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#and thank you so so so much for the patience
maxivstappen · 3 days
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can I request text au in which you hide that you’re sick because you didn’t want to bother him etc 🙊
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊
featuring ; max verstappen, charles leclerc, lando norris, carlos sainz, oscar piastri, lewis hamilton, george russel, logan sargeant, daniel ricciardo
🎙️:: thank you so much for requesting and for your patience ! haven’t done one of these in a while but it’s something to keep you guys entertained while i’m busying myself with the 1k event :)
CRACK & ANGST & FLUFF — TEXT MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
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🎙️:: reblogs are heavily appreciated as always, thanks for reading !
taglist :: @norrisdriver <3
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comicaurora · 1 day
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Do you think the main characters (in aurora)’s fatal flaws can be summed up in one word? If so, what are they?
Yes, but most of my answers only register as flaws if you squint. I think characters are most interesting if their admirable qualities are also what gets them in trouble, and anything becomes a flaw in the right circumstances.
Kendal is selfless. He barely registers himself as a person, so his acts of compassion frequently come at a severe personal cost. He has a massive blind spot for how much it hurts others when he hurts himself. He is kind and lacking in ego, but he has zero ability to advocate for himself. He defines himself by what he can do for others, and is only barely beginning to understand that he can do things for himself.
Alinua is paralyzed. She wants to heal and she does not want to hurt, and she's wrestling with a massive, terrifying power and responsibility that allows her to do both. She spent so long terrified of hurting anyone that she overthinks her actions unless she's running on pure adrenaline and impulsiveness can take over for her.
Erin is independent. He's quicker than everyone around him, and he has no patience for anyone who he sees as slowing him down. He is tremendously powerful and very intelligent, but he has absolutely no ability to work in a team, because that means trusting others to execute his ideas flawlessly, and from his angle, nobody can do that reliably except for him. It's not a logical conclusion, but he can always find a reason for why his plans were foiled by other people messing them up. Erin would love to be helped and rescued. He just knows nobody can, and nobody will.
Falst is loyal. Falst is also unbelievably lonely and, like Erin, has cultivated extreme self-reliance in the face of neglect. Falst loves being part of a team, but has absolutely no ability to trust that he is safe in it. He hasn't been wanted anywhere in a very long time. He's too proud to say that, and he's very angry at the part of himself that is hurt by that, which makes him very volatile in very specific contexts where that part of him is exposed to the air.
Dainix is insightful. He reads people too clearly, but has very little understanding of how much it's okay to plainly say about what other people are thinking and feeling. Where he's from, thanks to the magical influence of Fire, the seat of emotion, everyone can to a certain extent feel the vibes and temperature of the room and everyone is mostly on the same page about it. He is utterly unprepared for people like Falst who become extremely defensive at any insight that prods a sensitive spot, and he's pretty much hopeless at performing any deceit more complex than a half-truth.
Tess is free. She's the ideal of wanderlust, and living her truth is good for her, but it makes her fundamentally unreliable for everyone around her. She cannot be comfortable in stability, and she is ultimately following a selfish goal of pure self-determination that makes it impossible for her to stay anywhere long. She is disconnected from her surroundings and the people who love her. She doesn't like thinking of her loved ones as tethers holding her down, but if she stays anywhere too long, that's what they become.
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northern-passage · 3 days
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The Northern Passage has been updated!
09.25.24: This update consists of what was previously the prologue; it's now our new Chapter 1. Heavy edits have been made and various scenes have been rewritten, as well as overall improvements with the combat system and lore to make the game more cohesive.
The demo, for the time being, will cut off at the end of this new Chapter 1. My plan is to continue editing and rewriting Chapter 2 (what was previously the first chapter after the prologue) and hopefully rerelease that relatively soon, and then complete the new content update and release all of Chapter 3. This process, while tedious, is helping me tremendously with streamlining code & fixing previous mistakes made by me when I first started this project, and while I wanted to avoid going back and editing originally until much later in the process, this is just something that I had to do in order to move forward with Chapter 3.
I've also updated the content warnings on the game page and allowed for players to turn on warnings in-game, so you get a more specific list of warnings at the start of each chapter (like with Blood Choke).
As always, please let me know if you run into any errors, especially since part of this rewrite included me redoing a lot of my messy code and renaming passages, etc. Thank you everyone for your patience and continued support of this game over the years 💕
Play it here!
Project Intro | FAQ | Tip Jar
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colleendoran · 1 day
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About a month left to go.
Thank you so much to Dunmanifestin for their kind patience while I recovered from cancer. And thank you to all the fans for your patience as well.
While I intended to color the entire project myself and did a good chunk of the book already, I'm very grateful to the colorist team who is helping me bring this project home. If I finish it all myself it would take another three months and it takes at least two months simply to run the printing press for a print run this large. And you don't want that.
Thank you to Sean Lee, Logan and Lisa Lubrera, and Daniel Junior.
Thank you also to Lois Buhalis whose lettering is fantastic.
For obvious reasons, I am focusing entirely on this and not getting into anything else online. So don't drag me into anything, don't even try. Because my assistant is screening everything, and I need that shield.
As you all know, times have been difficult beyond belief, but I owe it to the fans and the family of Terry Pratchett to do right by this project.
Thirty days from now I'll be walking away, with gratitude, with sadness, and with hope.
That's all.
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dorkydiaz · 2 days
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Bathena <3 -> a gift for @lets-turn-silences-into-words for the @911fanworksfestival
thank you so much for your patience <3
[insp] [psd]
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nathaslosthershit · 17 hours
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Oh Brother(s)! (LS2) (Leclerc!Reader)
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Logan Sargeant x Leclerc!Reader (Part 2 to Red, White, and Williams' Blue but can be read as a standalone) Summary: All Logan Sargeant wanted was a nice and productive conversation with the love of his life’s three annoyingly protective older brothers, was that too much to ask for? Request: Hi Natalia! Finished reading: Red, White, and Williams' Blue (LS2) (Note to self: my official comfort fic🥹), is it okay if I could request a part 2 to it? (If you do part 2’s)? Nothing specific just maybe seeing how they’re relationship is going? (You can add whatever you want to it, but that’s my idea as of now) Thank you!!! A/N: Its my fic and I get to do whatever I want with it so I say Logan Sargeant is happy and employed. I miss him so bad. This was also such a sweet request because I too really like that fic. 
“What are we going to do with him?” Charles asked his brothers, keeping his eyes on their victim sister’s boyfriend. The three Leclerc brothers were standing menacingly with their arms crossed in the living room.
Logan sat in a chair placed right in front of them. They said he wasn’t allowed to stand, and they weren’t going to sit. They didn’t want Logan thinking there was equal power between him and the brothers.
What family was he trying to marry into?
Right, that's why he was here, he came to ask Enzo, Arthur, and Charles for their sister’s hand in marriage. It felt so medieval but they were fiercely protective of her and he didn’t want to give them reason to object at the wedding. 
“Can we at least turn the lights on?” Logan begged.
“If the lights are on you won’t be scared.” Arthur replied.
“No, I think as long as it's the three of you I am talking to, I'll be frightened.” Logan didn’t actually think this, he had plenty of normal, stress free, calm conversations with them but he knew they would get an ego boost at hearing ‘how scared he was’. 
“So, you want to marry our baby sister?” Enzo asked. 
They keep asking that question as if they don’t know thats exactly why he is there.
“Considering I started this conversation off with ‘I want to ask your sister to marry me’ I think that is a safe assumption to make.”
“And you haven’t asked our maman? Why would we say yes when you don’t have the decency to go to the matriarch?” Questioned Arthur.
Logan had to come up with a good excuse for that.
“I had… I wanted to ask you all first, you are her brothers and she respects and cares what you all think. Plus I knew I’d have an easier time asking Pascale than you three.”
“Drop the attitude and maybe we will say yes.” Charles commented.
This was ridiculous, he had been there 45 minutes and still had not gotten an answer. 
“How can we trust someone who doesn’t understand why we are protective of our sister?” Enzo spoke up.
“Of course I understand but this is-”
“A perfectly reasonable response to the question you asked us.” Arthur stuck up his nose as he said this, pissing off Logan even more. All he wanted to do was marry this girl.
“But if you guys keep speaking over me than-”
“Now you are trying to silence us? We are only looking out for our baby sister and you are getting mad?” He could tell that the brothers were mostly teasing him, but he had officially run out of patience. 
“Okay! Thats enough. All three of you sit down on the couch so I can say my speech.” Logan commanded, getting up from his chair as he pointed to where he wanted the brothers to go.
Surprised, and a little intrigued at the outburst, the three sat down with nothing more than a few angry huffs.
“You all have known me as the man who is dating your sister for three years. In all of that time, was I ever rude or disrespectful to any of you?” 
The three monegasques shook their heads.
“Was I ever rude to your sister? Did I ever treat her with anything but the utmost love and care?” 
The brothers shook their heads again.
“So, I have always been nothing but kind and respectful. I have never given any of you a reason to not like nor trust me. I have been faithful and nothing but loving towards your sister. I have a career and a well paying job so you all have no reason to think she wouldn’t be taken care of. What can I do to just have you give me a simple answer?” Logan finally took a breath. He had a better speech prepared, one that had less yelling, but he didn’t have the patience anymore.
The three Leclercs stayed silent. Logan began to sweat. Maybe the yelling wasn’t the most helpful method of asking them for their permission.
He then let out a breath as the three in front of him began to smile.
It was a ‘we are totally fucking with you and are amused by your outburst’ smile.
Fucking hell, he knew it and still let them get in his head.
“Sorry Logan, we couldn’t resist. Had to see where your patience ran out for future reference now that you are a part of the family” Charles laughed while standing up to pat Logan on the back. 
It took a second to register what he said.
“So- so you all agree?” Logan asked, not sure if they were still fucking with him.
“Yes, mate, we knew you were here to ask our permission to marry her the moment you asked to meet up with us.” Enzo replied.
Behind the American, he heard feet approaching and based on the fact he saw all the color drain from the brothers’ face, he knew who it was.
All of the brothers felt their stomach drop as their sister walked into the room. She had heard everything! They had ruined their baby sister’s proposal.
The three boys began to freak out, their made up excuses overlapping with each other making it hard to hear a single word. 
Logan ran up to go hug her, spinning her around in excitement. This made everyone else go still. Why was he not upset? They had just ruined his big moment by being overprotective idiots.
At the confusion clearly displayed on their faces, their sister spoke up, “Logan may have already asked me a month ago, we just couldn’t see you in person until now so we waited to say anything.”
“I also just needed a little confirmation that you three wouldn’t kill me for proposing before I got permission from you guys. Although, to be fair, I did ask Pascale before I did anything.” Logan said
“So it was all a lie? You didn’t want to ask us first because we are the most important people?” Arthur asked.
“Are you guys serious? He has no reason to ask you three idiots first. Or at all! You are overprotective babies.” Their sister answered. 
As the Leclerc boys all spoke over each other for the second time, arguing with their sister's comment, Logan kissed his fiancé, the two blissfully unaware of what the brothers were screaming about.
And far too in love to care.
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grandline-fics · 3 days
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Could you please write a gn reader with Crocodile, Kid and Buggy hurting them while controlled?
DESCRIPTION: They hurt you while controlled by a devil fruit
WARNINGS: angst, descriptions of injury, hurt to comfort
CHARACTERS: Zoro, Law, Shanks, Mihawk | Luffy, Ace, Sabo | Crocodile, Kid
WORDS: 1,946
A/N: Thank you for requesting! This seems to be a popular request. I mean who doesn't love some hurt/comfort themed angst. Only managed to get something thought up for with Crocodile and Kid. I'll get one for Buggy done soon and include it with one of the other characters requested. Hope you like what I came up with!
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST
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CROCODILE
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Crocodile was never a stranger to violence or bloodlust when the fighting got intense but this was intense. This was all consuming and possessive, this anger and desire to obliterate anything and everything in his path took hold of him so fiercely. In the haze he was faintly aware of voices calling for him, trying to appeal to his better nature, urging him to calm before he hurt those he was allied with but he didn’t listen, part of him didn’t want to listen. It had been a while since he got to truly go all out like this. Slowly he felt the violent waves coursing through his blood begin to pull back and clarity began to return to his mind and then he felt the familiar warmth of your body against his. Crocodile looked down at you and for a moment it would have been easily mistaken for a soft embrace between you both. 
However as he came to his senses he finally saw the hazy, unfocused look in your pained eyes and felt the slowly dampening of his shirt cuff that met the base of his hook. The sense of dread that overcame Crocodile felt so much worse and far more intense than his earlier rush of unexplained savagery. He could hear the slow almost rhythmic dripping of your blood hitting the ground and it mixed painfully with your struggled breaths, weak and thready. He moved to get a better look only to stop when your shaking hand touched his cheek. Crocodile reluctantly met your gaze and tensed to see you let out a shuddering sigh of relief and your trembling lips fell into smile. “Cr…croc…y-you’re back. Good.”
Good? Good?! Even now you were concerned for him? It seemed as though you had forced yourself to stay conscious long enough to ensure he’d returned to his usual self because as soon as you’d confirmed it your already weakened body slumped against his, completely unconscious. Immediately Crocodile sprung into action, barking commands for any and all those around him to clean up the destruction he’d caused while those that had medical training saw to you first and any others he’d hurt second. You were his priority. When he’d safely transferred you to the care of the medics while also having to remove his hook from his arm he turned to those he trusted most to explain what had happened. 
It turned out someone from his past held a grudge fiercer than he’d given them credit for and sent one of their subordinates to deal with Crocodile for his past doings. While they had only been told to kill the former Warlord, the subordinate’s Devil Fruit had presented a much more enticing method to inflict Crocodile’s punishment. While disguised, they’d managed to get close enough to place Crocodile under their influence and command him to cause as much carnage as possible. The Devil Fruit user had been dealt with when they tried to escape Cross Guild but even then their power had a time limit and in that time, Crocodile had wrought destruction that only proved how fearsome a man he really was under the fine clothes and practiced patience your influence had formed in him over the years. 
Through the time you lay sleeping, Crocodile remained sat at his desk in the bedroom deciding to throw himself into the distraction of work while also remaining close. He still refused to reattach his hook. Every time he so much as looked at it, despite it having been cleaned and polished so intensely he could only see it still covered in your blood and it actually sickened him. Had it been anyone else he’d gored with his signature prosthetic he wouldn’t have bat an eye. Hell he didn’t even feel guilty about the others who’d been injured in his rampage, it was only how he nearly killed you that haunted him. He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you’d woken until you were trying to sit up in the bed. Immediately he dispersed his body into sand and was across the room in an instant. “Slowly, love. Just sit back and rest.”
“Where’s your hook?” You asked weakly, eyebrows pulling together in confusion as you let him coax you back against the propped up pillows. Crocodile studied your face carefully but the small scowl on his lips told you he wasn’t going to answer. “This has really shaken you, hasn’t it?”
“You’re the only thing that I’d consider that makes me vulnerable. To be the one responsible for this…” he paused to glanced down, knowing the severe injury now hidden by your clothes and bandages. “I suppose even I can be shakable in those circumstances.”
