#and hope i make it home before it flings off again

[lifebloodless]

Why was it snowing? Why? What purpose did that have? My wipers are kinda fucky and it's a gamble every time they go across my windshield. Why did it precipitate

[sunni-stuff]

P1 here.

Ghost walks through the door of your home as if he owns the place, tossing his keys onto the coffee table and shrugging off his gear by the door. He remembers your address by heart and recognizes the space he's walking through once again. 

Glancing around, he expected to see you greet him at the foyer only to be met with silence. Ghost passes by your couch, gloved fingers running against the back while his mind replays the sounds of your needy moans from when he fingered you on the cushions just weeks ago.

Ghost has had countless flings and meaningless one night stands, but never did he expect any of the doves he's played with to actively call for more. 

Though he wasn't complaining.

A creaking floorboard causes his head to snap towards the stairs. There, he sees you cautiously descending, the sides of your nightgown clutched anxiously in your palms. “I didn't think you'd actually show.” 

Simon stares at you, his eyes roaming over your form, taking in every dip and curve visible through the lacey material. He lets out a heavy breath, fist clenched in deep restraint as he thanked every single god above for what's standing in front of him. “How can I ignore a civilian in need?”

Your laugh makes him still, the mirthful chuckle and the smile on your lips making the tent in his pants ache painfully.

Did you know what you were doing to him? How just your chuckles alone stirred something profound?

“So… upstairs or on the couch?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“You wanted me here, love. Dealers' choice.” Simon watches you fumble, fingers thumbing over the lacing decorating the bottom of your nightgown.

“Upstairs then.”

For Simon, everything seems to happen in blurs. Just moments ago he was standing by the stairs and the next he's in between your legs, one large hand splayed over your stomach having you lay back motioning for you to relax as he eats you out like a man starved.

He doesn't remember how he got here; all that matters now is the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Simon laps at your glossy lips, tongue gliding your sensitive folds to your clit, making sure to give both his undivided attention. He needed no words to know he was doing a good job; your knees attempting to lock behind his head was added confirmation if your whines for more weren't enough.

“Can't you just put it in?” You huff in between moans, attempting to sit up on your elbows despite his efforts to keep you down.

“Shhh…” Simon coos, pressing a fleeting kiss on your pearl before pulling away his chin and lips shining your slick. “Look at that, practically begging for me.” A thick digit runs down your slit, gathering a pool of wetness and licking it off his fingers. 

Simon gazes at your cunt, observing how just his lips hovering near causes your weeping hole to clench around nothing. He could watch this all day. Watch how badly you needed him. How only he had the privilege to hear you beg.

“Alright, fussy bird,” He stands up straight, his shadow completely consuming you, the stark differences between you two are evident. Simon is not a small man in the slightest. Everything about him screams large. His presence commands attention, from his muscular arms down to his sturdy thighs.

Simon grabs ahold of your waist, pulling you against his bulge, slowly grinding his hips up and down, teasing you along the rough fabric of his jeans. He shows a little restraint, purposely holding back in hopes of hearing more pleas. “Come on, love, tell me what you need.”

This is what you dreamed of. His hands, his voice, his lips against your skin, a true dream come true. The final stretch was so close, so near and yet he still kept you tethered to the edge. “Please, I need it,” You mewl desperately, hips bucking for more friction.

Simon chuckles lightly, watching as you practically bounce in anticipation. "Someone's in a hurry," he jokes, despite his growing ardor matching your own.

With nimble fingers, he quickly unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers until he's bare to you. His eyes bore into yours as he did so, a silent question in them. His large cock sprang free, bobbing up against his stomach in time with his rapid heartbeat. 

The sight of his length, standing proud and erect, was enough to intensify the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Finally, you'd be full once again, getting to feel that cock of his in places no one else can reach. You nod all too eagerly, laying back to fully embrace everything.

With a swift lift of your hips, Simon nudges the edge of himself against you, drawing a ragged groan as he feels the wet heat of your waiting entrance. One hand grabbing his length, he slowly guided his throbbing cock against your slick folds. The head of his erection teased your entrance for a moment, before he pressed forward, burying himself inside you. “Fuck, fuck, more, please.” 

Simon can't help but smirk at your eagerness, patting your thigh appreciatively. “Can't rush things, dove. Don't want you breaking.” It's a slow push, his cock stretching your welcoming heat inch by inch. As he bottomed out, he let out a throaty groan, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him.

You cum in that exact moment, your pussy squeezing tightly around him and milking his cock. It feels like a faucet that won't stop dripping, coating his length with your sweet juices. For a brief moment you're dazed, head swimming and unable to hear anything over the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, admiring the sight of you breathless. You feel like velvet, your pussy a vice he wasn’t sure he’d be able to quit. His thumb pushes against your clit and you whine, your voice high-pitched.

“Sensitive, please,” you beg, squirming until his hands force your hips down. Your lips are forced into an o shape, a silent scream forced from your chest when he does the exact opposite.

You’re not sure if you’re begging for him to stop or begging for more–it’s hard to tell when you’re being fucked within an inch of your life.

“Stay with me dove, stay with me,” Simon sneers, something depraved and feral in his voice. “Lemme make you feel good.”

Once the initial shock of cumming has passed, he begins to move inside you, setting a slow, deliberate pace. With every thrust, he claimed more of you, your bodies moving together in synchronicity. The scent of your sex mingled in the confined space of your bedroom, intensifying the intimate atmosphere.

Simon closes his eyes, wanting to savor the moment. Everything about this is mesmerizing. He'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

A hitched moan has him opening his eyes, his gaze boring into yours, wanting to see every flicker of pleasure that passes through you. Thank you, god, Simon thinks. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, but he held on, wanting to draw this pleasure out as long as possible. He wanted to give you everything and more.

“Feel like heaven,” he breathes. “Is this what you wanted? Wanted me nice and deep huh?”

His palm presses on your stomach where his cock bulges the skin, his grin wicked. “Poor girl, can’t make herself cum so she had to call me, yeah?”

You nod, a symphony of yes yes yes escaping you as Simon bears down upon you, the bed rocking with each movement.

“Had to call me because you know no one can fuck you like I can,” he says, “say it for me, c’mon.”

You hiccup through every word. “N-No one can fuck me—oh god—like you Si’—”

Your words make his ego grow, muttering of that's fuckin’ right streaming from his lips as he comes, the feeling sending your nerves on overdrive. 

As he felt you tightening around him, he knew you were close—as close as he was. His hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure. He stroked in rhythm with his thrusts, chasing your orgasm with his.

Your pleasure peaked simultaneously, his cum filling you as you cum around him, walls clenching and rippling along his length in your aftershock. After a moment, he pulls out carefully, the room filled with your heavy breathing. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply staring back at each other through lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks. Simon starts his retreat, stepping back to make distance and pulling up his pants. Your hand on his makes him pause. He raises a brow, confused by your actions. He opens his mouth but you're quicker.

“We aren't done.”

-

The original prompt was supposed to be a little thing; but so many people liked it, so here <3! This most likely won't be a series.

Taglist (ppl who commented): @pheebslu @amaraabbz @crestapex @tsarinamariya @kittykatgorl @havoc973 @gg-trini @coyotebayou @delta98-idk @thincess-reup @my-bright-legacy @jaxz21 @readersandtumblers

[redcherrykook]

──𐙚 special present- Jungkook birthday special!

────୨ৎ────

content: Jk´s birthday, lingerie, passionate sex, praise regarding body, fluff, vibrator usage, oral, cute dinner date, aftercare talks, established relationship, shit ton of kisses, petnames galore

note from cherry: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOYFIE U R 27 NOW!!! i love my sexy man guys help .... ignore typos thanks ily!

────୨ৎ────

first september 2024, Jungkook´s twenty-seventh birthday.

On this day, 27 years ago an angel was born, a lover, a gentle heart with a passionate soul. He was given to this earth as a gift, someone to create happiness through art, someone to share laughs and looks with. Someone that has been by your side for four years now, blessing your every morning with his face and little kisses, blessing your every night with his arms and whispers

There is nothing that comes close to being loved by Jungkook, nothing that remotely compares to the feeling of his reassurance, his little messages throughout your day or the flowers he would bring home because they reminded him of you.

Equally, there is nothing that you wouldn´t do for him. He´s your entire heart and you´re his, his smile, his reason to keep going when he feels less than enough.

In comparison to what he does for you, standing in the kitchen for hours on his birthday just to cook him a nice pasta and lots of side dishes plus some little deserts is not nearly as difficult

It was your idea to cook for him, knowing how much he loves at home dinner dates with a cozy movie, he refused at first, not wanting you to push yourself for him

He knew all to well you would go all out for this occasion,

"Lets just go to a restaurant ma, i want you to relax"

Managing to persuade him with the mention of traditional carbonara and oreo cream cookies, he still had to attend a photoshoot before returning home

six hours later, the kitchen is set, candles and a big box on the table along all the delicious food, moodlights on

Jungkook hates the big overhead lamp, so you turned that off immediately

Now it´s time to rush for a shower, quickly drying your hair and putting on the smallest amount of make up to look extra cute, even though you know he loves your bare face the most.

"Baby! Happy birthday kook!" your grin spreads over your lips, jumping to hug him as soon as he comes through the door, his woody sweet scent staining your sense

he hugs you back, wrapping his strong arms around your delicate body, smiling to himself like he had never been happier,

"thank you angel, smells so good here" he replies, holding on to your waist and nuzzling his nose to yours

you kiss him gently, savoring the softness of his lips on yours

"mhm, I hope it tastes good too" you hum, stepping into the kitchen to take out some champagne from the fridge, he takes off his shoes and jacket, coming behind you to wrap his arms around your figure again,

his head drops to your neck, burrying himself in your scent and velvet smooth hair while you fill two glasses with the sparkling alcohol

"I´m sure it does, you´re the best cook cutie" he mumbles into your hair, kissing your cheek while rubbing your sides softly

"let´s eat, you must be so hungry kook" you giggle, turning around to cup his face

The both of you spend the next hour or so eating the home cooked goods, his little stims and groans of appreciation lighting up your heart, the way his large, veiny hands grip the tiny chopsticks, flinging them around with the first bites to show how good it tastes to him

With a few last bites on the vanilla lotus cake, he sighs, rubbing his stomach

"Woah, I´m so full. Thank you angel, come here" he smiles, patting his thigh

You walk over immediately, plopping down on his lap with your arms around his neck, one hand caressing his cheek softly,

"so glad you liked it baby" you say, kissing his nose to which he scrunches it up, placing a kiss to your lips instead

"Wanna open your present?" his brown doe eyes light up, his head nodding excitedly,

the black, ribbon wrapped box is already in his hands before you can register what´s going on, slender fingers moving to unwrap it while both of you stare in anticipation

The box opens, two things inside and the look on his face is priceless, weeks of saving up and hiding your little secret is finally worth it

He gasps, taking the expensive film camera out of the box,

"there´s no way" he says, stars in his eyes shining when he spins the packaging around, setting it down on the table and cupping your face

"My baby.. you really got me this? But that´s so much money my love"

you nod, smiling and caressing his shoulder, "Don´t worry about that.. look how happy you are! that´s worth every cent"

He starts kissing you with the same grin still planted on his lips, moving his mouth against yours sweetly,

"thank you, you're the best" he whispers, resting his forehead on yours

"There´s one more thing in there" you gesture to the box, he hums, taking out the stüssy hoodie you knew he had been eyeing, eightball logo as the backprint on the black, comfy material

He folds it back up, with a peck to your nose his hands wander back down to your waist

"thank you cutie, I´ll wear it all the time and think of you"

the sounds of kissing fill up the kitchen, softly savoring each others company and leaving behind the rest of the world when you keep feeling his passion grow in the kisses, moving his hands to your ass, squeezing it firmly and moaning quietly into the desperate kisses

" I have something for you" he says suddendly, pulling away from your lips, glazed swollen mouth luring you back in

Confused, you tilt your head, playing with some of his strands,

"For me? On your birthday?" you frown, but he just kisses it off, making both of you giggle,

"Let me show you" with that, you're hoisted up in his arms, his hands full of your ass and your legs snug around his slim waist, walking up the stairs to the bedroom

He gently sets you down on the bed, moving over to his closet and pulling out a shopping bag from behind his jackets,

"Jungkook.. why?" you pout, his selfless nature making you feel terrible but loved all at once,

with a sly look, he hands you the bag,

"Look inside, it's a present for myself but with your help" his arms lay back, tricep flexing while his gaze sharpens when you pull out a tiny, fluffy white set of lingerie

Your mouth is hung open, looking at him with pink cheeks and disbelief to which he smirks,

"Come on, baby, there's two more. Pick you're favorite so i can fuck you in it" he says, watching as you nervously pull out a trqnsparent pink nightdress and a black, shiny bralette with matching lace bottoms

"Kook oh my god" you giggle, hiding your face beneath your hands,

He responds by prying your hands away immediately, his eyes burning through you with lust, lips finding your jawline

"Tell me pretty.. which one?" he repeats in a sweet whisper,

"You pick...s'your birthday" already begining to moan and crave his touch more,

He pushes you down onto the bed, sliding down your pants and panties,

"Pink.. you look so good in everything but fuck, when i saw that little pink dress i knew i had to buy it for you" he mutters, pulling your shirt over your head before lifting your torso to unclasp the bra you're wearing

Bare, needy and flustered sprawled out on the bed before your fully clothed, erect boyfriend.

He groans softly, running his hands down your stomach, "you're beautiful, i need you so bad baby, you have no idea"

You've never felt more beautiful than in this moment, the love and adoration in your boyfriends eyes making you feel like there was no one who could compete, naked and vulnerable but secure and cared for all at the same time

"Kook.. please, i need you too" you're rubbing your thighs together for the tiniest bit of relief

He reaches back to the pink lingerie, "arms up angel"

You listen well, he pulls the soft fabric over your body, stopping right below your feminity

The fabric is see through, round breasts on full display below, the curve of your waist exentuated by the flow of it,

"You can't even imagine how beautiful you are, you make me crazy baby"

His lips muffle your moans, making out slow but intense while he explores what he has come to know better than anything else the past years, running his hands all over your curves and finding your stiff nipples to rub through the fabric

"Nhmm kook.. please take this off" you mumble between whines, tugging at his shirt

He smiles, "anything for you" discarding the calvin klein top somewhere on the floor, followed by his jeans that are dragged down, leaving him in his grey boxers that posess a small patch of precum

"You're so pretty" you tell him, genuinely in awe at his state, messy long mullet making his doe eyes stand out, honey colored skin decorated with tiny moles and that unfairly small waist,

Muscular thighs flexing when he crawls back over you, his tattooed arm reaching down to caress your inner thighs,

"thank you sweetheart" he says, pressing a kiss to your lips before his head hovers over your chest, looking up to you

Your head is tilted down, keeping eye contact while your lips quiver and your hands get lost in his hair,

Slowly, his tongue darts out, licking over your clothed nipple and monitoring your moans become louder, the heat rushing to your face

"Mnhm!" you whine, shutting your eyes but he only latches on more, sucking with a satisfied smirk, alternating between breasts to distract from his hand that creeps to your wet cunt, cupping it with little rubs

"Wanna pound this little pussy" his words shoot to your core, raspy and desperate in the way he says them

You nod pathetically, not in the state to give proper replies anymore

He manhandles you to be pushed back legs up on his shoulders, exposing yourself to him entirely

He smiles down to you, pumping his length a few times before lining up to your soppy entrance,

"Ready angel?"

you give him a reqssuring smile to which he kisses your lips while pushing himself in inch by inch, gliding his whole cock desperately into your wamrth

"so tiny, so snug everytime" he says, licking over your lips while slowly thrusting into you,

"you feel so good kook, faster please" you're whining, nightgown bunching up with every thrust, the see through material making each rock of your body look like a work of art, complentary to your skin tone, pointing out the blush on your cheeks

He looks down at you, one arm steady on your hip while the other is caressing one of your legs on his shoulder,

"You're so beautiful, i can't last long like this baby" he's a mess, moaning loudly and fully entranced with your body and voice, the clench of your cunt sucking him in, his tip is throbbing, hitting deep within you

Jungkook already feel his orgasm about to hit him, just when he wants to pull out to pleasure you instead, you stop him,

"Please kook, cum first, cum all you want, keep going until you can't" you're whining, looking at him with pleading eyes and he can't help but curse, continuing to fuck into you harder,

His cum splurts inside of you, he pushes it in with a couple more strokes, panting while his cock is still hard and pulsating in your cervix

He pulls out, leaning down to kisw your clit

"Let me make it up to you pretty" reaching for the nightdrawer, you knew exactly what was about to happen

With the small pink toy between his tattooed fingers, he tells you to sit on his cock,

You let yourself down on him with a loud moan, this new angle making you feel him even deeper, desperate to start grinding on him

He's moaning too, still sensitive from the prior orgasm, nonetheless, one hand grips your hip as you start rocking back and forth with his dick stuffed deep inside you

The other one switches on the toy, pressing the buzzing nub to your clit

"Oh fuck kook" you're a mess now too, rapidly humping on his dick and rubbing your clit against the little vibrator on it, his eyes close, feeling your walls clamp down on him with every hasty roll of your hips

He's groaning, moving the hand from your hip to one of your tits, playing with it

"Gonna cum! S'too much baby i'm gonna cum" you warn him, grinding having switched to bouncing up and down on his thick length, his cum from earlier covering his cock, spilling down from your pussy along with your own slick

He feels his own high approaching, encouraging you to keep going a little longer while he keeps pressing the toy on your abused little clit

"Okay..okay cum now baby, cum with me" he whines, once he feels you loosen around him, a string of whimpers leave your lips aswell

He switches the toy off, snapping his hips into you from below and finally cumming himself, filling you to the brim with all that he has left in him

"Mhm.. god that's so good.. so good baby.." he says, chest rising from the intensity,

You collapse on top of him with a weak, satisfied smile,

"Awh... pretty girl" he coos, flipping both of you to the side so he can wrap you in his arms and pull out,

Your head nuzzles back from him to look at his pleased face, stroking his naked chest with your small fingers,

"I love you so much" you tell him, pressing sweet kisses to his neck,

He feels heavenly right in this moment, wrapped up with the love of his life on his birthday, pleased and in the confines of his own home

"I love you more angel..thank you for the amazing birthday" he says, stroking your hair and pressing small kisses to his head

"Happy birthday baby, you deserve it" you reply, smiling against his skin

You can feel the cum begin to run down the inside of your legs, sticking to your skin,

They feel weak and sore, so you do what you usually do,

"Baby? Do you mind helping me clean? It feels sticky" you cringe your face Upwards, upon noticing it he smiles, nodding and moving to lay you flat on your back, pulling the nightdress down after

You think it's because he's gonna dress you in your pj's after cleaning you up, instead, his hands fumble with the fluffy white lingerie

"Kook?" You ask curiously

"What's up angel?" non chalantly, he moves over you to dress you in the small panties,

"What are you doing?" you're kicking your legs, chuckling at his behavior

Should have known he isn't done after you only came one time

He smiles too, holding you still and struggling to put on the panties to your body,

"There's two more sets baby, let me eat you out nicely, you only came once" he says, kissing your ankle

without wanting to protest and just getting ready to recieve your pleasure, you smile, already spreading your legs for him to creep in between

"You drive me crazy" you tell him with a lick of your lips

"If only you knew" he says, moving to work himself up to put on the matching bra

[onlygarden]

[too much, baby?] - yang jungwon

genre: smut

description: dom jungwon, unprotected sex, rough sex, jungwon just can't stop himself, a bit of size kink, jungwon likes when you cry, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

a/n: to the anon who requested this, i hope it meets your expectations and i do apologize if you were expecting it to be shorter but i unfortunately cannot stop rambling when it comes to jungwon.

the tranquility of the afternoon floats throughout your home as jungwon enters the bedroom with the sole purpose of admiring you, his lovely girlfriend. he was always captivated by an overwhelming sensation of surreality whenever he took in everything that comprised you. the beauty that forcefully beamed out of you was so mesmerizing he couldn’t look away from you even if he wanted to. why would he ever want to to do that, though? your existence itself far surpassed the confines of realism. to jungwon, you just couldn’t be real.

astonishment shook him as he took notice of the clothing that relaxed around your body. the large white shirt that belonged to him (needless to say) complemented your body without even hugging any part of it. your tiny body always made his clothes look so big, and he was enraptured by that alluring contradiction. he notices your lack of clothing too; beneath his large shirt, you shamelessly donned no bra, and he only assumes you’re wearing panties since your legs stand completely bare. 

if he pounced on your unsuspecting figure right now, you would willingly oblige to any manner he decided to mistreat your body in. he knew just how far to go with you, and you would always let him ring you out completely dry, anyway. 

