#and then wish that when i look at my phone i will have messages waiting from him

[rootedinrevisions]

Enough for You: Part 2

SUMMARY: After deciding you need time away, you ask Tyler for some space to process everything. During your absence, Tyler finds himself constantly thinking about you, realizing how much he misses your presence and what you mean to him. Struggling with how to approach the situation, Tyler begins sending you small, thoughtful gifts, hoping to keep some connection alive while respecting your need for time. Each gift carries a subtle message, his way of reminding you of his feelings without overstepping. Finally, unable to stay away any longer, Tyler shows up at your door, ready to talk and confront the growing emotions between you both.

WARNINGS: More Angst. (with a little fluff)

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

NOTE: There will be a PART 3! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Part 2 got away from me so I decided to break it up as to not have one crazy long fic.

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog

The team gathered around the RV, tension simmering beneath the surface. Things hadn't been the same since Kate joined, and you could feel the shift in every quiet conversation, every glance that Tyler cast in her direction. After the last storm chase, when Tyler sat next to you and apologized for breaking your heart, you knew it was time to make a decision. You couldn’t stay—not with the constant reminders of everything you wished for but couldn’t have.

After a sleepless night, you made your decision. You requested a leave of absence from the team—just two weeks to get your mind straight, to figure out if you could stay and watch Tyler build a life with someone else. When you approached Tyler, he looked at you with a mix of regret and reluctance, clearly not wanting you to go but knowing he had no right to stop you.

“I need time,” you said softly, your voice steady but your heart anything but. “I just…I need to clear my head, and figure out what’s next for me.”

Tyler's eyes searched yours, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “If that’s what you need,” he said quietly, “I won’t stop you. But…I’m gonna miss you around here.”

You nodded, knowing he meant it, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough, not when he had already chosen someone else. “I’ll be back in two weeks,” you told him, and without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, feeling the weight of his gaze on your back.

Tyler stepped into the familiar café, the warm smell of espresso and freshly baked pastries hitting him as he waited in line. He pulled out his phone, scrolling absently through messages and notifications, his mind elsewhere. You’d been gone for three days now—three long, silent days. The truck was quieter without your voice, without your little side comments or the music you always played to keep everyone’s spirits up during long chases.

Dexter had grabbed his coffee the first morning you were gone. He hadn’t even noticed at first—it wasn’t quite right, but he’d brushed it off. Just a small thing, nothing major. Today, though, as he stood in line, he realized he didn’t even know what he wanted. You always got his order just right without him even having to ask.

The barista behind the counter smiled at him, her pen poised over the notepad. “What can I get for you?”

Tyler opened his mouth, then paused. Was it a double shot of espresso or a single? Did he like anything else added to it? God, how had he never paid attention to this before?

“Uh…” he hesitated, trying to piece it together. “Just a regular coffee, I guess. With…sugar?”

The barista gave him a polite nod, but he could tell she was already moving on, another nameless face in the line of customers. He sighed as he handed her his card, feeling oddly unsettled by the whole interaction. Black coffee wasn’t right—he knew that much. He’d drink it, but it wouldn’t be what he actually wanted. Just another thing that wasn’t right anymore.

As he took the cup and left the café, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. It wasn’t the coffee that was bothering him. It was the fact that you weren’t there to get it right for him, to know the little things he hadn’t even realized mattered. It hit him, harder than he expected. He’d taken you for granted—your presence, your attention to detail, the way you just knew him in ways no one else ever did. And now, with you gone, he felt the emptiness in every small part of his day.

Tyler climbed back into his truck, setting the coffee in the cup holder without touching it. He sat there for a moment, staring at it, the silence around him feeling heavier than it ever had before. You weren’t there, and for the first time, he was starting to realize how much it bothered him.

The truck rumbled down the highway, the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Boone was riding shotgun, his hand casually scrolling through his phone as he played DJ for the drive. Tyler had barely noticed at first, too focused on the darkening sky ahead, but as the third song in a row played, something nagged at him.

