rests on his shoulder. It’s almost like Spencer is adamant on killing you slowly, keeping you teetering at the edge of a precipice created by him and him only. It’s up to him to push you over. Safe to say, with the way his lips slowly move from you ankle, down your legs, inching closer and closer to where you want him the most, you are as good as dead already, now it was all about enjoying the ride. “I want to make sure I commit this to memory.” 

“Y-You have an eidetic memory, S-Spencer– oh my god,” Your voice wobbles a little at the first touch of his mouth to your folds. Despite your… occasional dirty dream of Spencer, you had no expectations for this at all. After your conversation with Penelope, it was obvious that your beautiful nerd hadn’t had the most common teenage-hood. He had never experienced those marks of growing up– had never made out under a bleacher, never passed notes to his friends during class, never put a sock on the door of his dorm. Besides Lila and Maeve, you know nothing about his past relationships, and you found Lila’s name because of an article that leaked a photo of them kissing on a pool. Sure, you weren’t all that glad to now have the picture of Spencer kissing someone else ingrained in your brain, but it made you happy to know he had people appreciating him for all he is, before you. 

So safe to say it surprises you to know that Spencer knows how to use his mouth, and knows it well. Part of you wants to look at him, watch him eat you out like the starved man he apparently is and try, your damned hardest, to never forget it. Unlike him, you’re but a mere human that, at the moment, is so lost in pleasure that you’re not even sure if you remember your name. Doesn’t take long to have you shaking in his hands, legs trembling around his head and hips pinned down by his hands. “Let go,” Spencer whispers, opening his eyes just for a second, just to catch a glimpse of your face as he licks you whole, just right until he’s able to wrap those lips– those sinful lips– around your clit. That is your undoing, and before you can even warn him, your thighs snap closed around his head and you cum, moaning Spencer’s name like he is the prayer that will keep you alive. 

“Hmmm,” He brings you back to life with the soft little trail of kisses he drops on his way back up. In his tongue there are traces of you, of your taste, of your soul, and you are addicted with well it mixes with him. “You truly are sweet, angel.” 

“And tomorrow, I’ll figure out how sweet you are,” It’s a promise and one that you full intend to keep, though right now you truly think you will go insane if you don’t feel him like how you’ve been yearning to all night. “But right now, I really need you to–“

“To what?” He asks when your voice dies down, suffocated by the sudden feel of his cock rubbing against you just right. “Hm? What do you need, angel girl? Tell me and I’ll do anything for you…” 

Seeing Spencer so lost in pleasure is something new. His hair looks wild and his eyes are hungry and curious, focused on you and you only. He catches every reaction, every little twitch of your hips, every breathy whine; Spencer memorises everything. This will be stored in a little box inside his head, for those nights alone in strange hotel rooms in even stranger cities. For the afternoons with too little work and too many insecurities clouding his head. For the mornings when you leave before him and he can’t make you whine his name like you’re doing right now. His name… my god, his name is all he wants to hear coming out of your mouth; his name and those little gasps that send jolts of electricity up and down his spine. When you look up at him, arms going around his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss Spencer is smiling. It’s bright and wide and true and you think– no, no you know– and you know you’re falling in love with this man. 

You hike a leg up his waist, brushing yourself all over him, and you smile back. It doesn’t last long, though, because Spencer chooses that moment to push inside of you, biting your shoulder in a failed attempt to hide the guttural groan rising up his throat. “Holy shit,” You mumble, eyes threatening to close. This is all very overwhelming– in the best way possible, surely, but still overwhelming. There is the sting of stretching grounding you, but it quickly dissolves into a pleasurable burn and you are sure you’re experiencing the best of both worlds, floating in an in-between space midway to heaven from Earth. 

Ever since Cat found out your name, you’ve been living in fear. Every day, every night, you can feel the thrumming of anxiety running through your veins– sometimes stronger, like your heart is about to beat itself out of your throat, and sometimes weaker, more of a hum in the back of your ribs; but it’s always there. 

Except for now. 

Right now, you feel nothing. 

You are drowning in a world of silence, in a motionless state of being… 

…until Spencer snaps his hips at you again and you feel more than you’ve felt your entire life. 

You feel alive.

On fire. 

Burning. 

Like every nerve in your body has been ignited, like your brain is working overtime, like the air in your lugs have been punched out of your body. 

You feel so much that you can’t even begin to put into words. But you don’t have to speak, not when Spencer whispers those sweet nothings into your ear as if he’s not filthily moving his hips and driving himself so deep into you you basically see start. “So pretty, my angel,” He whines, mouthing at your neck. “So good for me, feels so good, pretty girl. So perfect.” In his words, promises lay unsaid. Promises of love, adoration, fondness. Promises of kindness, gentleness, safety. “I got you, Y/N, I got you. I promise.” 

Nodding, you let your nails drag down his back, the sounds of it all getting a bit too much for you to handle. Spencer’s hoarse voice, the slap of his skin on yours, the breathy moans he lets out; everything seems to be getting to you, and you hope this never ends. You hope to feel like this for the rest of your life, like you don’t have to have a single worry in life, because Spencer’s got you. 

“Spencer,” You cry out, pulling him for a sloppy kiss. You two are a mess of tongues and teeth and lips and the more he fills you up, the more he pushes into the you, the more you’re willing to fall, fall, fall… and you so you fall. “Oh! Spencer!” 

Your orgasm washes over you like a crashing wave, approaching fast and silently but crashing loudly once it hits shore. It’s a surprise to you and apparently to him too, from how he groans the loudest he has so far. You tense up for a second or two or three or maybe even an eternity, squeezing around him oh so perfectly, enough to make him falter, arms giving out and almost having his whole body crash onto you. In his own desperation to cum, Spencer speeds up in such a delicious way that it feels like you’re in a never ending downward spiral, pussy fluttering around him until he pushes into you one last time. “Y/N…” Spencer moaned, keeping himself quiet with how hard he bites your neck, tensing as he let his pleasure wash over him in jerky movements of his hips before completely stopping.

Slowly but surely, he pulls out of you, laying by your side looking completely spent with a lingering hand on your waist. Takes him a bit, but eventually, Spencer gathers enough strength to pull you to him, kissing your forehead lovingly. “You’re… everything,” He breathes out, eyes running over your face to commit it to memory, to engrave it in a type of forever that only he knows. His own forever. You are his very own forever.  “Is it too corny to say thank you?” 

You laugh and look up at him. “Depends,” Cuddling closer, you let your lips graze over his ear. “Are you thanking me for a job well done?”

“Hmmm,” His chuckle reverberates through you. “A job very well done, sweetheart, yes.” 

“Then no, it’s not corny,” You giggle, trowing a leg over his waist. “But as an academic, I don’t think your sample is large enough to be reaching any conclusions yet, doctor.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not concluding anything yet,” Spencer shivers a little at your teasing joke, eyes darkening in a way that is surely becoming familiar to your. His little smile is enough to have you pushing yourself closer to him, kissing his neck gently. “I am making an inference. An inference is an educated guess, and based on that, I form a hypothesis.”

“And what’s your hypothesis here, doc?” 

Clearing his throat, Spencer lets out a breathy hum and tugs you on top of him, thighs on each side of his waist so he can run his hands up and down your beautiful skin. “I think I need a bit more… education first, if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh?” Cocking your head to the side, you smile brightly at him. “And how will you embark in this search for knowledge?” 

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you how, angel girl.” 