“what are you doing, noona?” jungwon suddenly questions you, his slim figure approaching you, shoulders broad as ever. your throat grows tight as you watch the way jungwon places his hand upon the dresser you’re currently folding clothes in. he was so close to you, and he loomed over you like he was trying to hold you captive. 

“just folding clothes,” you answer simply, finally carrying your eyes to meet his. your hands freeze their actions as jungwon’s expression flings you into a state bordering on fright. 

he stood above you, gazing down onto you with an unsettling gloom in his eyes. though dull, his eyes pierced into you like he was trying to tame an inner unwavering desire. what got him like this?

his finger casually lands upon your thigh, directly below the hem of your shirt. he drags it upwards with deliberate pacing, his eyes patiently attached to the skin his finger carefully reveals. he stops once he sees a trace of your lacy thong; his eyes fall shut as he exhales, and he opens them to return his sinister gaze to you. 

“are you doing this on purpose y/n? do you want me to make you cry?” 

your breath hitches, and you’re not sure if your body was surging with heat or chills. the words that tumbled from his lips hurled your mind into a complete frenzy. god he was so blatant, and he was always violently throwing you off track with his sudden tenacity. 

“jungwon,” you start, only to be interrupted by his entire hand now moving underneath your shirt, gliding along the course of your waist as his relentless gaze returns to your body.

you remove your hands from the drawer, steadily inching it closed before jungwon slams it shut with impatience. your body flinches vaguely.

he glides his other hand underneath your shirt, both hands grabbing your waist as he forces you to face him completely.

“i’m gonna make sure you don’t ever think about teasing me like this again,” jungwon says, his low voice almost distracting you from his outlandish words. you weren’t getting him riled up on purpose, you would’ve never even guessed he’d make such a sudden switch when he joined you in the room. 

his body presses directly against you as he guides you towards the bed, lifting you up to toss you onto it before you can even feel it behind you. 

climbing on top of you, jungwon immediately moves to pull his shirt off of your body. he hurriedly tugs your panties down your legs, and you feel the lace scrape against your legs before they’re completely removed. 

his hands return to your body with greed, pushing your thighs apart and shoving a finger inside of you. he sighs as his finger becomes drenched in your slippery essence, the intensity of your wetness leaving him astonished since he had only touched you a few times. he doesn’t flash a trace of pity as he shoves another finger inside of you, starting at a brutal pace. 

“i barely touched you, aren’t you ashamed?” he asks, ridiculing you. you just couldn’t control the way your body reacted to him, your insides always melting just for him, all your sensible judgment readily surrendering to the mere idea of him touching you. 

the feeling of jungwon’s long, slender fingers punishing your insides began to bury your senses in devastating pleasure. he’s sure to watch you intently, catching every twitch, moan, and sigh his fingers force out of you. he pushes the palm of his hand against you clit, enjoying the way you clamp onto his fingers, making it more difficult for him to pump them in and out of you. 

your orgasm approaches quickly, demolishing your senses and overriding them with pleasure that truly seemed to be too much, but jungwon can’t bring himself to stop. 

“jungwon, stop! please!” you beg pathetically, moaning through your words to the point of them almost becoming indecipherable. 

“i don’t want to,” he says simply, his low voice still making your mouth water. jungwon admired your body underneath him, his expression somewhat brooding. the sight of you writhing beneath him further aggravated his urge to push your body into the mattress and fuck you to tears. 

“give me another one, i know you can,” he says, wanting your mind to be nothing more than a cloud that swirled with thoughts of him. 

after much denial and idle refusal, you came around his fingers one more time, your proper thinking drifting away from you as jungwon pulled his fingers out of your leaking pussy. 

you looked absolutely delirious, just how jungwon wanted you to be. the only thing your mind could prompt you to do now was beg and plead for jungwon. 

properly satisfied with your pitiful condition, jungwon strips himself of his clothes, beyond eager to plunge himself deep into your wetness. his hardened cock twitched in anticipation.  

you spilled so generously that it flowed out of you, creating a puddle beneath you. jungwon adored the sight before him, loving the way you bloomed just for him.

“you made a huge mess, baby,” jungwon says softly. “aren’t you sorry?” 

you whine as he pushes your thighs towards your chest, moving to line himself up with your entrance.  

he sinks into you hastily, pounding you with ferocity and speed from the start. a low, breathy moan escapes him as he relishes the feeling and the sounds of your slick pussy latching onto him. 

“i asked you a question,” jungwon reminds you, looking down at you with a stony expression decorating his face. 

how were you ever supposed to even begin to formulate an answer to his question when jungwon’s long cock was stretching you open, plowing further inside of you than you could ever dream about, and absolutely abusing the most delicate part of your body with hunger.

“sorry! i’m sorry!” you manage to blurt out, moans entwined with your words and you can only hope he accepts it as an answer. 

“i know you are,” jungwon says as he slips his length out of you. he flips your body over, negligent to any discomfort he might cause you; all he’s concerned with is forcing you open. 

you’re laid on your stomach, and jungwon pushes one of your legs upwards, giving himself a clear entrance to the warmth that he can’t wait to bury himself in. 

he rams back into you, his pace just as brutal as before, and the weight of his body against you pins you to the bed. 

“did you think i’d let you walk around here in my shirt and not do anything about it?” jungwon asks with no real expectation of an answer this time. one of his hands grabs onto your hip, mercilessly squeezing as he thrusts into you with increased severity. 

he bites onto your shoulder from behind you, furrowing his brows and groaning near your ear so delightfully as he savors every bit of your divine pussy. 

“you’re so tiny baby, all you can do is lay here and take what i give you,” jungwon says, unable to contain himself at the way your body is trapped underneath his larger frame.

tears begin to pour out of your eyes as you become submerged by jungwon’s relentless pummeling, your clit grazing against the mattress below you. your orgasm was reaching you fast. 

“jungwon, stop!” you suddenly cry, not actually wanting him to stop, your words purely emerging from your internal feud to wrangle (or simply process) the pleasure coursing through your body. 

he would never move on from how breathtaking you looked in this moment. 

“i told you i’d make you cry, baby. even if you think it’s too much, you deserve it,” his words are propelling you further into hysteria than you were ever prepared to reach. 

he grabs one of your wrists, squeezing it and pinning it beside you, as his breath traces your ear in a deep moan. you breathing grows rapid, your legs beginning to quiver beneath him as you cum onto his length, moaning for him beyond your control. jungwon continues to forcefully grace you with his thrusts, unsparing in the way he pounded you through your orgasm. 

“your little pussy can barely take it, baby,” jungwon grabs onto your thigh, letting out low, breathy moans as he floats closer to his high.

you feel overwhelmed as he continues his inhumane treatment of your body, barely recovering from your own orgasm. 

as he reaches his high, he stammers out a groan, gripping your thigh to a painful degree, earning blaring moans from you. 

jungwon collapses onto you, his full weight pressing you further into the mattress, his heavy breath stroking your face. he takes a few moments to caress the side of your body before lifting himself up, and sliding his length out of your exhausted figure. 

“i’ll clean you up, noona,” jungwon gently mutters, leaving the bed to prepare a washcloth. 

when jungwon returns, he carefully turns your body over, noticing just how drained he left you.

“i’m sorry for wearing you out, baby,” he laughs a bit, running the warm, wet towel along your body, massaging the parts of you he punished with his grip. 

“no you’re not,” you jest tiredly, smiling up at your tender boyfriend.

jungwon chuckles. “you’re right, i’m not,” he pokes back, a wide smile stretching out his face when you reach out to slap his chest. 

jungwon lifts your upper body to a sitting position in order to drape his shirt over your frame, gently laying you back onto the bed after you’re dressed. he chuckled at the way your tired muscles nearly gave out from simply sitting up, the blame lying in the rough way he preyed on your body. 

jungwon dresses himself in lounge clothes before joining you on the bed, pulling your body directly against his until your back touched his chest. “you did well for me, baby,” jungwon says, running his hand across the dip of your waist in appreciation. “i’ll try to contain myself while you’re wearing my shirt this time,” jungwon laughs when you contribute to his teasing (much to his enjoyment), and gently elbow him where he lay behind you.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

can i hold it?

words: 2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, piss kink!!!, getting peed on haha lol :), shower sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex

you whine as rafe tries to pull away from you, making him laugh and press a kiss to your cheek. “just going pee baby.”

“take me with you.” you raise your arms up.

“to the bathroom?” rafe questions, raising his eyebrow.

“yeah.” you nod. “you said we could spend all day together, if you’re leaving this bed then so am i.” “alright, suit yourself.” rafe shrugs, leaning down to pick you up bridal style, walking the short distance to the attached bathroom. he sets you down on the counter as you stretch, having been cuddling and kissing since you arrived at rafes house, not wanting to do anything else.

rafe walks over to the toilet, flipping the lid up. you watch with fascination as he pulls at the tie on his sweatpants, the string unraveling so he can push them and his underwear down before pulling out his cock.

“wait.” you interrupt rafe.

“what baby? i really gotta piss?” rafe asks with a sigh.

“can i hold it for you?” you ask, not able to keep the excitement from your voice. “you know, while you pee.” “sure.” rafe shrugs. “but hurry the fuck up, i’m about to burst.” rafe had stayed in bed as long as he possibly could as to not break your relaxed state, which only led to urgently needing to go.

you quickly hop off the counter. you gently grab rafes soft dick, having only touched him a few times when soft, and always with the intention of getting him hard quickly.

you aim towards the toilet bowl, gasping when rafe begins to pee. you watch in fascination, surprised how much you like the feeling in your hand, even a little saddened when he finishes.

“gotta shake it a little baby.” rafe instructs, making you look at him with confusion in your eyes, wondering if he was just wanting you to give him a handjob.

“to get the last few drops out.” rafe explains.

“oh.” you nod, turning back to look at his dick, shaking it a little as final drops of piss fling off his tip.

“perfect.” rafe smiles, taking his cock and tucking it back into his underwear. “thanks baby.” “you’re welcome.” you smile, knowing you need to recreate the experience again immediately.

rafe heads back towards the bed, expecting you to follow as he flops down. “i… i gotta go get a drink of water.” you say quickly, rushing out of the room and towards the kitchen, getting a glass for yourself and one for rafe, making sure to fill his up fully.

“got one for you too.” you smile as you come back into the room, handing the glass to rafe who takes a hearty sip but then sets it on the nightstand. 

“thanks princess.” he smiles. “now come give me a kiss.” 

you wrap your arms around rafe as you fall into the bed, his lips finding yours as you cuddle up to him, legs twisting together.

“i love days like this.” you admit with a happy sigh, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “where we can just relax alone.” “i love it too, baby.” rafe says softly. “sorry i’ve been so busy lately. shits just been wild. but we are home together now.” “thank you.” you mumble, running your lips teasingly over rafes until he can’t resist any longer, pushing forward to complete the kiss. rafe has been busy over the past couple of weeks, which resulted in you barely getting any attention, so he cleared the entire day just for the two of you, no plans, no friends, no parties, just the two of you.

“can i pick the movie?” you ask rafe, even though he always lets you chose (except that one time he really wanted to watch john wick)

“of course.” rafe hands you the remote, and you quickly get to work pulling up a film. “ponyo!” “you love ponyo.” rafe says with a roll of his eyes. he discounted the film based on the cutesy style, but always really enjoys every time you choose to watch it.

“shh. be quiet and drink your water.” you mumble, reaching for you own glass as well, hoping if rafe sees you drinking that it would spur him to gulp down more, and thankfully he does take a drink.

you cuddle up to rafe as the movie begins, watching as he occasionally drinks more of his water, almost absentmindedly until the glass is empty.

“i’ll get you a refill!” you tell rafe, about to jump off the bed when he stops you.

“baby, you love this part?” he questions, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “i’ll get the refill.” 

“mmkay.” you nod, leaning back against the pillows as rafe exits the room, glass in hand as your eyes drift back to the tv, ponyo using her magic powers to make the toy boat increase in size. 

you smile at rafe when he returns, also with a small bowl of cashews to snack on. you’re happy he chose a salty snack as he takes even more frequent drinks until you get to the ending of the movie, singing along and doing a little shimmy as the song plays over the credits.

“you’re so cute.” rafe smiles, setting his now empty bowl down onto his nightstand. “gotta pee again, wanna hold it?” “yes!” you squeal, following rafe with excitement as he heads into the bathroom.

“jesus, baby.” he laughs at your giddy face. “didn’t think you’d like holding it while i pee this much.” “i don’t know why.” you admit, rubbing your thighs together subconsciously, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by rafe. “i just really like it. makes me feel close to you.” you lean forward and press a kiss to rafes cheek, having to get up on your tiptoes to reach.

“wait… is that why you got me water? so you could hold it again?” rafe laughs, placing his hands on his hips. 

“maybe…” you mumble, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.

“baby, did you choose ponyo because of the water? thought it would make me have to go even faster?” 

“rafey, just pull it out!” you whine, surging forward to tug at the string of his sweatpants, unraveling it.

“you like my piss so much, i should go on you.” rafe scoffs, tugging the front of his pants down and pulling out his dick, but you don’t reach for it, your eyes wide and legs clenched together. rafe notices your reaction, smirking when he realizes just how much his words affect you.

“you want that huh? take your clothes off.”

“wh-what?” your eyebrows raise.

“well, unless you want me to piss all over your clothes, take them off. and get in the shower.” rafe says, tugging his own shirt off.

“o-okay.” you nod, quickly stripping your clothes off, glad that you’re not wearing much. you head into the shower, hands shaking in nerves and anticipation.

“well, kneel down.” rafe says, making you jump as he steps in behind you, also completely naked. you nod and kneel down, eyes wide as you look up at rafe.

“not… not the face, please.” you tell rafe. you’re not sure about it yet, you’re not even sure if you’d like his piss anywhere else on your body, but you desperately want to feel it.

“you control that, baby.” rafe says with a chuckle. “you’re holding it, remember?” “right.” you nod, reaching forward to grasp rafes dick, still mostly soft but you can tell he’s aroused and trying to hold it back. you aim towards your bare chest, letting out a gasp when rafe begins to pee, the stream landing on your tits, nipples instantly perking up as the warm stream spreads over them, then down the front of your belly. 

a moan forces its way out of you when the piss glides down your body, pooling between your legs. since rafe was so hydrated, there’s almost no smell, his stream mostly clear as he finishes. you smile up at rafe, unable to control your expression, clearly letting him know how much you enjoyed it. you even remember to shake the last few drops out.

“such a good girl.” rafe leans down, pressing a kiss against your grin.

he helps you stand up before continuing to kiss, your hand still wrapped around his cock as rafe operates the shower one handed, making sure to turn the shower head away as it warms up, turning on the water to clean you off.

“before we get you all clean-” rafe says, your hand now beginning to stroke him when you feel how hard he’s getting against your palm. “let me get you a bit dirtier.”

rafe shoves your hand away before gripping your thigh and tugging it up around his waist, using his other hand to guide his cock towards your entrance. you moan as he doesn’t tease you at all, immediately sinking his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside of you.

rafe gives you a second to adjust, despite being sopping wet. “my dirty little whore. wanting me to piss all over you.”

“i… i liked it a lot.” you admit shyly, wiggling your hips slightly.

“i can tell, baby.” rafe lets out a laugh, beginning to snap his hips forward. “gonna use you like that a lot more often.” he says, thrusting into you with rapid pace, his hand moving to your clit, knowing either of you will be able to last long.

your hands grip his strong shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath your fingertips, pulling him even closer so your chests rub togethers, stimulating your still wet nipples.

“can’t believe you used ponyo to make me have to pee.” rafe laughs. 

“i did what i had to.” you gasp out as his fingers rub faster, dipping down lower towards your entrance to collect more of your wetness on his fingers before gliding upwards.

“gosh, i’m never gonna get to piss alone ever again, am i?” rafe says, but he doesn’t mind, not when it clearly turns you both on so much.

“never.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as you press the back of your head against the shower wall.

“gonna cum for me princess?” rafe asks. truth is, you’ve been moments away since he first agreed to let you hold it.

“yeah.” you nod quickly. “yeah, gonna cum for you rafey.”

“go ahead, doll.” rafe smirks, snapping his hips forward until you let out a gasp, body shaking against the cold tiles as you cum, cunt pulsing around rafes cock, pushing him over the edge as well as he cums with a grunt, pushing into you as he releases.

“fuck!” you whine out, reaching down to shove rafes fingers away from your clit, needing a reprieve as he gently grinds into you, riding out his high.

“oh my god, baby.” rafe groans, dropping his head into the crook of your next. “that was so good.”

you let out a small giggle as your fingers reach to the back of his head, gently rubbing your fingers against his scalp through the short cropped hair.

“you’re lucky i don’t have to piss again.” rafe says, thrusting ever so slightly in again to show what he means.

“can… can you try in there next time?” you glance down.

rafe smiles as he pulls out, his cock flopping out of you as he slowly lowers your leg from around his hip, knowing you’ll need a moment to regain your balance as he keeps his chest pressed against your body, holding you upright against the wall. “just pissed on you and you already want me to piss inside of you? damn baby, i didn’t realize my sweet girlfriend was such a freak!”

“shut up.” you say with a roll of your eyes, a smile on your lips as rafe turns the shower head back towards the two of you, warm water running over your body as your eyes sink closed, already reminiscing in the memory of kneeling before rafe.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @ladyinbl00d @juniebugg

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part eight)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

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The Sunday morning sky is cloudy, offering hardly any sunlight to shine into your dorm room. Considering the tangled, dreary way you woke up feeling, it’s fitting.

Liv comes over with smoothies from an on-campus juice bar.

“They call this one Hangover Cure,” she says as she hands you a tall, plastic cup. “So I got us both the biggest size.”

You smile and thank her, feeling like you have more of an emotional hangover than a physical one. You sit up in your bed as she sits in your desk chair, swirling the straw in her drink.

“So, what happened last night?” she asks.

You shrug and look down. You’re not sure you should hook up with Rafe anymore. You don’t understand how he can call you perfect and beautiful and baby during sex, but when you’re clothed, he acts casual. At best. At worst, he’s just a jerk.

You did share a tender moment last night at the party, but it lasted mere seconds before he turned the conversation sexual again.

“What always happens. We hooked up and I went home.” You take a beat. “You actually think he likes me?” Your voice is thin as you recall Liv’s text from last night.

“The jealousy on his face when I told him you were with Blake… was something else,” she tells you. “And the way he left with you?”

She gives you a knowing look and takes a sip of her drink.

“Do you like him?” she asks. Liv’s already heard all about your arrangement with Rafe, but whenever she hinted that it could be more, you laughed it off. You don’t laugh this time.

“I’d be an idiot to like a guy who tells me from the get-go that would never tie himself down with a girlfriend,” you say. “The jealousy was because he might lose his favorite booty call.”

“If you say so,” she says. You force yourself not to feel any hope from her words.

You think about the way Rafe looked when you asked him about his family last night. It was a small glimpse into a side you hardly ever see.

He does have a heart underneath all the attitude and temper and ego. And it’s clearly damaged. But you’re not going to make a fool of yourself hoping he shows it to you again, let alone opens it up.

“Anyways, look what Blake texted me,” you say. When you hand Liv your phone and she reads the message, she puts her hand over her mouth in shock.

“This is so cute,” she coos. “A man who directly tells you he likes you? That exists?”

“Apparently,” you say. “I think I’m gonna say yes.”

“You should,” Liv replies. “But, and don’t kill me for asking, would you say yes to Rafe if he texted you this?”

“He wouldn’t,” you say confidently, taking back your phone. “Okay, stop holding out on me. You made out with Sam? How did that happen?”

Your friend tells you about the rest of her night and you’re appreciative of the break from your own thoughts.

About half an hour later, Rafe is coming back from the gym when he hears your laugh coming from your room. He can’t pass up the opportunity to pound on your door.

“Too loud!” he calls, passing by. Liv gets startled and you laugh again, recognizing his voice right away.

“Asshole,” you quietly mutter. Liv looks at you for a moment, no doubt noticing the smile on your face.