“I understand. Just don’t let it haunt you for too long, okay?” You asked, leaning in to his touch when his hand cupped your face gently. Crocodile took a long steadying breath and nodded, pulling his hand away from your face to reach into the inside of his coat and hesitantly pulled out his hook and into view. Through it all he watched your expression carefully in case the sight of it drew out your true subconscious feelings of fear over the fact this was the weapon that could have killed you. Instead you gently took it to assist reattaching it, smiling wide when it clicked into place. 
KID
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“What’s happened now?!” You shouted over the high pitched shriek of Kid’s magnetic powers kicked into a fiercer frequency. You and the rest of the crew had engaged in a full scale battle that had been going smoothly. Your opponents weren’t pushovers but they weren’t exactly the strongest people you’d ever fought. It was enough to be fun and still break a slight sweat, the perfect balance you thought. Just as things seemed to have been winding down, Kid’s outburst of mounting power erupted as if from nowhere with no discernible reason why. You let out a gasp of shock and dodged just in time as a large shard of metal cut through the air. You looked to your second in command, the one who’d been closest to Kid through the fight. “Killer?!”
“Something’s up with Kid!” Killer shouted, also taking cover. “We took the bastard down but he got one last hit in. That’s when Kid started acting weird!” You took a chance and looked out from around the wall you’d ducked behind to see Kid’s face was completely unreadable but the overwhelming need for destruction and violence was suffocating. You’d experienced Kid at his angriest but this was something else entirely. Normally he’d get lost in the fight and yell but it unnerved you to hear nothing from him and see his usually burning gaze dulled and darkened. This wasn’t Kid. This wasn’t your Kid. Licking your dry lips, you tightened your hands into fists and wordlessly caught Killer’s attention once more. Silently you both seemed to have the same thought. With a firm nod you both broke out from your covers and acted.
Kid’s head was throbbing and his vision blurred as it slowly began to sharpen again. This felt like the world’s worst hangover combined with being hit with a full Marine ship. His limbs all but screamed in agony and he couldn’t shake the ringing in his ears. Dully he could make out the muffled yells of someone calling his name. In whoosh, his hearing snapped back to normal as Killer bellowed out his name. “Kid! Snap out of it before you kill them, please!” 
Looking over he saw Killer pinned against the wall, his blades magnetised to the surface and stopping him from breaking free. Confused about why his power would restrain his best friend he quickly broke it, watching Killer drop to his ground. The second he was free, Killer sped across the distance and barrelled hard into his Captain in the hopes of releasing his metal hand. Only now did Kid recall Killer’s yell and he looked down to see you lying at his feet. Horror filled Kid as he saw you bloodied and unconscious, your body being squeezed in his bulked metal hand. Immediately he let go of you and staggered back. No, this couldn’t be happening. How did this happen?
Through you time recovering Kid kept his distance. At first while you were unconscious and he knew you’d be okay with time he’d tried to force himself to act like this hadn’t affected him. The crew had reassured him that he wasn't to blame for any of it and on the outside he’d agreed but that first night when he went to check on your still sleeping form he all but broke down. Of what he could see of your body was flared with dark purple and your face was twisted in discomfort. Everyone in the ship had suffered horrible injuries in the past, that was nothing new and to be expected. As much as he tried to find reason behind it and use his bravado to seem like the same old Kid, he felt sick to his stomach at his actions. The guilt was unbearable and he couldn’t bring himself to be near you and was secretly glad you’d been put on the strictest bed rest until you were given a full all clear. Kid had planned to use that time to get his head on straight. Sadly it never came. 
Every night since that day he hurt you he was plagued with nightmares. Some just filled with the sight of your body crushed by his hand. Others took the already painful experience further and twisted it to the point he’d dreamt he’d killed you. The end was always the same, he’d wake with a gasp and drenched in a cold sweat unable to breathe. One night after waking from the nightmare he jumped at the sound of a knock at his door. Slowly he rose and opened the door only to freeze to see you standing there. “Y-you should be in bed. You’re still healing.”
“If anyone needs healing it’s you.” You told him softly, your eyes scanning his haunted expression sadly. When Kid opened his mouth to argue, you held up a hand to stop him, immediately he shut his mouth. You stepped into Kids room and took his hand in yours, leading him to his bed and making him lie down before you settled into the space beside him, curling up and settling your hand on his chest. Before you’d gotten hurt it wasn’t rare for you and Kid to nap together on the deck when the mornings were slow so you were both used to this position, even if being in his bed at night made things more intimate. Still you felt how tense he was and sighed. “What’s done is done and if I knew how this would have gone…I’d still have done what I did to try and save you. I only regret how much this is eating you up. Just focus on my breathing, Kid. I’m still alive. I’m here with you.”
“That nearly wasn’t the case. I almost killed you.” Kid felt the panic claw at his chest, this was the first time he’d spoken the words. The first time he’d spoken to you since…”I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh. Just sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Your voice was as warm as always, no hint of hatred for him in your tone. Reluctantly Kid settled his arm around you and closed his eyes, falling into the best night’s sleep he’d had in a long while with no more nightmares to haunt him.
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TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa
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sungstars · 1 day
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slut me out | njm x fem!reader
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i.e you needed to give your situationship the time of his life after seeing his instagram story.
word count: 2.8k (not proof read)
content warning: situationship, open ending, smut lol, oral (m. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), explicit sex, unprotected sex(no!), creampie, lmk if i missed anything thanks!
author's note: two fics in one day! can we believe this LOL. would you guys be surprised if i said that i have a mark one that i'm hoping to finish and it'll be queued up for tomorrow morning/afternoon. i hope you all enjoy this fic and as always, dedicated to my crazy and delusional bffs. likes & reblogs are appreciated as always. requests are open till october 5th! i'm still working on my jay fic, and hoping to have that out by tuesday!!
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“you’re fucking crazy,” you said once the phone picked up after the first ring, “you can delete that story, i saw it.”
jaemin let out a hearty laugh, “hmm? but jisungie looks so cute, what if one of my followers wants me to put them on with him?”
you jeer, fingering hovering over the red button on the screen, “you definitely could’ve posted him without making sure your shirt is unbuttoned and they can see the chain that i bought you peeking through. what if they’re crazy like me?”
“don’t worry, nobody has you beat in that department.” jaemin added quickly, “you can come over if you want.”
did you want to? absolutely. you needed to rock his world so hard that it was likely to be rated a category 9.5 earthquake.
“you can come to me,” you quipped back, “and hurry up, i dont have a lot of patience. don’t change either.”
“you’re so demanding,” jaemin whined, a glint of playfulness evident in his voice, “i have to stop at my other hoe’s house first, but i’ll be there.”
“not even funny.” you hung up the phone, rolling your eyes.
focusing back on your room, you jumped up in a panic. you needed to change and also pick up the clothes you had thrown all over the place.
realistically, you didn’t know if jaemin was kidding about seeing somebody else first, but if he wasn’t, you had about twenty minutes including traffic before he got to your place.
you shoved all the loose piece of clothing into whatever drawer or laundry basket they would fit into. doing a once over your room, you were satisfied with what you were able to do.
looking at your floor length mirror, you didn’t care too much about what you had on. a big t-shirt with snoopy playing baseball on the front.
easy access for jaemin, but you should probably change your dingy halloween panties from victoria secret into something cute.
perhaps pink? that seemed on brand for tonight’s theme.
you were digging through your underwear drawer looking for that lacey pink thong you got from the mall a few weeks ago when you heard a knock on your door.
“fuck,” you said, slamming the drawer shut to no avail and rubbing your hands down your hair to smooth out any frizz, “fuck.”
the knocking got louder, causing you to practically trip on air as you ran to grab the door.
“took your sweet time letting me in,” jaemin pouted. leaning against the doorframe when you opened it, “that mad at me?”
rolling your eyes, you pulled him in by his silky pajama shirt and closing the door behind him, “guess she wasn’t that good if you got here within the same hour of calling.”
jaemin smiled, dropping down onto your couch and sliding his shoes off, “i’d say she was pretty damn good if i got done quickly and i’m not here.”
you crossed your arms, scoffing at his comment and began to walk to your bedroom.
“you’re such a dick.”
“i heard that,” he said, jumping off the couch to chase behind you, “i'm just kidding y/n, you know it's just you."
"are you sure? cause you keep making comments about other girls, are you trynna compensate? i don't care if you see other people."
jaemin laughed at you for the nth time this evening, making you want to just slam your bedroom door in his face and lock him out, but unfortunately for you, seeing jaemin in those pink pajamas and gold chain sent you into borderline ovulation.
you grabbed jaemin by the arm, leading him to sit on your bed and standing between his legs.
"it's just you," jaemin reassured, a hand coming up to rub your hip gently, "just like driving you crazy 'cause i know you're really fucking insane."
jaemin got a whiff of your secret cloud perfume as you leaned down and kissed his neck gently.
"i'm going to turn you every way but loose tonight," you whispered into his ear, teeth grazing the shell of his ear, "and i'm gonna show you how insane i am over you."
a shiver went down jaemin's back as you kissed down his neck and to his adam's apple, making sure to suck dark marks into his skin before placing your lips on his.
his arms wrapped your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he deepened the kiss. your hands found their way entangled into his brunette locks, moaning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
the two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, though jaemin just wanted to put up a good fight before letting you win.
you then slipped your tongue into his mouth, removing your hands from his hair and moving them down to his shoulders.
you gently pushed him back and onto the mattress, letting your fingers skillfully undo his pajama shirt, enjoying the smooth silk under your fingertips before pulling the shirt open.
jaemin pressed his hips up, hoping to get a small bit of friction on his growing erection and moaning when you rut your own hips down.
pulling away from the kiss, your chest heaved as you did a lookover his body. his plush lips swollen and glossy with spit, dark splots decorating his skin from earlier, his own defined chest moving rapidly as he tried to catch his own breath.
"you look so pretty under me, jaem," you complimented, your fingers dancing across his exposed collarbones and down his gold chain, "a sight only i should be allowed to see."
jaemin exhaled heavily through his nose, "a sight only for you. . please, don't stop. i want you. . i need you so badly, y/n."
how could you deny such a request from a pretty boy completely at your disposal? you weren't a cruel or dumb woman, so of course you'll comply.
you leaned down to attach your lips to his collarbone, biting and sucking gently as you made your way down his chest.
moving the pink fabric away, you let your tongue teasingly flick at his nipple to elicit a whiny moan from his mouth before taking his nipple between your lips.
"fuck y/n," he groaned, "that feels so good."
smirking to yourself, you pull off and stand up. the boy's eyes widened, trying to hold back another whine because why did you pull off? and why are you standing?
"c'mon," jaemin said, voice cracking slightly, "don't be a tease."
"a tease?" you titled your head as he sat up on his elbows, "if you beg, i'll consider."
a bright red hue cascaded over jaemin's face at your request, but he couldn't get any more pathetic than he already looked.
"y/n," he pleaded, "please do something. i am so undeniably hard, and if i don't feel those pretty lips or pretty hands wrapped around my dick that i know you love, i will implode and you'll be out of a bomb dick appointment and home."
a laugh escaped, jaemin really knew what to say to make you give into him. it's why you liked him honestly. he was funny and charming, and did in fact have a great dick that drove you insane. you used to be normal before he stuck his dick in you.
jaemin reached forward, grabbing your hand and placing it over his boner. that action alone could've made you cum in your panties because pathetic jaemin was probably your favorite jaemin.
you instinctively wrapped your fingers around it the best you could while it was restrained in those silky pants, slowly jerking him off and watching a bead of precum stain the fabric.
"see how hard i am?" he asked, breathily, "all for you. all because of you."
stroking your ego was one of the many things jaemin was good at, so you decided to play nicely and give him something to relief this tension you could feel growing in his body.
"take 'em off," you said, releasing his cock from your grip, moving back to give him room, "show me that pretty dick, jaem."
if you weren't standing in front of him, you were sure he would've fell face forward onto your carpet from how fast he was trying to get his pants down and off his hips.
once they were at his thighs, you leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before sinking down to your knees.
you were face to face with jaemin's cock, the tip an angry shade of red and precum still leaking from his slit.
spit began to pool inside your mouth the longer you looked at it, and you stuck your tongue out to swipe the precum dribbling from his cock.
jaemin moaned out, hands gripping the sheets beneath him, “stop. . put it in your mouth.”
you furrowed your eyebrows and looked up, “don’t make demands.”
the brunette’s jaw ticked, one hand coming up to your hair and the other grabbing the base of his dick.
he pushed your head back roughly, tapping the head of his cock on your lips and smearing more precum across, “don’t be a fucking tease.”
your eyes widened in surprise at the switch in jaemin's demeanor, but instead of giving him a hard time, you complied by opening your mouth for him.
without hesitation, jaemin shoved his cock into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag and tears well up in your eyes.
"don't get sensitive now," he mumbled, swiping the tears from your face, "now be good and suck. show me why you're my favorite."
his favorite? you should been his fuckin' only like he said you were earlier. what is up with the inconsistency? he's gonna piss you off.
you used your tongue to lick the under part of his cock, pulling off to leave just the tip in your mouth.
jaemin's grip on your hair tightened, trying his best to let you have control, but wanting nothing more than to just fuck your throat until you're sobbing.
you pulled completely off his cock, bringing your hand to jerk him off while you used your tongue to lick a stripe on his balls and gently suck.
the brunette's eyes rolled back, a string of moans and high pitched whines leaving his throat as you continued to toy with his balls.
whenever your hand reached the tip, you would squeeze every so slightly, causing him to fuck into your hand.
jaemin was close, and you could tell by the way he was whimpering and trying to chase your hand.
you looked up at him, smiling to yourself before pulling off his dick completely, basking in his borderline sob at the loss of contact.
"why did you stop?" tears welled up in his eyes, feeling like he would explode, "you're so fuckin' mean."
cooing, you wiped tears away from his eyes like he did earlier, "cause i knew you were close, jaem."
he sniffled, grabbing you and pinning you down onto the bed in one swift motion.
sometimes, you forget how strong he can be, causing you to get even more wet if that was possible. your panties were sticking almost uncomfortably to your cunt, and you were hoping he would do something to relief that soon.
too lost in your own thoughts of pleasure, you didn't even realize jaemin was pulling your t-shirt up until the cool air hit your nipples.
he used his lithe digits to roll your perked nipples around, causing you to squeal at the contact.
"love the panties," jaemin teased, using one of his hands to snap the waistband against your skin, "so cute and so soaked. god, you really get off from anything as long as it's me, huh?"
"you fuckin' wish," you tried to bite, but it came out as a whimper when he pressed his hand against your core, allowing for some friction of pleasure.
"shhh," he said, "can't even muster an ounce of niceness when i'm about to fuck you?"
jaemin flicked your nipples, smirking at your almost pained moan before moving down to take your underwear off, eyes watching how they were sticking to your sopping cunt, "so wet for me, hm?"
you nodded your head in compliance this time, "all for you."
he swiped a finger up your slit, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean, "taste so sweet, but act so so mean towards nana, wonder why that is?"
you huffed, hooking a heel behind his thigh and pulling him close so his cock would make some contact with your cunt, a noise escaping your throat when the tip came into rough contact with your clit.
"that needy? what was it you said earlier? beg. beg for it, dumb whore."
degrading was something you and jaemin never tried, but with how effortlessly it slipped out of his mouth, you wish he would've done it sooner.