In ten minutes he was kissing you all over again, muttering your name like a mantra. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps up to look at Abigail again, cheeks blushing when you realise where your mind had just gone. “Yes? Sorry Abi, what did you say?” 

“We have a consumer, could you help me with the cashier system?” And when Abigail smiles, you’re back to your sour mood. Honestly, you feel for her– you feel like a massive bitch who hates on a girl for absolutely no reason, but considering everything that’s been happening, her enthusiasm sending you for a loop.

“Of course!” Doesn’t mean you won’t still try and be a good boss. This is, after all, a place of business. Walking to her, you guide your new store manager through everything she needs to know; the cashier system, the ordering and cataloguing inventory, the filing system on the shelves. Much to your dismay, Abigail is a quick learner and she’s eager to help, jumping into the action as soon as a client walks into the store. You’re quite grateful for that, now having time to actually focus on the administrative tasks you’ve been putting away for ages, and when the time comes to close the store, you look at her with the friendliest smile you can handle under the current exhaustion and soreness that took over your body overnight. “You did great,” You promise, locking the door behind you. “Honestly, I could already work that much better with you handling everything, thank you very much.” 

“It was my pleasure!” Abigail smiled. “Will I be given a key for the days you’re not coming in?” 

You didn’t think that far, but the thought made you shift a bit uncomfortably. Giving her entrance to the bookstore so freely means you’re giving her entrance to your apartment just upstairs. And besides Officer Kaper and the BAU team, no one knows where you live. The goal is to keep it that way. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it, for a while I intend on coming in every day to make sure your introduction to the store is smooth and seamless!”

“Sounds perfect!” When you finish locking the door, you turn around to find her waiting with an expectant expression. “I uh, I don’t mean to bother you boss, but how about some drinks to celebrate the first day? You can come over now that I’m fully decorated!”

The invite is kind, and as much as you really want to go home and kiss your boyfriend silly, you can’t. You can’t tell her no, not again and again and again, and to your surprise, and hers, you nod. “Yeah, why not? You deserve it. Should I stop at the store to buy anything?” 

Quickly shaking her head, Abigail starts guiding you both back to the building calling your name. At least she lived a total of one floor away from Spencer. “No, no, I have everything back home to make some mojitos.” 

“Then we’ll order some pizza,” You chuckle, following her inside and up the stairs. “On me!” 

“Deal!” 

Her apartment is strangely familiar. It looks a lot like Spencer’s, though you can’t help but miss the muted shade of green that adorn his walls, surrounded by a bright pit of white instead. Everything about her place screams single female; the neutral furniture, the romance books piling by the sides of the couch, the quirky decorations that bring some type of colour to the room, and the obvious excessive amount of throw pillows everywhere. “Sorry for the mess,” Abigail chuckles, closing the door behind you and immediately trying to organise the living room. But you see the charm in how it is, and you don’t really mind being in a house that looks like someone lives in. 

“Don’t worry about me,” You wave at her. “I like being in a house that feels like a home.” 

“Have you ever considered being a writer?” The question makes you laugh. “Sometimes you say some very poetic things and I swear they would sound great in a book.” 

“I’m happy selling other people’s books,” Is all you give her, shrugging at her suspicious glance. “So… Pizza?” 

You don’t want to admit it, but at one point, you start having fun. It’s right after the awkward talking time and just as the pizza arrives that you two start laughing together, giggling at crazy stories from her old jobs. For a moment, this feels right– feels like what a girl’s night should feel like, with the gossiping, the drinks, the greasy food, and the shitty romance movie playing in the background without you paying attention to it, besides a couple of comments on how Jude Law is so cute. “…And then he wrote his number on the receipt and gave it to me! The audacity!”

Abigail has just finished telling you the story of how she met her ex and you chuckle, shaking your head. “Honestly, I lucked out with my customers. You’ll see that soon, but so far, everyone’s been incredible. I had some horror stories from the stores I worked at back in Manhattan, but thankfully they haven’t followed me here.” 

“Hmm,” Abigail is sitting in front of you, happily munching on her food while she squints at you. “Is that how you met Spencer Reid?”

You choke on a bite of crust and the way you have to wash it down with your mojito is ridiculous. The alcohol burns through your throat but at least you can breathe better. “Uh, Spence?”

“Yeah, Spencer Reid,” Abigail chuckles. “The neighbour upstairs. Your… something. Is he your boyfriend? You never really clarified.” 

Blushing, you nod. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend,” Saying those words out loud feels surreal, like you have suddenly added a seal of authentication to it all. “We’ve been– We are dating.” 

“Oh,” This is the least enthusiastic you’ve seen her all night, and something tickles your brain. Is she disappointed that you two are officially dating? Is she into Spencer?! “Good to know. Uh, did you meet him at the store?” 

“Yeah,” The mood quickly turns upside down and tension settles where laughter previously occupied. “We’ve been friends for a while, though, and I uh, I used to watch his apartment while he was out of town for work and he’d bring me books and–“

“Is he out of town a lot?” This. This is exactly why you always feel weird next to Abigail– her invasive questions. “For work, that is.” 

“I–“ What are you supposed to say to that? Yes. He travels regularly and I’m constantly vulnerable and alone at his apartment? Absolutely not. “I mean, sometimes, but he can take cases from home.” 

“Cases? What does he do again?” 

“Oh,” You need to change the subject right now. “Spencer, he uh, he works with–“ 

You are not sure why you don’t want to tell her the truth, but you and Spencer had never discussed a story, a cover up; but then again, you two had never discussed being separated. A certain level of codependency has instilled thanks to the current situation, and it just makes sense to assume you’d always be together in social situations. 

“Because Officer Kaper also knows him, right? He said something back at the store, and I was curious.” 

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Abigail is the one who will kill you. Cat knows Spencer works for the BAU, why would her partner be kept in the dark? Logically, nothing about this makes sense, and you might be overthinking and overreacting, but telling her about Spencer’s private life still feels wrong. Dirty. Like you’re breaking his trust just with a couple of words. 

Gulping, you nod, looking around with a nervous chuckle. “He uh, he works in a governmental agency,” Taking a deep breath, you think of semantics, of words that mean the same thing but can be as vague and open-ended as possible. “Some team I forgot the name. You know how those things are, you can be as close as possible with someone and still not be able to tell what they do for a living.” 

Her laughter is enough to have you breathing easier. “Oh my god! I so know what you mean… but when you really like someone, I think you remember the little things you know. Or at least I do. I still remember that book you mentioned on our first interview–“ Shuffling to grab something behind her, she shows you the cover of the book you mentioned a while back. “I’m halfway through and it’s absolutely incredible!” 

Holding back the impetuous Spencer remembers everything that you so badly want to throw at her, you just chuckle. With every word Abigail speaks, it feels like she’s throwing a dig at either Spencer or your relationship with Spencer, and you’re not sure which one makes you angrier. “I’m glad you like it,” You say, and the buzz of your phone saves the day. It’s been buzzing for a bit, but you didn’t mind checking it much while you were having fun. Now that things have gone a tad south, you can’t wait to come up with an excuse to go home. “Sorry, let me just– oh��� Abi, I’m sorry, but I think I need to go home.” 

3 missed calls. 8 new messages. All from Spencer. Quickly helping her clean everything, you smiled. If this is going to work, you need to put in as much effort as Abigail is. You need to stop being afraid. You need to be honest with her. You need to do a lot… but not tonight. Tonight you’ve done enough. 