After she leaves, you look at Blake’s text again.

Gotta be honest. I wanted to kiss you when we were in my room but you make me really nervous haha. Can I take you on a date? A real one. Not just a study date lol. All good if you’re not into it. Let me know.

While you haven’t always necessarily felt an overwhelmingly strong pull to Blake, you definitely have a crush. You wanted him to kiss you last night. Maybe you could make each other happy.

You reply: you don’t have to be nervous :) a real date sounds nice.

When Blake responds, you plan to go out to dinner together on Wednesday night.

On Tuesday, one of your floormates knocks on your door to tell you she’s having a party in the common room that night. Since alcohol isn’t allowed in the building’s public areas, she lets you know the booze will be hidden to give the impression that it’s a dry party.

You decide to take the invitation. It’s nearing 9 pm when you enter the large room, its walls already packed with a crowd of students you’ve seen around the building.

Music is playing under the overlapping conversations and bottles of juice and soda are scattered around the room. You’re sure they’re all made to look innocent but are spiked with booze.

You dive into conversation with a girl who lives a floor above you when you pick up a solo cup and fill it with juice, barely glancing at the table as the overwhelming aroma of vodka hits you.

Rafe will never turn down an invitation to a party. When he comes through the door, he sees you standing by one of the couches and chatting with someone. Like always, you look pretty as hell.

He looks to one of the tables in the room to see stacks of different colored solo cups behind pieces of paper, words scribbled in marker. It must be some sort of party game.

The pink cups are behind a note that says Taken; the purple, Down to Smash, blue, Single; green, It’s Complicated.

He glances at you again to see you holding a purple cup. Down to smash?

You’ve been chatting for a while now, your cup empty and your head already sort of buzzing from how much vodka was in the bitter juice. You look up from your conversation to see Rafe gazing at you from across the room.

You hate how he can be so relaxed, in a simple t-shirt and jeans and messy hair, and still look so good.

He has a ridiculous effect on you. You accept this as a fact when you realize you’re overjoyed to see him. He’s captivating without even trying.

It’s the type of happiness you feel when you see a good friend, you tell yourself.

Your heart skips a beat when he crosses the space, closing the distance between you. You tell the girl it was nice talking to her before Rafe inevitably interrupts you.

He approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Interesting choice,” Rafe says.

“What?”

“That,” he mumbles, pointing to your cup.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you laugh.

Rafe silently nods his head towards the desk by the door. You glance over to see writing in front of each stack of cups.

“Oh,” you say, brushing past him to look down at the spread. “I didn’t know the colors meant anything.”

You can still taste the juice you drank. The vodka was good, but the juice wasn’t.

“Yuck, I hate this flavor,” you say. Rafe looks over at the bottle you must have poured from.

You study the cups, and if you’re really honest, the green cup is the most fitting. It’s Complicated. Because you’re not looking to casually hook up with anyone else, yet you’re not devoted to someone. Single makes you look like you’re hoping to be in a relationship, when you already sort of like two guys at once.

“What’s complicated?” Rafe asks when you pick it up. He wonders if it’s because of Blake.

You give him that look he’s so used to by now, that look that somehow irritates him and turns him on at the same time. At least you didn’t pick up the Taken cup. He can still touch you if you let him.

For a moment, he imagines a world where he isn’t in a frat. Where you two meet like this, at a dorm party, and he doesn’t have to watch you get slowly taken away by a guy he introduced you to.

“I can’t explain it. That’s what makes it complicated,” you flirt with a smug smile. You decide to put the cup back, still holding on to the empty purple one, figuring you’re tipsy enough for a school night.

“Why not?” he asks, muttering his words angrily.

“Is being mad, like your default state?” you ask with a small smile. “Or are you just jealous?”

“What the hell would I be jealous of?” Rafe’s eyes dart away.

“Blake,” you reply bluntly. His blue eyes meet yours.

Does he not know how transparent he is? He was pissed when he learned you were with Blake last night. He basically yanked you out of the party.

“You know you could easily find another girl to fuck around with, right?” you say. “I know of two, at least.”

You think back to the girl he had moaning in his room and the girl he made out with at the mixer party.

“I wanna fuck around with you,” he says. You let out a disillusioned chuckle.

“Charming,” you mutter. The response tells you everything you need to know. He’s mad because he’s losing a fuck buddy.

“Are you with him or not?” Rafe asks sternly.

The conversation has ignited an alluring tension between you. You were considering stopping the hook-ups. But you melt under his gaze, head swimming, core heating.

You’re nobody’s girlfriend. Why not have great sex with a friend while you’re available?

“I’m not,” you say, looking down at your purple cup. “I guess this was the right choice for tonight.”

Despite the irritation and jealousy gnawing at Rafe, he happily surrenders to the rush of excitement prickling his skin.

“Why aren’t we fucking then?” he asks.

“We?” you tease, pulling at the string making him jealous just a little more. “I was thinking I should find someone else and put all my practice to the test.”

“Shut up,” Rafe says with a lazy smile, taking the empty cup from you and placing it on the table, replacing it with his hand.

It’s almost funny, considering he was so against holding your hand the night on the boat, but now does it in front of a crowd of people.

His grip is tight as you leave the room together. Pulling you out of parties to get naked with you is becoming a new habit of his.

You’re glad he doesn’t suggest going to your room. It’s easier to leave him after the sex than to be left.

With that thought, a moment of self-restraint hits you when his door slams behind you and his lips are on yours, hands cupping your face.

“Turn on some music,” you pull back to tell him. “Loud.” Hopefully it’ll keep him from talking. His tender words are too much if you want to protect your heart.

He flips on a playlist on his speakers. Of course he has one at the ready. You bet he has turned it on for lots of other girls.

The first few notes play. You love this song. You knew what kind of party music he liked, but who knew you’d have the same taste in slow songs as Rafe does?

Rafe’s mouth finds yours again, his tongue swirling gently, his body curving into yours as you stand in the middle of his room, the gentle music filling your ears.

You both have your own pace, so in tune with each other now. He knows where to touch you and when, stripping layers off you between heated, deep kisses.

Once you’re in your bra and panties, you realize this might have to be the last time. Because his lips and hands feel damn near perfect as they roam over you. Because now you can only hope you find another man who can touch you and push you out of your comfort zone like this.

You urgently pull his shirt off and shift to sit on the edge of his desk, pulling him in, cupping his firm shoulders. Rafe smiles, amused by you taking control. You really aren’t shy anymore.

“You want me to fuck you on my desk?” he mumbles against your ear over the music. He spoke, but as long as it isn’t misleadingly romantic, you’re okay with it.

He unhooks your bra, squeezing your chest tenderly.

This is just sex. And with the confusion and uneasiness you’ve been feeling, you desperately want to get lost in the pleasure you know he can give you.

“Be rough with me,” you urge. Rafe’s stunned by your words, feeling himself throb with need.

“Look at you telling me what you want,” he praises in your ear, unbuttoning his jeans.

Once his pants and boxers are off, his hands grip your knees, aggressively pulling your legs apart. He presses over the dampness in your panties with his fingers, watching you through hooded eyes as your breath hitches.

“You wet for me?” Rafe mumbles. The moistness between your legs is palpable without you even needing to touch yourself.

“Might’ve made a mess,” you answer, looking down as he stimulates your clit, brushing over your moistened panties. Your words are so hot to him that he almost feels dizzy.

“Shit, baby,” he groans. “I can’t fucking wait to be inside you.” His fingers slip under the band of your underwear, pulling them down your legs.

He pushes your knees apart again, even rougher this time, massaging your bare pussy, coating his fingers in your arousal.

You’re so wet, so sticky, that his cock is aching at this point. He’s so glad you want it rough tonight.

Rafe finds the small of your back, nudging you forward so you’ll tilt your hips up how he wants you to. He takes a condom out of his drawer and you grab it out of his hand, ripping open the wrapper and holding his cock as you roll it down.

It’s intoxicating to him, seeing how bad you’re craving him. How’d he get so fucking lucky to be wanted like this?

Once he can guide his tip into you, he shifts to hold your hips down and look you in the eyes as he jerks into you hard.

The sudden jolt causes you to hit the back of your head on edge of his top shelf and while you giggle, his brows furrow in concern. He brings his hand up, resting it where you hit your head, thrusting into you again and letting the shelf dig into his skin instead.

The gesture is tender but then again, almost everything Rafe does during sex is tender. Why can’t he be like this all the time?

His other hand cups your cheek, pulling back and pushing into you hard again. Your breath hitches at the pressure of him curving up into you like this in the new position.

His thrusts start quickening, the desk rattling against the wall, the music throbbing within the walls of his room. Your pulse is skyrocketing as you take in his aggressive pressure.

“Feel good?” he murmurs.

You nod, lost in the pleasure, eyes rolling. He gently tugs at the roots of your hair, coaxing you to tilt your head back and look at him with your eyelids half-closed and lips parted.

“Fuck, that’s nice,” he whispers. “Like you were made for me.”

This is the shit that brings your heart into something that is only supposed to be about your body.

You press your fingers against his mouth to shut him up, but he takes the opportunity to shift and kiss your palm as he pushes into you.

“Don’t say that stuff,” you mumble.

“What?” he whispers with a mocking chuckle. “Thought I taught you to take compliments.”

“Just don’t,” you urge, leaning in to meet his lips again. Rafe kisses you hard but pulls back, forehead pressed up against yours.

“You still don’t think you’re perfect?” he rasps.

“It’s… it’s not that,” you say. Fuck. He’s just making it worse.

“I thought talking was good,” he says, almost in a whine.

“Just stop,” you tell him, kissing him again.

Rafe hates being told not to speak when all he wants to do is tell you how good you feel, but he gives into the confusing request when he hears the desperation in your tone.

Hell, he’d stop talking for days if it meant he could have you like this.

He deepens the kiss, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth. You groan at the sweet pain, shifting to wrap your arms around his body.

This position isn’t enough. You want him to be able to thrust into you as deep as possible.

“On the bed,” you say urgently. He hates pulling out of you but follows your instructions, watching you drop your feet to the floor.

When you sink onto the bed, your ass in the air, your pussy glistening, his stomach rolls with excitement. He settles behind you, propped on his left knee and his right foot, guiding into you again, watching his cock disappear as you swallow him.

You arch your back and groan, your pulse hard in your ears as he goes balls deep into you. He starts to go so hard that you feel like he’s splitting you open with every frantic thrust, your fingers bunching into his pillow.

The music is too loud. He wants to hear your pretty moans. He shifts off of the bed and you look back in confusion, watching as he shuts off the music and comes back, burying into you again.

“I wanna hear you,” he says. You rest your forehead onto the bed, pushing back onto him as he slams into you. Admittedly, you want to hear him, too.

Your breaths are shallow with his fast pace, sweat coating your skin. His stomach is starting to ache from how hard he’s working his muscles.

“Touch yourself,” he orders. “Cum with me.”

You shudder as you find your swollen clit, rubbing just the way you like while he pounds in and out of you. Rafe loves the way his hands look gripping your hips, your ass recoiling with every move.

“You take it so good,” he says, voice ragged. “This pussy is mine. You’re fucking mine.”

You hate that his possessive words sound so nice to you. A deep pleasure starts to roll through you, your orgasm slowly reaching you. He can tell with the way you’re tensing that you’re close and he goes even harder, your skin slapping.

You moan and shudder through your peak, clenching around him. Rafe’s groan is deep as he feels his cock swell and tighten, releasing and spasming with hard jerks.

His chest is heaving as he pulls out, watching you limp to your side, your face soft and satisfied.

Rafe doesn’t bother to stand and clean up yet. He’ll worry about it later. He gives into the impulse to lie down behind you, his body curving against yours, arm wrapping over your chest.

Your eyelids are heavy as you come down from the high, thinking about the things he said.

“Turns out you need more pointers,” you say between heavy breaths. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that to a girl when you don’t mean it.”

“Like what?” he says into your ear.

“You know what,” you say. “I’m not yours.”

Rafe knows he fucked up by saying that. That’s the kind of shit a boyfriend would say. And he so clearly isn’t the boyfriend type and you so clearly see him as just a friend.

“Why are you so mad, huh?” he says, trying to dismiss the tension. “You’re acting like me in… what’d you call it… my default state?”

You laugh despite yourself. He feels an overwhelming sense of pride from making you smile when you’re clearly upset.

You try to sit up, but his arm is locked around you. His breath is warm and comforting on the back of your neck.

He doesn’t understand where you’re rushing off to. You told him aftercare was important. And for fuck’s sake, now he actually wants you to say and let him hold you for a little while.

You don’t like this. You two are getting dangerously close to cuddling. It’s like he’s trying to make you catch feelings for him. Just because he can separate affection from emotion, doesn’t mean you can.

“Hate to make you sad but I gotta go,” you quip. He exhales mockingly.

“I don’t get sad,” he says bitterly. This makes you still.

With those simple words, Rafe has said so much. You knew he was emotionally unavailable, but the clear disgust he has with the possibility of feeling sad is telling.

“Everyone gets sad,” you say. You think back to his father’s cruel scolding. “And if anyone makes you feel like you’re wrong for being sad, they’ve got their own issues.”

Rafe can’t wrap his head around this. He’s been told to man up all his life.

“Did you fall asleep?” you ask with a chuckle after he doesn’t reply.

“No,” he says quietly. “You honestly believe that?”

“What?”

He’s silent again.

“That it’s okay to be sad, you mean?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Of course,” you say. “What, you don’t?”

“It’s weak.”

You stare ahead at the wall opposite his bed, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but you think you can feel his heartbeat against your back. It’s gotten faster.

“Do you really think that? Or did someone make you think it?” you ask.

Rafe has never been challenged like this before. Whenever his father berated him for simply getting close to crying, he was told to grow a backbone. To stop his whining. His whole life.

“I really think that,” he finally says. If sadness wasn’t weakness, why did it always make him feel like he was breaking from the inside?

His coldness makes so much more sense to you now. It seems Rafe doesn’t allow himself to feel anything but anger.

“It’s a good thing you’re not the relationship type,” you say with a sardonic laugh. “Some advice, though? If you ever find a girl you want to be serious with, don’t make her feel shitty for being sad. It’s not weak to have feelings.”

Rafe wants to know if you said he’s not relationship material because he told you himself or if you really think it.

Then he scowls to himself. Why the fuck does he care?

“You’re just full of advice tonight,” he says with a smirk, his hand running over your ass.

“That’s why we started this, isn’t it?” you reply, closing your eyes for a moment to enjoy the sensation. “Speaking of, consider therapy.”

Rafe playfully and gently slaps your ass and you giggle, squirming out of his grip. When you try to get up again, this time, he lets you.

His eyes take you in as you pull your clothes back on, his head propped up on his hand, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. You look at him, noticing how flushed he is from how hard he went.

Normally, being watched like this would make you nervous, but you’re fine with his eyes on you. You actually like it. You’re not sure if it’s because of Rafe or if you’d feel this way with any guy now.

Rafe watches you as you get dressed, getting deep in your thoughts like you do sometimes. How are you so damn cute?

You’re reconsidering your idea of if this should be the last time having sex with him. It feels too good. You’re still buzzing. While you’re single, why can’t you casually hook up with him?

“Fuck, you’re fun,” Rafe says, his bright smile and deep dimples melting your heart.

Okay. This is why you can’t. You started this because you basically hated him when you decided on it. Now, you can’t imagine hating the sweet, complicated man lying in bed watching you.

Maybe this was the last time.

“I know,” you respond with a smile, copying his cockiness. You finish dressing yourself and rush out to take a shower, wishing the water could wash away the complicated feelings bothering you.

The next night, an hour before Blake said he’d pick you up, you’re getting ready, music playing loudly from your computer.

Rafe is trying to make sense of a syllabus as your music floats into his room. He thinks of last night and immediately wonders if you’re hosting someone. And having sex with them.

As you try on your third outfit, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: loud af… do i need to tell on you

You smirk.

You: dude it’s not even quiet hours

You calling him dude reminds him of the way you called Blake babe the other night. He forces away the memory.

Rafe: partying by yourself?

You: yup getting ready for a date

Rafe looks up from his screen, disappointment wrapping around him like a heavy blanket he can’t shake off.

His stomach sinks hard. Harder than it did the other night at the ABC party when he heard you were upstairs with Blake.

You’re slipping away from him. Anger pools in his stomach but he tries to act casual, teasing you like he always does.

Rafe: who tf would date you lol

You roll your eyes at the text.

You: people with taste… jerk

Rafe: just kidding

You: hate u

Blake pulls up in front of the dorm building ten minutes late, apologizing profusely for his timing. You laugh and forgive him, sliding into his car to see he got you a bouquet of flowers.

He takes you to a restaurant off-campus, pulling out your chair. You sit across from him, taking in the way he’s sitting up straight.

“You look cute,” he says.

“Thanks. You clean up nice, too,” you say. “Compared to the plastic bags you were in the last time I saw you.”

Blake’s smile is big, his laugh gentle.

“You have fun at the party?” he asks.

“I did.” And after it in Rafe’s dorm.

“Cool,” he replies. You nod, looking down at the menu. The way conversation between you moves reminds you of your study date. It’s not painfully awkward, but it’s not seamless.

You figure it’s nerves.

When your food arrives, Blake takes a picture of the table. Once you start eating, your discussion starts to flow a little easier, making jokes and pulling from topics you’ve discussed over the phone since you started texting.

Blake’s a gentleman, parking to walk you up to your door after he drives you home. His hand ghosts over your shoulder as you walk through the hallway, his touch warm.

When you stop in front of your door, Rafe can hear you talking. He saw Blake’s Instagram story. It was just a photo of food at a restaurant, but it doesn’t take a genius to know he was with you. The date you had was with him.

“You really liked the food?” Blake asks you for the third time. You chuckle at his nervousness.

“You picked well,” you reassure. “And thanks for the flowers.”

How original, Rafe thinks. He got you flowers.

A group of fellow residents pass by laughing. If Blake tries to kiss you, you probably won’t like it in such a public space.

“That was fun,” you say, stepping back a little, hoping he gets the hint that this isn’t the place to make a move.

“It was. Oh, we’re going to the beach on Saturday,” Blake tells you. “Not everyone, just a few of us. Bring Liv. Between you and me, Sam likes her.”

“Yeah?” you say with a laugh. “Sure. That sounds fun. I’ll invite her, too.”

“Great,” he replies, nodding.

“Good night,” you say. Blake gives you a tight grin and echoes the sentiment, stepping back to give you the space to open your door.

Rafe finds a text Sam sent him a few hours ago.

Sam: you alive?

Rafe hasn’t been to the frat house since the party last Saturday night. To be honest, he’s not sure how he can handle being around Blake. He can’t exactly lose his temper on his brother. His future at the frat will be shot.

But he wants to be at the beach if you’ll be there.

Rafe: yes lol whats the move this weekend

Thankfully, Sam mentions the beach plan Rafe overheard about. Maybe he loves to torture himself. Or maybe he just wants to take every opportunity to see you.

You pull up to the beach in Liv’s car on Saturday. The boys picked a good day to swim. It feels like a heat wave.

When you find the group of six guys, you’re happy to see that Rafe is one of them. He’s in his swim shorts, his baseball hat on backwards like usual.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” you say when he notices you. “Gross.”

“Shut up,” Rafe says with a smirk, flipping you off. He takes in how good you look in your dress, eager to see the bikini underneath. “Why the hell did you come? Brothers only.”

“Am I not basically one of you now?” you say, leaning over to greet Blake with a side-hug. Rafe’s smile disappears and he looks away.

Blake hands you a bottle of flavored seltzer and you look down at it, cocking your head, trying to figure out how to kindly turn it down. It’s the same flavor of spiked juice you drank last night.

“She doesn’t like that flavor,” Rafe mutters.

Blake meets his gaze, pulling the drink back towards his chest.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. Funny enough, you actually mentioned not liking it on your date when you were swapping hangover stories. He looks at you. “I knew that. Sorry.”

“All good,” you chuckle. “What else you got?”

Blake leads you to the large cooler in the sand and you steal a glance at Rafe, whose jaw is clenched tight.

As the afternoon goes on, you realize Blake is less nervous talking to you when other people are around.

The eight of you play a game of beach volleyball. Rafe considers Blake lucky that he’s on the same team as him. He’d whip the ball at him every chance he got if he were on the other side of the net.