"jaem," you grinded against his cock, "please fuck me, y'know you want to. please, i need it so badly."
jaemin just looked at you unimpressed, dragging his cock up and down your cunt, looking at how you falter when his tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves, "beg more."
you wanted to burst into tears, he knows how much you want him, he can feel how wet you are and probably at more slickness slipping out as he teased you, "nana, please put it in. i'll stop being mean, promise. i need your cock--i need you. please fuck me."
his left hand came up to smooth your hair out, smiling all his pearls at you as he slowly pushed the fat tip of his cock into you, finally.
jaemin slowly pushed himself into your cunt, moaning at how easily you took his cock, letting his hand fall from your hair and place pressure on your clit.
"it's like you were made for me, fuck" he gritted his teeth, thrusting shallowly into you, "taking me so well every time, your cunt just fuckin' sucks me in.. ha."
all you could do was moan in response, eyes rolling back when jaemin's gold chain smacked you in the nose, "fuck, too good."
jaemin rubbed your clit roughly as he picked his pace up, hips snapping against yours as your arousal ran down your thighs and his balls, creating a wet sound between the two of you.
you clenched around jaemin's cock, letting out high pitched noises of pleasure as he fucked you harshly, the knot in your stomach tightening and traveling down your pelvis.
"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" you cried, placing your hand on his lower abdomen and trying to push him away, but he quickly snatched it and held it above your head, "jaem, fuck, please, it's too much."
jaemin ignored your pleas, "y'know you can take it, stop trying to run from it."
when jaemin snapped his hips harshly once more, you felt that knot in your stomach break and ecstasy overtake your senses.
you couldn't even muster the feeling of embarassment from how good you felt when liquid practically sprayed your thighs and jaemin's abdomen.
the boy tapped the head of his cock on your clit, groaning loudly as you continued to squirt before roughly showing himself back into you.
"jaemin," you squealed, back arching up, "i can't! i can't."
"you can," he said, fucking you harshly, feeling himself getting closer and closer, "and you will take this dick. you wanna whine about other people havin' it so bad, take it, slut."
with jaemin fucking you so soon after an intense orgasm, all you could do was sob and mumble his name. it wasn't going to take you long to cum again, and jaemin could tell about how you were clenching on his dick.
your fingers dug into his shoulders, creating red crescents as his chain smacked you over and over again, his orgasm approaching any second.
"i'm so close, angel." he whined, his thrusts starting to stutter and slow down, "fuck, can i come inside please?"
"o-of course," you nodded your head, your own orgasm approaching once more, "please cum in me."
one more snap of jaemin's hips and he let out a loud moan, stilling himself as white hot ropes of his cum began to fill you and create a creamy ring around his cock, "fuck, you were too good."
he began to thrust slowly to ride out your orgasms, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet praises into your ear.
once you pushed his chest away to let him know he was overstimulating you, he pulled out completely and laid next to you, chest heaving rapidly.
"y/n." he turned on his side, "i really do like you."
you smiled, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, "i really like you too jaemin."
he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and pulled you closer to him, "it's always been just you."
end!
178 notes · View notes
r6eduss · 17 hours
Note
Would you do a jealous daryl fic? Im pretty open to whatever, I just like it when he gets all riled up.
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Play Date.
•Summary: You confess to Daryl, but he doesn’t take it serious, leaving you heartbroken. But when he sees you with Spencer the next day, it sparks jealousy in him he didn’t know he had. (Fem reader)
•Warnings: 18+, No established relationship, angst, fluff
•Word Count: 3.5k
•Setting: Alexandria
•A/N: thank you for the request anon! I’m sorry if you aren’t happy with the results. It took me awhile to write this 🫶🏼 I think if Daryl were actually in a relationship with you, he’d be more trusting so he wouldn’t be as jealous.
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The walls of Alexandria were a stark contrast to the world outside. It wasn’t just the literal separation between life and death, safety and chaos; it was the reminder of what life had been before everything fell apart. It wasn’t long ago that the world had been buzzing with electricity, the hum of cities, and the simple luxuries they all took for granted. But now? Now, the very idea of safety felt alien.
You glanced over at the furniture as you walked around the home you had been given, the group clustered around you like a protective herd. You all had been in Alexandria for only a day or two, and even though everyone was supposed to be settling in, there was an air of distrust hanging over the group. Rick, in particular, was on edge, his eyes scanning every corner of the street for unseen threats.
Daryl, meanwhile, looked as out of place as he felt. His clothes were worn and dirty, his hair hanging down over his face, but it wasn’t just his appearance that set him apart from the clean-cut Alexandrians. It was the way he held himself, like a caged animal, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.
You’d known Daryl long enough to recognize the signs. He didn’t belong in a place like this, and he knew it. Hell, none of them did. But Daryl? He was different. He’d always been more comfortable in the wild even before the fall, so here, with their pristine houses and manicured lawns, he felt suffocated.
When Deanna invited everyone to the party, Daryl’s reaction was immediate and expected.
“I ain’t goin’,” he grunted, not even looking at you as he adjusted the strap on his crossbow. He was standing on the porch of the house you were all sharing, still on edge about sleeping inside, feeling a need to stay outside and keep watch to protect them from any and all possible dangers.
“Daryl…” you started, your voice soft, knowing that reasoning with him required patience. “It’s just for a little while. We’ve been out there so long, and Deanna’s trying to make us feel at home. I know it’s not what you want, but could you come? For me?”
Daryl stopped, his fingers stilling on the strap, and he turned to look at you, his blue eyes piercing through the shadows of his messy hair. You saw the hesitation in him, the way he always struggled with doing things for others when they weren’t strictly necessary for survival. But you weren’t asking for much—just his presence.
“Fine,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “‘But I ain’t puttin’ on no tie.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “Deal.”
The party was already in full swing by the time you had arrived. People were mingling, drinks in hand, laughter filling the air in a way that felt foreign to the group that had spent so long fighting for their lives. It was strange, surreal even, to see people acting as though the world outside wasn’t in ruins. You noticed how uncomfortable Daryl looked almost immediately, his broad shoulders hunched in his black button up shirt while his eyes scanned the crowd as if he were looking for an escape route.
Daryl didn’t say much, hovering behind you like a shadow, his discomfort evident in every tense movement. People from Alexandria approached you, eager to learn about the new arrivals. They asked questions—about where your group had came from, how long they’d been on the road, and how you were all adjusting. You answered politely, but there was always a part of you that held back, a part that still didn’t fully trust this place.
Daryl, meanwhile, was grateful that no one spoke to him, even if the reason they didn’t was because they feared him. He stayed quiet, following you from conversation to conversation, his eyes flicking between you and the people who approached. He felt out of place, like he didn’t belong among these clean, well-fed people who seemed oblivious to the horrors faced outside those walls. But he stayed because you, the person he loved, asked him to.
Eventually, Deanna approached, her smile warm as she introduced you and Daryl to her husband, Reg.
“It’s so nice to meet you both.” Reg began, glancing between the two of them with a kind smile. “So, how long have you two been together?”
Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you quickly corrected him, laughing nervously. “Oh, no, we’re not… we’re not together.”
Daryl stayed silent, his heart was racing but he said nothing. He wasn’t sure what to say, anyway. The awkwardness of the moment hung in the air for a second too long before Deanna’s smile widened knowingly.
“Well, you make a good team,” she said before moving on, leaving them both standing there in the midst of the party.
You felt a strange mix of emotions swirl inside you—embarrassment, confusion, and something else you couldn’t quite name. You glanced at Daryl, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Before you could say anything, Spencer appeared, smiling that easy, charming smile of his as he greeted you. Daryl tensed immediately, his eyes narrowing as Spencer completely ignored his presence and focused all his attention on you, like everyone at this party had done.
“Glad to see you’re fitting in,” Spencer said, his tone just a little too smooth. He leaned in slightly, his body language relaxed but… suggestive. You noticed it, but tried to push the thought aside, assuming you were reading too much into it.
You both made small talk for a few minutes, Spencer doing most of the talking while you nodded politely, trying not to let your discomfort show. Daryl, on the other hand, could see right through Spencer’s act. He recognized the way Spencer’s eyes lingered a little too long, the way his smile was just a little too practiced.
His jaw tightened as he watched Spencer flirt with you right in front of him. It wasn’t that he thought you were his—but the way Spencer looked at you, like you were a conquest, made him feel frustrated, made him feel emotions he’s never felt for anyone before, feelings he didn’t think he was capable of feeling.
“I’m gon’ get a drink.” Daryl muttered under his breath, though he had no intention of actually getting one. Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed for the door, needing to get away before he did something stupid. You barely noticed as he walked away, too caught up in Spencer’s conversation. It wasn’t until Spencer asked, “So, do you have a boyfriend?” that your mind shifted to Daryl.
You paused, your heart skipping a beat as you thought about your feelings for Daryl. You weren’t together, but you couldn’t deny that your heart had long since gravitated toward him.
“No,” you finally answered, voice quiet.
Spencer’s smile widened, and before you could say anything else, he asked, “Then how about we go out sometime?” The question caught you off guard, but you recovered quickly, offering him a polite smile as you shook your head. “I’m not really interested, I’m sorry.” You couldn’t really handle the awkwardness of the conversation, so you began to walk away, but Spencer wasn’t one to take no for an answer. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist a little too tightly, his smile fading into something harder. “Come on,” he said, his tone insistent. “It’s just a date.”
You tensed immediately, your eyes narrowing as you tried to pull your wrist free. “Let go,” you said firmly, your voice was low enough that no one else at the party noticed.
For a moment, Spencer hesitated, his grip tightening. But then he seemed to remember where they were—surrounded by both Alexandrians and people
of Rick’s group—and he released you, his expression shifting back into a smooth, apologetic smile.
“Sorry about that,” he said quickly, but the red mark on your wrist told a different story.
Without another word, you turned and walked away, heading toward the table with the drinks to look for Daryl. But when you got there, he was nowhere to be found. What you did see, though, was Spencer already chatting up Sasha, his flirtatious smile back in full force.
You sighed, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over you. The night wasn’t turning out the way you had hoped. You wanted to enjoy it, to maybe have a quiet moment with Daryl, but instead, it felt like everything was falling apart.
Needing some air, you stepped outside, the cool night breeze brushing against your skin. It didn’t take long to spot Daryl, leaning against a nearby fence, a cigarette between his lips as he stared out into the darkness.
You approached him slowly, your heart still racing from the interaction with Spencer. As you got closer, Daryl’s eyes shifted to you, and the moment he saw the red mark on your wrist, his entire demeanor changed.
“Wha’ happened?” he asked, his voice rough but laced with concern.
You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, but you knew there was no point in lying to him. “Spencer grabbed me when I tried to leave,” you really didn’t want to already start problems. “It’s fine. He let go.”
Daryl’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching as he tossed the cigarette to the ground, already turning to head back toward the house. “I’m gon’ kill ‘im.”
“Daryl, wait,” quickly, you stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “It’s fine. I just… I want to spend the night with you. Not dealing with that. Please.”
He stopped, his fists still clenched, his eyes blazing with barely contained anger. But something about the way you said it—the way you asked him to stay with you—made him pause. He looked down at you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm the storm inside him.
“If he gets near ya again, I swear…”
You smiled softly, touched by his protectiveness. “I know. But you don’t have to worry. I’ve got you—and the rest of the group—watching out for me. I’m fine.”
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground as he struggled with the emotions swirling inside him. He wanted to protect you, wanted to make sure no one ever laid a hand on you, but there was something else gnawing at him—something he didn’t quite know how to deal with.
Jealousy.
He didn’t think he had a right to feel it, but it was there, a bitter taste in his mouth. Spencer was younger, cleaner, probably the kind of guy you deserved. And him? He was older, rough around the edges, scarred in more ways than one.
He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, you spoke again, voice steady. “Daryl… you don’t have to worry about Spencer or anyone else. My heart… it already belongs to you.”
For a moment, Daryl froze, his mind going blank as your words sank in. He looked down at you, his eyes wide with disbelief. You couldn’t be serious. There was no way someone like you—someone strong, kind, beautiful—could feel that way about him.
A defensive scoff escaped his lips as he shook his head while giving your shoulder a playful nudge.
Your smile faltered, and you felt the sting of his actions deep in your chest. You’d laid your heart bare, and he’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But you didn’t let the hurt show. Instead, you forced a small laugh, playing it off like it was a joke.
But inside, your heart was breaking.
Without another word, you turned and began walking back in the direction toward your shared home with the others, your chest tight with the weight of his rejection. You felt like you had taken a leap, only to be pushed away, and now all you wanted to do was disappear.
Daryl watched you go as he lit another cigarette, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t untangle. His jealously, his feelings for you, things he’d never discuss out loud.
After arriving, you realized you were alone in the house. Everyone was still at the party and the silence was too deafening, leaving you unable to shake the pit in your stomach. The night stretched on endlessly as you rested on the worn-out couch, staring at the ceiling, the events of what happened playing on a loop in your mind.
Rejection. The taste of it still burned in your chest. You had put your heart on the line, and Daryl didn’t seem to notice. It had felt like a punch to the gut, leaving you winded and second-guessing everything. He hadn’t even said anything real—just brushed it off like you were joking, and now, the quiet gnawed at you, making you feel smaller by the minute. Maybe he didn’t feel the same, and that thought consumed you throughout the night.
The next day passed in a blur. You barely caught a glimpse of Daryl, knowing he was out with Aaron, who had given him a new job as a recruiting partner after he had invited him over for dinner. Every step he took away from you felt like another brick in the wall that was forming between you two. You wrestled with your feelings, considering maybe it was time to let loose.
And maybe it was time to open your options with someone else.
That afternoon, while you sat on the porch, a warm breeze brushing against your skin, Spencer appeared, looking sheepish. “Hey, about yesterday...” His voice was shaky, unsure. He shifted on his feet, his gaze darting to the ground before he finally met your eyes. “I’m really sorry for grabbing your wrist like that. I had too much to drink and I was way out of line.”
You remembered the incident from the party—the way he had grabbed you, too rough, too desperate. But now, seeing the guilt in his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pity.
“It’s fine,” you forced a small smile. “You were buzzed. I totally get it.”
Relief washed over his face, and he grinned, more confident now. “So... what about that date?”
You hesitated for a moment, your heart still aching for someone else, but the thought of moving on, of trying to distract yourself from the pain, seemed tempting. Maybe you could use Spencer to forget Daryl. “Sure,” you replied, surprising yourself with the ease in your voice.
The date was... fine. That was the best word to describe it. Spencer talked a lot about himself—his job before the fall, his family, the world he missed. He asked you questions too, seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, but as much as you tried, you couldn’t really care. His words barely made a dent in your thoughts, because they were always somewhere else—on Daryl.
But Spencer, oblivious to your disinterest, seemed to think it was a success. He walked you home afterward, his arm brushing yours every now and then. You found yourself laughing at some of the things he said, more out of politeness than anything else, but for a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.
As you approached the front porch, you failed to notice Daryl.
He stood there, not far from the house, just returning from his run with Aaron. He froze, his eyes locked on you and Spencer, his face hardening into something unreadable. Daryl just watched, hands clenched at his sides with his jaw tight.