“Thank you again for having me, this was actually fun,” You smile, giving her a quick hug before opening the door and stepping out onto the hallway. “We can go to work together tomorrow, if you want! Text me when you’re about to leave?”

“Oh!” That is enough to have her smiling wide. “Yes! Amazing, I will!” 

One last wave and you’re running up the stairs, unlocking Apartment 23 with the key Spence gave you. “I’m so sorry!” You call out as soon as you’re inside, bag and shoes dropped by the door as soon as you spot him sitting on his couch. “Spence, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you I was hanging out with Abigail after work and she made mojitos and we got pizza and–“

“Hey, hey hey hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Getting up, he walks to you and cups your cheeks, eyes searching for… something… in yours. “You’re okay?” 

“I’m okay. Better now, but okay,” You mumble back, kissing his lips gently as a reassurance. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was going to Abigail’s.” 

“You should’ve,” Spencer sighs, nodding with a small smile. “I was really worried… But then I called Garcia and she pulled the cameras, so I knew you were downstairs.” 

“Uh… Babe, I don’t know if that’s the best use of–“

“I don’t care, I was going out of my mind,” His arms squeeze you closer and he hides his face on your neck. “I know you can’t be here 24/7, and we talked about you going back to work, but… but let’s try and let each other know where we are more often? Just while this Cat thing is not solved, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree. Your lips press against his forehead lovingly. “Yeah, I’ll do better.” 

“Thank you, angel. Did you have fun?” 

“I did, for a while. But then Abigail started asking some… personal questions and I just– it sets me off, I don’t know why,” You are clearly frustrated with yourself, sighing and letting your body fall on the couch. In a beat, your arms open for him, inviting Spence to lay with you for a moment. “She asked where you work. I said a ‘governmental agency’ and I don’t know why I feel like I need to hide you from strangers, like she’s going to try and do something to you if she finds out details about your life.” 

When he lays down, you curl into him. “You’re protecting me, and that is really cute,” Spencer clarifies. “Maybe she’s just desperate for a friend, you know? I certainly have been there before, it can make you lose a bit of that common sense that should kick in and hold you back from putting your foot in your mouth, or any other idiot expression people use.” 

“Could be,” Truth be told, you don’t want to talk about Abigail anymore. You don’t want to think about Abigail, you don’t want to think about Cat, you don’t want to think about anyone but Spencer. 

You want to bask in your silence. In you quietude. 

You want to feel normal again. 

This feels normal again. 

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you today.” 

Yeah… when he giggles; when he kisses your cheek, your neck, your shoulder; when he mumbles excitedly about his day… it all feels normal. 

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

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[hivemuthur]

If it’s okay to request, may I request hcs or something with Viktor where he’s dating an autisc reader?

Okay, first of - I have no idea what I have done to be granted such trust, thank you so much Anon! I have been provided amazing advice from @rennethen while writing this and done some research and I hope, I hope, I hope it meets expectations.

ViktorXAutistic!Reader HeadCannons

viktorxgn!reader mature, fluff and again: Viktor setting impossible standards for real-life men

author’s note: I have decided to not include tics, as they come in so many variations and I didn't want to impose anything upon Readers, but I can imagine Viktor being a total sweetheart about them.

word count: 1,4K

—

Since your first meeting, Viktor has been smitten with your bluntness and your ability to take his acrimonious jokes apart without a hint of incredulity in your voice. The way you keep asking subsidiary questions until you dig through the layers of his sass to the actual thing he meant to say  leaves his soul naked as day, every single time. Finally, an inquisitive mind, he thinks to himself, as you go for the killing blow:

“So, what you’ve meant to say is that you find me attractive?”

“Eh, I suppose that is what I meant,” he admits dumbly, scratching the back of his neck. “Though usually I tend to be a little bit less straight forward.”

“I prefer straight forward,” you tell him with wide eyes.

“I… I shall remember that.”

Viktor soon realises that being asked a lot of questions makes him blush in a funny way and his chest gets all fuzzy. So, he begins to share every little aspect of his work with you. The more questions you ask, the warmer his heart gets and somehow the way you get excited about his ideas is worth more than any other academical pat on the back he ever received.

Before asking you out for the first time, Viktor conducts a thorough research, not very different to the ones he conducts for the sake of a thesis. He finds out what are your favourite places and favourite spots to sit. He books two reservations, just in case.

He does the same thing when you try out a new place. Just in case. It has proven useful only once.

As a man who values routine, he finds it absolutely endearing that good things remain in your orbit for a long time and discovers that being greeted with his own name by the barista is actually a nice little feeling.

When he asked you if he could kiss you for the first time, he held his breath while you were reconsidering. He found it hard not to laugh stupidly and nod his head a couple times too many when you responded with the same question.

He cupped your face and brushed his thumb on your lip tentatively. At first, he just rubbed his nose against yours. Then, his cheek, as he pulled you closer. You decided his hair smelled nice and that he could proceed. You didn’t know what to do with your hands at first, because he was wearing an incredibly itchy jumper, so you settled on his neck, and he took it as an invitation to kiss you deeper.

When you told him about it he gave the jumper to Caitlyn, and even though the sleeves are not long enough for her, she wears it often. Gradually, Viktor is in the process of exchanging his wardrobe to touch-friendly materials, currently he is half-way through. He wears the offensive clothes to meetings with Jayce, because Jayce will hug even a hedgehog.

You teach Viktor the value of comfort, not just in the clothing department. Suddenly he finds that his blankets are softer and that his flat increased the base number of cushions.

He religiously cuts the tags out of your clothes and his work is so precise it’s as if the tag was never there in the first place.

Viktor will still periodically ask for a permission to touch you, only to hear “Yes, please.” And it still makes him blush.

He keeps two notebooks—one on your current food fixations. He writes down a start date of each and marks every little alteration. He examines the lifecycle of each dish, as you eat it every day for a month and suddenly stop, to move on to the next one. On the back of the notebook he has a list of old reliables.

The second notebook, he treats more seriously—it’s a journal of stimming. He makes a note of each gesture in order to recognize your emotions better. After a while he is able to tell if you are feeling overwhelmed, just excited or trying to concentrate.

He is completely bemused by the fact that you always know what entered the bowl first—the cereal or the milk.

When you unconsciously repeat words back at him in his accent he makes it intentionally heavier, because he finds in unbearably cute.

After some time, he’s learned to recognise when you are masking. When it happened for the first time, he allowed himself a pinch of panic. Only when you unravelled at home, he sighed, partially relieved, and made a note of it in his journal.

Viktor carries a pair of noise cancelling headphones when you go out together. He puts them on you if you get overstimulated and presents you with something else to shift your focus into—a tight hug, a smell or he presses gently on your shoulders to steady you.

If you happen to have a meltdown at either of your homes, he wordlessly prepares you your favourite food and stays close enough for you to reach. Sometimes, he does a full body scan with you, to see which part requires the most attention.

There are certain sounds that Viktor makes which you particularly like—the click of his tongue, the intercepting ‘ehs’ and ‘ahs’—and once he connects the dots between him making those and a smile that always blooms on your face, he produces as many as he can, while still sounding natural.

He enjoys just existing with you. Sitting in the same room, while he works, and you read is his definition of a happy place. Just glancing over to you, your tongue filling your cheek as you read something particularly interesting, the small sounds you make at turning points in the story make his heart flutter.

He finds himself involuntarily memorizing the lyrics of the songs you play on repeat. He has no idea who the artist are, but he knows their songs by heart now. It makes him feel old, in a funny way.