At one point, Sam serves it so hard that you have to duck onto the sand, the ball bouncing off your arm, leaving a stinging feeling.

“You trying to kill her?” Liv scolds her teammate. You feel a hand cupping your forearm.

“You good?” You look up to see Rafe leaning over you, his voice deep.

“Yeah,” you say. Rafe is pissed off beyond belief that Blake is just standing there like an idiot, watching you instead of making sure you’re okay.

“You alright?” Blake asks from his place on the court in front of you.

“Yellow card worthy,” you joke, getting up on your feet.

When the game wraps up after you all decided to stop keeping score ages ago, Blake approaches you, looking down at you with a shy smile.

“You wanna swim?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say.

The water is so cold that it feels sharp, leaving you and Blake to laugh together with every step into the sea.

Rafe is sitting in the sand with his buddies, watching Blake’s hand find yours. The view makes his stomach turn.

It seems natural between you two, the way you touch, the way you splash each other and laugh together.

He gets the same feeling he did the night of the mixer party, when he felt like his anxiety over losing you wasn’t just because he was losing great, casual sex. It’s not only that. It’s more. And that fact makes him uncomfortable.

But that shit just doesn’t come naturally to Rafe. Affection is like a foreign language to him. He’s not into the boyfriend stuff solely because he doesn’t want to do it. It’s also because he can’t. He doesn’t know how to.

Buying flowers, planning dates… he’d feel totally lost. He can’t compete with Blake. Like Rafe always says, doing something serious like dating in college is a waste of time. Maybe he believes that because he didn’t think he’d meet someone like you. And because he doesn’t want to fail at it.

You and Blake stop when you figure you’re deep enough in the water, the sand soft beneath you, the sun shining down.

“I keep messing up today,” he says.

“What?” He looks down, shaking his head, lips twisting adorably. These cute, little moments remind you of why you have a crush on him.

“Can I kiss you?” Blake asks.

You smirk, relieved that you can finally do this and feel if your physical chemistry is there like you think it is.

When Rafe sees two figures join in the distance, his heart drops.

(part nine)

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[jacesvelaryons]

(Modern! Jace Velaryon x Female!Reader) Social Media AU

summary: Modern Jacaerys Velaryon is an heir to the Targaryen Corp, and also has a decent following on social media. You and him have the best time together, making the most out of life being young, beautiful and successful. Spot the cameos of our other HOTD characters in a lot less stressful circumstance where everyone gets along in modern day. 😅

a/n: please keep sending in your requests! i love hearing and writing for you guys. i’ll get them back to you as soon as possible alongside a ton of original work i plan to share. will post a previews of my upcoming work with their posters and all.

masterlist

requests OPEN

yourusername

liked by rhaenyratargaryen, laenorvel and others

date night with the love of my life

sarasnow hope you had a blast lovelies!!

liked by yourusername

↩️ random63 wasn’t sara rumoured to be jaces fling situationship before he got with y/n? 👀👀

↩️ person173 i think so but she cregan and jace have made it clear they’re all just close friends

↩️ user649 ofc sure 🤔

rhaenyratargaryen love you my darlings

↩️ yourusername love you too mama nyra 🩷🩷🫂

↩️ user0092 oh she got his ceo mamas approval this is SERIOUS

yourusername

⭐️

liked by laenavelaryon, sabithafrey and others

user725 she’s making the targ heir work for her i love it

↩️ fan92 as men should

liked by yourusername, baelatargs and rhaenatargeryen

alyblackwood you deserve it girl 😌

↩️ yourusername thanks pookie 😙

username366 wish my man would treat me like this too 😓

user271 now where is this dress from?

↩️ yourusername it’s @/versace luv!

jacaerysvelaryon

ibiza

taken by the beautiful @/ yourusername

liked by oscartully, joffreyv and others

baelatargs and where are the pictures of her? sick of seeing your face 😤

↩️helaenasbugs yes where is she?? 🤭

↩️ yourusername dw girls my pic dumps are coming soon 😭

yourusername youre so stunning baby

↩️jacesvelaryons no you are stunning babe

↩️lucerysvelaryon get a room please…

randomuser now why does joffrey have an ig he’s too young 🤔

↩️ rhaenatargs it’s just for roblox and minecraft updates he’s fine trust me 😭😭

yourusername

it’s all sea blue and sand from here. 🐚

liked by addamhull, yourgirlnettles and others

usernamehere oh to be the targaryen corp heir’s gf living a life of luxury

↩️ randomuser887 she’s a gold digger 😒

↩️ person1124 she don’t need no gold she comes from a comfortable family herself lol

↩️ user98 you’d go for the gold too imagine the life and besides he’s cute smart respectful and a gentleman i’d date him even if he was broke

↩️fan120 real

itsyourgirlnettles missed you luv! come over at driftmark more often

↩️ yourusername i don’t see you enough! promise we’ll hang one on one time more

↩️itsyourgirlnettles good luck to me to get your man off your arm even just for a few hours with ya lol

jacaerysvelaryon posted a story

creganstark

night out with the best bro

liked by kermitully, oneyedaemond and others

yourusername get home safely boys!

↩️usernamehere why didn’t you go girlie?

↩️ yourusername i’m always invited but im a grannie im in bed by 10 pm with a book winding down for the night 😅i come sometimes

↩️creganstark yeahhh you should come next time! had to deal with him fawning over you again 😐 don’t want your ego to get any bigger

↩️ yourusername hey! i’ll come next time i promise and my ego ain’t changing stark

jacaerysvelaryon missed you there my muse at my new set

↩️ yourusername i’ll be there next time i promise 😅 you know this isn’t my crowd but I’ll go for you

↩️ jacaerysvelaryon you missed my dedicated song to you last night i’ll have to play it again next time 😔

aegondeux yoo invite me over next time missed out the fun again

↩️helaenasbugs too busy at the bar that’s why 😒 why did you get out of rehab idiot

[reidmarieprentiss]

Too Damn Young: Part One

Summary: You and Spencer meet when you're both 18, you fall in love quickly and everything feels like a dream. Unfortunately, reality reminds you that sometimes even though people don't fall out of love, they don't always stay together.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (16+), loss of virginity (not described) young love, unhappy ending, divorced parents, emotional strain with mom

Word count: 11.5k

a/n: this is not a summer fling!!! they are in loveee and i promise there will be a part two and it will be happier!!!

main masterlist part two

It’s the summer after your senior year of high school, and you’re caught in that strange, in-between space where the world feels wide open but also incredibly small. San Luis Obispo, with its familiar streets and faces, starts to feel more like a cage than the cozy town you grew up in. Everyone around you seems to be moving on, heading off to college, or traveling to far-flung places, leaving you behind to figure out what’s next. You’re not sure what you want to do with your life yet, so for now, you’re staying put, even though it feels like the walls are closing in a little more each day.

“Feet off the coffee table, Y/N,” your mother sighed as she walked into the living room, her voice carrying the usual exhaustion and concern.

You glanced up from your phone, your feet still comfortably propped up on the coffee table. “You never cared before…” you muttered, not really in the mood for another one of these talks.

She sighed again, more deeply this time, as if she was bracing herself for what she was about to say. “Well, before, you were in school and not at home all day.”

You frowned, feeling the sting of her words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why don’t you get a job? Or go make some friends?” she suggested, her tone trying to be encouraging but not quite hitting the mark. “Oh! You could go walk on campus, maybe it will inspire you.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to hide your frustration. The last thing you wanted to do was wander around a college campus that wasn’t even yours, pretending to be inspired by something you weren’t sure you even cared about. But the way your mother was looking at you, with hope and a touch of worry, made you bite back the sarcastic response that was on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you just sighed and looked away, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on you. “Maybe,” you mumbled, not committing to anything, but not outright refusing either. You could tell she wanted you to do something, anything, to shake off this sense of being stuck. But the truth was, you weren’t sure where to start, or if you even wanted to.

—

Spencer Reid arrived in town carrying the weight of moving his mother into a mental care facility, something that’s left him feeling more vulnerable than ever. Starting his PhD program in a new place where he doesn’t know anyone is daunting, but there’s a flicker of hope that things might be different this time. He’s no longer the child prodigy being scrutinized by older students; now, at least, he’s finally an adult, and maybe—just maybe—people will see him as one.

He opened the door to his new apartment, the hinges creaking slightly as it swung open to reveal the small, yet functional space that would be his home for the foreseeable future. The apartment was modest, furnished with the bare essentials, but it was clean and had a certain charm, or so he tried to convince himself. This place was provided by the program he was a part of, a stroke of pure luck. 

Spencer set down his suitcase and took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to ground himself in this new reality. As he began to unpack and organize, the familiar rhythm of settling in started to take over, a ritual he had grown accustomed to over the years. But as he moved from room to room, he quickly realized something unsettling—he lacked a lot of the basic things that had always been provided for him in other housing situations, like the dorms and shared accommodations he had known before.

No dish soap, no paper towels, no trash bags—nothing that could help him actually live in this space comfortably. The realization hit him harder than it should have, maybe because of the long day, or maybe because of everything else weighing on his mind.

Spencer glanced at the clock. It was just past midnight. The last thing he wanted to do was venture out into the world right now, but he knew he had to. He couldn’t just sit here, surrounded by empty shelves and a lingering sense of displacement. With a resigned sigh, he decided it was time to go on a mission—a mission to find a store that was open this late.

He grabbed his jacket, mentally preparing himself for the challenge ahead. “How many people could really be out at 12 a.m. on a Tuesday?” he muttered to himself, trying to inject some optimism into his tone, though it came out more as a question than a statement.

As he stepped outside into the cool night air, the streets of San Luis Obispo were quieter than he expected, almost eerily so. The unfamiliarity of the town, combined with the late hour, made him feel like he was stepping into a different world altogether. But there was a certain solace in the solitude, a small comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t have to navigate crowds or make small talk with strangers.

—

You wandered down the aisles of the 24-hour market, the quiet hum of the overhead lights and the distant sound of a radio playing in the background the only noise in the otherwise silent store. It was strange to see it so empty, almost eerie, but there was a certain comfort in not having to navigate through crowds or make polite small talk with anyone. Tonight was all about one thing: satisfying that sudden, undeniable craving for your favorite ice cream.

As you rounded the corner into the freezer section, your mind focused on the treat you were about to indulge in, a sharp pain shot through your foot. "Ow!" you yelped, instinctively jumping back from the source of the pain—a shopping cart that had just run over your toes.

"Oh my god, I am so, so sorry! I didn’t see you there," came a voice from the other side of the cart, the owner of it looking every bit like a kicked puppy. His face was a mix of genuine concern and a hint of panic, as if this small accident was the last thing he needed tonight.

You bit back the initial irritation, quickly realizing this guy was already on the verge of a meltdown. "It’s fine, man, it’s not like there’s a lot of people around to watch out for anyway," you joked, hoping to ease the tension. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into some big, awkward thing.

He tried to laugh, though it came out shaky and unsure. “Ye—yeah, it’s pretty late.”

You nodded, sensing his awkwardness and suddenly feeling a bit of it yourself. "Yup, well, try not to run anyone else over," you teased lightly, giving him a small smile before stepping past him to continue your mission.

As you walked away, Spencer shook his head, his expression clouding over with self-reproach. He started mumbling to himself, words of self-criticism spilling out in a low voice, but you didn’t catch any of it. Your mind was already back on your goal, and when you finally spotted your favorite ice cream, all thoughts of the encounter slipped away. 

With your prize in hand, you made your way to the checkout and then headed home, unaware of the lingering impact that brief interaction had left on him.

—

Spencer finally felt like he had made his new apartment feel like home. The once-empty shelves were now stocked with cleaning supplies and other basic necessities, and though he wasn’t really one for decorating, the furniture provided by the campus and his own collection of books, awards, and memorabilia gave the space a sense of familiarity. It wasn’t flashy, but it was his.

Yet, after a few days of getting settled, Spencer began to feel something gnawing at him—a sense of being cooped up. He was no stranger to spending long hours alone, buried in his studies or lost in thought, but the endless California sunshine streaming through his windows, and the distant sounds of laughter and life happening outside, started to pull at him. The world outside felt alive in a way his apartment couldn’t match.

Spencer stood by his bookshelf, running a finger along the spines of his well-loved volumes, but the itch to get out and breathe the fresh air was undeniable. Maybe it was time to explore a little, to break up the routine and experience something new. He recalled reading about a bookstore down by the beach, a place that sounded like the perfect combination of quiet and lively—somewhere he could disappear into a sea of books but still feel connected to the world outside.

Grabbing his tote bag, empty and ready to be filled with new reads, Spencer slung it over his shoulder. With one last glance around his apartment, he stepped out, feeling a sense of excitement with a touch of nerves. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but he knew he needed to be out there, under that California sun, even if just for a little while. The bookstore by the beach seemed like the perfect place to start.

—

Your mom had really been on your case lately, pushing you to get out of the house and do something with your time. She’d made it clear that your late-night escapades didn’t count, much to your dismay. Each time you’d excitedly recount your quiet midnight walks or the random people you’d encounter, she would just shake her head, unimpressed. She meant during the day—when the sun was shining and the world was alive.

So, in an effort to appease her, you started to drag yourself out of bed each morning and head down to the beach. If you had to be outside, you might as well make the most of it. Lazing around on the sand didn’t seem so bad, especially when you could feel the warmth of the sun on your skin. You convinced yourself that at least you’d get a tan out of this forced outdoor time, right?

After a few days of this new routine, something caught your eye—a "help wanted" sign hanging in the window of a small bookstore that sat right along the sandy sidewalk of the beach. You paused, considering it for a moment. Working in a bookstore couldn’t be all that bad. After all, you loved reading. The idea of spending your days surrounded by books sounded infinitely better than more awkward mother-daughter conversations about your lack of daytime activities.

With that thought, you stepped inside and inquired about the position. The place smelled like old paper and salt air, and the sweet old man behind the counter greeted you with a kind, if tired, smile. He explained that he desperately needed help; his partner had passed recently, and he had been struggling to keep the shop running on his own. They had no children or kin to pass the shop along to, and he had resigned himself to working alone—until you walked in.

You applied on the spot and, to your surprise, heard back immediately. They really needed the help. The next day, you started as their first and only employee, stepping into a quiet world of books and stories just waiting to be discovered.

—

The bell above the door dinged, signaling a customer had entered the bookstore. You bookmarked your place in the novel you’d been reading and set it aside before calling out, “Welcome in.”

At first glance, the customer paid no attention to you, his focus solely on the shelves of books in front of him. But as you looked up from your counter, you froze for a second—it was the guy from the 24-hour market. The one who had run over your toes with his cart. For a brief moment, panic surged through you, the irrational thought crossing your mind that maybe he was stalking you. But that idea quickly faded when you remembered how adorably awkward he had been. And, if you were honest with yourself, even if he was stalking you, you might just be flattered. He was quite attractive—adorable in a geeky way, charming in an awkward way, and just plain handsome.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you slid off your stool behind the counter and walked over to where he was browsing, his nose already buried in the pages of a book. “Can I help you find anything?” you asked, leaning over his shoulder with your hands behind your back, trying to get a glimpse of what he was reading.

Spencer, completely absorbed in the first chapter of the book, didn’t hear you approach. He yelped and dropped the book, spinning around to face you with wide eyes. “Uh—um, no—no thank you, miss,” he stammered, clearly flustered both from the shock of your sudden presence and the quick realization that you were the same person he’d bumped into at the market. And now, seeing you up close in the daylight, he was even more struck by how pretty you were.

You chuckled, reaching down to grab the book he had dropped. “This is a good one,” you said, handing it back to him with a friendly smile. “I read it last week. I’d definitely recommend it.”

Spencer took the book from your hand, his own hands almost shaking. “Th-thank you,” he managed, clearing his throat. “Thank you…”

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, grinning a little wider. “And you are?”

“Spencer Reid. Uh, Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer Reid,” you teased, “it’s nice to see you again. Are my toes safe this time?”

Spencer blinked, and then recognition lit his eyes as he remembered. His face flushed with embarrassment, but he gave you a small, sheepish smile. “Yes, your toes are perfectly safe this time,” he assured you, still clearly flustered but trying to keep his cool.

“That’s good to hear,” you stifled a laugh, unable to resist teasing him further. “I can’t say the same about yours, though,” you added over your shoulder, turning to walk back toward the counter.

Spencer, intrigued and not quite understanding what you meant, quickly asked, “What? Why not?” He followed after you, just as you had hoped he would.

When you reached the counter, you nodded your head toward him, silently encouraging him to join you. He hesitated, glancing around the quiet, empty store, but when he saw no one else there, he finally gave in and walked over.

“She’s why,” you giggled softly, leaning down to scratch the head of an old tabby cat that had appeared on the counter. She purred loudly, her eyes half-closed in contentment. Spencer’s eyes softened at the sight of the cat.

“Oh, she’s so pretty,” he mused, leaning in next to you to scratch the cat as well.

“Careful,” you began to warn, “she—oh,” you said, surprised as Nala, the cat, nuzzled affectionately into Spencer’s hand. “She usually doesn’t take well to strangers, especially men.”

Spencer blushed a little, his eyes widening slightly in disbelief. “Really?”

You nodded, watching the way Nala practically melted under his touch. “Yeah, I guess you’re special,” you said, smiling at him.

And you weren’t wrong. As Spencer continued to visit the bookstore at least once a week, sometimes just to browse, sometimes to chat, you’d come to realize just how special he really was. Nala certainly knew it first, and as time went on, you couldn’t help but see it too.

—

“So,” you sighed dramatically, flipping through the newspaper in search of the crossword puzzle, “my mom is making me go out to our lake house in Lake Tahoe all by myself this year to check on it. She doesn’t want to go without her new girlfriend, and the girlfriend doesn’t want to go, period.” You rolled your eyes, clearly exasperated, as you vented to Spencer. He nodded along, his eyes fixed on you, absorbing every word like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I have to drive all the way there, almost seven hours, just to make sure the heat pump still works, the pipes didn’t burst during the winter, and all that other nonsense,” you continued, your frustration spilling out in each sentence.

Spencer seemed to mull over your words for a moment, the gears in his mind turning before he casually shrugged and said, “I’ll go with you.”

Your head snapped up, your voice jumping an octave. “What?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, more cautiously this time. “I mean, if you want me to. I could keep you company. I don’t know how to drive, but… you wouldn’t be alone.”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by his offer. “Wait—what? You don’t know how to drive? How old are you again?”

“Y/N…” Spencer’s face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes dropping for a second before he met your gaze again. “You know I’m 18, and you know I was a child prodigy. I didn’t have time to learn how to drive.”

The realization made you laugh, an idea immediately sparking in your mind. “I could teach you!” you said, jumping off your stool in excitement.

“No, no, that’s a bad idea,” Spencer protested quickly, shaking his head as if the thought of being behind the wheel terrified him.

“It’s a great idea!” you argued, grinning at him. “You come to Tahoe with me, and I’ll teach you how to drive. It’s perfect!”

Spencer hesitated, clearly unsure about the whole thing, but your enthusiasm was hard to resist. Even he couldn’t deny that the trip might be a little more interesting with you by his side.

“Fine,” Spencer finally relented, though the nervous edge to his voice lingered. “But on my terms.”

You grinned, raising your hands in surrender. “Deal! Oh my god, this is so exciting. Now I’m actually looking forward to it!”

Spencer smiled shyly, his heart doing an odd little flip at your enthusiasm. Over the past few weeks, he had realized that his crush on you had grown significantly, but he couldn’t quite figure out if you felt the same. Sometimes, he thought you might—there were moments when your smiles lingered a little too long or your teasing became just a little too playful. But then there were the times when you casually mentioned people asking you out, and it made him doubt whether you saw him that way at all.

“When are we going?” he asked, trying to push the uncertainty out of his mind.

“Oh, yeah, hah,” you laughed lightly, “We’d leave Saturday morning.”

“Oh!” Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “As in two days from now? Why are you just now telling me?”

“My mom just told me!” you said, shrugging like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Fair enough.” Spencer sighed, already mentally preparing himself for the trip. “I’ll go home and start packing. See you Saturday? Should I meet you here?”

You shook your head and handed him your phone, your fingers brushing against his as he took it. “Hmm, no. Here, put in your number and text me your address. I’ll pick you up.”

Spencer blushed, the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. “Okay…” he mumbled as he carefully entered his number into your phone, hoping his hands weren’t shaking too noticeably.