By the time you reached the porch, you felt tired in more ways than one. As Spencer gave you a final, confident smirk, promising to see you again soon, he finally left. You were lost in thought. The silence wrapped around you, and for a while, you almost forgot about the strange encounter—until you spotted Daryl walking right towards you.
“Hey, Dary—”
Before you could finish, Daryl’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to pull you toward him. His face was a storm of anger, jealousy, and something else you couldn’t quite place. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, like he was barely keeping it together. He dragged you into the house, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the frame. “The hell ya doin’ with tha’ asshole?” he spat, his voice low and accent thick, filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean? We were just talking.”
Daryl scoffed, pacing like a caged animal. “Talkin’? That son’of a bitch touched ya, now yer walkin’ ‘round with him like it didn’t mean nothin’.”
You crossed your arms, defensiveness rising in your chest. “He apologized. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
His eyes flashed, and you could see the fury bubbling just beneath the surface. “Not a big deal? He hurt ya!” His voice was louder now, frustration pouring out of him.
And then it hit you—why he was acting this way. Was he... jealous? The realization made your blood boil. After he brushed you off, now he wanted to care? Now he wanted to feel something?
You snapped, your voice laced with anger. “So what? It wasn’t nearly as bad as you hurt me! So stop acting like we’re together when you clearly don’t care!”
Your words hung in the air, cutting through him like a knife. You watched as Daryl’s expression shifted from anger to confusion. “What?” His voice was quieter now, unsure.
Your heart clenched, the weight of everything you’d been holding in finally crashing down on you. “Last night,” you began, your voice was softer now, but still trembling with emotion. “When I told you my heart belonged to you... you acted like it was a joke.”
His breath caught in his throat. He remembered. The way he had shrugged it off, laughed it away, thinking you were just messing around. He had never thought, not in a million years, that you could feel that way about him. A girl like you? Loving a guy like him? It was laughable.
But now, seeing the pain in your eyes, it wasn’t funny at all.
“I... I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice thick with regret. “Thought ya were just messin’ ‘round.” He trailed off, unable to find the right words.
You sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away as you took in the sight of him—this man who had built up walls so high, he couldn’t even see when someone was trying to climb them. “Why would I joke about something like that, Daryl?” you asked, almost pleading. Maybe he was used to Carol’s humor, or maybe he didn’t think he deserved you.
He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Dunno,” he muttered. “Didn’t think redneck trash would be worth yer time.”
His words hit you harder than you expected. The way he saw himself, the way he spoke of himself—it hurt. But in this moment, the vulnerability in his voice, the way he couldn’t even look at you... it was endearing.
“Daryl...” you called softly, stepping closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You reached out, gently placing your index finger and your thumb under his chin, tilting his face up until his eyes met yours. The closeness between you made the air crackle with anticipation.
His eyes flickered between your gaze and your lips, nervous, unsure. He bit the inside of his lip, fidgeting with his fingers, and you knew—he was waiting for your next move.
With a steady breath, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, it deepened. When you finally pulled away, you stayed close, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “Of course you’re worth my time.”
Daryl’s eyes were wide, his breath shallow. For a long moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to convince himself that this was real. Then, in a quiet manner, he cleared his throat. “I love ya.” The words left his mouth in a very subtle whisper as you felt his breath against your lips.
Your heart stopped, the world seeming to freeze for just a second. He... loved you?
“I love you too, Daryl,” you whispered back, smiling before leaning in to kiss him again.
After a long, tender moment, you pulled back, and Daryl glanced away, embarrassed. “Ya still gon’ hang out with tha’ guy?” he asked, his voice gruff but his tone soft.
You laughed, completely forgetting about Spencer. “No,” you cupped Daryl’s cheek gently, making him revert his gaze back to you. “I have you. That’s all I need.”
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@vampiresluv
94 notes · View notes
wxxpingangxls · 17 hours
Text
WET
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+synopsis; the hottest criminal solicitor is in town and she’s ready to fight tooth and nail to prove her new clients innocence. I wonder how he’ll thank her…
+content/warnings; black reader but little to no explicit detail, taboo relationships, stalking, peeping tom, death threats, begging, mentions of murder, graphic details, angst, cheating, reader smokes, semi public, oil massage, nasty and messy sex, squirting, brief toe sucking, running from him, pussy drunk Toji, mr munch, ass eating, Toji is grown and got stubble, face sitting, 69, mating press, doggy style, overstimulation
+pairings; Felon Toji x Lawyer!Fem Black Reader
+a/n; ending is rushed idk why 😞😞 but i hope you enjoy lovely’s!!!🩷
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“So, Mr Fushi… Uh, so what exactly are we here to discuss today?” you stated, papers on the table and pen in your hand ready to note down.
He raised an eyebrow as his eyes wandered down to the bright diamond ring blinking at him on your finger. You were used to this behaviour. Felons and criminals acting cold and calloused as if you weren’t the one thing between them and their freedom.
“Look, I don’t want to be here either. But we have got to work together. There’s no point in you sitting on your arse, acting as if I don’t have better places to be. I could be on a trip to Barbados right now but I’m stuck here saving your arse-“
“You done?” he interrupted slyly.
“No, I’m not done. You’re wasting everybody’s time. It’s not my fault you decided to kill that guy at the bar. The court appointed me as your attorney and so I’m going to try my best to help you win this case but I can only do so much.” you huffed at the end of the long speech watching his eyes close in annoyance.
“Look lady, I’ve got a child to go back home to, I don’t have time for this. Can you get my case dismissed or not?”
“I was getting to that,” you stated with venom laced on your tongue. “We can always claim self defence. Given your history there’s not much else,” The question of whether he had a mental illness crossed your mind but quite frankly, you weren’t in the mood to converse with this fiend any longer.
“That’s a pretty ring ya got there… You married?” he questioned. His cuffed hands were lying in his lap. This man had stressed you so damn much that you hadn’t realised how, handsome, he was. Despite the ugly and completely unflattering appearance of the orange jumpsuit, you could see the tattoos that encapsulated his large biceps, big enough to crush your skull with. The man you were defending - or rather attempting to - had the meanest mug written all over his face. But you were a woman before you were a lawyer, and your heart was with another.
“Not yet, I’m engaged,” you huffed.
Toji scoffed before turning to face the large mirror. “Is that all Mr Fushiguro? If so, I’ll be on my way,” and without another word, you swiftly left the room, closing the door on the way out. The correctional officer walked out towards you. “Did he tell ya what ‘appened? Ya know with the guy?” You eyed the officer down, observing his hands that were stationed on his belt. “Exuse me? I’m not entitled to disclose that information,” you rolled your eyes as the click clacking of your heels echoed across the hallway.
“Hi baby, how was your day?” your fiancé kissed your temple as you looked down at the plate of food in front of you.
“It was okay,” you shrugged indifferently.
Your fiancé was the executive marketer of a large company. “I’m sorry to here that, I’ll be upstairs if you need me,”
You didn’t say a word as he walked away. In spite of the disturbing scene unfolding in front of your eyes on the TV whilst watching “The Perfection”, you couldn’t help but wonder how Mr Fushiguro was going. Sure he had a nasty mouth and the patience of a toothpick but there was something so intriguing about him. Maybe it’s because you were tired of you boring and plain life. You’ve always been like that.
It wasn’t anything new for you to leave something that was perfectly good to something subpar purely out of boredom and this was no exception.
The next few weeks consisted of you mostly signing papers, talking with your client, viewing crime scene photos and talking to detectives on the case.
The old Bailey loomed large and imposing, its grandeur echoing centuries of justice. Inside, the air was thick with anticipation and tension. You were a sharp and tenacious criminal lawyer, and this was no new information as you adjusted your barrister's wig, your eyes scanning the courtroom. Your reputation for winning impossible cases was well-earned, and today, your skills would be put to the test.
Toji Fushiguro, your client, sat at the defendant’s table. His presence was both magnetic and menacing, a dangerous mix that had everyone on edge. Accused of a brutal murder, his piercing green eyes betrayed no emotion as he watched the proceedings unfold.
Your first meeting had been fraught with silent judgments and unspoken words. You had read his file meticulously, aware of the gravity of the crime he was accused of. A single father found dead in at the bar, after a fight had broke out, all evidence pointing towards Toji. Yet, something about the case felt off to you, an instinct you couldn’t ignore.
You spent countless hours pouring over the evidence, every piece scrutinized under your critical gaze. Late nights at the office became routine, the flickering desk lamp being your only companion. Toji's file lay open before you, his eyes in the mugshot staring back with a challenge and scar in menacing smirk.
The interviews were intense. Toji, ever the enigma, offered little help. His answers were curt, often cloaked in sarcasm. But there was something beneath the surface, a flicker of vulnerability that intrigued you.
A ghost of a smile played on Toji’s lips. “You’re different from the others. They’ve all looked at me like I’m already convicted.”
"So? Why would you think I'm different? Let’s not forget why I’m here,” you stated.
Days turned into weeks, and your professional relationship took on a different hue. There was a dangerous allure in Toji’s defiance, a charisma that drew you in despite your better judgment. You guys would often find yourselves locked in heated debates, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day in court, you found yourself in a dimly lit pub, nursing a bourbon. The door creaked open, and Toji walked in, flanked by the ever-present guards. Their eyes met across the room, a silent understanding passing between them.
“What the hell are you doing here, Fushiguro?,” you said as he approached the table, your voice low.
“I needed a drink,” Toji shrugged, sitting opposite you. The guards stood discreetly nearby, giving them a semblance of privacy.
You arched an eyebrow. “Well then, get your damn drink and leave me be?”
Toji leaned forward, his eyes darkening. “I think you’re the only person who sees me as more than just a murderer.”
“Oh please, that’s my job as a defendant. You’re onto nothing,”
Your heart pounded in your chest. The line between right and wrong blurred, your connection undeniable and perilous. you knew you were treading dangerous waters, but something about Toji made it impossible to walk away.
As the trial progressed, your determination to uncover the truth deepened. You successfully discovered inconsistencies in the evidence, hidden motives that pointed towards another suspect. Each revelation brought you closer, your late-night strategy sessions charged with a mix of frustration and undeniable chemistry.
The day of the verdict arrived, tension palpable in the courtroom. You stood tall, closing arguments a masterclass in legal brilliance. You had laid out the evidence meticulously, casting doubt on the prosecution’s case.
As the jury filed back in, the room held its breath. The foreman stood, the verdict hanging in the balance.
“Not guilty.”
The words echoed, a collective sigh of relief from your team. Toji turned to you, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper in his eyes. You couldn’t show your true feelings, not here, not now. But the promise of something more lingered between the energy in the air.
As the two of you continued to stare, a bright blinding bling brought his attention back to the engagement right adorning your right finger.
A few weeks after the trial, life starts to return to normal. Your fiancé working hard to make you happy, however your client still plagued your mind.
Your routine became his script. He knew when you left for work, the route you took, where you got your morning coffee. You would catch glimpses of him sometimes—at least you think you do—a flash of his face in a crowd, the shape of his shoulders disappearing around a corner.
One evening, as you leave your office, you feel it again—that sensation of being watched. You quickened your pace, glancing over your shoulder, but the street is empty. You told yourself it’s just your imagination, but the fear lingers.
Toji followed at a distance, his footsteps silent. He knows how to blend into the shadows, how to remain unseen. Every time you turn around, he steps just out of sight, watching you with a predatory intensity. His mind races with thoughts of you, dark fantasies that he can't shake.
Despite the ever growing suspicion of a potential stalker, you decide to treat yourself to a massage at your favorite spa, hoping to find some peace. The soft music and dim lighting work their magic as you settle onto the table, your mind beginning to unwind. An all too familiar and soft female voice tickles your ear, “Hey honey, just give me five and I’ll be back to give you the massage of your life,”
“Hurry Tina, my back hurts,”
A few moments pass before the masseur enters. You hear the door close softly and the click of bottles being opened. Hands begin to work on your tense muscles, and you let out a sigh of relief. The touch is skilled, firm yet gentle, but there is something vaguely unfamiliar about it.
A whisper brushes against your ear. “Did you miss me?”
Your eyes snap open in shock. Toji’s voice is unmistakable. Your heart races as you realize the hands on your body belong to him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, trying to keep your voice steady.
Toji’s hands continue their work, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “I needed to see you. To feel you.”
“What the fuck does that even mean, you bastard? I thought you had a kid to go home to. Instead you’re here feeling me up. Have you no shame?” you whisper, torn between fear and a forbidden thrill.
“I know,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your ear. “But I can’t stay away from you. You’re in my blood, Y/N.”
“Bullshit, you bum,” you spit.
His words are intoxicating, and you find yourself caught in a web of desire and danger. Every stroke of his hands ignites a fire within you, a fire you thought you had extinguished.
You know this is wrong, that you should stop him, but your body betrays you, melting under his touch. The line between right and wrong, sanity and madness, blurs once more.
As Toji’s hands explore your body, you realize that you are no longer just in the shadow of doubt. You are in the shadow of obsession, and there is no turning back. Your mean words did nothing but further push him to make you his.
“If you want me to stop, you know the word,” he carefully caresses the skin of your lower back. You weighed out your options. You were going to be married soon, if you were going to live life you’d might as well do it now before it was too late.
You hummed in acknowledgment, before finally agreeing to his lingering touches. It was going to be a one time thing after all. He gently flipped you over so that you were lying on your back. “Just so you know, Toji, this is a one time thing. After all I’m engaged.” he ignored you as he grabbed your thighs so that they were touching your chest.
He watched as your cunt leaked out before he’d even touch you. His hands weren’t even that good. He figured it must’ve been a long while since you’ve been dicked down good.
He wasted no time before sucking on your bud, your moans being loudly ripped from your chest. “Fuck!” you knew it’d been a while since he’d had some pussy, but damn it couldn’t have been that long. He groaned out from your sweet taste. “My God, I didn’t think you’d taste this good…” he whined out.
He spat on your clit making sure his saliva ran down to your puckered hole, ultimately making a mess out of you. “Oh yes!” you moaned out before cupping your mouth. You had momentarily forgotten you were in public, but the shame of being too loud quickly left your soul as Toji continued to suck on your pussy.
His tongue entered your tight hole, expanding the tight rim. “You ever had your ass ate before?”
“Excuse me?” you sat up utterly shocked.
“N…No? What kind of question is that?”
“Huh…No wonder you’re such a tight ass…Literally…” he scoffed.
He continued his ministrations on your sweet cunt. “If we had some privacy I’d eat your ass out so good,”
You couldn’t even keep your legs up anymore, your orgasm was coming closer. Toji knew this well and started sucking and pulling on your clit. Your face scrunched up in pure bliss. Bliss you hadn’t felt in ages. “Mphm! Toji!”
“Yeah, that’s what I like to hear.” he groaned out in the response.
“Right there Toji! M’ so close!”
A harsh knock interrupted his actions as your abruptly sat up. “Y/N? Oh my Goodness? Are you ok?” Tina asked from the other-side of the door. She shook the door handle multiple times before banging on the door again. “Did you lock the door? Open it please!”
“Did you seriously lock the damn door?” you knocked the upside of Toji’s head.
“I wanted us to have some privacy,” he shrugged indifferently.
You rolled your eyes before groaning, “Hello? Who are you talking to because I know it’s not me,” Tina huffed out annoyed.