It completely disarms him, when you return his gifts. After three futile attempts to give you something of popular romantic demand, he scolded himself for not changing the method soon enough. Instead of jewellery, he encourages your special interests, through getting you books on the topics or taking you places that embody your passions.

On the other side of the coin, your gifts are deeply appreciated. Every little pebbling trinket has it’s special place in the box on his desk. He takes them out periodically and counts how many times a tiny detail in the chaos of the outside world has made you think of him.

For dates, Viktor chooses times and days in which the world is less crowded. Instead of a busy Saturday night, you go out in the middle of the week. After a particularly failed attempt of gifting you perfume, Viktor takes you to a balm perfume workshop, where you can make scents for each other that are buildable and unoffensive to sensitive skin.

He’s built an intimacy with you that is based on trust and constant checking. He takes care of the mood and gives you enough stops to reconsider on the way.

You both talk a lot during sex. A change of mind is natural and there is enough space made for it. He has learned a lot about himself, and his self-esteem strengthened, when he realised that, ‘I don’t like it,’ doesn’t mean ‘I don’t like you.’

If, for whatever reason, the communication turns nonverbal, you both have come up with a system of pats that signals where each of you should direct your attention.

Your inquisitive mind helped him find three additional positions, in which he feels comfortable and painless, and it eludes him entirely how he could have missed them.

Viktor’s favourite part of aftercare is cuddling you naked. He adores the way your warm body melts into his. If you add head scratches to it, he will fall asleep in your arms. He breaths in the smell of your hair and his heart beat evens out with yours.

[lirarey]

On Saturday, I went to a symphony concert of music from the films of the eighties and nineties. There was the "Addams Family" theme, but not "Beetlejuice". Yes, I have interesting associations, but think about this. Even before the twenties, we couldn’t have imagined that one day we would see Lydia as an adult in the official media. And could we have imagined that the adult Lydia would be played not by just anyone (there could have been the joke about Christina Ricci as Wednesday), but by Winona Ryder herself? I still can't imagine how exciting it must be to return to an old role after so many years. You may ask where I am going with this? Let's start with the fact that Lydia, the child (animated series), Lydia, the teenager (the first film and musical), and Lydia, the adult (the second film), are slightly different people. The relationship (in general, the specifics aren't important here) with Beetlejuice will also be different.

In the cartoon series, they're best friends (you probably saw something similar in "The Ghost and Molly McGee" from Disney). Although I have seen the opinion that the writers seem to periodically forget that they aren't a couple, and it sounds funny, but not quite canonical. In the first film, they're more like partners in fulfilling each other's wishes. Yeah, I don't think Beetlejuice had any romantic interest in Lydia in the first one. I haven't seen the musical in its entirety, but as far as I understand, their relationship there is somewhat similar to that in a cartoon series.

And the second film. Now that Lydia is a grown-up, we can really suggest a further development of their relationship. But for now, I'll focus on the romantic part. Yes, the feelings that Beetlejuice has developed over the years. I think the writers did a pretty smart job of showing us exactly it on his part. Beetlejuice is a romantic. He has this soft and sentimental side that only shows to Lydia. Perhaps we will see more of this kind of behavior from him in the third film. And even more, I want to see how Lydia gradually realizes her feelings for him. All these looks, jokes, touches...

We're waiting for the third film, Tim Burton.

[unboundprompts]

body language descriptions please?

(eg: she cocked her head)

thank you 💗💗💗

Body Language Descriptions

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Anxiety/Nervousness

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her fingers tugging nervously at the fabric as she struggled to find the right words.

They bit their lower lip.

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze, a clear indication of his guilt.

She absentmindedly rubbed her neck.

He chewed his nails, a nervous habit that he couldn't seem to quit.

They rubbed their hands together nervously.

He tightened his jaw.

She felt beads of sweat forming on her brow, betraying her calm facade as her heart raced.

Frustration/Impatience

Their fists clenched at their sides.

He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table, a clear sign of impatience as he waited for her to finish.

He rolled his eyes, the gesture full of exasperation as he dismissed her words.

She let out a heavy sigh, the sound heavy with resignation as she faced the inevitable.

He threw his hands up in defeat.

Curiosity

He leaned forward in his chair, eager to hear more, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical as she questioned his intentions.

She tilted her head slightly.

He watched intently, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in every detail of her story.

Confidence/Assertiveness

He stood tall with his shoulders back, projecting confidence even in the face of uncertainty.

They sat on the edge of their seat.

She gestured wildly, her hands moving animatedly as she tried to express her excitement.

He stood with his hands on his hips, exuding an air of authority and control over the situation.

They held their chin up high, projecting self-assurance even in the face of adversity.

Defensiveness/Resignation

He crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive posture that spoke volumes about his discomfort.

He braced himself against the wall, a protective stance.

She folded her hands in her lap, a sign of restraint as she fought the urge to speak.

They shrank back slightly, their shoulders hunching as if trying to make themselves smaller in the face of criticism.

He held his breath momentarily, steeling himself for the inevitable conflict he sensed was coming.

She covered her face with her hands, overwhelmed by the situation as she tried to block out the world.

Thoughtfulness/Concentration

She furrowed her brow in concentration, her mind clearly racing as she tried to solve the problem at hand.

She nodded slowly, processing the information, her expression thoughtful and contemplative.

He stared blankly into space, lost in thought as he processed what had just been revealed.

He drummed his fingers on the table, the rhythmic sound a sign of his deep contemplation.

She tapped her foot lightly, her mind racing.

Eagerness/Excitement

He paced back and forth, his restless energy manifesting in the constant movement as he considered his options.

She bent forward, her elbows resting on her knees, a sign of intimacy and engagement in the conversation.

She swayed slightly from side to side, a subconscious display of her nervous energy as she waited for the verdict.

He bounced on his toes, his excitement palpable.

She jumped up and down, a spontaneous display of her joy that couldn’t be contained.

[noosayog]

baby fever ft. oikawa toru

wc: 300

iwaizumi | ushijima | atsumu | osamu | sakusa | kageyama

--

When your daughter first started attending kindergarten, after school pick-up was something that worked for your schedule, and never Toru’s. So the agreement ended up being that he would be in charge of mornings and you, afternoons. 

The first couple of months were rough. At drop-off, she’d wail and cling onto Toru’s leg, begging her daddy not to leave her. When you showed up at the end of the day, she’d immediately abandon her teachers and friends, excited to go home and spend time with you and Toru. When realizing that Toru wouldn’t be home to greet her, she would pout for hours, at least until her father came home.

Today, though, would be a bit different. Finally, Toru was in off-season and he decided to use his free time today to join you in fetching her. 

When you arrive at the kindergarten, your daughter sees you first and runs to you as she always does. It’s only when she rounds the corner that she sees her favorite person, crouched down with open arms waiting. 

It’s instant. 

Her eyes light up and she squeals, no hesitation in jumping into Toru’s arms, stubby arms clinging tightly to his neck. 

She refuses to let go and Toru doesn’t complain about carrying her the entire way home. The afternoon is spent playing, giggling, napping, and eating snacks and she finally crashes from all the excitement.

While Toru tucks her in, you perform your nighttime routine. As you rub night cream into your face, you feel Toru wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your neck, sighing. 

“She knocked out?” 

“Mmph…” he grunts. 

You laugh but continue with your routine when you hear him mumble something else against your skin. 