You took the phone back, flashing him one last grin before heading back to the counter. Spencer, now flustered and nervous about the weekend ahead, could only hope that maybe—just maybe—this trip would give him the chance to figure out where he stood with you.

—

As you drove along the winding roads leading to the lake house, Spencer's knuckles turned white as he clutched the door handle, his life flashing before his eyes with every sharp turn and sudden stop. Your driving might have been a bit... enthusiastic, but he found it hard to complain when he saw how happy you were, with the wind in your hair and a bright smile on your face. The open road seemed to breathe life back into you, away from home and responsibilities.

Spencer found himself utterly captivated. It wasn’t just the excitement of the trip—it was you. The way you belted out lyrics to your favorite songs without a care in the world, or how you launched into endless stories that would zigzag through a million different tangents before somehow snapping back to the original point. It was chaotic, but in the best way. In those moments, he could easily say this was already shaping up to be the best summer of his life.

At one point, you caught him staring, and with a mischievous smile, you asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Spencer shook himself out of his daze, heat creeping up his neck. “Oh, uh, you’re really pre—crazy. You’re a crazy driver,” he blurted out, sticking his tongue out playfully.

Your laughter echoed in the car, ignoring his slip-up as you teased, “You love it.”

Eventually, the car rolled to a stop in the driveway of your vacation home, a secluded and stunning house nestled right by the water. The lake stretched out in front of it, reflecting the trees and the sky in the stillness of the water. Spencer took in the sight, his unease fading as he realized just how beautiful and peaceful the place was.

“Wait…” Spencer said, a hint of mock worry creeping into his voice. “You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you?”

That startled a huge laugh out of you. “Shit, that was precisely my plan, but now you’ve ruined it!”

You both grabbed your bags and a few supplies from the car before making your way into the cozy lake house. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the scent of pine and the comforting warmth of the space. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement—it had been a while since you'd been here, and it felt like a retreat from everything back home.

“Okay!” you clapped your hands together. “Why don’t you go and take a look around? I’ll handle the checks really quick so we can just enjoy our time here!”

Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of awe as he wandered off to explore. The house was even more beautiful inside, with large windows showcasing the shimmering lake, tall ceilings, and wooden accents that gave it a rustic charm. It felt like the perfect getaway. He couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to be here, to experience something like this with you.

Despite growing up in Nevada, his family never brought him to places like this. His father had left when Spencer was young, and his mother’s declining health meant that traveling was difficult, even impossible at times. As he wandered through the house, looking at the furniture, the wooden beams, and the peaceful surroundings, Spencer felt a twinge of sadness mixed with gratitude. This was new for him—a taste of something he hadn’t even realized he missed out on.

“Hey, Spence, you good?” you asked, coming up behind him, startling him once again.

He jumped slightly, spinning around to face you with a sheepish grin. “Yup! Just… taking in the view.”

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, the gesture so casual yet intimate. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, soaking in the peaceful surroundings through the large windows overlooking the lake.

Spencer felt the warmth of your presence, the soft weight of your head on his shoulder, and for a brief second, the world outside seemed to fade away. He glanced down at you, trying to calm the flutter of his heart, feeling like maybe—just maybe—you were seeing this moment the same way he was.

—

The sky had turned into a blanket of stars, each one twinkling like a small firefly against the deep navy blue. The crisp night air had set in, making the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around yourself all the more comforting as you sat on the deck, gazing up at the infinite sky.

Spencer was sitting nearby, his eyes occasionally darting from the stars to you, as if he were trying to capture both views. His natural curiosity about the universe seemed to blend with the simple contentment of just being here with you. The soft sound of water lapping against the dock and the quiet chirping of night creatures made everything feel serene.

You noticed him shiver slightly from the cool breeze that had picked up, and without thinking twice, you lifted the corner of the blanket and turned toward him. “Hey, come join me under here. It’s freezing out.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his eyes widening as he processed the invitation, but after only a beat, he scooted closer, accepting your offer. He slid under the blanket beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he tried to get comfortable.

“Better?” you teased, a soft smile playing on your lips as you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

He nodded, the warmth from the blanket and your closeness making him feel more at ease. “Much better,” he replied, a shy but pleased smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly and leaned in just a little closer. “You know, Spence, I never pegged you for a stargazer.”

He glanced up at the sky again, his eyes shining with the reflection of the stars above. “I guess I’ve just never really had the opportunity to appreciate it. But this…” He gestured slightly to the sky and then to you, his voice soft. “It’s kind of perfect.”

You felt a warm flush at his words, your smile deepening as you nudged him playfully. “I’ll take the credit for the blanket and the company, but I can’t do much about the stars.”

Spencer chuckled, his laughter quiet and warm. “Well, you’re definitely making it better,” he said, his tone flirtatious but still unsure, like he was testing the waters. He shifted just slightly under the blanket, your shoulders now pressed against each other, the warmth between you a comforting contrast to the cool night air.

You turned your head toward him, catching his gaze in the soft glow of the moonlight. “I think you’re the one making it better, actually,” you teased lightly, the flirty edge in your voice impossible to miss.

Spencer’s breath caught for just a second, and he smiled—a real, genuine, and slightly bashful smile that made your heart skip. Neither of you said anything more for a moment, just sitting there, cozy under the shared blanket, watching the stars as the night wrapped itself around you.

—

The next morning, Spencer woke up feeling something he hadn’t felt in a long time—excitement. He jumped out of bed, an unusual spring in his step as he followed the delicious smell of pancakes drifting through the house. His heart was still fluttering from the night before, but the cozy warmth he felt with you had turned into something more eager and alive.

As he stepped into the kitchen, the sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks. You were standing at the stove, wearing the tiniest pair of shorts Spencer had ever seen, paired with a tight tank top that hugged your curves and rolls in ways that made his pulse race. His mouth went dry—well, until the smell of the pancakes reached him again, and he couldn’t tell if his hunger was for the food or… well, you.

You turned at the sound of his footsteps, flashing him a playful smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead! I know you’ve got a sweet tooth, so don’t even think about telling me you don’t like pancakes,” you teased, pointing a spatula at him in mock accusation.

For a moment, Spencer was utterly starstruck. You looked radiant, the soft morning light streaming in through the windows making you glow. But what really sent him reeling was how the thin material of your tank top clung to you, especially how your breasts pressed against it as you moved. He quickly looked up, his face already heating, but his brain seemed to short-circuit for a second.

“Uh, um, yeah, I love pancakes,” he stammered, trying his best to sound normal. “Thank you.” 

You smiled sweetly, seemingly unaware of the internal chaos you’d stirred in him. “Good, because I made way too many,” you said with a wink, plating up a stack of pancakes and setting it on the counter. “Come on, grab a seat. They’re best when they’re hot.”

Spencer nodded, his movements slightly robotic as he took a seat, forcing himself to focus on the food and not how close you were as you set the plate in front of him. The morning air was warm, but the atmosphere between you two felt even warmer. As you sat down across from him, he couldn’t help but feel like something was shifting between you—something exciting, and possibly dangerous for his already fragile composure.

—

That afternoon, you and Spencer strolled through the charming town center of Lake Tahoe, taking in the relaxed vibe and the quaint shops lining the streets. The day had been filled with lighthearted fun—nothing too serious, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company. You couldn’t help but smile as you pointed out little details of the town, laughing at Spencer’s commentary and feeling a sense of ease that came so naturally with him.

But then, as you browsed one of the boutique shops, a mischievous thought crossed your mind. You turned to Spencer, feigning an innocent realization. “Oh, I totally forgot to pack a swimsuit!”

He blinked, caught off guard by your sudden announcement. “You… you forgot to pack a swimsuit?”

You shrugged casually, glancing toward the back of the shop where the swimwear section was. “Yeah, I mean, I’m gonna need one if we want to hit the water, right?”

Spencer nodded slowly, looking a little confused but following along. You weren’t entirely sure, but you were starting to feel like maybe he saw you as more than just a friend. There had been glances, small moments—like when you caught him staring or how he’d shyly brush against you. And truth be told, you felt a spark with him too, something that made you want to push the boundaries just a little, to see how far they would stretch.

“Do you… uh, want my help choosing one?” Spencer asked, his voice a little shaky as he tried to keep his cool.

You smiled sweetly, barely able to contain your amusement. “Well, yeah, Spence,” you giggled. “I need a second opinion! I can’t buy something that makes me look bad, right?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but before his brain could stop him, the words slipped out. “I don’t think you could look bad in anything.”

The second the sentence left his lips, Spencer’s face turned a shade of red you’d only seen once before when he’d been particularly flustered. His eyes widened in panic, as though he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud.

You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the sunshine outside. “Aw, Spence,” you teased gently, reaching out to touch his arm. “That’s sweet.”

Spencer looked away, clearly embarrassed, but you could see the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was adorable how easily he could be thrown off balance around you, and you secretly loved that you had that effect on him. 

“Okay, so I personally think I look good in red…” you mused aloud, casually flipping through the racks of swimsuits that, if Spencer had a weak heart, would definitely send him into cardiac arrest. You picked up a bold red bikini and glanced over at him with a raised brow. “But your favorite color is purple, right?”

“Huh?” Spencer was caught off guard, blinking rapidly as he processed your question. “Yeah, it is.” He was surprised, and admittedly touched, that you remembered something so seemingly small.

“Well then, let’s try this on!” you declared with a bright smile, grabbing a deep purple swimsuit off the rack in one hand and reaching for Spencer’s hand with the other. Before he could protest, you were dragging him toward the fitting rooms.

“Y/N, I can’t come back there with you,” he said, his voice rising in a panic as the realization of what was happening hit him.

You sent him a playful glare over your shoulder, the kind that made his heart race even faster. “You can and you will, unless you think I should walk out here and let the whole store see me?”

“Nope!” Spencer yelped immediately, his face turning an impressive shade of red. He hated that idea. The thought of other people seeing you in something as revealing as a swimsuit made his stomach churn, and the words left his mouth before he could think twice. “I’ll come back…”

The fitting room was more casual than expected—just one room with a curtain separating the changing area from a small sitting spot. Spencer sat down on a cushioned bench, his heart pounding in his chest as you slipped behind the curtain, out of sight.

For a moment, he could only stare at the fabric of the curtain, feeling like he was in some surreal daydream. The small sounds of you moving around behind the curtain sent his imagination spiraling in ways he really didn’t want it to go, but he couldn’t help it.

“How’s it going back there?” Spencer asked awkwardly, fidgeting with his hands as he tried to distract himself from the situation.

You giggled softly from behind the curtain, and he could hear the light rustling of fabric as you adjusted the swimsuit. “Almost ready. Just… a sec.”

Spencer swallowed hard, unsure if he was ready for whatever was coming next. His heart beat faster with every passing second, and he wasn’t sure whether to brace himself for a disaster or… something else entirely.

And then you stepped out from behind the curtain, more confident than Spencer could ever hope to be. The swimsuit you had chosen—a soft purple that hugged your curves and contrasted beautifully with your skin—made Spencer’s heart stop. For a moment, all he could do was stare, frozen in place, his mind short-circuiting at the sight of you standing there in all your stunning glory.

You did a small, playful spin, the movement so effortless and carefree, and Spencer choked on his spit at the sight of your ass as you turned. His face went from pale to a deep, crimson red in less than a second.

“Well…?” you asked, your voice playful, a little teasing as you caught his stunned expression. “What do you think?”

Spencer blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was a strangled noise that sounded somewhere between awe and panic.

You smiled, clearly amused by his flustered reaction. “Come on, Spence,” you pressed gently, stepping closer to him, “I need to know if it’s a keeper or not.”

He finally managed to stammer something that resembled coherence. “I-I think… it’s perfect.” He gulped. “You look… incredible.”

You grinned, pleased by his approval. “You sure? I mean, I don’t want to walk around looking bad.”

Spencer shook his head quickly. “No, no, not at all. You… you couldn’t look bad if you tried.”

Your smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing air between you two shifted into something warmer, something real. Spencer was still blushing furiously, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something more than just admiration.

“Thanks, Spence,” you said quietly, the playful edge fading as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. It wasn’t just about the swimsuit anymore—it was about the way he looked at you, like you were the most beautiful thing in the room. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to make you feel it too.

The air between you shifted, the teasing moment turning into something heavier, more charged. You suddenly felt shy, your confidence wavering as you caught the intensity of Spencer’s gaze, still lingering on you.

“Um… Spence?” you asked, your voice softer now.

“Yeah?” he responded, his voice quiet, his eyes still fixed on you like he was in a haze.

You bit your lip, your heart racing as you glanced at the mirror. “Can you, uh… help me adjust the straps? I can’t reach,” you said, the words tumbling out. It was a lie, and you both knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You wanted to feel his hands on you, to see if the tension in the air was something more than just a moment.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, but without a word, he stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, almost as if he was on autopilot. He walked toward you, his steps careful, the space between you closing with every second.

You turned to face the mirror inside the changing room, stepping just a little closer to the glass, forcing Spencer to enter the small space with you. The two of you were now standing so close, his breath warm against the back of your neck. You could feel the heat radiating off him as his fingers lightly brushed against your skin, adjusting the strap of the swimsuit with a tenderness that made your pulse quicken.

The moment stretched, neither of you speaking, both of you hyper-aware of the other’s presence. His hands lingered on your shoulders, and when you glanced at his reflection in the mirror, you saw the way his eyes had darkened, his gaze flicking between your face and the curve of your neck.

You swallowed, feeling the tension thick between you. “Spence…” you whispered, turning your head slightly to look up at him over your shoulder.

His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped. The small space, the mirror, the soft rustling of clothes in the distance—it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this intimate moment.

Without thinking, you turned fully, facing him now. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. His hands were still on your shoulders, his fingers trembling slightly. And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips softly against his.

Spencer froze for a split second, his mind trying to catch up with what was happening, but then he melted into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer. It was soft at first, shy, tentative, like both of you were testing the waters. But then, as you deepened the kiss, the shyness started to fade, replaced by something warmer, something real.

You pulled back slowly, not wanting to push things too far in such a public place, but you couldn’t resist the tender moment. Your thumb dragged lightly across Spencer’s bottom lip, his mouth curving into a soft smile under your touch.

“I hope that was okay,” you whispered, suddenly afraid to break the delicate bubble the two of you had created. The world outside seemed distant, as though it didn’t exist beyond this tiny, intimate space.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his voice still filled with a mix of awe and shyness. “Considering that was my first kiss, it was amazing.”

You blinked, looking at him in shock. “That was your first kiss? Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even ask if you—” But before you could finish your frantic apology, Spencer leaned down and kissed you again, his hands resting on your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss was slower this time, more confident. He wasn’t holding back, and neither were you. When he pulled back, his lips barely an inch from yours, he whispered against your skin, “I could not have asked for a better person.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making the moment feel even more special. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was a turning point—something that was destined to happen, like you were meant to share this with him.

—

That night, everything felt light and easy between you and Spencer. The kitchen was filled with laughter and warmth as you both cooked dinner together. Every so often, you’d lean over to steal a playful kiss, the steam from the boiling noodles creating a cozy, almost magical atmosphere around you. Spencer’s awkwardness had melted away by then, replaced with a soft confidence that showed in the way he kissed you back, teasing you as he pretended to stir the sauce.

After dinner, you found yourselves sitting on the floor, playing a few rounds of Mancala, each of you laughing as you tried to out-strategize the other. But eventually, the pull of the hot tub outside became too tempting to resist.

You changed into your new swimsuit and waited outside, the night air cool against your skin but the anticipation of the hot water—and of Spencer—keeping you warm. When he finally stepped outside, you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

There he was, standing in the doorway in blue banana-print swim trunks, his lanky frame looking more adorable than you could have imagined. You felt a rush of excitement at seeing him like this, so much of him exposed, his vulnerability on full display in the cutest way possible.

“Don’t laugh,” Spencer whined, clearly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Spence, they’re cute!” you reassured him, still grinning as you tried to hold back more laughter. You walked over and tugged lightly at the waistband of his trunks, giving him a playful smile. “I love them.”

He looked at you, his shyness melting away under your warmth, and after a moment, he finally smiled. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I mean it,” you said, stepping closer, your hands resting on his chest. “They’re very you.”

Spencer rolled his eyes but his smile remained, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear before taking your hand and leading you toward the hot tub. The playful teasing was replaced by a quiet excitement, the warmth of the tub waiting for you both.

You and Spencer settled into the hot tub, the warmth of the water enveloping both of you as you leaned back, the night sky above dotted with stars. The steam curled around your bodies, making everything feel soft and dreamlike. You let out a contented sigh, closing your eyes for a moment.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, glancing over at Spencer, who was sitting stiffly on the opposite side, his hands gripping the edge of the tub.

“It’s… nice,” he replied, though his face was scrunched up in thought, like something was bothering him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, amused by his hesitance. “You okay, Spence?”

He hesitated for a moment, then blurted, “Do you know how many germs are in a hot tub?”

You burst out laughing, completely caught off guard. “What? No! Spencer, don’t ruin this for me!” you teased, splashing a little water in his direction.

“I’m serious!” he insisted, his voice rising slightly as he adjusted his glasses, which were already fogging up from the steam. “Hot tubs are like… breeding grounds for bacteria. The warm water creates the perfect environment for microorganisms to thrive, and if the pH or chlorine levels aren’t properly maintained, it can lead to a whole range of infections—skin, respiratory, you name it.”

You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Only you would bring up bacteria in a hot tub. Come on, relax for once!”

Spencer’s face was a mix of genuine concern and embarrassment as he continued, clearly unable to stop himself now that he’d gotten started. “No, really, the CDC recommends monitoring hot tub water regularly because—"

You cut him off by playfully splashing him again, this time a bit more, laughing as you watched him sputter, pushing his glasses up as they slid down his nose.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” you said between fits of giggles. “But you’re in here now, so unless you want to hop out and start running tests, you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Spencer looked at you for a moment, as if considering the possibility of actually running tests, but then he laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was a fondness in his voice that made you smile.

“Look, the hot tub may be full of germs, but at least I’m not,” you teased, leaning a little closer to him. “So how about you just focus on me instead of all the invisible bacteria?”

He blinked, his eyes darting between yours and the water for a moment before he finally let out a breath and relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips. “You make a good argument,” he admitted.

“See?” you said, inching even closer to him, your shoulders almost touching. “Now, doesn’t this feel better than worrying about germs?”

Spencer chuckled, his arm sliding across the back of the tub as he allowed himself to relax a bit more. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “Much better.”

The playful conversation in the hot tub eventually faded into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft bubbling of the water. You noticed Spencer had gone quiet, and when you glanced over at him, you realized why. His eyes kept darting down to your chest, unable to hide his fascination.

You tried to hold back a giggle but couldn’t. “Spence… my eyes are up here,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

He immediately flushed red, looking away in embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry! It’s just… I didn’t know that…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence without digging himself deeper into the hole of awkwardness he had created.

“Didn’t know what?” you asked, amused by how flustered he was becoming. “That they could float?”

Spencer hesitated before nodding, clearly mortified. “Well… yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I guess I didn’t think about it before, but, uh, it’s interesting. Scientifically, I mean.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, causing Spencer’s blush to deepen even further. “Oh, Spence, you’re adorable,” you said, still giggling. “They’re just balls of fat, you know?”

He blinked at you, his curiosity piqued now that you’d made it sound so simple. “I guess that makes sense,” he murmured, still staring despite his best efforts to focus on something else.

A playful, daring thought popped into your head then. You leaned in closer, biting your lip slightly before whispering, “You know… if you want, you can touch them.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “W-What?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you in disbelief, as if he wasn’t sure whether he’d heard you correctly.

You smiled, your expression soft but teasing. “I’m serious,” you said, your voice gentle but laced with curiosity. “It’s okay if you want to. I mean… it’s not like I mind.”

For a moment, Spencer seemed frozen, his mind likely racing through a million thoughts all at once. You could see the internal battle on his face—his logical brain warring with his curiosity and the undeniable attraction between the two of you. Finally, he swallowed hard and nodded, still unsure but willing to trust you.

Slowly, almost cautiously, his hand reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered near your chest. When his hand finally made contact, his touch was soft and hesitant, like he was afraid to hurt you. His wide eyes stayed fixed on you the entire time, clearly amazed by the experience but also checking to make sure you were okay with it.