“No one, give me a minute I’m coming.” You ushered Toji out to hide behind the cupboard door. The plan was when Tina wasn’t looking, you’d have Toji sneak out then back to the front door. From the minute you met your client you count tell he was a fool. Did you think he was that much of a fool? No. No one could’ve predicted this amount of foolishness. You silently scolded the man as he stood behind the door, waiting for the right moment to sneak out.
One night, after a long bath, you slipped into your favorite silk bathrobe, its softness a comforting embrace. The moonlight filtered through the curtains as you stood by your bedroom window, looking out into the night, wine glass in hand. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but your mind was far away, consumed by thoughts of Toji.
Unbeknownst to you, Toji was there, hidden in the shadows outside your window. His eyes were locked on you, a hunger burning within them. He watched the way the silk clings to your body, every movement a tantalizing tease.
You sighed, running a hand through your damp hair, oblivious to his presence. Toji’s heart raced as he imagined what it would be like to touch you again, to feel your warmth against him. The memory of your pussy haunts him, a forbidden pleasure that he craves more than anything.
He knew this was wrong, that he should stay away, but the pull is irresistible. You were in his blood, an obsession that consumed him. His eyes traced the curve of your neck, the way your robe parts slightly, revealing a glimpse of the cleavage beneath.
Inside, you closed your eyes, lost in thought. Your fiancé was a good man, but he didn’t ignite the same fire in you that Toji does. You tried to push the thoughts away, but they keep returning, relentless and unforgiving.
Toji’s breath hitched as you loosened the belt of your robe, letting it fall open slightly. He gripped the windowsill, fighting the urge to break in, to take what he so desperately desires. His mind raced with dark fantasies, each one more intoxicating than the last.
You stepped away from the window, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. Toji watched every movement, his body tense with longing. He knew he should leave, but he couldn’t tear himself away. You were his obsession, a forbidden fruit that he was determined to possess.
As you disappeared from view, Toji lingered a moment longer, the image of you burned into his mind. He will find a way to have you, to make you his. In the shadow of obsession, he waits, his desire growing stronger with each passing night.
Your ever growing need for Toji’s mysteriousness pulled you further into a dark pit you knew it’ll be hard to get out of. And if your fiancé was to find out, you’d surely be casted away as a harlot. You had to choose between your pussy and your head, and you had to choose wisely. Will you do the right thing and stay true to your fiance, rejecting Toji’s advances and promises to eat you out so good or will you go behind your husband to be’s back and sleep with the same murderer you helped avoid jail time?
For a minute, one might’ve compared your mental turmoil to that of Hamlets distain and hesitation upon hearing that his father was killed and now he was set to avenge him by killing his uncle but these were two very different situations.
But alas, you believed that you could have many men in your head but as long as you had your true love in your heart then you’re a loyal woman.
That’s exactly how you found yourself with your mouth full of his thick and slimy cock whilst smothering his face with your cunt. Sucks and slurps filled the room as the two of you got on with such harshness of enemies. The gargling of his dick filled the room while he moved his head back momentarily to watch as you clenched on his fingers, holes begging to be filled. He smirked as a glimmer of an idea flicked in his eyes, as they peered up to your winking hole.
His tounge slowly lols out before giving the tight hole a small lick. He let out a boisterous laugh as he watched you shudder and mumble to no avail. His deft fingers moved to your clit as he found a rhythm for his tongue to moaned against your puckered hole. You grind your pussy against his face, moans muffled by his thick cock.
Your clit throbbed as his fingers moved faster, never loosing their grip and his tongue keeping its rhythm. You groaned loudly and clearly this time, his dick was now limp and his cum was scattered all over his thighs and your mouth. You squealed out his name and his onslaught on your slick pussy only got more overwhelming for you and you had no where to move.
Your back arched from the overstimulation and your hands clenched at the pleasure he was feeding you. What you had done to deserve such a treat, you had no idea, but you weren’t complaining. Toji’s hands came down on your cheeks, rubbing and massaging the muscle as he did.
Tears welled up in your eyes and your belly tightened and without a word, he knew you were about to cum. He quickly swapped his tongue and hands, sliding a finger into your asshole and placing his lips around your sweet clit. The spiky stubble of his hair added to your stimulation , adding to your pleasure.
There was no holding back with Toji . He was here to show you how to feel good. “Move,” without warning he turned his head to the side, tapping your arse twice. You blinked your confusion away as his hands guided you so that he was looming over you. You couldn’t say a single thing before you felt that familiar burning of his girth stretching you out. Drool seeped from your mouth as he reached deeper.
“Ah ha ha. Feels good, doesn’t it baby?” he boasted.
Nothing but babbles left your mouth as he gently lulled you to silence. With a firm grip on your hand, and his duck fully sheathed into your deep pussy, he began his rough thrust. Fap. Fap. Fap. Fast paced thrusting in and out, knocking the wind from you. He had rendered you completely speechless which was almost impossible given the type of person you were.
“Lights are on but no one’s home…” he chuckled to himself as he continued to slip in and out.
You whined and squealed as you felt his curved dick rub against your g-spot. It was far too much for you, your cheeks were hot and throbbing, lips bitten and bruised and your throat dry and sore. Tears flew from your eyes and his fast thrusting never faulted but instead intensified as he realised where he was hitting.
“I know you didn’t try to fucking run from me,” he comments sternly. For a second you feel yourself go numb. All you needed was a moment to collect yourself. It was far too much is what you tried telling him, begging for a semblance of a break.
“You ever try that shit on me again, I’ll tie you up,” He flips you over with a firm grip on your hip, pushing your legs up your ears. “Toji? Toji!” you whine in estxasy and his dick reach’s deep. “Wait! Toji, Please!”
“Please what, girl?”
You opened your mouth to speak , but before you could, he started moving again, impaling you on the hefty limb. He watched as your expressions contorted from bliss to shock, upon feeling a wet and slimy tongue between your toes. This man was nasty, downright sick, and you loved every second of it.
A fat thumb lingered down to the small bud, before rubbing vigorously, He watched as your moaning became high pitched and your hips bucked. Your stomach sucked itself in as you tried escaping his grasp, squirming in his nearly painful grips. “Oh my- Toji, Wait! I’m going to to-!”
Your loud plea was interrupted by an obscene squelch and a splashing ad a stream of juices left your sore cunt and aimed right for the mans chest. He jeers as he saw your o-face falling inlove even further. It didn’t take a while for him to pump you full of his thick hot cum, and it certainly didn’t take long for your fiance to get the picture Toji sent of him eating your used up and stuffed cunt out.
It also didn’t take long for Toji to send a video of him stuffing you again in full nelson this time, making you hold the phone.
It also didn’t take long for Toji to get in trouble again with the law. You too hadn’t seen each other since that eventful night and he couldn’t help but be grateful, for if you knew just how nasty he was, you would’ve killed him yourself and he wouldn’t blame you.
After the whole debacle was dealt with, he found himself yet again being arrested, and on the other side of the conjugal line was you. Sitting prettily in your work attire, brand new engagement ring sitting on your finger as you discussed his charges. “I miss you Y/N” he’d say. “I wonder what you’re up to these days,” he’d enquire, knowing full well, if he was free he wouldn’t have to.
And whether Toji turned himself in on purpose after everything he’s done just to see your bright face again, or whether it was a pure coincidence that he’d just so happened to be arrested for something he had gotten away with for so long, you had no idea.
All you knew is that you regretted that night.
Well, not entirely.
71 notes · View notes
hoe4hotchner · 21 hours
Note
Hi! Congrats on 3k love! So well deserved.
Stressor with Professor!Aaron Hotchner who have to deal with one of his students (she/her!Reader) which is a complete brat during his classes 🫣 ❤️
Thank you!!! ❤️
The art of provoking | [A.H]
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Pairing: Professor!Hotch x fem!Reader CW: Smut, MDNI, 18+, power play, age gap (consenting adults), Hotch is the king of consent, also the minister of making sure you're okay, bratty behaviour, teasing, piv, student/professor relationship, authority. WC: 4.5k
Summary: Professor Hotchner navigates the challenges of a bratty student who tests his patience while concealing a deeper desire beneath their banter.
I'm sweating, i'm panting, my nose is suddenly not stuffed anymore!!!! I'm laughing uncomfortably in a good way. I went so overboard with this one that the only thing i can say is bon appétit, enjoy this very delicious meal i'm serving for you.
Join my Profiling 101 - 3k follower celebration here
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           The lecture hall was quiet as Professor Hotchner stood at the front, his voice steady as he explained the finer points of criminal law. His presence was commanding, as always, and his students hung on to his every word - well, almost all of them.
           You sat near the back, arms crossed, your notebook untouched before you, except for the occasional bored doodles. You hadn’t written a single word, and the look of disinterest on your face hadn’t gone unnoticed. You always found a way to test him, whether arriving late to class, challenging his points with sarcastic remarks, or simply tuning out altogether.
           It wasn’t that you didn’t understand the material - you were one of his brightest students, in fact, you somehow managed to ace every single test despite your lack of attention in class - but you enjoyed pushing his buttons. There was something about the way his jaw clenched when you interrupted him, or the way his eyes would narrow whenever you challenged him. You liked getting a rise out of him, watching his usual exterior crack, even if only for a moment.
           Today was no different. As Professor Hotchner continued his lecture, you slowly raised your hand, an amused smile playing on your lips.
           “Yes?” he asked, pausing mid-sentence, his eyes locking on yours with that same unreadable expression.
           You leaned back in your chair, feigning innocence. “I was just wondering, Professor,” you began, your tone laced with mockery, “how much of what you’re saying actually applies in real-world scenarios? Or is this just another theoretical debate you like to have in your ivory tower up there?”
           The room went silent. A few of your classmates exchanged glances, but no one dared to laugh. They knew better than to cross Professor Hotchner, but you? You thrived on it.
           His jaw clenched slightly, but his expression remained calm. He stepped away from the podium, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded you with a cold stare.
           “Care to elaborate on that thought?” he asked, his voice dangerously smooth.
           You shrugged, sitting up a little straighter. “I just think maybe we should focus more on what actually happens out there,” you said, gesturing vaguely, “rather than talking about hypotheticals all the time.”
           Professor Hotchner nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “So you believe this class lacks practical application?”
           “Maybe just a little,” you replied, biting back a smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing.
           There was a brief silence, the tension thick in the room as he considered your words. Finally, he took a slow breath and walked toward the edge of the stage, his hands resting on the edge of the desk next to him.
           “Let me clarify something for you,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Everything I teach in this class is rooted in real-world cases - cases I’ve worked on personally. If you’d been paying attention instead of trying to undermine every point I make, you’d understand that.”
           You felt a flicker of satisfaction at the sharpness in his tone. He was getting annoyed. Good.
           “Of course, Professor,” you replied, feigning contrition. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
           His eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might snap, might finally lose that calm, composed exterior he always wore. But instead, he straightened up, his gaze never leaving yours.
           “See me after class,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
           Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t expected that. Usually, he just brushed off your comments and moved on. But today… today was different. Something had shifted in the air, and the weight of it settled in the pit of your stomach.
           The rest of the lecture passed in a blur. You couldn’t focus, couldn’t even remember what he was talking about. All you could think about was what would happen after class. You’d pushed him too far this time, and now you were going to have to deal with the consequences.
           When the lecture finally ended, your classmates filtered out, casting curious glances in your direction. You stayed seated, watching as Professor gathered his papers at the front of the room. His movements were slow and deliberate, and it felt like he was taking his time just to make you wait.
           Eventually, the room was empty, and Professor Hotchner glanced up, his eyes meeting yours across the room.
           “Come here,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.
           You hesitated for a moment, then stood, walking down the aisle toward the front of the room. Your heart was racing now, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you neared him.
           He didn’t move as you approached, his eyes locked on yours, his expression unreadable. You stopped a few feet away, suddenly unsure of yourself, but you weren’t about to back down now.
           “Do you enjoy testing me?” he asked, his voice low and steady.
           You shrugged, playing it cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
           He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in an instant. He was towering over you, his presence even more intimidating than usual.
           “I think you do,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
           The air between you was thick with tension, and you could feel your pulse quicken as Professor Hotchner loomed above you, his eyes locked on yours. He was close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating from him, close enough to make you realize that you may have pushed him a little too far this time.
           His gaze was intense, scrutinizing as if he were trying to peel back the layers of your defiance to see what was really the root of it. You didn’t back down, though. You couldn’t - after all, this was the game you’d been playing for weeks, and retreating now would feel like defeat.
           “Testing you?” you repeated with a hint of mockery in your voice, though it wasn’t as sharp as before. “Maybe I just like seeing how much it takes to get under your skin.”
           His jaw tightened slightly at your words. He hadn’t expected you to admit to it, and certainly not with such brazen confidence. His eyes darkened, and his expression turned serious, a subtle shift that sent a thrill through you.
           “I think you enjoy this far more than you’re willing to admit,” he said slowly, his voice was calm. “You push and push, hoping to see where the line is. But what happens when you cross it?”
           Your breath hitched at the implication in his words, but you quickly recovered, masking your unease with a smirk. “I guess we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”
           Professor Hotchner's eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place - frustration? Amusement? It was hard to tell with him. He was always so controlled, so precise. Even now, standing this close, he hadn’t lost his composure.
           “You think you’re in control, don’t you?” His tone was quiet, almost too quiet, but there was an edge to it that made you shiver.
           You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, he took another step toward you, closing the distance between you entirely. His voice dropped lower, more intimate, as he leaned in just enough that only you could hear him.
           “You’re not,” he murmured. His breath ghosted against your ear, sending a shockwave of heat through you, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. “And it’s about time you realized that.”
           The challenge in his tone hit you hard, stirring something deep inside, but you refused to give in so easily. You weren’t going to back down, no matter how intense the tension had become.
           You tilted your chin up slightly, meeting his gaze head-on. “You sure about that, Professor?” you replied, your voice soft but laced with defiance. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like I’ve been getting exactly what I want.”
           His eyes flashed, getting darker, and for a brief moment, you wondered if you’d gone too far. He wasn’t just some professor to toy with - he was Aaron Hotchner, a man who commanded respect and had little patience for insolence who had climbed the ranks ever since he got his first position within the FBI. Yet, here you were, pushing him to the limit.
           But instead of snapping, his lips curled into a tight, almost predatory smile. “You think this is what you want? You’re playing a dangerous game.”
           His words hit you harder than you expected, the weight of them settling deep in your chest. You swallowed, suddenly feeling the anticipation between the two of you shift in a way that you couldn’t control, and the power dynamic you’d been clinging to started to slip through your fingers.
           Professor Hotchner took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours as he surveyed you, taking in your defiance, your composure - everything you’d used to mask what was really happening beneath the surface. The authority he commanded in the classroom extended here, too, as if there was no escape from the weight of it.
           “I think it’s time you understood something,” Hotch said, his voice low but firm. “You can’t keep walking into my class acting like you can undermine me and expect no consequences. If you think this is all just a game to push boundaries, you’re wrong.”
           You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in. There was no denying the power he held in this moment, and for the first time, you weren’t sure if you were in control of what was happening between the two of you. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.
           “Do you have anything to say?” His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable authority behind it that made it clear he wasn’t going to tolerate any more of your defiance.