It wasn’t that Boone had bad taste in music—he didn’t. It was just that none of these songs hit quite right. The rhythm was off, the mood wasn’t there, and Tyler felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of his mind, like something was missing.

The music was background noise, sure, but when you were the one picking the playlist, it had never felt like just noise. Somehow, you always knew exactly what to play. Whether it was an old classic rock song he loved or something new that perfectly matched the mood, every song you chose seemed to be one of his favorites. It was uncanny, really, how well you knew him.

Boone scrolled through another song, switching it halfway through. Tyler’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the silence between songs suddenly feeling heavier.

“Everything good, man?” Boone asked, glancing over at him.

“Yeah,” Tyler muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. He didn’t say anything, but inside, his thoughts were racing. How had he never noticed before? All those times you were riding beside him, picking the perfect song, knowing his favorite tracks better than anyone else… It was like you could read his mind. Or maybe it was something else—something deeper.

Boone finally settled on another song, some alt-rock tune Tyler didn’t recognize, and the sound filled the cab again. But it didn’t feel right. None of it did. The whole drive felt off without you there beside him, smiling softly as you hummed along to the music, your eyes flicking over to him when a particularly good song came on.

Tyler’s chest tightened. You’d always been there, quietly in tune with him, noticing things no one else did. It was in the way you picked the songs, the way you knew when he needed silence, or when to play something loud to get his energy up before a storm. It was in the little things, all the details he hadn’t appreciated before.

How had he been so blind?

He thought about you now, at home, away from the team, from him. He thought about all those moments—so many little things that added up to something big, something he hadn’t let himself see. The music was just one piece of it, but now that he was noticing, he couldn’t stop. The playlist had always been yours, just like so many other parts of his life.

Boone’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You good with this song?”

Tyler blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah,” he said, though the truth was, no, he wasn’t. Not at all.

He missed you. And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Tyler's hand hovered over his phone, thumb tracing the edge of the screen as the truck rumbled beneath him. They were pulling off to the side of the road, another quick pit stop before the storm hit. The others were already filing out of the truck, stretching and talking about what was ahead as they made their way into the gas station for drinks and snacks. But Tyler’s mind wasn’t on the storm, or the chase, or even the team. It was on you.

He should call. He needed to call. He could feel the weight of your absence settling deeper with every passing mile, every quiet moment that used to be filled by your voice or your laugh. The last few days had been hell without you. Coffee tasted wrong, the music sounded off, and for the life of him, he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.

His finger hovered over your name in his contacts, but then it hit him, hard, like a punch straight to the gut: those words you said to him before you left. “I just want to go back to before. Before I met you. Before I let myself believe that there was a chance.”

He closed his eyes, the memory slamming into him with full force. The look on your face, the tremble in your voice—God, how had he let it get to that point? How had he been so blind, so caught up in everything else that he never noticed the way you felt, the way you saw him? All those moments, all those signs, and he missed every single one of them.

The phone slipped from his hand and landed on the seat beside him with a dull thud. His chest tightened, shame twisting deep in his gut. You’d believed there was a chance. And he’d taken that hope and crushed it. He’d hurt you, someone who’d always been there for him, always knew what he needed before he even asked. You’d been everything.And all he did was break you. And he hadn’t been able to see it until now.

Tyler’s jaw clenched as he stared down at his phone. He could call you, tell you he missed you. He could apologize, say all the things he should have said before. But would it even matter? You were done with him. He could still hear it in your voice when you walked away—how tired you sounded. How heartbroken. He’d made you feel like you weren’t enough, and the truth was, you were more than enough. You’d always been more than enough.

He was the one who didn’t deserve you. He was the one who wasn’t enough for you.

His hand curled into a fist, the phone still lying untouched beside him. He’d been blind, selfish, wrapped up in his own world while you quietly slipped through his fingers. The thought of you never answering his call, of you moving on without him, stung like hell. But why would you answer? After everything he’d done—or failed to do—why would you want anything to do with him?

He let out a breath, heavy and shaky, feeling the full weight of his regret pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve you. Not after what he’d done. Not after how blind he’d been to how much you’d cared.