“Wow,” he breathed out, his voice barely audible, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your breast as if he were studying it in awe. You could see the genuine fascination on his face, his scientific curiosity mixing with something much more intimate.

You smiled softly at him, letting him take his time, feeling the weight of the moment between you two. This wasn’t just a playful interaction anymore—it had shifted into something more vulnerable, more personal. And in that moment, you both felt it.

"Spencer?" you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours, his hands still gently fondling your breasts as if he were afraid to break the delicate moment between you. "Yeah?" he responded, his voice just as soft, the world around you both feeling smaller, quieter.

"Kiss me," you breathed out, the words slipping from your lips like a secret you’d been holding in, waiting for just the right moment to share.

For a second, Spencer just stared at you, his mind seemingly struggling to catch up with what you had said. Then, slowly, as if in a trance, he leaned in, his breath warm against your lips. His hands, still resting on your chest, slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as he closed the distance between you.

The kiss was soft, tender at first, like he was still testing the waters, but the heat between you was undeniable. His lips pressed against yours with more confidence as the moment deepened, his touch growing bolder. You could feel the tremble in his hands, the nervousness and excitement coursing through him, mirroring your own feelings.

You leaned into him, your arms sliding around his neck as the kiss deepened. The steam from the hot tub swirled around you both, but the warmth between you was far more intense than the water. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other.

"Spence…" you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of affection and awe. You could feel the shift between you two, the unspoken understanding that this moment had changed everything.

He smiled shyly, his hands still resting gently on your skin. "That… was amazing," he whispered back, his voice filled with wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

You grinned, pressing a soft kiss to his lips again, a silent promise of more to come.

That night, under the soft glow of the moon and the warmth of the water still clinging to your skin, you and Spencer shared something deeper than either of you had anticipated. What started as tender kisses turned into a night of exploration, vulnerability, and intimacy. You took each other’s virginity, not in a rushed or hurried way, but slowly, carefully, cherishing each touch, each whispered word of affection.

It wasn’t just physical; it felt like you were sharing more than just your bodies. You both made quiet promises, unspoken at first, then whispered into the darkness—promises of staying together, of not letting this be a fleeting summer memory. You could feel the weight of it, the significance of this moment between you two, and you knew Spencer felt it too.

By the time the night faded into dawn, you were no longer just friends. You had come to the lake house as two people testing the waters of something deeper, but you were leaving as partners, bound by the connection you had built together over these few days. It felt like the start of something real, something lasting. And in your heart, you knew it was.

—

A year later, everything had fallen into place in ways you couldn’t have imagined. You and Spencer were stronger than ever, navigating your lives together as you both pursued your dreams. Spencer was deep into his PhD program, doing incredible work that often left you in awe of just how brilliant he was. You, on the other hand, had officially taken ownership of the bookstore after Mr. Jannell, the original owner, retired, and though it was a huge responsibility, it felt like you were carving out a life you were proud of. At just 19, both of you were on paths that felt meaningful and fulfilling.

Spencer had taken you to meet his mom, Diana, and you two had bonded almost instantly. Diana adored you, and before long, the two of you were “thick as thieves,” as Spencer liked to put it—sometimes much to his own chagrin. He’d always joke about how he couldn’t keep up with the way you and his mother teamed up against him during conversations, but deep down, you knew how much it meant to him that you got along so well.

When it came time for you to introduce Spencer to your family, it was a bit more complex. Your mom and her girlfriend liked Spencer well enough, and while he was perfectly polite, the truth was, you didn’t care much about their approval. The meeting you were really excited for was the one with your dad. He lived in Oregon, and though you had once planned to move there to be closer to him, meeting Spencer had changed your plans.

The trip to Oregon was everything you had hoped it would be. Your dad and Spencer hit it off immediately, bonding over literature, fine arts, sports statistics, and even chess. You could see the relief on Spencer’s face when he realized that your dad was a kind-hearted, free spirit—someone who truly understood and appreciated you. It meant the world to Spencer to have a father figure he could trust, and your dad made sure to let him know that he was always welcome to reach out, even giving him his personal number.

It was during that trip that both you and Spencer felt the confirmation that you were absolutely perfect for each other. The shared dreams, the easy companionship, the way your lives fit together—it all seemed to point to something greater.

So, when Spencer finished his PhD program at the age of 20, it felt like the most natural next step when he proposed. The way he looked at you, the ring in his hand, and the soft words he spoke made your heart swell. You had come so far together, and now, the future stretched out before you, full of possibilities you were ready to explore as partners for life.

"Oh my god, Spencer, yes!" you screamed, your heart racing with excitement. "Of course I'll marry you!" 

And just like that, everything changed. You and Spencer were married, two best friends who had found each other in your small hometown and realized there was no one else in the world you’d rather spend your life with. It felt surreal at times—how lucky you were to have met and married someone who knew you better than anyone, someone who adored every part of you.

Spencer, for his part, was over the moon. He couldn’t believe that he’d found the perfect woman who not only supported him but loved him in ways he never thought possible. You were his best friend, his confidant, and now, his wife. It was a dream come true, and there wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t marvel at the life you were building together.

Diana was beyond thrilled for the two of you, offering nothing but love and encouragement. Your father had been equally supportive, loving Spencer like a son from the moment they met. As for your mom and her girlfriend, they had expressed concern about how young you both were, warning you about the challenges of getting married so early in life. But, as always, their warnings fell on deaf ears—you had never really taken their advice to heart, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

You and Spencer knew, deep down, that what you had was real and lasting. You had both seen the future stretched out before you, and it was full of promise—promises you were ready to make good on, together.

—

It wasn’t until two years into your marriage that the cracks started to show, subtle at first but growing more obvious as time passed. Spencer had been on the lookout for new work, eager to challenge himself in ways his current job couldn’t. So when the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI reached out to him, it felt like a sign—an opportunity to use his big, brilliant mind in ways that could really make a difference. You couldn’t have been more proud of him when he told you, beaming as he shared the news. Your heart swelled with pride.

But the excitement quickly turned into a complicated issue. You had worked so hard over the past few years, growing your business until you owned not just one but two popular storefronts. Both were thriving, and while you had employees, your presence was necessary almost daily to keep things running smoothly. There was always something that needed your attention, always a fire to put out. The idea of uprooting everything and moving to Virginia for Spencer’s new role felt impossible—laughable even.

The moment Spencer saw how you reacted, the light in his eyes dimmed. He didn’t argue, didn’t push the idea. Instead, he swallowed his feelings and forced a smile, telling you that it was okay, that he didn’t need to move, that his job at Caltech was enough. He could stay. How could he tell the love of his life that he did want more? That he wanted to move, grow, and do something that felt more important than the work he was doing here?

So, he stayed silent. He resolved to push the opportunity aside and stay in California, continuing his work in the engineering department. But you noticed. Over the next few months, Spencer changed. He wasn’t the same bright-eyed, enthusiastic man who used to come home excited to tell you about his day. Instead, he was coming home fatigued, emotionally drained, going to bed earlier than usual and struggling to get up in the mornings. There was a heaviness about him, a weariness that worried you more with each passing day.

You could see the signs, but you didn’t know what was causing them. Your heart ached with the thought that Spencer might be struggling with something deeper, something like depression. You didn’t know how to help him, and that uncertainty weighed on you both.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted softly as Spencer walked through the door. He dropped his bag and jacket in the hall closet before slumping onto the couch next to you, immediately curling into your side, his head finding its usual spot against your chest.

“Hi,” he mumbled, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into you, seeking comfort.

You instinctively began stroking his hair, knowing it always soothed him. “How was your day?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even though you could already sense that something was wrong.

“Boring,” he muttered. “Long.”

You hummed softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. “I was thinking,” you began hesitantly, “maybe this weekend we could go visit your mom?”

Spencer’s head lifted slightly, his eyes suddenly alert with concern. “Why? Is she okay?”

You quickly shook your head, reaching for his hands. “Yes, love, she’s fine,” you assured him. “It’s just… I can tell you’ve been feeling down recently, and I thought seeing your mom might help. Maybe it would lift your spirits.”

Spencer huffed a breath through his nose, his gaze shifting to the side as he pulled away slightly. “It won’t.”

Your concern deepened, and you searched his face, wondering what was really going on. “What do you mean?” you asked softly, your voice laced with worry.

Spencer sighed heavily, the weight of whatever he had been holding back finally too much to bear. “I got fired today,” he admitted, his voice flat, like he was trying to keep the emotion out of it.

Your heart dropped. “What? Baby, why?” you asked, your tone frantic, already running through every possible reason in your mind.

“I told my boss about the offer from the FBI,” he explained, his hands fidgeting as he spoke. “They said if they fired me, then I could collect unemployment until I start my new job and I would get a severance package.”

Your heart stopped. The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. “...Start your new job?” you repeated slowly, barely able to get the words out.

Spencer nodded, his gaze still averted. “I accepted the job in Virginia,” he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he were afraid to say it out loud.

“Without telling me? Or asking me?” Your voice trembled slightly as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

Spencer, exhausted and clearly fed up, scoffed, “I didn’t think I needed your permission.”

His tone carried a sharpness that stung, a sass that only came out when he was truly drained. It wasn’t like him to be dismissive, but this felt different. You took a breath, trying to steady yourself.

“No, you don’t,” you said flatly, your voice colder than you intended. “But I am your wife, and I’m pretty sure that decision is going to impact us both. I would have liked to have a say.”

Spencer let out a frustrated breath, his posture stiffening. “So you could say no again?” he snapped, his exhaustion now seeping into anger.

You stared at him, bewildered. “When did I ever say no?” you asked, your voice rising with disbelief.

“When I brought it up the first time, you laughed!” Spencer shot back, his voice louder now, frustration overtaking the sadness that had been weighing him down. “You didn’t take me seriously.”

Your heart raced, and you could feel the tension building. Fighting like this wasn’t something you were used to, especially with him. You hated this feeling of everything slipping through your fingers. “Baby, I didn’t know you were seriously considering it. You never brought it up again.”

“I didn’t want you to tell me we couldn’t make it work,” he said, his voice cracking with sadness now. The frustration in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a deep hurt that made your chest ache. 

You stared at him, the weight of his words settling in. This wasn’t just a fight about a job. It was about more—about unspoken fears, miscommunication, and the silent distance that had crept in between the two of you. You had both been living in your own worlds, not realizing how far apart you were drifting.

The silence between you was heavy, and for the first time, the possibility that maybe—just maybe—you were heading in different directions hung in the air.

“I didn’t say we couldn’t make it work,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your own sadness mixing with the confusion. “But you made the decision without me… and that’s what hurts.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes softening, but there was something there—an understanding, maybe—that this was bigger than either of you had anticipated. He hadn’t thought you’d react like this. You hadn’t expected him to push forward without you.

And in that moment, the future you both had built together seemed fragile, hanging in the balance of a choice neither of you had prepared for.

“What are you saying?” Spencer asked carefully, his voice softening, though there was still a thread of hope lingering in his words. “We can make it work? You’ll move with me?”

You hesitated, the weight of his question sinking in. You had both avoided the depth of this conversation for so long, but now it was staring you in the face. “Spencer… I have my stores,” you began, trying to make him understand the complexity of the situation, the commitment you had to your work.

“Can’t you sell them? Or… run them from Virginia?” he suggested, his tone almost casual, as if the solution were that simple.

You blinked, staring at him in disbelief. “It’s not that easy, Spence,” you replied, your voice tight with frustration. “If something goes wrong, I need to be there. I need to be in person to fix it. It’s my business. I can’t just run it from across the country.”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I just… my work is important too. Don’t you see that? I’m talking about saving lives, helping people in ways that can make a real difference.”

You felt the sting of his words, the implication behind them cutting deeper than you expected. “What are you saying, Spencer?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, a mixture of disbelief and hurt. “That what I do doesn’t matter?”

Spencer shook his head quickly. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“But that’s exactly what it sounds like,” you interrupted, your voice louder now, the hurt rising to the surface. “You think because I’m not saving lives, because I’m not doing what you’re doing, that it’s less important? These stores… they mean everything to me. Just because it’s not life or death doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

“I guess I thought I meant everything to you,” Spencer whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks, his voice trembling with heartbreak.

Your own tears began to fall, your chest tightening as you watched the love of your life in such pain. “I thought so too,” you replied, your voice cracking. “But… would you leave everything behind and move across the country for me?” It was a question that hung heavy between you, one that neither of you had ever truly confronted before.

Spencer stared at you, his eyes red and glassy. “What is this?” he asked, his voice shaky. “Are we… are we breaking up?”

Your heart shattered at the thought, and you sobbed softly. “I don’t… I don’t know, Spence. But if you’re moving, I don’t see how we can make this work.” The weight of that reality crushed you both, the finality of it sinking in.

“You won’t even think about coming with me?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with desperation. He wanted to believe there was a chance, a way to bridge the gap.

You shook your head slowly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “Not right now, not when I’m just getting started. I can’t walk away from it.”

Spencer stood then, his movements sharp, final. “Well, I’m just getting started too,” he said, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back his emotions. “Maybe… maybe we were too young.”

You looked up at him, crying harder now. “You don’t mean that,” you choked out, shaking your head. The idea that he could regret the life you’d built together was too much to bear.

But Spencer looked down at you, his face full of sadness and regret. “I think I do,” he said softly, the words hanging between you like a dark cloud. “What were we thinking? We didn’t know what we were going to do with our lives. We should have waited, or… or talked about the future more.”

His words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of how far apart you had grown. The love was still there, strong and undeniable, but the reality of your different paths, your conflicting dreams, was threatening to tear you apart. And neither of you had any idea how to stop it.

—

At the airport, you walked Spencer as far as security would allow, neither of you ready to let go just yet. The reality of the moment weighed heavily on both of you, and as you pulled him into a tight hug, the tears flowed freely, unbidden.

“Spencer,” you whispered as you pulled back slightly, holding his face in your hands so you could look into his eyes. “I am so proud of you. You’re an amazing, wonderful, brilliant person, and you’re going to do great things. Please, don’t be a stranger.”

Spencer smiled through his tears, his expression soft but filled with pain. “Thank you, Y/N. That means so much coming from you. I know you’re going to do great things too. Keep me updated—I still want to be involved in your life.”

You nodded, your heart breaking as you tried to smile through the sadness. “I love you so much, Spence.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “More than I can handle.”

The two of you stood there, holding each other, neither wanting to let go. It felt like an eternity and no time at all before the final call for his flight came over the loudspeaker. Reluctantly, Spencer pulled away, wiping his eyes as he looked at you one last time.

And then, just like that, he was gone.

You stood there for a moment, watching him disappear through security, the reality of it all hitting you like a wave. Alone, 22 years old, divorced, and still in your hometown, the life you’d imagined for the two of you now felt like a distant dream.

To be continued…

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[cherryredcheol]

"angel"

tldr: all the ways mingyu uses your nickname

a/n: this is my first fic ever, please be kind.

coos: when he’s trying to get what he wants.

“angel” he looks at you from across the store. you turn your head and wish you hadn’t. As soon as you catch those eyes, you know its over for you. You don’t even know what he wants and you’re already prepared to do anything to give it to him. 

“wear these matching outfits with me?” he asks with the biggest grin on his face. you laugh, immediately nodding along to his idea, knowing how happy it would make him. 

“i can take cute pictures of us and set it as my wallpaper on my phone,” he rambles on, browsing the rack for your size in the unisex shirt he just had to have with you, “...been needing a new one.” 

groans: when you get up to leave. 

“annnnngeeeel” you hear from deep within the sheets. you thought he was asleep, that's why you pecked him so lightly on the cheek before pulling the covers off yourself. you did not expect his gruff voice to hit you so early in the morning. you actually were not expecting to hear it at all today since you had to be at work early. 

“stay a few more minutes. take a shorter shower, do less skincare, just stay in bed,” he begged. how could you say no to him? so you concede. tucking yourself back into the bed. he takes this moment to pull you in tight. 

“mmmm,” he hums. you feel the vibration in your back, where his warm chest was practically enmeshed in you. “sorry about your skin care in advance”

yells: when he needs your attention right this second. 

“angel!” he shouts when he looks up and you weren’t watching him like you promised you would be. The practice room was echoey so it was louder than he intended but it got your attention. You turned away from Seungcheol, brow raised, holding a finger up politely to pause the conversation you were engaged in. 

“you missed my move!” he pouted, stomping his feet very dramatically as he huffed across the room to you. you looked at him ready to apologize and ask him to show you again in a second when his hand wrapped around your wrist. 

“come on,” he said with a little determined frown, brows creasing. he leads you directly to the mirrored wall up front. “sit right here and watch me kill this. you’ll be so proud i finally got this down.” 

moans: when you’re behind him.

“angel” his eyes flutter shut as he feels your soft lips press behind his ear. your arms were wrapped around his waist just so and he could smell your perfume, making his head spin. 

“should we go home?” he felt you nod against his back and he smiled. he knew what this meant when you were needy like this. he knew his night was far from over and he was happy to leave this stuffy party anyway. his shiny new shoes pinching his toes in a way that was starting to become uncomfortable. 

“hey guys?” he said catching wonwoo and jun’s attention. “i think we’re going to head out” he turned slightly, showing the guys how you clung to his back, wrinkling the front of your emerald dress. eyes closed contently with a little smile on your face. “see you later.”

sings: when he gets home. 

“angeeeellllll” his voice carries across the apartment as he flings the door open, expecting you to be right there with a little smile on your face, waiting for him. what he saw instead was nothing. a dark apartment. upon further inspection, he saw a faint light coming from the living room. 

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered to himself, turning on the lamp next to the couch. he was secretly hoping to wake you up so he could spend time with you. it had been a long week away from you in Japan and he missed you. the night was still young, it was practically still dinner time. 

“well, well, well…” he said, hands on hips when you opened your eyes. he smiled when his plan worked. “wake up you lazy bones. it’s time to hang out with me” but when you turned on your puppy dog eyes and reached up for him, who was he to refuse a cuddle on the couch? he guessed you could hang out in the morning. 

[writingoddess1125]

Find out they have a Child with You

Luffy, Zoro, Corazon

Old men Series <-

Crocodile, Law, Sanji <-

Support me on Ko-Fi! Allows me to make these stories!

Enjoy!

Luffy

Luffy wasn't exactly known to be the 'Sexuality Active' type- Hell most assumed he was still a virgin by most accounts. That was till you joined the crew..

A childhood friend of Luffy you had always been by his side, and of course jumping at the opportunity to join his crew.

It had been- a open secret if you will, that you and Luffy were together in some way. However everyone assumed it was innocent just like the Captian. You two were young afterall so no one expected anything less- However at night when no one was around you and him shared many nights together. That's how you found out you were pregnant- it was a mistake, this wasn't suppose to happen to you.

You were both too young for this.. too dumb and irresponsible, and you had heard his dreams and goals of being the King of Pirates since you were children- you didn't want to risk stealing his dreams from him... so you did what you thought was best, you ran away.

In the middle of the night you took the lifeboat and disapeared in the east blue water- hoping to never be seen again.

That had been 2 years ago- and your life had never been the same.

"Mama!" You snapped from your deep thoughts to look at your son, Who was happily playing with a toy ship and squealing. He looked too much like Luffy, from the dark head of curls to the bright sunny smile- for a 15 month he was quite a hefty kid and knew quite a few words but his current favorite being-

"Ship!" He said excitedly as he held out the toy for you. You smiled and gently took the toy to look over before handing it back to him.

"I see Aoi, Very nice" You saw sweetly, kneeling down to scoop up the toddler and bring him to your hip.

"You know what day it is! Grocery day!" You said cheerfully making the toddler squeal in joy, you doubted he fully understood you but seeing how he ate you out of house and home you made regular trips to the market with him.

After a short walk outside of your tiny home you made it to the pier market. Filling a basket with one arm and holding Aoi who was squirming like no tomorrow and trying to eat the food you were buying- Having to pay for some food you could rip with your teeth to give to him which he happily eats up. As you are almost done with your shopping a loud voice shouts behind you.

"(Y/N)!" You hear before stretched out hands suddently grab you and pull you back by your waist. A yelp escaping you as you were turned around quickly and met with Non other then Liffy staring at you with a wide smile and holding you up.

You could hear the crew staring at you and the toddler in your arms- Your face starting to turn red as you could hear 'So that why she disapeared?'.. 'Didn't know he had it in him-' .. 'Wait does that mean Luffy and (Y/N) f-' However it was quickly quieted as Zoro scolded them all and insisted they go elsewhere which was guided away by Sanji to God knows where.