           Your pulse raced as you searched for a response, but the smirk you usually relied on had faded. He watched you closely, waiting for you to either respond or break under the pressure, but you held his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
           After a long, tense silence, you finally managed to speak, though your voice was softer than before. “And what if I don’t stop?”
           Professor Hotchner's gaze didn’t waver, but there was something different in his eyes now. Something darker, something that sent a thrill through you even as it made your stomach twist. His expression remained unreadable, his tone firm but quieter than before as he replied:
           “Then we’re going to have a problem. One that you’re not prepared to handle.”
           His words hung in the air, and for the first time, the reality of what you’d been toying with began to sink in. You’d pushed him far enough to break through the facade he kept up with the rest of the class, but in doing so, you had unleashed something far more vicious than you’d expected.
           And now, you had to decide if you were going to keep playing this game - or back down.
           He took a step closer again, his presence overwhelming as he looked down at you. His voice was calm, but the edge of authority was unmistakable.
           “Because if you don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, “I’ll make sure you do.”
           Your breath caught in your throat, your mind racing as the full weight of the power play between the two of you settled in. The tension crackled in the air, and it was clear that whatever happened next was entirely up to you.
           You had crossed that line - now the question was whether you’d be able to handle what came next.
           The air in the room felt suffocating, it was thick with unspoken words and the electric pull between you. Professor Hotchner's eyes bore into yours, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze as he stepped even closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sense of control you’d been clinging to slipping further away with each passing second.
           Without warning, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist firmly but not painfully, pulling you forward. Before you could react, he backed you up against his desk, the hard surface pressing against the small of your back. His grip was commanding, as though this was the moment he'd been waiting for.
           “Enough is enough,” he muttered, his voice a low growl, his breath hot against your skin.
           The words barely had time to register before his free hand came to your waist, pushing you back onto the desk in one swift motion. You gasped, your other hand instinctively reaching out to brace yourself on the edge as he towered over you, his presence was overwhelming. Your heart raced, but you weren’t afraid - if anything, the surge of adrenaline coursing through you made everything feel sharper, more exhilarating.
           His hand tightened slightly on your waist as he leaned down, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. The weight of his charge pressed down on you, but instead of cowering, you met his gaze with equal fire. The challenge in your eyes hadn’t faded.
           And then, before you could say anything, his lips crashed against yours in a searing and desperate kiss.
           It wasn’t gentle - it was rough, a battle for dominance as his lips claimed yours with the intensity that had been building between the two of you for weeks now. The force of it sent a jolt through your body, your mind going blank as you were consumed by the sensation. You tried to pull back, to push him away, but the second your hands came to his chest, something shifted.
           Instead of shoving him off, you pulled him closer.
           Your hands fisted in his shirt, yanking him down as you kissed him back with equal ferocity. The tension between you exploded in that moment, your lips moving against his in a way that felt both angry and frantic, a clash of wills as neither of you was willing to back down. You felt his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you further against him as the kiss deepened.
           The sound of your own ragged breathing filled the air as you pushed yourself up from the desk, your body arching into his as you deepened the kiss, parting your lips slightly to let him in. You felt his hesitation for a split second before he gave in, his tongue sweeping into your mouth in a way that made your head spin.
           The intensity was overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as you kissed him harder, needing more. You felt his hands slide up your sides, gripping you tighter as he responded to the challenge, the kiss turning even more heated, more desperate.
           It was a power play in its rawest form, neither of you willing to give an inch, both of you consumed by the battle for control. The push and pull between you was intoxicating, and for the first time, you weren’t sure who was winning.
           Your lungs burned as you both finally broke apart for a split second, gasping for air. The room spun, your lips tingling from the force of his kiss, and you barely had time to process before Professor Hotchner moved. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly as he flipped you over, your stomach coming to rest against the wooden surface of his desk.
           The movement was swift, almost effortless, and you couldn’t suppress the surprised gasp that escaped your lips. Your hands flew out to brace yourself against the desk, your chest pressing against the smooth surface as the world tilted beneath you.
           Your legs hung over the edge, toes barely touching the floor, but before you could shift your position, you felt his hand on your lower back, firm, keeping you in place. The pressure of his palm was grounding, heavy with control as he leaned in close, his breath warm against the nape of your neck.
           You shivered, but it wasn’t from fear. The tension had reached a fever pitch, and you could feel it in every inch of your body.
           Without a word, he slid his hand down your thigh, only to pause halfway, gripping firmly before nudging your feet apart. His touch was assertive but not rough, guiding, commanding. You felt a flush of heat as your legs spread slightly, feet planted more firmly on the ground now, creating just enough space for him to step closer, his presence looming over you.
           Your breath hitched as you felt his hand press firmly against your lower back, keeping you pinned in place. Every nerve in your body was on edge, the authority in his touch overwhelming yet thrilling. His warmth was so close, suffocating in the best way, and when his voice came again, low and commanding, it sent a shiver down your spine.
           “Stay right there,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.
           Your lips parted, and the words slipped out before you could stop them, breathy and submissive. “Yes, sir.”
           For a moment, there was only silence, but you felt him stiffen behind you, his grip tightening just slightly. Then, he chuckled softly, a dark, mocking sound that sent a jolt of heat through you.
           “Oh, so you do know how to follow orders,” Hotch murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “And here I thought you were incapable of it.”
           His words dripped with sarcasm, and you clenched your fists against the desk, torn between the need to snap back at him and the overwhelming desire to submit. The way he mocked you, the condescension laced into every syllable, made your pulse race. He knew exactly what he was doing - pushing and prodding at the edges of your defiance, breaking you down piece by piece.
           His hands moved with a sharp precision, gripping the hem of your skirt as he flipped it up over your stomach in one swift motion. The cool air of the room hit the bare skin of your thighs, sending a jolt through your body as the fabric bunched around your waist, leaving you exposed to his gaze.
           He stood still for a moment, and you could feel his eyes on you, heavy and intense as if he were taking in every detail.
           “So quick to submit now,” he murmured, his voice dark and almost mocking again. “I wonder where all that attitude suddenly went.”
           His fingers grazed along the edge of your hips, teasingly light, and you had to fight the urge to arch back into his touch. Every movement was calculated, designed to remind you of who was in control now, and you knew he wasn’t about to let you forget it.
           Professor Hotchner's lips curved into a smirk as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at you," he whispered, his tone dripping with satisfaction. His fingers traced the edge of your panties, feeling the dampness that had gathered there.
           "You really are a brat, aren’t you?" he teased, his voice low and sultry. The way he pronounced each word made your heart race, a mix of embarrassment and excitement flooding your senses.
           His gaze lingered on you, taking in the flush that crept up your cheeks and the way you squirmed under his touch. "I didn’t expect you to get so worked up, but it seems you’re enjoying this a little too much," he continued, the smirk never leaving his lips.
           You could feel the heat radiating off your skin, the reality of the situation crashing over you. He had you right where he wanted you - vulnerable, exposed, and ready to follow his lead.
           Professor Hotchner's hand shot out, gripping a fistful of your hair as he pressed your body further into the desk. The sudden pull made you gasp, a rush of excitement coursing through you. He leaned over you, his weight settling against your back, creating a pressure that heightened the thrill of the moment.
           “You’ve been a real distraction in class,” he murmured his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. The way he held your hair firmly yet gently sent a mix of vulnerability and exhilaration through you, amplifying the tension in the air.
           With his body hovering above yours, you could feel the heat radiating from him, and it sent your heart racing. The cool surface of the desk contrasted sharply with the warmth of his presence, and you found it hard to focus on anything but him.
           “What are you going to do about it, Professor?” you challenged, your voice laced with desire.
           A smirk played on his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair, forcing you to arch your back slightly. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he replied, his voice thick with promise.
           He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, sending tingles throughout your body. “But first, you need to learn how to behave,” he whispered, the words igniting something deep within you.
           As Professor Hotchner pinned your body to the desk, his free hand snuck down to your waist, slowly maneuvering your panties down to your knees. You could feel him as he rubbed himself against your pussy. Jolts of excitement ran through your veins with each teasingly slow thrust.
           He couldn’t take it anymore. The tension had reached a boiling point, and he felt an overwhelming surge of desire pulse through him. He stepped back, allowing the space between you to grow, and a low growl escaped his lips, reverberating through the silence of the room as you tried to move, it was enough to keep you in your place.
           You felt the sudden shift. The sound of his belt unbuckling broke through the stillness, each metallic click sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t see him, but you could imagine the intense focus in his eyes, the way he held himself with an authority that both thrilled and terrified you.
           The soft hiss of his zipper being pulled down followed, and you felt your breath hitch, your heart racing as the anticipation built within you. You were acutely aware of the overwhelming silence surrounding you, punctuated only by the sound of your own heartbeat and the rustling of fabric.
           With every sound, your body responded, craving the connection you knew was coming, and the knowledge that he was just behind you, poised and powerful, left you utterly captivated, longing for what was to unfold.
           “Do you want this?” he murmured, his voice husky and laced with an edge of dominance that made your stomach flutter. It was both a question and a command, and the way he said it made your heart race even faster. The thrill of his control was intoxicating, sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
           You nodded instinctively, unable to form words, the desire bubbling just below the surface, threatening to overflow. The anticipation was a sweet torment, your body aching for his touch. The fluttering in your stomach intensified, the heat pooling deep within you, urging you to surrender completely.
           “Use your words,” he teased, a hint of amusement threading through his tone. “Tell me what you want.”
           The challenge in his voice ignited a spark of defiance within you, making you shiver in anticipation. You knew he wanted you to submit, to give in to the pleasure that hung in the air between you like an unbroken promise. It was both thrilling and terrifying, the power dynamic shifting and swirling around you like a tempest.
           “Please…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with longing. It felt like an admission of vulnerability, and yet the act of saying it sent a thrill through you, a reminder of the power in your own submission.
           “Good girl,” he replied, his voice low and velvety, sending another wave of heat coursing through you. The praise wrapped around you like a warm embrace, reinforcing the tension that filled the room.  "Will you behave?"
           "Yes sir, please I need it!" You begged.
           And with that he lined the tip of his cock with your soaking entrance, slowly pushing against it, filling you up with a shared moan resonating off the walls in the lecture hall. He set a slow pace as he rolled his hips against you, watching you squirm underneath him as you tried to push back against him to quicken the pace.
           It wasn't long before Hotch started thrusting into you harder and harder with each move of his hips. His thrusts were painstakingly harsh. You grabbed at the edge of his desk, whimpering with pleasure as jolts of pure bliss overtook you. You felt every part of your body respond to him.
           You felt as both of your releases washed over you, the warmth of his cum coating your walls as he filled you up.
           As the tension in the air began to dissipate, Professor Hotchner slowly pulled away, his breath still heavy against your skin. The room was filled with the remnants of what had just transpired, an electric pulse lingering between you both. He shifted his weight, allowing you to turn over, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the office.
           Your heart raced, still echoing with the thrill of the moment. There was a vulnerability that hung in the air, and despite the heat of passion, a sense of intimacy enveloped you. You caught your breath, letting the silence settle as you and Hotch shared an unspoken understanding, one that transcended the physicality of what had just happened.
           His gaze softened as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern. The authoritative demeanor was replaced by something more tender, a gentleness that surprised you.
           You nodded, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you came to your senses. There was a lingering shyness between you now, a recognition of the boundaries you had crossed together.
           His lips curled into a small, affectionate smile, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss that held promise and warmth. It was a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before, but it spoke volumes of the connection you shared.
           After pulling away, Professor Hotchner hesitated for a moment, his expression shifting to something more contemplative. “This can’t happen again in class,” he said, his tone serious but softened by the affection that lingered in his eyes. “It’s not professional.”
           You could only smile at his earnestness, knowing deep down that this was more than just a fleeting moment. “I know,” you replied, a playful glint in your eyes. “But maybe outside of class…”
           His laughter was deep and rich, filling the room with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “Maybe,” he mused, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “But we’ll have to navigate this carefully.”
           You both shared a knowing look, a blend of excitement and uncertainty swirling between you.
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Apology Boy
Description: Paul finally apologizes for the scar(s) he gave you when he saw you for the first time. 
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Pairing: Paul Lahote | Human mate!You.
Warning(s): Paul's anger, possible past angst, fluff, Paul is a crazed mess for you, size kink (duh), imprinting/mates, abo!verse but you're human, possessiveness, fingering, cunnilingus (worship), breeding kink, licking, biting, smut with plot because oh God I can never stop myself, teasing, pet names, unprotected p-in-v, overstimulation, manhandling, light dom!Paul because I am still me. MDNI.
Type: Request, for the sweet @wishyouloveme, here.
MASTERLIST
Just like any other day.
. . .
It hit Paul like a freight train and caused sweat to form in ice cold drops on his otherwise warm skin. He had just returned from patrol with Embry and was spread over Emily's dining table whilst stuffing his face with the food she had cooked for them. Everything was fine and dandy. It was a pleasant day and the weather was nice and cool. Soon, he would be done with his daily obligations and then he would go home.
But then Sam came up behind Emily who was standing next to her mate's seat at the head of the table, one hand on the frame and other on her hip as she listened to Seth drone on and on about something that Paul's voice refused to register due to what unfolded next.
The pack leader's strong arms snaked around the waist of his delicate lover as he nuzzled his nose into her hair until the tip had found its way past the dark strands and against her tender cheek until it was caressing and tracing the scars he had left on her. 
All blood drained from Paul's skin and something in his head clicked. His surroundings faded to a dim buzz and the next few moments went by in a blur. 
And then he was standing in front of home.
“Paul!” You yelp in surprise at the sight of your nude lover. He usually dresses himself at Sam's house after patrols before coming home to you. 
Since you are human and your initial experience with the pack had both been overwhelming -thanks to your lover imprinting on you the first chance he was given- and traumatizing -as said lover who was much worse at controlling his primal urges back then had lost control at the sight of you because he was so overcome with raw, foreign emotion he did not know how to process-, you prefer to keep by yourself near the outskirts of the community in a house that Paul had moved in with you upon your request. 
The pack life is simply too loud and… public for you; a city girl used to her secluded places and treasured privacy.
You notice that Paul is panting -which is very unlike him due to his superhuman strength- and a redness outlines his eyes when his huge form approaches yours. “Are you— Paul!” You gasp and nearly flinch from both the shock and impulse when he lets his heavy body collapse on its knees in front of you. “What the hell happen—” you never know with your hyper emotional mate.
His long fingers push your sweater up and out of his way so he can stroke the soft skin of your stomach with the tip of his nose, his head nuzzling into your chest as his dark eyes flutter close and he inhales a deep whiff of your scent. It is the only thing that never fails to calm your hot blooded lover down. 
“What's wrong?” Your voice lowers to a concerned mumble as you peer down at him, your fingers cradle the dusky skin of his handsome face -as much of it as you can reach- and your nails rake through the male's jet black mass of short hair. “Honey?” He only behaves like this if something went wrong or when he is in need of comfort, which are both rare occurrences as he is the usual caretaker in your relationship. But you aren't a complete stranger to him acting like this. 
Ever the uncommunicative one, the male only sighs— no, whimpers against your skin as if he's wounded and softly feels your skin with gentle caresses of his fingers. Words require thought, patience and wisdom. Unfortunately, Paul's instinctual mind runs too fast for those things to catch up with it in time and rash actions get carried out before better sense can supply him from its store.