“Toru, it tickles! And I can’t hear what you’re saying.” 

He raises his face and plops his chin on your shoulder, meeting your gaze through the mirror. 

“I said, we should make another one.” 

“Toru… I thought we agreed that-”

“I know, I know. Wait until I retire so I have more time to help.” 

You nod in response because you two have talked about this already. Multiple times.  

“Ok, hear me out, though” 

“... Okay…” you say warily. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“Please please please please please-” 

You smack his face away, but laugh all the same when he picks you up to retire for the night together. 

[chilumi-shipper]

Soulbound

Zhongli x GN!Reader (Soulmate!AU)

Summary: Zhongli hated the mark on his neck, and he hated whoever the mark bounded him to. But fate plays a cruel joke, matching him with you, as he swore he would love no one else but Guizhong.

Tags: Angst/No Comfort, Short Story, Rejection, Hurtful Words, Hatred to Love

Soulmark - A mark that binds two individuals as soulmates.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Morax had always been frustrated by the mark on his neck.

A glowing, permanent part of his body that marks him tied to a soulmate. He thinks its stupid, for the love of his life was already in front of him, a gray-haired inventor that no carving in his body could ever stop him from adoring.

He finds it unbelievable that his neck is claimed by a soulmark yet Guizhong's remain blank, and he curses Celestia above for such a foul joke.

How could he be for anyone else but her?

When her dust settled in the field of glaze lilies he thought were incomparable to her beauty, he was utterly devasted, his clawed hands held onto his neck, wanting to rip the soulmark that had been taunting him for centuries.

How could he be marked for someone else while the love of his life laid lifeless?

He loathed his mark, everything about it, and he will till his last breath.

...

Zhongli deeply dislikes you.

You are a messy, silly, babbling buffoon.

An adventurer from Mondstadt that embodies the nation's will of freedom. Bubbly, carefree, and loud, much like a fellow god he didn't particularly like.

Despite of his disdain of you, your affection towards him never wavered. You filled his somber days with excitement as you joyfully tell him stories about your adventures, share some new recipes you've learned, even ushering him to talk about obscure Liyue historical facts that you've always found interesting.

He was much too proper to shoo you away, and his cold looks and short responses didn't discourage you to try to make friends with the man that peeked your curiosity.

Ever so slowly, you had pried open his caged heart, planting a small seed that was so distinctly you.

He would have accepted you, he would have seen you as a friend... and yet...

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a faint, familiar mark on your neck, revealed when you put your hair up into a ponytail.

Zhongli knew he truly disliked you.

...

"I don't believe in the marks either, Mr. Zhongli..." You reasoned with him, but his gaze still stung you with daggers.

He caged himself back up, ensuring that you could not care for the little seed you planted, no light would be able to reach it again.

His heart would not open...

No matter how many times he catches himself smiling at your antics.

No matter if he displays every gift and trinket you give him from your travels.

No matter how much he preferred your cooking over anyone else's.

No matter how beautiful you look staring up at him with your doe eyes as you confess your affection.

No matter how frustrated he felt at himself when he made you cry as he rejects your feelings.

Because, for him, how could there be anyone else but her?

...

"Do you see why it could never be you?"

You both stood in front of a monument, surrounded by various plants and objects you assume to be from friends of this ancient goddess.

"I bet she was amazing."

"She was perfect. Perhaps that's why I was not worthy to share a mark with her."

At this point, you were used to his words, how they praise her, how they degrade you.

"You're pretty great too, Zhongli..."

Faith places identical marks on the necks of two soulmates, and the rest is a romantic story of the passion that builds up as people pursue their marks of love.

Fate is cruel to you and him.

"That mark is not for you, Y/N." The Geo Archon says to you, tearing you apart silently, as you stand and take his words.

His heart quivers despite the harsh words coming from his own mouth. Even after millennia of having the mark engraved on his neck, after concluding that maybe he would allow your little seed to prosper even just for a bit, he still chooses to cling onto his hopeless past.

Tears fall down from your eyes, but you remain quiet, only nodding in agreement.

You loathed the mark on your neck.

...

Zhongli opens the cage of his heart a little, allowing him to peak at the small sprout from the seed you planted.

So distinctly you, it was the only thing he has of you.

After letting you leave him at Guizhong's monument with tears still staining your face, he couldn't help but miss you.

He couldn't help but let you finally take your place in his heart, after so long of hating his soulmark, hating whoever the mark tied him to, he fears he has finally accepted faith.

...

"Where is it?" He grips your arm harshly, his hold not faltering as you try to shake him off. His gaze was cold, yet you could still catch the hint of alarm in his eyes. "What have you done?"

After weeks... you return to him... missing something.

You winced at the stress of his words, feeling frightened under his tense hold. "I..." His bruising grip didn't falter, urging you to explain yourself. "S-Surprise...?"

"You..." Zhongli looks at you in disbelief. "How stupid could you be?"

"M-Mr. Zhongli... it's a blessing of the Anemo Archon... I prayed for him set us free from fate."

"Y/N... I..." He was at a loss for words, his heart ached as his eyes searched your neck in vain. "Fate... going against it is painful. It must've been excruciating."

"It was... but this if for you, Zhongli..." You smiled, feeling him loosen his grip. "Because I love... loved you." You fully free yourself from him, rubbing at where he previously held you.

The wind around him picked up, and he hears the faint whispers of an old friend along with it. Whispers of comfort, as he clearly ruined what would have been the light of the rest of his days.

Your soulmark fades, but his remains...

Zhongli loathed his mark, for it bears no meaning, no one but him bears that mark.

As you leave, trying to fade away in the background of his life, you remain under a spotlight in his eyes, for you will always be the one that shares his mark, no matter if it is visible.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

What y'all think of this one? :3

I bet y'all's feelings were hurt hehe

[girlygguk]

WINTER THINGS ⋆ JJK

it’s jungkook’s favorite time of year and the only thing on his list is you. getting to finally feel you, see you, meet you outside of his computer screen. now it’s happening. and, god, you’re even prettier in person.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 6 of 6

pairing jungkook x gf!reader

genre fluff, smut (18+ mdni)

content jk 21 | yn 21, golden retriever bf x black cat gf, long distance established relationship, communications major jk, art & design major oc, they’re both gamers who met online, way too much valorant talk, first time meeting in person, simp jk, down bad jk, loser jk, emotionally reserved oc, but jk makes her feel at Ease, kissing, tiddy sucking, pussy fingering, pussy eating, munch jk

word count 4.8k

banner by the amazing @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

author’s note i actually have sooo much more i could do w this couple but the holidays got in the way and i had to wrap er up 🎁 thank u guys sm for all the love ❤️ hope u had a lovely & merry merry christmas!!! :*

Jungkook didn’t mean to die.

He was mid-round, lurking through a corridor, carefully timing a push when a headshot clipped his ass clean. The disappointed groans of his teammates crackled through his headset, but Jungkook barely noticed. Any other time, he would’ve had the guy first. Easy.

But any other time, he didn’t have his gorgeous girlfriend getting ready right there on his very own phone screen.

Your iPad was propped up against one of your hand-painted jewelry boxes, angled just right to catch you sitting in front of your vanity. From the moment you started your makeup, Jungkook had been distracted. Now, all his attention was on you—completely, helplessly.

You were brushing mascara through your lashes, lips slightly parted as you tilted your head back to reach the roots. A soft breath escaped you, and Jungkook’s hand slackened on his mouse. His fingers twitched as his gaze followed the curve of your pouty lips, the slope of your neck, and the fabric of your winter sweater where it clung to your soft figure.