Luffy stared at you, then his eyes drifted to the child youbwere holding who was looking around shocked and clearly close to crying. Then back to your face, you knew Luffy could be a bit dense but you saw the recognition immediately as he smiled.

"(Y/N) Wanna come with us to eat?" He asked sweetly, his his gaze following Aoi carefully as the toddler stared back at him. Gulping you nodded softly-

Seemed there was no escaping this one...

Zoro

{ So fun fact! The whole Roronoa family line, their names are based off gambling. Like Zoro's name is based off the Word Pinzoro aka 'Snake Eyes' So his son Koro is based off the word Saikoro aka 'Dice' }

So who knew that you and Zoro's little flings could lead to... unforseen consequences- like the infant who was currently nursing from you.

Being a favorite Bartender had a lot of perks, you got better tips- often the customers were nicer and for your case you often got to spend the night with your favorite customer Roronoa Zoro- whenever he managed to find his way into town you and him often taking a tumble in the bed before departing ways with a goodbye shot and a promise of next time.

Well it seemed the last time Zoro had visited you, both of you got sloppy in your use of protection. Which resulted in the 4 day old currently in your arms- Looking down you couldn't help but be amused by it all.. This defiently wasn't in your plans yet you couldn't be mad either, Falling in love immediately with your son the moment he took his first breaths.

As you sat there in bed, still recovering from the rather harsh birth of your boy you heard a knock on the bedroom door, it cracking as you saw Sumi- a coworker and close friend of yours poke her head in carefully. However you noticed the panic in her face rather quickly and raised a brow.

"Sumi? Is everything okay?"

"Y-Yea but uh- (Y/N).. A uh customer wanted to stop by to see how you wrre doing" Sumi said calmly, you raising a brow at how ridiculous it would be to allow a customer to see you in this state- Prepared to chew her put the door opened and you saw why she had done this... there stood Zoro- hands to his sides as he stared at you, still lying in bed with the baby in your arms.

Sumi knew who the father of your son was- which is why you assumed she did this.. suppressing your anger you nodded for Zoro to enter. He walked to your bedside and stood next to the bed- Sumi quickly leaving.

Silence fell over both of you as Zoro stared at the child in your arms. His gaze calculating the last time he saw you before stepping forward, you didn't move as he carefully pulled reached a hand forward and pulled the blanket down that covered the babies face. He only had to look for a second to see the tuff of green hair and his prominent features poke through.

Silence fell again as he pulled his hand away.

"Is it a boy or Girl?.. Whats their name?" He questioned Zoro taking a breath as he clearly tried to keep his composure. His mind clearly traveling a mild a second before closing his eyes..

"A boy.. His name is Koro-" You said calmly. He nodded clearly favoring the name.

"Roronoa Koro....He is clearly mine- in that case You can't stay here then-" He said eventually, your eyes widening in shock at his words as you held Koro closer to you. Your eyes narrowing in warning, as he reached forward again to look at the Infant.

"What do you mean by that" You question sharply, assuming he was going to propose you go on the ship he lived on- which you wouldn't allow a baby on a damn pirate ship.

"Shimotsuki Village.. In the east blue, it is were I was born and raided.. I think it would be safer for you there. I can send money so you and Koro will be more then safe" He insisted- this actually surprising you as you saw the seriousness in his gaze.

"I will also marry you" He stated calmly, looking around frantically as the air froze in your lungs.

"What!?"

Corazon

It had been the first time in many years you hadn't felt shame.. truthfully you had been in a bad place before you had your daughter. A call girl for Doflamingo and his brother Corazon.

You and Corazon actually dating for a brief time and spending nights together, but the violence of that world always made the relationship bittersweet and unfullfilling. Till you found out you were pregnant, you had wanted to keep it under wraps but when a girl who truthfully hated you found out by you being sick in the bathroom immediately told Doflamingo-

Confronting you in private where you were sure you'd meet your end. Till he made sure to confirm the child was Corazon's.. which you admitted to and he forces you to leave- Kicking you out of the village and demanding you disapear before the sunset or else he would make sure no one ever found you.

So you packed everything in a panic and ran- Ran for your own life and your baby. While sad that Corazon would never know what happened to you or his child.. you figured it would be the best.

So you escaped to another village, not far from the place you once called home and started a new. Working in a restaurant you saved money for a small home and supplies for your child. It had been hard but worth it- Especially when you gave birth to your daughter.

Speaking of which-

Pulling from your memories to check on your 3 month old daughter, seeing her fast asleep in her crib as you set to finish dinner for yourself. Humming as you finish chopping vegetables you nearly jump from your skin when you heard a loud knock on the door- Knowing damn well it woke up your child but you rush over anyway to see. Opening the door you see a looming figure blocking the moonlight to you completely and a familiar smell of cigarettes filled your lungs.

"We are here looki- (Y/N)?" You freeze as you immediately recognize that voice, fear striking your heart as Corazon stared at you with genuine surprise stepped back and looked at you fully in confusion.

"What are you doing here Corazon?" You say calmly, Watching how his eyes swirled with questions at the sight pf you. Most likely noticing something was off by your appearance from when you last saw you.

"I should be asking you the same... after all you did walk out" He pointed out- but before you could speak you hear your daughter cry out and you wince. His gaze following you as all you could do was step to the side to let him in.. it seemed easier this way- He walked in fully forgetting his task at him as he marched straight to the noise.

He looked over the crib, taking in the fussy baby girl- how her face strunched up as she whimpered at the air.. Corazon seeing her features noting their similarities needing only to glance back at you once to see you nod.. The confirmation almost seemingly to knock him back before he carefully scoopedbup the little girl and held her close.

"Whats her name?"

"Dulce- Her name is Dulce" You say softly, Corazon smiling at hearing this- chuckling as he gently touched the cheek of his daughter.

"I like it- So this is why you left? If you had told me I would have been thrilled (Y/N)-" You shake your head at this.

"I wanted to tell you but couldnt... it wasn't my choice to leave. It was leave or die" You stress, and Corazon seems to connect the dots instantly. Doflamingo. He slowly hands Dulce to you and nods.

"Im sorry... But I want you to know.. I have a mission to complete- But I promise I will return and we will raise her together" He said calmly, Kissing your cheek and Dulce's who cooed softly and shifted in her sleep.

He smiled at this as he slowly and hesitantly headed for the door, clearly not wanting to leave but forcing himself to anyway for your safety and your guys daughter.

You watched him leave that night, the smell of tobacco still in the air as you held your daughter close- the warmth of his kiss still hanging onto you while you felt your heart sink.

You didn't know that this would be the last time you saw him... that your daughter would grow up never knowing her father.

[fayes-fics]

Vibe & Vexation

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU w/ Regency roleplay

Summary: Watching Pride & Prejudice evokes playtime in Benedict.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, established couple, Regency era sexual roleplay, teasing, remote vibrator, dirty talk, female orgasm, brief vaginal sex. Also features lake!Darcy!Benedict, anachronistic costumes (just like the real show this season tbh) and absolutely unacceptable use of Jane Austen.

Word count: 2.4k

Authors Note: Yes, the title is a terrible play on Pride & Prejudice. Listen, I don't know what this is either, and I'm posting before I lose my nerve after 3 weeks of writer's block. This is dedicated to @godofstory whose casual comment on one of my fics finally dislodged my brain block. This is modern Benedict roleplaying Regency. Also thanks to @colettebronte for reading through, being kind and saying I haven’t lost my mind. Well, not completely. Err, enjoy? <3

“Ben, don't be silly…”

“Are you suggesting that I wouldn't look dashing in a frilly shirt and snug trousers?” he teases, raising his head from your belly and twisting to look at you, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint as the credits roll on the Austen film you've been idly watching on a rainy Sunday.

“No, I'm not saying that,” you chuckle, your fingers touselling his hair. “You look good in everything and nothing…” you tease, enjoying the prideful swell of his chest at your compliment. “But I'm not in the mood to track down Regency outfits for a little sexy role play.”

“Leave the details to me, my love.” He waves a dismissive hand as he flips over and begins to crawl over you. “I will be your Mr Darcy….” he attests, lowering his voice to that rumble which always makes your belly flutter.

“But I don't have a lake in this flat,” you deadpan, perhaps not helpfully referencing a different adaptation, but too distracted to care, his crooked smile hovering right above you now.

“‘Tis a pity,” he agrees, quirking his lips, “but I shall think of something….” he winks before capturing your lips with his. 

And, just like that, you forget all about the subject…

—

Two days later

“They didn't have any fusilli, so I got penne; I hope that's okay…” you call out as you enter your flat, dropping the heavy bag of shopping from your shoulder and flinging off your shoes, grateful to be out of them and home.

When there is no answer, you frown. When you texted on your way home, he sent back a list of supplies for dinner.

“Ben…?” you round the corner into the kitchen and realise it's empty, nothing cooking on the hob. “You're not even cooking….?” you raise your arms in a shrugging gesture, nonplussed, apparently talking to yourself in what appears to be an empty flat.

“Ms Bennet….”

His voice rings out resonant, a teasing lilt that has you spinning around. And almost toppling over.

There, in the doorway to your bathroom, is Benedict…. dressed up as a Regency gentleman. 

Well, partially dressed. And what he is dressed in is damp and clinging to his skin in a way that gives away absolutely everything about why you cannot resist him. Broad shoulders and a tapered torso, completely visible through the most transparent white frilled shirt you could ever imagine. Snug blue trousers that, again, give everything away. He must have hopped into the shower to achieve this effect, his clothing virtually painted upon his skin.

You literally bite the edge of your tongue.

“Mr Darcy….” you stumble, incapable of any other words, mouth falling open as he saunters towards you with a confident gait, his trousers straining over his thighs as he does so.

“My eyes are up here, Ms Bennet…” he teases as yours ping guiltily to his face, knowing you are being entirely called out for your ogling. 

“What if your eyes are the very last thing I am interested in, Mr Darcy?” you finally find your voice, stepping into the role of a feisty, historic heroine you enjoy so much.

“The eyes are the window to the soul…” he tilts his head challengingly, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s Shakespeare, not Austen,” you shoot back pointedly.

“All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes,” he corrects, indeed a quote from Pride and Prejudice. He has obviously been revising—something about that is as adorable as it is arousing.

“You don't fight fair…” you whisper as he closes in on you with a handsome smirk, but it hardly feels like defeat as his long fingers spider up your jacket buttons, the warm fug of his clothes amplifying the mouthwatering scent he wears under them.

“All is fair in love and war,” he counters, sliding nearer, his lips warm on your temple now as he flicks open your topmost button.

“Are you going to talk in literary quotes all night?” 

Your ask is much breathier than you intend, very much not a protest about what is transpiring—a tingle down your sternum where his fingers trail over your skin down to the next button. You feel the curve of his cheek against your face from his responding smile. 

“I might stop,” he proposes airily. ”But perhaps only to tease you until you pass out…” 

“How?”

The question falls from you unbidden, curiosity seizing your lips.

“With the help of things poor Mr Darcy never had access to…” he offers enigmatically. “But for now, how about you go change into your outfit, Ms Bennet?”

“I have an outfit too?” your breath catching at the idea he has planned a whole scenario.

“Oh yes, ‘tis hanging in your room, fair lady,” he mutters, taking a half pace back. But before you go, he grabs your hand, raising it to his mouth and dropping a kiss that is anything but chaste—wet, plush lips with a slight edge of teeth dragging over your knuckles as his hot tongue lathes between your fingers lasciviously. 

—

“I'm not sure this is quite Regency accurate…” you assert as you swan back into the living room a few minutes later, even as there is a frisson over your skin at the very sexy outfit he has chosen.

“Perhaps not,” he concedes, his eyes lingering on the pronounced swell of your breasts as you sashay closer. “But yet, I cannot fault my choice.”

“More Marquis de Sade than Jane Austen…” you opine, revelling in his stare, the time spent fastening each hook and eye down the front of the ivory corset worth it for that hungry look and the nascent swelling you see in his clinging trousers. The silk, frilled French knickers he picked out are new, which you are grateful for, but they match perfectly. There was an odd weight to them as you pulled them on, though, but you did not spend much time contemplating it, so keen to get back to the scene.

“Ms Bennet, how dare you turn up to my home so scandalously dressed when I am entertaining company?” he admonishes, his tone suddenly brusque, stepping fully into his roleplay, gesturing to the empty kitchen area as if it were filled with guests.

“Mr Darcy, I can only apologise. I thought you were away on business,” you improvise, clutching your hands over your body in a futile attempt to conceal your state of undress, acting horrified to be caught.

“Do you make a habit of trespassing in my home and flouncing around so slatternly?” he snaps tersely, his eyes flashing approvingly.

You know the question is rhetorical, so you just hang your head, biting your lip, playing at being ashamed and chastised for being so wanton in the home of the man you desire. This is nothing like anything in Pride and Prejudice, but you could not give less of a damn, a flutter low in your gut that this could go somewhere utterly delicious. 

“I must insist you desist,” he continues imperiously. “This must never happen again! Now go to my private quarters and think upon what you have done!” he concludes, pointing to the sofa. 

“Yes, Mr Darcy,” you nod and curtsy with faux demureness, which he seems to greatly enjoy based on the flash in his eyes, seemingly even more so when you break character and poke out your tongue insolently as you pass.

You take a seat on the sofa and watch, initially confused, as Benedict remains in the kitchen area, play-acting as if he is chatting to guests, supping from a wine glass and gesturing. Puzzled, you watch as he reaches for his phone casually and flicks something on the screen, his back still turned to you.

There is a sudden, sharp buzz in your underwear that steals your breath, your legs tensing, your feet kicking out reflexively, sliding your clit heavier against the vibration.

Oh fuck.

That’s why the underwear felt oddly weighted. He must have snuck a thin remote vibe pad into the lining.

He makes a half-turn and smirks over his shoulder as you pant and stare at the play of his back muscles under his translucent shirt, your fingers clawing into the sofa at the sudden not-at-all-gentle onslaught.

“Ms Bennet, are you quite well?” he calls out, a triumphant look claiming his face. “You appear somewhat flushed.”

“Mr Darcy, I find myself in a most perplexing dilemma,” you grit out between clenched teeth, impressed you can even form words. The vibe is a persistent thrum that you attempt to tilt yourself away from slightly but seem unable, always there, dragging against you in a way that makes you writhe, your back arching.

He spins around to face you entirely now, putting down his wine glass, phone casual in the other hand, thumb hovering portentously over the screen with a gleeful mien.

“What troubles you, Ms Bennet?”

His lilt is teasing and velvet, humming in your bones as much as the toy. The vibration suddenly ceases, and you collapse back into the sofa, panting mildly, the corset restricting your ability to take the gulps of air you need, your chest heaving, unable to do anything but stare slack-jawed at him.

“Have you quite forgotten your words, Ms Bennet? I thought you a creature of learning…” he needles, the painted-on regency garb he wears just more temptation, his cock straining against the wool now. He makes no move to draw closer, but he does flick open the buttons around his wrists and roll up his sleeves, his toned forearms flexing as he does so.

“I am a woman of learning,” you defend after a pause, “but I find myself rather disadvantaged tonight. I suspect deception…” You narrow your eyes at him.

He throws his head back and laughs, his Adam's apple bobbing prominently as he does so. It makes you want to pitch forward and bite it.

“Whoever would deceive such a fine woman as you?” he fires back as he tilts back down. You cry out as his thumb yet again swipes over his screen, and your underwear roars back to life—this time a softer pulsing wave, but no less titillating, an inflaming tease that staccatos against your engorged flesh.

“You might, Mr Darcy…” you accuse, but it's lighthearted at best, a toothless threat as all of your efforts are focussed on the fizzing pleasure radiating out into your pelvis.

“On the contrary, Ms Bennet. In vain have I struggled…” he begins. 

That speech.

“It will not do….” he adds, shaking his head for good measure as he flicks open the buttons upon his soaked shirt, your eyes tracking the movement as each new slice of damp, heated skin is revealed in the soft, low lamplight.

“My feelings will not be repressed…” 

He peels the sodden shirt from his form, and you moan as that honed body is revealed to you, glistening slightly. The vibe is a roiling wave against your clit that makes your pussy clench around nothing, wishing to be filled.

“You must allow me….” he pauses and lopsidedly grins as he roughly tugs upon the buttons of his trousers, a teasing striptease that has you spiralling fast, leaking copiously into your knickers now.

“Allow you what…?” you throw in, huffing against the restriction of the corset, something about its tight hold escalating your addled state, moaning as he drops the last vestige of his clothing, his cock springing free. His whole being glowing with pride in how much he can affect you.

“To tell you how ardently I admire and love you….” he concludes, his voice dark and smooth, settling over your skin like warm molasses as he finally prowls towards you.

You want to pitch forward and nuzzle your face into his cock. But he dips down as he approaches, pushing your legs far apart with his hands and falling to his knees, burying his face into your cleavage. He suckles vehemently on the swell of your chest, lathing his tongue over your flushed skin as you fight to gasp in enough air, the vibe and his lush mouth hurtling you fast towards oblivion, his hands a firm grip on your hips.

“I love you too, Mr Darcy,” you gulp in delayed response. “But, please release me from this torture…” you append weakly, needing reprieve from the prolonged hold.

“Is it not the sweetest torture, though?” he argues back as his nose trails up your clavicle to your neck, his mouth earnest upon a spot that always makes you pliant. “I want to see you struggle, my love, bound in my corset, sat upon my vibe, teased and vexed until you can take no more….” his words are a sinful soliloquy gusting almost wistfully into your ear, your lobe snagged under his teeth.

“Take pity upon me, please; I am distressed,” you appeal, feeling a slight wooziness as you circle a chasm of pleasure that licks teasingly at your edges.

“You are beautiful,” he counters, a firm hand cupping the back of your head and puppets you to stare into his blown pupils, his rigid cock trailing a sticky line over your thigh as he rumbles more debauched. “Now come for me, Ms Bennet, and then I shall have you…”

You screw your eyes shut just as he flicks to a higher setting on the vibe and can no longer fight or struggle, letting your body break, febrile, a dew on your back as it arches, you screaming to the ceiling as you are thrown into the stars and the earth at the same time, torn in a hundred directions by the intense pulse radiating out from your core and fanning across your whole body, every muscle tensing and releasing in a sudden wave.

Hazily, you hear his jubilant praises ringing in your ears, but it feels far away even as his hands and mouth are hot and heavy on your skin, ripping the corset and knickers from your body with a vehemence that would shock you were you in less of a euphoric, altered state. He pulled you bodily to the edge of the sofa, teasing his cock against your throbbing clit, making you groan and paw at him, the need rising again as you return to your surroundings.

“You have bewitched me body and soul,” he pants as he slides into your body, a surging insistence that has your fingernail curling into the sinew on his forearms, your toes curling around the fuzzy meat of his thighs. “I never wish to be parted from you for a second. I love you..,” his tone rough, broken, stuttering as he bottoms out inside you, quoting the film you watched together the other night before taking you urgently towards another blissful peak.

Benedict taglist pt1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

[withonly-sweetheart]

but what about his younger self? sfw <3

<><><><>

re2(r) leon that just can't wait to get to the academy. he got up at unearthly hours just to get dressed, drive all the way down to raccoon only to get there ages before anyone else. all just to make a good first impression on his superiors.

so imagine his heart sinking when all he gets from his newly assigned t.o. is a scowl thrown at him, the praise he would've gotten at the academy pushed to the furthest corner of his brain when he makes it his goal to impress you.

you point out every little flaw, chastise him harshly when he makes minor mistakes, and your peers stand by with helpless smiles and nonchalant shrugs; "it's just your luck, rookie, you got stuck with her."

of course, and he complies with every little task you assign him, no matter how much he sees how easy the other rookies get it. you're young and eager, the easiest way to form you is from the start.

but your little game with shielding him from true horrors can only go so far. sure, being patrol and all, you've done your best to shoo him from real danger, keeping him safe, because that's the least you could do him. you failed in your last assignment, and you're not about to let it happen again.

in all your shouting, all your screaming at him, you really do care for your boot. your rookie. so your horror when you find him unconscious on a hospital bed surpasses the grief you felt when your first boot was killed in action.

when he finally comes home, you're notified immediately, courtesy of your fellow officer, and he opens the door, still bloody and battered, but at least he looks clean. his eyes are drooping yet still alert enough to recognize you, instinctively stepping to the side to let you in.