“Paul…” A shiver runs down your spine when his lips that had begun to softly peck your navel find their way up your stomach before they halt to ghost over the healed, plum coloured lesions that stretch across your tender skin in menacing shapes akin to claw marks. “What are you doing?” Though he never mentions or discusses it verbally due to the guilt he feels, sometimes Paul becomes hyper aware of the scars of his unmediated passion that mar your skin and tries to make up for them in his own wordless ways.
Except, this only ever happens when you're underdressed or the two of you are indulging in activities typical to couples and the sight of them reminds him of their cause. He has never stormed into the house stark naked and marched up to you like an unreadable oversized pup on the brink of tears like this. 
“I am sorry.” You nearly jump due to how unexpected the sound of his words are. Usually he just sulks in silence. “Baby, I am so sorry” Paul never speaks when he is in one of these moods. Especially when he is experiencing bouts of guilt for his actions during his first encounter with you. “Oh, God” his body grows heavy against yours as he practically pushes his face into the crevices like he wants to become one with them and fill them back up to their original state with parts of himself. 
“Paul— oof!” Your smaller body yields to his weight and the ground slips from underneath your feet. “D- Did the guys say something?” You fear the worst as Paul's protective hands catch you before your back can hit the wooden ground and you cannot help but whimper from how his lips lock with the scars in thick, desperate and hurried apologetic kisses. 
Paul and his pack mates play rough and sometimes they go too far with the teasing. So though he clings to the tough guy act in front of them, he dismantles into you once he is home if their words ever get too far. Yes, the tussling and fighting is not enough if it's serious. And just sometimes, when it gets too much for him to bottle it up, he shares some of it with you. But most often not, since he knows how you feel about the pack and he does not like to worry you.
“I am sorry it has taken me this long to say it out loud, baby… but I am so sorr—”
“Paul, hey, look at me” but he refuses to detach himself from your skin in his shame, his big hands safely holding your whole body up against his. “You don't have to—” you cannot help it, you hate to see him like this when you know how badly he regrets it. You hate for him to hurt.
“But I do” he nearly growls against your skin, his fingers tightening on your hips to brace himself against the war in his head. “There’s not a day that goes by where I don't regret it.”
“But you didn't do it on purpose, baby” you sigh when he refuses to let you see him. Your fingers try to pry his stubborn face upwards. “And you worked and improved for us, didn't you, hm?” Your eyes earnestly search for his. “Don't sell yourself so short.” One of your hands rubs his tense shoulders to try and ease their guilt-stricken stiffness. 
“All the same” ever the stubborn knucklehead. “I should have done this a long time ago. But I was selfish and I was afraid that if I verbally mentioned it…” He hesitates and the love you behold for him renders you helpless against a burning urge to reassure him. 
“My love—”
“I was scared you'd get reminded of it and…” He takes a deep breath and then gulps down the bile in his throat, blinking back tears. “L- Leave me…” Paul's voice is barely a whisper and your heart breaks at how vulnerable he sounds. “And I am such an asshole for it because it had more to do with my fear of you leaving me than you reliving your trauma…” 
“Paul…” You blink and try to focus, but his warm gropes and caresses falter your steam of thought. 
“I love you, I really do, so much” he peeks up at you just a little, dark eyes frightened for the first time since the day he scarred you. “Please forgive me. I don't ever want to lose you. I know what I did was irreversible but I swear I'll spend the rest of my life fixing it… if you'll let me.” You shake your head. 
Does he really think there's an off chance that you will leave? 
“Paul” when you cup the side of his face, he hides into your stomach again. “Hey,” you try to duck your face closer to his. make him look at you. “Look at me” your intended request comes out an order due to all the emotions you feel. “I forgave you a long time ago. That's the reason why I am still here” you finally manage to place your forehead against his, making your breaths mingle with his. “I love you more, so much more.” He opens his mouth to drone so you beat him to it. 
“Now shut up and kiss me.”
Paul is taken aback at your demand, his widening eyes prove it. But as surprising as it may be for him, this isn't something that was unresolved for you until today -unlike him- so you aren't as overwhelmed with angst. Because your mate has proven his love, devotion and worthiness of you through his actions over the course of your relationship. He has shown you that he loves you and that he is sorry for what he did. 
If anything, his innocently intimate and lovestruck worship of your body has fired it up instead of making it sentimental. 
And so you want him. 
Bad.
“But—”
“No buts. Kiss me.” You are breathless as you urge him to do so, your hands try to pull his face closer into yours although in vain because his bigger and stronger form remains unbudging. 
Paul's eyes search yours for assurance. “... Yes, ma'am” he whispers once finds it and the next thing you know, you're being pounced down onto the floor with his arms cased around you to protect you from the impact. 
And though you always feared that him getting physical in this manner would trigger you, you giggle against his mouth that he drags across your chest and up your throat to clamp onto yours. Your arms circle around his broad shoulders and instead of trying to repel him -like you suspected you would despite having grown to trust him now- you pull him closer as you whimper into the tender yet hungry kiss, feeling your legs climb the lower half of his body instinctively.
“Paul~” you needily blabber against his tongue that he uses to enjoy the sweetness of your mouth, his balmy lips enveloping everything your mouth has to offer in tight, big kisses. “Mm~” your chest aches from the strain the lack of oxygen puts on your lungs but your sparking nether regions only scoot closer to his that you feel riling up against yours, your hips grinding against his and limbs tightening around his rock hard body.
“Mine” he growls against your mouth when he has no choice but to pull apart at last, his coarse fingers groping you in greedy handfuls while peeling away any fabric that hurdles their path to your skin. “All mine” you moan at the feeling of his teeth grazing against the tender skin of your boobs that he sprays with kisses and licks. “God, mouse, I love you so much” the strength he puts into pushing everything you wear on your upper body away from it leaves you breathless. You love the thrill you feel when his touch feels like he is on the horizons of the dangers he is capable of. When he is so worked up and desperate that he cannot help but get rough because your sweet sweat and arousing body heat fires him up the way it does. You are addicted to the sight of him not giving in to his beastly impulses despite all that because he loves you so much. It is scary, yes. But it turns you on too.
“I love you too, Paul” though he likes to act cocky and all-knowing most of the time, you know he needs to hear it too. Underneath all that knucklehead play fighting and manhandling of his, he needs reassurance just as much as the next person and though he tries not to burden you as his different lifestyle is hard enough for you as it is, you don't have to be part wolf to feel him and hear his heart. 
“You're so perfect…” The way he peppers wet kisses along your cheekbone whilst relieving you of the rest of your clothing causes for your eyes to flutter close to cherish the tingling feeling that sparks your body alight. “Just—” when you try to reach for him to also make it enjoyable for him, he plants your hands above your head and softens your confused pout with a kiss. “Just let me take care of you today, yeah? Don't worry about anything.” 
“But— oh!” He reaches for the mating mark that sits on the right side junction of your neck where a she-wolf's mating glad would be. And though you lack the physical features to feel him through it, the meaning that it holds for Paul serves as a bridge for the biological gap. “Oh…” You turn your head sideways to rub your cheek against his shaved one, your hips roll into his hand that dips between your legs and you shudder against Paul's hot tongue that drags across the impressions of his teeth that crevice your skin. 
“Taste so fuckin' sweet, baby” there is a strain in Paul's voice because of how much strength it is taking him to hold himself back from impaling you full of his cock right there. “So perfect” the lower half of his body leaps down so he can rub his bare erection against the softness of your leg. 
You moan at the feeling. “Paul,” you whisper into his hair, the feeling of his sharp teeth causing for slick to sizzle up to your entrance from the inside. He growls out a quiet yes, baby against the mark, one hand constantly caressing the dents running along the width of your stomach. “Don't hold back” you go to touch his rock hard cock and he grunts in denial, seizing your wrist in his fingers faster than you can blink. 
His face comes up to dominate your vision. “No, mouse, tonight is all about you” another kiss squishes out any protest you can form and when his invasive tongue has your nostrils flared from the breathlessness, Paul drags it down your writhing body in the company of heavy pecks until his mouth is between your thighs and he is propping one up with a broad shoulder and the other with his hand that isn't occupied with caressing the evidence of his temper. 
“Paul—!” He knows how shy you get when he is between your legs like this. 
But it's not his fault you taste so fulfilling. 
“Sh, little mouse, you're perfect” he kisses any and all insecurities away with gentle kisses, the hand that cases one of your thighs stroking the tender inside with its thumb. “And you taste so good too” he takes his time worshiping your pelvis, deliberately leaving out your pussy to save the best for last. And though you pretend to disapprove and whine for him to come back up and just fuck you instead, his soft kisses that vibrate into your skin every time he moans at the feeling of your nether skin touching his slightly chapped lips, you find yourself helplessly crying out for more at the end. 
“Paul, please!” You feel his mouth twist into a smirk and your hands dart to finger his thick hair to withstand the sensation of his mouth hovering over your petals. 
“Please what, mouse?” You roll your eyes at the taunt in his voice. 
“Please touch me!” Your fingers impatiently tug at his short strands and he grins.
“Oh, mouse, but I am touching you” you whine and his shoulders vibrate under your knees from his devilish mirth. 
“Y- You know what I mean!” Though your cheeks are already aflush, you feel new heat seep underneath the layers of the reddened skin. 
“Mmm, but I thought you wanted me to—”
“Paul!” You desperately whine and he lets out a deep cackle.
“Fine, geez” he is so mean when he gets smug. You go to scowl down at him but he takes the mound between your legs in a deep handful and feels the slit between your petals in a vertical caress of his thumb before you do and you end up letting out a loud moan instead. “Needy much?” You bite your lip and wantonly roll your hips closer to his mouth. “Tsk, tsk. Impatient little mouse…” The tip of his digit presses between your nether lips that are dusted with pearly discharges of your arousal and a cherry red flush and your hips buck in anticipation. “You're lucky that you're so pretty and I like you so much…” Your spine trembles in your skin when you feel the coarse skin of his thumb against your ultrasensitive folds. “Because I typically don't appreciate things so small ordering me around…” Your back arches when he finally sticks the hot tip of his tongue between your nether lips.
“Oh…” You feel your toes curl. “More, please, Paul, more.”
He is so enchanted by your sweet scent and addictive taste that he is ignorant to anything that isn't your body. “But you, my dear mouse, you're something else…” His strong hands take your ass in them and he firmly kneads the plump skin, talking pretty much over you with a lust-drunken madness. You mewl out a moan at the feeling and Paul growls at the sound you make, pulling you closer to his mouth as he presses an open kiss to your pussy. “Fuck,” he groans and licks his lips that glisten from your slick, his own tip leaking at the taste of you. “I've never tasted anything like you before and I sure as hell am never gonna get tired of it.” 
“Paul!” you cry out when his tongue twirls against your entrance, his nose rubbing against your clit to caress it with the tip as he begins to eat you out.
His growl that vibrates your soaked folds to a buzzing life causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “Paul” you moan breathlessly, his name turning to a prayer as you tremble on the verge of releasing more slick.
“Gimme that sweet cum, baby, let me taste it” your lips part and you can't help but arch into his mouth with need. His hands are merciless, the one on your ass kneads it with rough gropes as the other massages the underside of your thighs in broad, determined strokes. You moan and writhe against him, your vision blurring at the hot waves that take over your body.
“I am gonna— oh, Paul!” He moans against you as you tremble and then release more even slick into his mouth. His tongue is in heaven as he greedily licks up all he can get. 
“Fucking hell, baby” the grainy tip of his tongue pokes and prods at your entrance, working the little hole open. “I can't wait to stuff this pretty little pussy full of my pups.” 
“Mmm, oh fuck, Paul, oh fuuuck” when he finally penetrates the tight barrier and his hot tongue invades your sensitive cavern, the burning knot between your hips gets tighter. Paul moans at the feeling of your delicate walls and though the vibrations of his doing so shakes you to your core, you cannot help but greedily wrap your legs around his head to both stay in place and withstand the pleasure.
“Oh, God, Paul, ’m so close!” Your voice is a breathless mewl and he growls at the vulnerable sound, his cock hurting from need. “Oh, fuck” you tremble so badly that you'd collapse into the ground if your knees weren't propped up by your mate's shoulders. “Oh fuck, oh fuck” Paul’s jaw flexes against your thighs when he begins to fuck you with his tongue, one hand fumbling for your cunt before he tickles the hood with his thumb. Your back arches and you clench your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasp out his name.
“Tsk, tsk, mouse” his hot breath fans your sensitive folds and you can't help but whimper at the feeling of his middle finger replacing his tongue. “You need to relax.” His hand that holds your ass pats your cheek in an endearing yet condescending way and your whole body tenses up at the touch even more. “I'm gonna take care of you, baby” you cannot help but rock your hips to his finger stretching your insides out against it. “You're mine and I'll never let you get hurt again, I promise” he croons before pressing a tender kiss to your clitorial nub. “You know that, right?” He kisses the slick covered inside of your thigh next to soothe your shaking body. “Tell me you know you're mine” his possessive words make the heat between your legs to go haywire.
“I am yours, Paul” you breathlessly promise him before letting out a moan when he tickles your folds with his tongue in a praising manner, satisfaction breaking out on his handsome face at your obedience.
“Good mouse” he begins to lap at your nub and your walls tense around his finger as a result, causing for your slick to slosh from the opening and down Paul's hand. “Shh, mouse, easy now” he cooes to get you to relax because of how tightly you are clenching yourself and it only gets worse when he adds a second finger. Your hips are so tight. You are on the edge. “You're gonna let me take care of this cute little pussy, aren't you?” You whimper at the feeling of being stuffed full and being licked at the same time.
“Y- Yes, Paul!” The air is heavy with the smell of slick and the sound of him slurping your juices up.
He adds a third finger and you nearly burst into tears from the pleasure. “Oh God, Paul, I am gonna cum!” Your entrance burns from the stretch and you moan from the bittersweet discomfort. “Please, lemme cum! Wanna cum so bad! Please, please!” Your submissive side comes out because of how overwhelmed you are and Paul can cum from the fragility of your voice right here.
“Hold it for me, mouse, good girl, c'mon” you sob at his cruel denial and he closes his lips around a mouthful of your folds, soundfully sucking at the clammy skin as he speeds his hand up to practically hammer your trembling pussy into an orgasm. Your toes curl and you throw your head back, fingers tugging at his hair as you tremble violently against him. Your back arches from how his free hand pinches and twists your nipples, softly landing occasional smacks to your boobs. “Good girl. I know you can take it” his hand then comes down to massage your ass cheek to make for a better stretch. “Relax, baby” you sob out his name and he smiles against your quivering core, his cheek gently caressing the inside of your thigh to get you to loosen up a little because you are clenching so hard.
“You're doing good, mouse. So good” his lips buzz against your clit. “Take it, baby, take it” your walls twitch against his coarse digits. “That's a good girl” he praises you while continuing to stuff your pussy with his fingers, the feeling of being filled up to the brim causing for you to shake and tremble violently. “That's my good girl” his tongue licks your clit as his fingers curve inside of you to search for your sensitive bundle of nerves that always makes you let out the sweetest of melodies.
“I'm gonna— I can't anymore, Paul!” Neon shapes cloud your vision when his fingers graze your sensitive spot and he growls at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his fingers.