He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat lightly as the familiar throb in his sweats made itself known. “Shit,” he muttered, tugging at his headset with one hand while the other hovered uselessly over his keyboard.

“Hm?” Your soft, distracted hum broke through the static of his team chat. Your mascara wand hovered mid-swipe as your big eyes flicked toward the camera, your head tilting slightly. “You okay, baby?”

Jungkook scrambled to confirm his mic was off. “Yeah, baby,” he rushed, blinking rapidly as if it might snap him out of the daze he’d fallen into. “You look so pretty.”

Your lips curved faintly, but your attention had already drifted back to your reflection. “Thank you,” you murmured, leaning closer to the mirror to perfect the flick of your eyeliner. Jungkook didn’t respond. He just sat there, helpless, watching you like you were the only thing in his world. And you were.

His match was long forgotten, his fingers frozen on his mouse as he soaked in the sight of you framed by the soft purple glow of your LED lights. Dressed in that dark red sweater, getting ready for a friend dinner, you were miles away from him, and still, he felt like he could reach out and fucking touch you.

Three days. Three more days and then he’d finally be on a plane, finally getting to seeing you in person. The thought made his belly rumble with excitement.

It had taken over a year to get here. To go from the quiet, indifferent girl who solo-queued Valorant lobbies to the girlfriend who now wore his hoodies that he sent her in the mail because they smelled like him.

He could still remember the first time he met you. That random day during last winter break when he and his best friend Yoongi had been running games all day and decided to play one more before calling it a night.

You were in that game.

You barely said a word, only responding if spoken to, only comming when absolutely necessary. You were focused, unfazed as you carried the entire team through the match.

Jungkook had always been a hopeless simp. But with you, it was something else entirely. From the moment he heard your sweet, honeyed voice carrying a tone that made it clear you couldn’t give a fuck less about him... yeah, he was a goner.

That game, he’d pushed too far, not expecting the two opponents waiting around the corner. You had been lurking behind Jungkook and killed both enemies before they could even touch him. Your voice was calm, detached, as you told him to follow you.

And he did. Of course he did.

He could still hear the confused hum you’d let out into the mic when he froze on B site, waiting for further instructions from you. As if this wasn’t the second highest rank in the entire game. As if he hadn’t sunk hours into perfecting his gameplay.

“Plant the spike...” you’d said, the slightest hint of frustration in your voice.

Yoongi had laughed. Jungkook had blushed.

“JJ?”

You were propping your iPad against the edge of your drawer now, stepping back from the screen. Jungkook blinked, his brain stuttering as you came into full view. You were wearing a short black skirt paired with the same sweater that had been driving him insane since the moment you pulled it on and let him watch. The hem of the skirt swished lightly as you twirled, tilting your head as you gestured toward yourself.

“Do you like it?” you asked, turning to show how the fabric skimmed over your upper thighs.

Jungkook stared, his big doe eyes wide and dazed. He nodded quickly as heat climbed the back of his neck.

Your lips curved into a soft smile. “I’ll take that as a very much,” you teased, turning back toward the dresser. You reached for a bracelet, the soft jingle filling the silence as Jungkook tried to scrape together a coherent thought.

“You’re beautiful,” he managed finally, as his fingers flexed restlessly on his desk. “So pretty, baby. What time will you be home?”

You glanced back at the camera, your expression softening. “Thank you, honey,” you said, slipping the bracelet onto your wrist. “Probably around ten? I’ll call you when I’m back.”

Jungkook nodded instantly, his lips lifting into a broad smile as he watched you lean down to slip on your Docs. “Three days,” he chirped.

Your smile deepened, that rare, quiet smile he’d spent months trying to pull from you. “I know, baby,” you said softly, your tone warm as you slipped on your other shoe. “I’m very excited.”

“Me too.” His grin broadened, his cheeks warm and flushed as he flicked his team chat off entirely, ignoring the sound of his teammates yelling at him for going idle. “So excited, baby.”

You picked up your phone, tucking it into your bag before glancing at your iPad one last time. Your soft smile lingered as you said, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, baby,” Jungkook replied softly with a dumb smile.

You blinked down at your device, gaze raking over your boyfriend’s pretty, dazed face before a light laugh escaped your lips. “I love you, JJ.”

His eyes widened, and he almost smacked his forehead for nearly letting you go without saying his favorite three words. “I love you more, baby. Have fun.”

Jungkook watched until the call ended, leaving him staring at his reflection in the black screen of his phone.

Three days. Three more days.

Your fingers tapped idly against the side of your phone, clenched tightly in your hand. Your gaze flicked quietly around your surroundings as your free hand fiddled with the hem of your jacket. You glanced down once more to double-check the text he had sent ten minutes ago.

just landed baby ❤️ waiting for my luggage

You had responded with your exact location by the pickup terminals, a message he had heart-reacted to almost immediately. He shouldn’t be too far now.

Still, the minutes felt endless. You brushed an invisible speck of dust off your black mini dress, your fingers moving to tug at an imaginary thread on your sheer stockings.

Then the sound of a bag dropping beside you jolted you. You spun on your heel and came face to face with the boy who had taken over your life for the past year.

Jungkook stood less than an inch away, a blue puffer jacket shaping his broad frame as the widest grin split across his face. His hair was fluffy, pushed back just enough to reveal his soft forehead, and his big doe eyes sparkled as they took you in.

Your heart lurched, and before you knew it, you were smiling wider than you thought you ever would. Then you were moving. Your hands slid to the sides of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss before you could think to stop yourself.

Jungkook melted instantly. A soft groan escaped him as his hands slipped beneath your unzipped jacket, gripping your sides to pull you flush against him. His lips were warm, pressing slowly against yours—soft, sweet, perfect. Just like him.

When you pulled back, his brow creased slightly, and his lips instinctively chased yours. You didn’t deny him, letting him press another kiss to your mouth. Then another. And one more. His lips lingered, each kiss slow and gentle, leaving your eyes closed and your heart racing.

When he finally pulled back, it was with a soft inhale against your lips before he grinned again. “Hi, baby.”

You smiled at the sound of him out of breath, and when Jungkook opened his eyes, his heart stuttered at the sight of it. It was so much prettier in person.

“Hi, JJ. Merry Christmas Eve.”

Your apartment was quiet as you unlocked the door and flicked on the light switch. Jungkook followed closely behind, his gaze sweeping over the room as you led him in.

The walls were dotted with your paintings—abstract swirls of color, faces, little scenes that made him smile. He even recognized a few pieces from your video calls—the tiny clay bunny on your coffee table, the stack of notebooks filled with sketches you showed him if he begged cutely enough.

Jungkook grinned as he stepped further inside, dropping his bag on the ground near the entryway while you shut the door behind him. He toed off his sneakers next to the mat as you leaned down to unzip one of your boots, your fingers fumbling a little with the zipper. You wobbled.

Straight into him.

Jungkook caught you immediately, his hands firm as they wrapped around your sides. His heart stuttered in time with your misstep, his chest tightening as your loosely curled hair spilled toward him, brushing over your shoulder. You looked up at him, your voice soft as you murmured, “sorry.”

He barely heard it. You were so close, he could smell you—the warm, sweet honey scent of your skin mixed with a perfume that reminded him of dark berries.

“You smell so good.”

You’ve straightened now, fully upright as you met his gaze. His hands still lingered under your jacket, the heat of his palms seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, his smile faint and dreamy.