Later that night, Tyler sat on the edge of his bed, the quiet of his room pressing in on him. The team had settled in at the small motel, the storm still hours away from reaching them. Normally, nights like these were his favorite—calm before the chaos, time to relax before the adrenaline kicked in. But tonight, there was no calm. Just the heavy weight of everything he’d been trying to ignore since you left.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging open his duffel bag to pull out a pair of sweatpants. But as he reached for them, his hand brushed against something solid at the bottom of the bag. Frowning, he pushed aside his clothes until his fingers closed around a book—a book he hadn’t touched in weeks.

He stared down at the cover, his heart giving a sharp twist. The Self-Help Guide to Letting Go of the Past. He had forgotten all about it, shoved in the bottom of his bag after he’d lent it to you. You’d asked for it just last week, something about being curious, but at the time, it hadn’t made much sense to him. You’d never been into these kinds of books before.

Tyler’s thumb traced the worn edges of the cover as the memory of that conversation came rushing back. You’d caught him in the middle of a busy day, the two of you sitting in the RV while the rest of the team was setting up for the next chase. You’d looked almost nervous when you asked if you could borrow it, your voice light, like you were trying to keep things casual. He hadn’t thought much of it then, just handed it over without a second thought, teasing you a little about branching out into self-help.

But now, it hit him all at once. You hadn’t wanted the book. You hadn’t been interested in the advice it had to offer. You’d been looking for something—anything—to connect with him, to spark a conversation, to get his attention. It was just another one of those small things you did that he never took the time to understand.

His chest tightened painfully as he stared at the book, the realization settling over him like a weight he couldn’t shake. You’d been trying to reach out, to bridge the gap between you two, even when he was too blind to notice. And now you were gone. You’d given up, walked away, and he couldn’t blame you. How could he, when he’d been so clueless?

His breath came out in a heavy exhale as he tossed the book onto the bed, running a hand down his face. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have missed all these little moments that showed just how much you cared? The music, the coffee, the book—none of it had seemed like much at the time. But now, with you gone, they all felt like pieces of a puzzle that he hadn’t bothered to put together until it was too late.

He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on the book lying open beside him. He thought about calling you again, his phone sitting within reach on the nightstand, but the same thoughts stopped him cold. You wouldn’t answer. Why would you? You were done trying to make things work with him. And after everything, he couldn’t blame you for that either.

Tyler’s hand curled into a fist, his frustration building. He wanted to fix this, wanted to make things right, but how could he, when he’d already let you down so badly? He’d missed his chance, and the thought of that—of losing you for good—made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt before.

The next morning, Tyler sat on the tailgate of his truck, absently sipping his coffee as the team went about their business. They were prepping for the day’s chase, double-checking equipment and reviewing the radar. Normally, he’d be in the thick of it, but his mind kept drifting, pulled in a direction he wasn’t ready to face.

Lily wandered over, her brow furrowed slightly as she eyed him. "You okay, Ty? You seem…distracted."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee—too sweet, as usual. "Just got a lot on my mind."

Lily gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it. She leaned against the truck beside him, crossing her arms. "You know, it’s kind of weird. Things have been off since she left. I mean, I knew she did a lot for the team, but…it’s more than that."

Tyler’s grip tightened around the cup, his jaw clenching. He didn’t need the reminder. Every day since you’d been gone, things felt off. The coffee wasn’t right, the music wasn’t right, hell, he wasn’t right. But he couldn’t put it into words—not without admitting what he’d been too stubborn to face.

Lily didn’t stop there. "She always knew what you liked, what you needed—even when you didn’t say it. You might not have noticed, but the rest of us did." She paused, giving him a sidelong glance. "It’s kind of strange not having her around. Things just don’t…flow like they used to."

Tyler said nothing, his mind racing as he took in her words. He hadn’t noticed how much you’d paid attention to him, all the little details you got right. But now that you were gone, it was painfully obvious. The realization gnawed at him, twisting the knot in his stomach even tighter.