“Yeah, baby. You can cum now” he finally relents and you cry out from the joy. “My little mouse, give me that sweet cum” his mouth never stops moving against you and you are so overcome with emotion that you are not sure if the tears that are streaming down your cheeks are due to pleasure or pain. “Gimme it, mouse. Gimme it” his tongue is like a beast that eats you up to satiate its starvation. You cry out his name from the pleasure.
“Paul! Paul, Paul— oh god!” The tongue is too much, though it gives you everything you could ask for at the moment, you need to escape. But when you try to pull away Paul catches your hips and holds you in place. 
“Now, where do you think you're going, little mouse?” There is a beastliness to his voice.
“N- No, Paul! No more—” you don't get to finish your plea because his mouth clamps down on your sensitive flesh to suckle on it in big, eager kisses again and your heart threatens to burst through your chest.
“Oh fuck” the knot between your legs tightens so hard you cannot maintain it anymore. Vertigo breaks through your hearing. “Oh— Paul!” The orgasm takes over your whole body, your mind blurs from the burst of sensation that courses through your blood and everything turns into a euphoric mess. “O- Oh God…” You tremble from the aftershock and Paul groans when he feels you squirt. He releases your hips and you fall back onto the floor, your body too weak to withstand its own weight. “O- Oh fuck…” You're breathless and your body feels like jelly. “Paul, oh Paul…” Your fingers desperately try to reach for him like you're no older than a baby and you notice that he is stroking his hurting cock because of the need to bury his knot in you, a pained expression etched across his face. “P- Paul, I am ready” though you can barely speak, your body shakes from the need to be filled up by him.
“Mouse… are you sure?” Though his voice strains from the painful need, he prioritizes your comfort over his and your heart wells up.
“Y- Yes” you try to sit up. “Fill me up, please” he needs no more encouragement after that. With a low growl, he jumps onto you and you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance in a heated caress that makes you whine, your body even forgetting to yelp from how he pounces on you. 
“I'll never hurt you again, mouse” he whispers into your ear as he buries his nose into your hair, cock throbbing between your legs. You gasp when he enters you in a quick thrust that makes for all the air to bolt out of your lungs. “I promise.” You tremble in his hold and Paul groans at the feeling.
“I know” his mouth clamps down on the mating mark upon hearing your whisper and he slowly stretches your pussy to fit around his erection that even after all that fingering is still too big for your tiny cunt. The overstimulation causes for stars to form in your vision. His cock twitches inside you and he growls, the tip of his tongue tickling your nape in need.
“That's a good girl, baby” the hand that cups the side of your face tenderly strokes your cheek. “Relax for me” when your walls finally adjust to his log-like girth, Paul grins against the mating mark. “You're doing so good for me” the thrust of his hips causes for his cock to rub against your sensitive spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head with the feeling. “There's my good girl. You take my cock so well.” He releases his bite, hips pistoning up and down between your legs as he baby talks to you and strokes your hair to comfort you against the overstimulation that makes you whine.
“Paul!” You tremble as he fucks you in slow, long strokes and you cannot help but cry out his name in need.
“I'm here, baby. I got you” he murmurs into your hair and you moan at the baritone of his voice. “Take this cock, baby, you got it” he pants as his fat cock slides in and out of you. Then he suddenly grunts and readjusts you in his hold because the position is not comfortable enough for you and he can feel it. “God, you're so perfect.”
“I love you, Paul” you murmur into his ear, your hips lazily rolling against his as you hold him tight. 
“I love you more” the latter part of his sentence turns into a growl due to his struggle with the positioning and he collects your limp form in his. “And I can do this better” though he roughly pushes your bodies off the floor to head for the bedroom, his fingers subconsciously caress your back in gentle strokes to make up for how your bare skin rubbed into the floor during the ordeal. You whine from how his heavy sack puts a strain on your entrance where your bodies connect as he does so. He cooes praise and reassurance in your ear as comfort, peppering your mouth with gentle kisses.
.
The next morning when he leaves for patrol in a black tank top and some shorts, there is a shy grin on his face as he looks back at the door one last time to wave you goodbye. You blush and return the gesture, biting your lip like it's the morning after your first time with each other. 
“Geez, man, not the dreamy eyes!” A groan sounds from somewhere in the woods and you gasp before ducking behind the door. Chuckles and howls follow. 
The jerk brigade has arrived.
“Someone get these two a room!” You recognize Jake's voice and shake your head as you peek outside from behind your shield. “Oh, wait, they did that already!” You cannot help but snort when you see that Paul has begun to jog in the direction of the voices. “In light of how the whole town learnt all the ways in which Paul's name can be moaned last night” uh, oh. That's not going to be good. Your lover is very private and sensitive about you as it is and when someone tries to pry or joke about matters of this sort he does not appreciate it. Especially if it's his hormonal friends that he knows too well. “Paul, Paul, oh, Paul!” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment and Paul snarls before he flings his shirt off and jumps into the air, transforming into his beastly form midway and disappearing into the woods to attack the offendor.
You see the great trees shake from the tussle that you can practically visualize behind them and the encouraging howls of Paul's pack mates further confirms it. They love to get a rise out of your easily excitable boyfriend and he loves to put them in their place, being the strongest after Sam. Their crossing of each other's boundaries for the sake of fun used to concern you in the beginning but Paul himself assured you that that was just how they played and it was not coming from a bad place. 
So you wait for the ferocious crowd to move further away into the jungle that surrounds your house before you walk down to the dirt road to collect his clothing with a lighthearted shake of your head. A smile graces your lips as you do so and you cannot help but graze the now covered scars that your superhuman lover gave all his love to last night.  
Though it will be a while before he does, you cannot wait for him to come back home to you.
. . .
I am sorry if it sucks omg I really hope you like it <3
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2aceofspades · 2 days
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Update
Hi hello 🙌✨
~Little rant-y update incoming~
I debated whether to make a post about this or not, but I’ve ultimately decided to do so. I’ve been in the Rise fandom for two years now and I’ve thoroughly loved and enjoyed being a part of it. I am so grateful for this time and space I’ve had, and I have no regrets sharing my love and art for this fandom throughout these past two years.
I’ve also been making some positive changes in my personal life. At the same time, I have been/am experiencing a loss of motivation to draw any Rise content. That isn’t to say that I have lost total interest in Rise or TMNT or even art in general. My attention has shifted towards more personal artwork and projects, such as illustrating and experimenting with my own ideas and style. There was a time where this was very much my process and I was not a part of any fandom, and I think I am shifting my focus back to that, if that makes sense.
I have been sitting with this for a while now and decided that I wanted to say something about my potential lack of posting and interacting on Tumblr instead of just ghosting completely. To be so honest, I’m not entirely sure where to go with this blog, whether I’ll post and reblog things occasionally or not. I’m still very much adjusting and balancing things. That is to say that I am currently prioritizing other things in my life instead of really keeping up with updating my Tumblr page.
Additionally, I also want to thank you all for your support, your love, and for your acceptance of me into this fandom. I truly cherish being a part of a community of people where we can share art, writing, experiences, and stories with one another. I have learned and grown from this time, and I am most grateful ❤️
My ask box was also closed for a brief period, but I have decided to leave it open for now. I will answer asks when I find the time and I feel inspired, but it may be more sporadic. I appreciate y'all's patience and thank you again so very much for your understanding and support.
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soulmatesinc-if · 2 days
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Progress update (feat. timeline tease)
I’ve had some time since the previous one to put down the main beats of the update and write a couple of scenes that I have a tremendous need to release upon you… Which to me looks like a mid- to late November for the update.
It will be character- (and phone-) heavy, so a huge delight to write, especially now that MC has met everyone and collected (almost) all the contact numbers 😁
Thank you so much for your interest and patience!
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pretzel-box · 2 days
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Please read.
This is a general post about a small thing that came up two or three times in the past.
It's not that dramatic but I would like to adress it anyways since it's something that's stressing me out when people mention it.
"You take too long to post."
"You didn't wrote my request."
I admit that the pace I started with has dropped and I took more time to actually come up with stuff, despite my writing schedule.
This now is not a try to justify myself or to nag at the people that request but I like to let you know why I haven't posted that much by sharing a glimpse into my personal life:
1. I am german and dyslexic, I take a lot of time to edit my stories, and I write them carefully. I do not have beta readers or anything else that checks my works for spelling errors, wrong grammar, or logic errors. Most of the time, I write a rough draft in german and translate it by myself into english, adding more key elements. I do not use any translation websites or any other tools to help me with that because it mostly changes how I want the sentences to sound.
2. I actually am a human with a private life.
I had to take a break from school due my mental health and dropped out for the year. Now I work a small side job as waitress. I work overtime to make ends meet. Writing is something like a hobby and I do it mostly on trains, busses or waiting in a parking lot when I come up with a draft. Only in the evenings or nights I find the time to sit on my laptop to form it into an actual 1k minimum story.
On top of that, I had a recent breakup and some stress among the family. I don't try to let my personal life affect the way I am on tumblr. But I have to admit that what I write is deeply connected with how I feel. Sunkissed for example was highly inspired by my past relationship. As Above So Below is a story where I deal with my own anxieties. What I write has a small part of me and it's what makes it so special. And I can't be writing all the time because there are more than enough situations where I can't even bring myself to eat three meals a day or do some chores.
3. My laptop and my Ipad are broken. My laptop is currently in repair, all my personal data including saved drafts, stories, ideas, the layout for AASB and personal pictures are GONE. My laptop will return in roughly 2-3 weeks. All I have left is my phone and let me tell you how gruesome it is to write stories on your phone. Especially when it's not a one day issue.
As stated above all my works have a minimum of 1k words. Most stories even reach inbetween 2-4k words and AASB has a minimum of 5k. Usually I write around 11k words a week minimum without requests counting.
4. Yes, I gave myself so much work. I decided to have so many on going projects myself and I work on it. But right now I just don't have the tools or the time to make everyone satisfied.
Thank you all for reading this. I just had to let this out of my head and I apologise for everyone that is unhappy, disappointed or angry at me. It's not something I can change right now and I can only ask you to have patience.
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turcott3 · 2 days
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Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
be my baby
brandt clarke x fem! reader
warnings?: kissing, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, flufffffff
masterlist
-
“mmm” you groaned as you were awakened by the sensation of your boyfriends lips latched on you neck, his hands placed around your waist, you hands finding their way to his torso.
“good morning.” he says quietly, pressing smooth kisses to your jawline as you smiled, eyes lightly shut, content with your boyfriends affection.
“morning.” you sigh, opening your eyes, taking his cheeks into your hands and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“you look so beautiful right now.” he smiles, brushing the hair out of your face.
“right now?” you reply, cocking an eyebrow.
“i mean, you look perfect all the time, i just wan-“
“brandt i was kidding, thank you m’love.” you mumble against his cheek, his hands wandering closer to your bum.
“always.” he replies confidently, running a soft thumb over your cheek bone, bringing your lips back to his lovingly. you felt a certain electricity in this kiss that told you this was gonna go all the way. your heart thumping in your chest.
he helped you tug your shirt off over your head, hardly connecting your lips, his hands cupping gently around your exposed breasts, giving them a slight squeeze, rolling over so he’s leaned over you in nothing but boxers, what he slept in.
“can’t wait to love on my girl.” he mumbles, kissing your jawline, running his hands down your waist.
“can’t wait to show her how beautiful she is, and how much i love her, and how good she is for me.”
“brandt please.” you whine, growing wetter by the moment, trying to nicely get him to shut up and fuck you. he chuckles as he runs two fingers over the fabric of your underwear, pushing it to the side.
“patience baby, promise we’ll get there.” he giggles.
“you’re taking forever, less talking, more fucking. and kiss me please, i miss your lips.” you frown as he smiles, bringing his lips back to yours with no hesitation, sliding himself inside you simultaneously, your moan muffled by his lips. you could feel the smile on his cheeks as he thrusted deeply and slowly, feeling every inch of his thick cock pumping in and out of you. you gripped onto his back as he picked up his pace a little bit, his lips latching back onto your neck just like they were when he woke you up, nipping lightly in the skin as your fingers tangled in his soft, ginger, locks .
“so fucking good baby, so good for me.” he mutters, locking eyes with you as he snapped his hips into yours, a moan quickly turning to a yelp.
“oh my god brandt.” you groan as he speeds up, your walls tightening slowly around him as he hounded your pussy, pumping as deep as he could get, leaving room for absolutely nothing else.
you locked eyes with him, your heart growing more and more as you saw nothing but love in his eyes. you could feel how pure his love for you was simply in the way he held you as he made love to you. he held you like you were a delicate piece of art work, he would never dare to hurt you. he wouldn’t dream of it.
you were obsessed with the way his cock fit inside you, the way his lips fit onto yours like a perfect match, the way his grip on you was so protective, and loving. you were obsessed with him, and he pushed you to your limit, quicker than you ever could with any other man.
“you’re getting so tight, fuck, cum for me baby. i’m getting so fucking close.” he grunts as your nails dig harshly into his skin.
“fuck.” you whine as you’re pushed over the edge, spilling over into your climax as his cock twitches, filling you to the brim with his own, the milky substance dripping from you as he pulled out breathlessly.
“made such a mess.” you tease as he runs his tip through it.
“i did.” he smirks, you reaching down to pump his, still hard, cock.
“again?” he asks and you nod, him instantly diving back into you.
-
“whatcha making?” you ask, drying your hair with a towel as you walk into the kitchen after a quick shower to recover from the multiple fuckings you’d just received.
“well, i’m making waffles, but im trying this new batter i saw.” he says, nodding to a box on the counter.
“you saw where? brandt we never go grocery shopping.” you laugh.
“instacart exists y/n. we are adults okay.” he scoffs, sliding you the box.
“protein waffles?”
“yeah, i figure it would be good since we just worked out intensely for like two hours.” he says in that voice you always adore.
“yeah i guess you’re right. you know, you’re really getting me in shape.”
“guess we should keep it up huh?” he says with a cheesy grin, turning his head to face you and you giggle, latching onto his arm, watching him open the waffle iron.
“yeah we should, maybe even more.” he say raising your eyebrows.
“and i thought i was the dirty one.” he scoffs, making you a plate and handing it to you, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as you made your way to the couch.
“enjoy my love, i hope they’re good.” he says as you walk off.
“baby, anything you cook and put effort into is good.” you reply, taking a bite.
“really? i really don’t feel like im a good cook. i don’t know maybe i just didn’t pay attention in the kitchen that much when i was growing up. my mom loves cooking, im really surprised she didn’t teach me at least the….” he continues, but you’ve tuned his voice out, watching your boyfriend talk was one of your favorite things, god he yapped, but you adored him the most for it.
you watched as he continued talking about cooking, making each waffle carefully, his tongue occasionally poking out of the corner of his mouth during pauses between sentences, zoning out on his gorgeous jawline and perfect side profile.
“y/n? y/n.” he finally says, snapping you back into reality.
“what? huh? sorry.” you reply, him giggling at the bright shade of red your face turned when he caught you admiring him.
you’d never adored a guy so much. his cheesy giggle, his ginger hair, his bright smile and most importantly the way he treated you, it was pure perfection.
he was the one lover any girl would dream of, you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him again, as soon as you could.
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