His eyes dropped to your lips. Glossy, the faint sheen of lip balm somehow still intact despite all the kisses he had stolen in the back of the Uber when the driver wasn’t looking.

“Yeah,” you confirmed quietly, your lashes lowering as your gaze traced his features, taking him in like you were seeing him for the first time.. “Smell just like the hoodies,” you murmured, “but better. Stronger.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, his touches growing greedier. His hands slid a little lower down your sides as he leaned toward you, his pretty nose brushing yours.

“Did you bring more?” you asked, your words a soft breath against his mouth.

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod, his lips hovering so close you could almost taste them. “Three. Is that enough?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, and then you couldn’t wait anymore. You closed the gap.

Your hands slipped up to wrap around his neck, and Jungkook let out a soft noise that vibrated into your mouth. His hands slid further under your jacket, palms pressing firmly against your waist as he pulled you flush against his body. His lips parted against yours, and when your tongues brushed, the softest, sweetest sound escaped you. Ssstraight to his cock.

Your fingers twisted into the back of his hair, and Jungkook groaned pathetically into the kiss. His hands slid down from your hips to the back of your thighs, lifting you to wrap your legs around him. When your tongue lapped his again, your head tilting to taste more of him, the whimpery noise he let out was pitiful. You loved it.

Neither of you spared a thought for the boot that slipped from your foot as he carried you until your back met the door with a soft thump. The kiss was messy, noisy, desperate as you both moaned into each other’s mouths. It felt like you were making up for all the nights apart, all the times you had to settle for fucking yourselves over FaceTime, getting off together but never really together.

Your mouth broke away from his, your head falling back against the door as you panted softly. Jungkook didn’t miss a beat, his lips eagerly brushing along your jaw as his hips pressed forward. The hard line of his cock rubbed against your pussy through the denim of his jeans, pulling a shaky breath from your lips.

“I can’tt, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained, whiny if you will. His hips rolled again as his hands gripped you tighter. “You’re so soft. Smell so good. I fucking can’t.”

“Why are you holding back?” you breathed, your voice trembly as your hips ground against him, forcing a choked sound from his lips. “We’ve been so patient, honey... You can have it now.”

Jungkook cursed under his breath before his mouth was back on yours, needy as he licked into you, relishing in the sounds you gave him. His greedy hands roamed, sliding under the hem of your dress, up the soft skin of your thighs, until they landed where your stockings ended. Your ass.

This fucking ass.

The ass he's stared at so many times through so many screens. The ass he's watched jiggle just a little as he jerked his cock while you held a vibrator to your clit, your hips shaking as you came for him. The ass he's praised and admired in all the pairs of panties you tried on just for him—ones he had ordered for you, or ones you bought yourself, saying you had another haul to show him if he wanted to see.

If he wanted to see? God, it was like you didn’t even know him sometimes.

He's fantasised about this ass more times than he could fucking count. And now, it was in his handsss.

Jungkook’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into the fatty flesh as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your nails scraped lightly against the nape of his neck, swallowing his little whine as you grinded harder against his crotch.

“Fuckk, baby,” he breathed against your tongue, arms tightening around your bum to lift you off the wall. This time he carried you to the couch with hurried steps, your jacket slipping further from your shoulders with each movement.

When he reached the couch, he laid you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he hovered above you. His chest rose and fell in rapid pants, his lips red and swollen. He sat back on his knees, dragging a hand through his messy hair, the glow of his flushed skin making him look unreal. For a moment you wonder if this really was happening. If he really was here.

You sat up slightly, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it to the ground as Jungkook’s hands found your remaining boot. He tugged at the zipper, easing it off your foot before tossing it to join the growing pile of clothes on your fuzzy, multicolored rug—the rug he mentally noted to tell you he really likes when you two were done.

His gaze flicked to yours briefly before he grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. The fabric caught slightly at the back of his neck, making him huff softly before it joined the pile. So cute.

Your eyes immediately dropped to his broad chest, and a teasing smile curled your lips as your gaze caught on his nipples, the small, dark buds already hardening from the slight chill of your flat. You couldn’t help it; you’d always had a fascination with them—something he learned quickly during your video calls that turned dirtier, filthier, the more you did them.

Jungkook caught your look, his lips parting as his chest rose in shallow breaths. “Don’ttt, baby,” he grumbled, a flush spreading from his neck to his round cheeks.

You just smirked, leaning back against the couch, letting him take you in. Your dress was gone, leaving you in nothing but your bra, panties, and the cute little red-and-green anklet socks you’d worn under your stockings. For some reason, they made his cock swell even harder in his pants.

What? He loves Christmas...

Jungkook leaned down to find your lips, his hands pressing into the cushion on either side of you. His body slotted perfectly between your legs, his hips grinding into yours as he groaned softly into your mouth. You could feel his cock harden against you, pressing deeper into your warm core, and a moan slipped out, legs tightening around his waist.

His lips trailed down, kissing along your jaw, then your neck, stopping at the hollow of your throat to suck. His gaze dropped further, locking on your chest. He stilled, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his throat bobbed with a hard swallow.

“Godd,” he muttered, his voice thick with pure awe. His eyes flicked up to yours briefly, pupils blown. “You’re so fucking…”

But he couldn’t even finish. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing the tops of your boobs as his fingers found the clasp of your bra. He unhooked it hastily, the straps sliding down your arms before he pulled it away, tossing it to the ground with a fucking gulp.

Jungkook exhaled heavily through his nose, his eyes drinking in every bit of your soft, bare skin. He wanted to ask if he could take a picture... but that thought could wait. God, it had to wait.

“Fuckkk,” he said again, this time louder, a soft groan escaping his lips. A quiet laugh escaped yours in response as his head dipped right down.

He kissed the swell of your breast, his big, warm tongue flicking out to circle your nipple slowly. His pouty lips closed around it, suckling softly, and he let out the most whimpery sound you’d ever heard from him—and your boyfriend had made a lot of those.

His hand cupped your other breast, his thumb brushing over the hardening bud before rolling it gently between his fingers. A quiet whine slipped from your lips, your back arching as his tongue swirled and flicked. His mouth grew hungrier, movements more eager as he switched sides, long fingers kneading the plush flesh while he nipped, licked, and lapped.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, pushing more of your boob into his mouth, which he accepted with a happy choke. Your breaths came faster, your hands tangling into his hair as he detached from your nipple with a soft pop. Wet kisses trailed lower, across your ribs, down your soft stomach. His lips brushed over the flesh there, his tongue darting out for a little taste, before he reached waistband of your panties.

He glanced up at you with wet eyes and shiny lips, a soft flush painting his cheeks. His fingers hooked into the lace of your panties, quickly pulling them down. The air against your core made you shiver, and Jungkook groaned softly at the way your hole clenched in response to the cold.

His hands adjusted your thighs on either side of his head, ensuring you were comfy, and when you smiled down at him, he beamed back before pressing a little kiss to your inner thigh and dipping down.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow, dragging right up your folds before circling your clit lightly. Your thighs tensed immediately, a little cry spilling from your lips as your hands clutched tighter into his hair.

He groaned into you as his hands spread your thighs wider, holding them open against the couch when they treatened to close. His tongue moved with one goal, dragging down and back up, his throat bobbing as he swallowed every drop of slick you were making for him.