"what the fuck were you thinking?" your voice has never been this level, this calm with him. it surprises him just as much as it does you.

"i've been training my whole life for this-"

"trained cops don't disregard direct orders!" you fling the accusation out into the air between you, and almost immediately you can see the effects.

they come in the straightening of leon's spine, the batting of his eyelashes as he restrains himself from crying, because the last thing he needs is for you to think he's weaker than you already assume.

"i-i was just trying to..."

"trying to what, leon?" you hiss. the statement sounds sharper than you want it to, but backing down now would give him the chance to turn the tables.

"i thought if i did something right, for once, you might actually like me."

the silence between you is thick, heavy, like the burden just released from leon's shoulders. and your response is delayed.

"... what?"

"i said-"

"no, i heard you the first time. but what the fuck is that supposed to mean, boot?"

his eyes flit sideways, avoiding your steely gaze, a gaze you work hard to maintain. did he mistake your strictness for hatred? that's never happened before.

"i messed everything up, like i always do."

"you never... what?" your confusion comes through every single time in that damn word, because the placeholder for what you really want to say can't really be... well, replaced.

you take a step towards him, and he goes rigid, narrowing his eyes, preparing for the inevitable lecture he was hoping would be saved until your shift the next day.

but it never comes. you stare up into his eyes, gorgeous eyes, really, eyes that you had admired from his side profile. he's restless, you realize that now, fingers trembling like shaky leaves on a windy day.

"take a day off, leon."

"... ma'am?"

"you heard me, rookie. you need that injury to recover before you can hit the streets again."

"but-"

"no buts. that's a direct order, one that i hope you'll stick to this time, officer kennedy. you did well out there today. you held your will, did the right thing even though we decided against it."

"... you're really letting me off the hook?"

your fingers find the unfamiliar neckline of his white tank top, and you adjust it carefully, just as you would with his shirt collar. he flushes crimson, but your touch is nothing more than a doting gesture.

"just this once, boot. don't get too used to it."

series masterlist

[dollarbils]

my girl’s a stalker | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your burning desire for your stalker soon turns into something else, does that truly mean you don’t want her?

warnings. smut, strap, harsh words, physical struggle

part1, part2 masterlist

you hadn’t seen billie since she’d driven you home, and it was driving you insane. she was all you could think about, all the fucking time. and it pissed you off.

you couldn’t shake the thought of her. she was like a poison, slowly beginning to eat at your insides, pulling at your heart. you wouldn’t admit the fear creeping in however, your dependency on her attention beginning to scare you.

you were willing to do anything for a shred of care from her. you wanted her to need you like you needed her. the frustration was excruciating.

“what’s on that pretty mind of yours?” her voice spooked you beyond measure, the manifestation of your thoughts not quite believable.

“nothing.” your response was dry, not having recovered from the weight of your thoughts, still trapped in the escape of your mind.

“hm, gone shy now that i’m finally here? i know you’ve been thinking about me.” sometimes you genuinely wondered if she could see your thoughts, she certainly liked to pretend she could.

“what are you doing here, billie?” she looked slightly taken aback, not expecting the sudden hostility.

“why so blue?” she stepped into the light of the moon, her features seeming to glow as you looked at her in awe. her smile was sickening, so fucking gorgeous. her hands reached your face, cupping your cheeks.

“stop it billie.” you pulled her hands away, stepping back, out of fear you’d succumb to her comfort.

“what’s wrong, baby.” she seemed genuinely confused, and a tinge of guilt poked at you.

“i’m not your baby.” you crossed your arms in an assertive act, but she was biting her lip, scanning your body with that seductive look of hers.

“you could be, what’s stopping you?” she tried to come close again, but you backed away.

“i kissed you, and then you ignored me for a week! how am i supposed to react?” her bottom lip stuck out in an ask for forgiveness.

“i’ve been occupied lately.” her excuse was vague, and she knew she wasn’t getting away with it. secretly, she was hoping you’d ask.

“with what?” she smirked, her tongue coming up to kiss her teeth.

“i had to take care of something, someone.” the clarity of her response was still poor, confusion lacing your brows.

“Noah?” horror flooded your spine when she grinned. the name of your previous fling bringing back a rush of memories.

“that was his name?” she was toying with you, insinuating things you wouldn’t let yourself speak.

“what did you do to him?” you’d underestimated her before, but you undoubtedly knew she what was capable of now. you backed away from her and she furrowed her brows, her eyes wide, chasing after you.

“don’t be so dramatic, babe. this doesn’t change anything.” you gripped your phone in your back pocket, moving away from her cautiously as you thought on possibilities of distracting her.

“it does, depending on what you did.” you grasped the sides of your phone, searching for the button that would make an emergency call.

“jesus christ, all i did was threaten him not to bother you anymore.” Your back hit the wall and your face went pale when she trapped you within her arms.

“with a weapon i’m sure,” she shrugged, “you’re fucking crazy.” she seemed to like what was meant as an insult.

“and you can’t admit you love it.” her fingers grasped your wrist, the one that was deep in your back pocket, and she revealed your tight grip on your phone.

“i thought we’d moved past this?” she pouted, mocking the failed attempt at getting out of this situation. you refused to speak, closing your eyes as her lips came to yours, hovering above them. your body craved her and your senses went blurry, consumed by only her.

“don’t be afraid of me, i’m what you need.” the familiarity of the words did nothing to soothe you, your heart still racing as her tough hands glided down your hips. you squirmed in her embrace, not liking the way your body was so eager to connect with hers.

“don’t deny the fact you want me, you’re not hiding it very well, baby.” her hips moved against yours, the bulge beneath her jeans, prominent.

“f-fuck you.” it was almost a moan, a half-whimper that took of your last shred of confidence, and dignity for that matter. and then you were giving in, kissing her forcefully as she drilled her hips into yours.

“much better.” she breathed and you rolled your eyes as she slipped her fingers under your shirt, unclasping your bra. you allowed her to take both of them off, and she took her lips between her teeth when your breasts spilled out.

“take a fucking picture if it means you’ll hurry up.” she chuckled at the comment and lifts you into her arms, before releasing you onto your own bed, at least she had the decency.

“such a brat. you’re so fucking lucky i find it sexy.” she takes your nipple in her mouth as she plays with the buttons of your jeans. your lips are parted, soft noises escaping occasionally.

“you’re fucking lucky i put up with your shit.” you responded, in the same tone. her lips left your tit, as she poked her cheek with her tongue.

“my shit? you’re the one who can’t fucking listen to simple instructions.” she manages to flip you over, so that you’re lying on your stomach, with protest however.

“just.. f-fuck.” she’d had enough of what she deemed your nonsense, shutting you up with the tip of her strap against your clothed pussy.

“what’s that, love?” your mouth had gone dry with the constant gasps as she pressed her tip against you. your heat was practically dripping all over the sheets.

“you’re making such a mess, i haven’t even properly touched you.” she nearby ripped your underwear off, revealing your glistening pussy. she couldn’t help but spread your wetness around with her thumb, brushing your clit so deliciously.

“b-billie.” her name had never sounded so good to her. she squeezed your ass as she soaked in the sound of her name as a gasp from your lips.

“beg.” she fisted your hair and held your torso as she pulled you up until you were sitting on your heels. her strap digging into your ass, reminding you of your position. she kissed your neck while she waited for a response.

“f-fuck, please billie.” your head fell back as she tutted in disapproval, her lips still ghosting the skin below your ear, before she lifted them and whispered.

“you can do better than that, babe.” she bit your ear lobe as you let out another whine of protest.

“what do you want from me? im sorry, j-just please, billie.” your cries were incoherent, bland of nonsense. but fuck, did she love it.

“a bit pathetic hm?” she pushed your body back onto the bed, the momentum causing you to bounce slightly. a raspy whimper escaped as she teased your entrance, circling it and applying pressure. you thought you’d burst if she pushed it in, which she soon did, entirely.

“b-billie.” she thrusted into you as she revelled in the string of moans coming from your mouth, desperate to cling onto them.

“fuck, you’re tight baby.” her fake cock was stretching you out so deliciously, and her pace was never-faltering. she tugged on your hair as she rutted into you from behind, pulling your face from the sheets in order to hear your moans.

“mm, taking me so well, huh? so pretty.” the base of the strap hit her clit repeatedly as she thrusted deep inside of you. she pulled your legs around her waist, aiming to go even deeper, hitting your spot over and over again until your vision turned white, littered with fucking stars.

“fuckk billie, i-i’m.” your words were barely audible, but she caught wind of them regardless, amused at your current state.

“i know gorgeous, come on you can take it.” she eased you further to your release, the pent up tension breaking as a wave of pleasure consumed your body. her strap still buried inside of you was helping you ride out your orgasm. and soon after pulling out, she joined you on the bed.

“does that earn me a goodnight kiss?”

you rolled your eyes, she was unbelievable.

note: this basically equates to 1/4 of my inbox, here you go 🤲

[maplesyrupsainz]

prompt 6 with sebastian pleaseee

pairing: sebastian vettel x fem reader y/n (she/her)

genre: blurb, established relationship

warnings: swearing, protective bf, nothing crazy

prompt: six [driver] is overly protective of you after someone flirts with you

a/n: omg never written for sebastian before so kind of nervous idrk what im doing LOL hope it isn't awful!!!

my masterlist | 1k celebration

you're studying the cereal boxes intently when a man's voice you don't recognise makes you jump slightly. “something interesting happening there that only you know about?”

when you turn around he's gesturing towards the cereal boxes you were reading. you smile lightly, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to engage in conversation with the stranger. “nothing interesting. that's the problem, i think.” you shrug softly, your eyes wandering the aisle, your boyfriend nowhere to be seen.

“maybe i can help you,” the man steps closer to you, clearly feigning interest in cereal as an excuse to talk to you. you look up at the ceiling, saying a silent prayer that this man fucks off before your boyfriend returns. “you know what, i have the best cereal back at my place. what you up to later?”

and there it is. the worst pick up line you've ever been forced to hear. you open your mouth, the beginning of the soft rejection you're so used to using to let men down: ‘i'm flattered but i actually have a boyfriend, he should be around here somewhere’...

however, it's your boyfriend who cuts you off. “she's with me, mate.” you cringe at the malice in his voice and the sudden weight of his hand on the small of your back. the man, tail between his legs, apologises profusely before retreating down the aisle. “who was that?”

“don't know. he just started talking to me about cereal,” you shrug again, nodding towards the boxes. sebastian's eyes on you feel like they're going to set a fire right where you stand. “come on,” you mumble, turning away from him and finishing your grocery shop.

the car ride home is silent, and you don't try to make conversation as you know sebastian just needs time to cool off. he is fiercely protective of you at times when it feels unnecessary, but what would you know about the fragile male ego?

upon arriving home and packing away your groceries, you join sebastian on the couch, flinging your legs over his. “hey,” he looks up at you, his clenched jaw relaxing slightly. you know this routine all too well. “you know what?”

“hm?” he raises his eyebrows at you, resting a hand on your thigh.

“i have the best cereal at my place. what you up to later?” you try to fight off the grin that's creeping onto your face as sebastian shakes his head.

“that might be the most pathetic one yet.” the smirk on his lips floods you with relief.

you sit up straight, giggling now. “he wildly overestimated my passion for cereal.”

he laughs, opening his arms for you and you oblige almost immediately, nestling into his chest. being loved by sebastian is the only way to be loved, you think.

[byhees]

when you don’t say “i love you” back.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 800 genre fluff established relationship non-idol au warnings not proof-read skinship kissing petnames — more

a/n. requested! kekek i love sulky enha TT

heeseung would be the definition of offended— “i’ll see you tomorrow, baby. i love you”, he’d say, hands resting by the dip of your hip, a sweet kiss being pressed onto your forehead; “see you, babe”, he’d hear in response, a pout making its way to grace his features— no “i love you too”? would try again, slipping in the little “love you” by the end of his sentence— winds up clicking his tongue sulkily, planting your face with tons and tons of kisses, repeating the words after every peck— “that’s ticklish, baby! .. i love you too!” you’d say, laugh breathless as he pulls away with a proud grin…

jay would try to mask his confusion and moping, not wanting to make it obvious that he, very much, would love to hear those three words fall from your lips; “love you, baby”, he’d try again, standing stagnant in his place, hoping that you’d get the hint— and when you’d lightly ask him if anything’s bothering him, faux worry painting your features, he’d only shake his head in response, ready to turn around to make his way back; and when you’d lightly tug on his shirt, stopping him in his tracks to pull him into a kiss, you’d softly coo “i love you”, loving the way his eyes instantly light up…

jake would be slightly confused; “have to go now, princess. love you so much”, he’d coo, hesitantly breaking away from the little hug— and just before he turns on his heel, he waits expectantly to hear the three words fall from your lips— only to be met with “see you tomorrow, baby”; where’s his precious “i love you”? did you.. forget to say it? and when you’d notice the gradual change in his demeanour, the corners of his lips lightly curling downwards, you’d only pull him back into your embrace, the thought of playing said little prank on him flinging out of the window— you’d wind up showering him with all the “i love you”s he’d want…

sunghoon would make his pouts pretty obvious— “i love you. can’t wait for tomorrow”, he’d say, gaze glinting with anticipation at the mere thought of your date the following day; “me too, hoon. get home safe, okay?” you’d say in response, and he’d only pause— no ‘baby’ and no ‘i love you’? there’d be the smallest of frowns tugging on his lips, a sulky expression dusting his features; “i said that i love you, baby.. where’s my ‘i love you too?” he’d softly ask, bottom lip jutting out in a little pout— you’d end up peppering him with kisses and “i love you”s, an endearing smile painting your face as you watch his mood brighten…

sunoo would, frankly, be more bummed out than anything; “see you tomorrow, love! i love you”, he’d chime, leaning in to press a kiss onto your cheek— you’d only flash a pretty smile, nodding ever so slightly before saying a small “see you, baby”; would doubt his ears for a split second— you’d never forget to tell him ‘i love you’. winds up sulking a whole bunch, not exactly willing to turn on his heel and walk away from your doorstep— “i think you’re forgetting something, babe”, he’d add, his pout deepening; you’d wind up caving in to his adorable frown, dropping the prank idea in a heartbeat, the words falling from your lips so prettily…

jungwon would be pretty shocked— “i love you so much, baby.. let’s call later, m’kay?” he’d say, arms wrapped tightly around your build, not hinting the slightest of willingness to leave your embrace. “for sure! see you, won”, is what’d he’d hear— his shoulders would slump instantly, gaze blurred with light disappointment; “baby, i said that i love you”, he’d start— would feign more shock when you nonchalantly and casually nod it off, a small “i know” slipping past your lips; would continually say those three words, arms sulkily crossed over his chest, till you’d utter them back; you’d wind up breaking into an endearing fit of giggles at his pouty composure, “i love you” falling off your tongue in such a beautiful way…

riki would be offended, times ten; he’d gawk at you in pure horror when you brush his adorable “i love you, baby” off; “see you, babe. have a safe trip home, okay?” he’d continually gape at you in pure bafflement— you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back! would stay rooted in his position, arms crossed, head lightly whipped to the side sulkily, until you say the three words back to him; and when you do, he’d softly say, pouting, “what about all the other times? you got to say it back to the rest of them”; winds up breaking into an endearing giggle, finding it adorable how you’d crash into his embrace, reciting tons of ‘i love you’s back…

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady @gweoriz @czlluvriki @okwonyo @okwons @kimsunoops networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[heian-era-housewife]

The Pebble

Synopsis | The pebble-picking courtship rituals of penguins may just be the key to winning your heart and saving Sukuna's sore tushy.

Content | fem!reader x Sukuna, fluff, sweetness, smol angst, penguins!

"Nothing!" You say, completely unprompted, voice cracking slightly as you shove a suspicious something-or-other into your pocket. You turn to face Sukuna as he closes the distance down the sidewalk where you'd ran ahead.

"Again?" He he deadpans, voice flat and thick with judgement. "Like you need any more."

"This one was kind of pink...like your hair," you pout with childlike innocence, scuffing your foot.

"Where are you even keeping all of these rocks?" He asks, knowing fully they've been dotting odd corners of your home as of late. He's found them popping up on windowsills, countertops, even clunking around in the laundry on the not-so-infrequent occasion you forget to take them out of your pocket.

You offer a shrug and non-commital murmur, still sulking.

"Fine," He yields, annoyed yet secretly enamored with your odd fixation. "Let me see it."

Smiling brightly, you plunk the little pink stone into the palm of his large hand, bobbing slightly on your toes, awaiting his appraisal.

"Hmm. It is kind of pink." He concedes, squinting down his nose at it with the air of a much older man.

****

Returning home later that week, seeking the comfort of his favorite chair, he sinks tired and battle-worn into its plush cushion only to be met with a sharp jab to the rump. Jolting up from his seat, he swipes away a jagged stone from its cushion, cursing as he plops himself down once more, scorning your infernal hobby.

=JAB=

Jumping up a second time, he flings away the cushion revealing another lumpy pinkish rock that slipped its way beneath the plush seat making a mockery of his sore and sullied behind.

"Woman..." he growls.

****

Another night, over dinner, you wave your chopsticks fervently, demonstrating as much as telling a zoned-out and seemingly uninterested Sukuna all about a program you saw earlier that day.

"-and the male penguin searches the whole beach for the perfect pebble, right?"

"Mhm," he chews absently.

"He'll walk all over looking for the best one. It can take days sometimes!"

"Mm..."

"They usually look for the shiniest ones and then when they find it they- Ryo?"

"Hm?" He grunts without looking up.

"Are you listening...?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I, uh. Then they-" you fade out watching as his eyes glaze over. "Nevermind..."

He looks up just in time to catch your polite yet sad smile as you return to eating your dinner in quiet.

*****

He's not sure what started it, or even why you're upset. All he knows is a fight has broken out between you. Nothing too serious, but enough that you've taken a drive to clear your head, something you've rarely done before over an argument. It worries him.

Sukuna is used to fighting. He does it all the time. You could argue it's his favorite passtime. But not with you. Not here. His home is his sanctuary and you are his refuge. An unfamiliar feeling of guilt and unease settles in his stomach making him shudder. Absently turning on the TV and moving to his chair, he decides to sit, remembering to check for stray rocks this time. Staring blankly into space, wondering what he's done to set you off and how he might fix it, a feeling of déjà vu reaches his mind from the distant voice on the television.

"-he's spent days searching for the perfect stone. Now, as he makes his way back toward his chosen mate, the male penguin is hopeful she'll accept his courtship offering."

His eyes flick to the screen with rapt curiosity as the penguin offers the beach's shiniest pebble to the waiting female.

"Placing the pebble carefully within the center of her nest, she displays the male's offering as a sign of their successful pairing. Now the two will continue to hunt for rocks with which to complete their nest together."

Sukuna bites back the ridiculous urge to pump his fist in triumph for the hopeful male. Springing to his feet, he knows exactly what he must do.

*****

Later that evening you return, the bitter sting of your earlier argument now a soft ache in your chest. You decided to run some errands while you were out, huffing through the door with the entirety of your grocery run split between your two straining arms.

"Woman!" Sukuna's voice cuts through the quiet, its usual edge replaced by doting concern. "Let me help you!"

"It's fine, Ryo, I-" you stop dead in your tracks, eyes landing on a fixture you've never seen before. A bag slides from your slackened grip, punctuating the silence. "Ryo? What is that?"

"Do you like it?" He asks, eyes cast timidly to the side, one sheepish hand stroking the back of his neck.

"You...you built a shelf for all my s-stupid rocks while I was...gone?" Your words catching in disbelief.

"I can take it down if you don-"

=FWUMP=

All the bags hit the floor simultaneously as your arms wrap tightly around his middle, face buried against his chest. Salty tears stain his robes as you babble incoherently against his heart's steady beating. After a moment, he taps your shoulder.

"There's a new one, too," he hums in a low voice. Pointing toward the shelf's center a glittering pebble the same shade as your eyes catches the evening's fading light. "I didn't spend hours searching an entire beach for it..." he jokes softly, "...but I hope you'll still..."

Reaching up, you pull him in for a salt-stained kiss- the first of many more that evening. The fear that you bore him, the occassional worry that he doesn't care to listen to the ramblings of a half-mad woman in love, swept away by the lessons of a penguin and one perfect, shining pebble.