“Sh-shit, baby,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his mouth closed over your clit, sucking noisily. “Shittttt, JJ—”

You couldn’t finish the thought. The way Jungkook switched between licking and sucking, his big nose pressing firmly against your clit, made any coherent words evaporate. He buried himself deeper into your pussy, breathing you in as he ate. Like, literal deep inhales. You could feel them.

Your hips bucked up instinctively, a movement that pulled a surprised, happy whine from his throat. He dragged his tongue down, dipping it into your little clenching hole, before sliding it back up to circle your clit with eager, sloppy flicks. Your jaw tilted up, your head pressing harder into the couch cushion as the pleasure bloomed in your belly, your thighs trembling on either side of his head.

“Is it fucked that this is exactly what I thought it would taste like?” Jungkook mumbled through his mouthful. He pulled back just enough to breathe the words, his pretty mouth and chin glistening, tongue darting out again, lapping at your slick like he couldn’t fucking stop. “It’s so fucking good, Y/n. God, have you tried this, baby?”

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan slipped from your lips, your head falling back again as your fingers twisted into his hair. “Baby, please,” you started, your voice shaky as your hips jerked up again, “shut u—uhhhh.”

The last part of your sentence dissolved into a grunt as Jungkook slipped a thick middle finger inside you, curling it just, stroking your walls while he suckled at your clit. He whined at the feeling of your plushy walls coating his finger, his big tongue lapping up and down while pumping the digit deeper.

When he pushed it in to the knuckle, the throatiest, loudest moan tore from your lips, and Jungkook moaned right the fuck back, his lips vibrating around your clit as his eyes fluttered shut. He felt the spongy plush of your g-spot with the tip of his finger, and he swears to fuck his cock started to cry.

His hips shifted against the couch as his big eyes watched your hole clench around his digit. “Woahh, baby,” he mumbled, his voice thick with wonder. “So pretty. Pictured my fingers in your pussy so many times. This is crazyyy, baby.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “You’re really cute, JJ. But I’ve been waiting for this for a year... Let’s cum first, and then we can talk about how crazy it all is, okay, honey?”

Your hands tugged harder at his hair, knowing how much he liked it from the times you’d discussed kinks and likes over phone calls. Jungkook practically purred at the sting and your words. He didn’t think he’d ever agreed with something more in his entire life.

When he added a second finger, the stretch made you fucking shudder. His fingers were so long, so thick, filling you so well that your thighs clamped around him instantly. He didn’t mind—he loved it, in fact. His moan vibrated wetly against your cunt as he spread his fingers slightly, fucking them into your hole harder.

“Fuckkk yes, babyy,” you whimpered, your back arching off the couch. Your hands tugged at his hair, your hips grinding against his face as your stomach tightened. “That’s itttt, baby. That’s fucking it.”

“Mmmmf,” he moaned, his tongue flicking over your slippery clit as his fingers pumped in and out, the wet squelch of your juices echoing as he lapped them up eagerly.

Your breath hitched, your moans morphing into sharp little cries as his hand tilted just slightly, the angle of his fingers brushing your puffy spot every fucking time.

“Fuck, JJ, fuck, fuck, fuckkk—”

He pulled you closer with his free hand, gripping your soft thigh as his tongue worked faster, licking and munching at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten all day.

“Baby,” you cried, your head tipping back. “I’m sorry, JJ, I—I’m gonna cummm, fuckkk! I’m sorr—yyyyy!” Your words dissolved into a high pitched squeal as your body convulsed, your pussy pressing desperately against his face. The orgasm hit you like a fucking truck, leaving you trembling and shaking into the couch.

Jungkook whined greedily at the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers, the fluttering grip making him thrust against the cushion for relief. He pushed his fingers as far into you as they could go, curling them up inside to drag every last bit of pleasure while his mouth suctioned hard around your throbbing clit. He followed your pussy as it quivered and tried to escape the stimulation, his throat bobbing happily as he swallowed all your slick.

His fingers slowed, his tongue moving gently as he lapped up everything, your hips jerking softly against his face, which made him smile cutely.

When you finally stilled, your breathing uneven, he pulled back with a little pop. His lips and chin were soaked, his hair a mess from where your hands had tugged at it, but his eyes were so bright. He licked his lips, a cute bunny grin spreading across his face as he looked up at you.

“Can’t believe you apologized for cumming, baby. That was so hot.”

You were both sitting on the floor next to the little Christmas tree Jungkook had helped you put together—your first Christmas tree ever.

Your parents weren’t ones to celebrate the holidays, and the season had always felt like a chore, something to just get through. But your boyfriend loved it, and he had a way of making you like things you didn’t think you cared about before.

The heater was cranked high, both of you showered and warm, now dressed in the matching Christmas pajamas Jungkook had bought for you guys in his hometown. The living room smelled like cinnamon from the gingerbread cookies you’d baked earlier, another absolute must Jungkook insisted on for the holidays.

It was all very cute. The mess, the lack of an apron, the flour smudged across his cheek that he didn’t notice. He looked so happy, his face bright as he popped a misshapen cookie into his mouth and declared it perfect. He was right. It was perfect.

Now, you're plopping a wrapped gift into his lap, curling your knees to your chest as you watched him with wide eyes. He grinned down at the box, his fingers brushing over the carefully taped edges before looking back at you.

“Baby, it’s so heavy. You went over budget, didn’t you?” he asked. “That’s okay—I did too.” He rambled on giddily, and you stayed quiet, maybe a little nervous, as his eager hands tore open the paper.

And then, for the first time since you’d met the rambly boy, he went silent.

Your gaze swept over his face, your hand lifting to tuck a piece of damp hair behind your ear as you tried to gauge his reaction. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes flicking down to the gift in his lap—a framed painting, the one you’d spent weeks working on in secret.

The longer the silence stretched, the more your nerves prickled. Then, his eyes started to well.

“Honey, it’s not meant to be a sad paint—”

“I know, baby!” he cried, his voice trembling as he sniffled. He set the painting gently on the floor before surging forward, pulling you into his lap.

“JJ,” you cooed through a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he buried his face in your shoulder. His wet hair tickled your skin as you kissed his cheek. “You like it?”

“I love it so fucking much,” he mumbled into your neck, his voice thick. “Oh my god, I love it so much. You fucking painted me? Are you kidding me? Fuck my gift! Oh, fuck it! This is the best thing I’ve ever gotten. I look like such a shitty, thoughtless boyfriend now. Fucking paintbrushes, oh for fucks—”

“Baby,” you scolded gently, your lips brushing his temple. His arms only tightened around you. “I love your gift so much. Remember? I almost cried… You pointed it out.”

He sniffled, leaning back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide and glassy. “Swear?”

“Swear, my love.” You nodded, running a hand through his damp curls. “I’m only going to use them exclusively when I paint you from now on.”

Jungkook’s head snapped up, his eyes widening a little. Then he pouted, his wet lashes batting at you as you kissed him softly on the lips. “I know you’re joking,” he muttered, “but that kind of turns me on.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled, your arms looping tighter around his neck as you pressed another peck to his pout. “Merry Christmas, JJ.”

His lips pulled into a big bunny grin, fingers spread over the small of your back. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

aaaaand that is IT for christmas & chill!!! aside from the breakdowns and delays on my part (who’s surprised Not me), i’ve had sooo much fun and will forever cherish this series. not just because it helped me connect w so many of you sweetiepies over the holiday period, but because it brought me closer to you, my piccola @lovieku. we all have u and ur beautiful, polymath mind to thank for c&c. love you baby