Before he could respond, Boone approached, his usual easygoing smile replaced with a more serious expression. "Tyler, can I ask you something?"

Tyler nodded, relieved for the distraction—until Boone’s next words hit him like a punch.

"What’s the deal with you and Kate?"

Tyler blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Boone raised an eyebrow. "Come on, man. It’s obvious something’s up. The way she’s been hanging around you, and now that…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the side. "Look, everyone’s been wondering."

Tyler let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation—but the question hung in the air like an anchor, forcing him to confront what he’d been avoiding. "Kate and I… it’s just business. We work well together, but that’s it. She’s brilliant and could really be changing the game with this theory. I care about her, sure, but she’s not…"

He stopped, his words catching in his throat. But what? He didn’t know how to finish that sentence because the truth was sitting right there in front of him, and it was something he hadn’t wanted to face.

Boone’s gaze softened. "She’s not what, Ty? What’s going on?"

Tyler swallowed hard, the words heavy in his chest. "Kate’s not her," he finally admitted, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want to say it out loud. "The one I pushed away."

Boone nodded, his expression knowing. "You mean… her."

Tyler didn’t need to say your name. It was clear who they were talking about. He nodded, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions. "I messed up, Boone. She was always there, always…paying attention to everything, and I was too blind to see it. Now she’s gone, and I don’t think she wants anything to do with me."

Boone sighed, leaning back against the truck. "You know, Ty, you’re not the first guy to mess up. But you don’t have to be the guy who keeps messing up. If you care about her, you need to talk to her. And not through some half-assed text message or phone call."

Tyler glanced up, confused. "Then what do I do?"

Boone smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You have to show her. Show her that she means something to you. It has to come from the heart. Do something that proves you see her, that you care, and that you’re willing to make it right."

Tyler let Boone’s words sink in, the weight of it settling over him. He knew he’d messed up—badly—and now he wasn’t sure how to fix it. But the idea of showing you how much he cared, of putting action behind the words he’d never said… it was the first thing that made sense in days.

But could he do it? Could he find the courage to face you after everything, after knowing that he was the one who made you feel like you were nothing more than an afterthought?

Tyler stared down at his cup, the taste bitter on his tongue. He had to try. He had to show you that you weren’t just another person in his life. You were the one person he couldn’t stop thinking about, the one he never should’ve let go.

Tyler stood in the parking lot of a gas station, his phone in hand as he stared at the DoorDash app. He’d scrolled through countless options, debating whether to go with something safe like pizza or take a risk. In the end, he decided on the riskier of the two options

He remembered how often you talked about that Chinese takeout place near your apartment, the one you always craved after long days. You’d even convinced him to try it once, and he’d never forgotten the way your eyes lit up when the food arrived. The memory was clearer than he expected, and now, standing alone in a parking lot, he wondered how he’d managed to let someone who knew him so well slip through his fingers.

He couldn’t remember your order. But he remembered that it was something with chicken. He used the pictures on the app and his memory to narrow it down to the dish he thought it was that you liked. With a deep breath, Tyler hit 'order' and added a note for the driver to leave the takeout at your door with a message: "For the long days. I know you love this place. —Tyler."

He hesitated before sending it, wondering if you’d even accept the delivery. Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d throw the food out without a second thought. But a part of him hoped that you’d understand what he was trying to say—that this was his first step toward making things right.

You sat on the couch, the remnants of the Chinese takeout scattered across the coffee table in front of you. The familiar flavors had been a comfort, even if you were reluctant to admit it. When you first saw the delivery bag at your door, your heart had skipped a beat, reading the note that was attached.

For a moment, you’d considered ignoring it—pushing it away like you’d been trying to push away the thoughts of him. But after a long day, it felt easier to accept the gesture, at least for what it was: food. Nothing more.

Now, sitting here with your phone in your hand, you debated whether or not to send a message. It wasn’t like you owed him anything, but the gesture had been thoughtful in its simplicity. And a small part of you knew he wasn’t doing it to get something in return—at least, you hoped that wasn’t the case.

Finally, you typed out a quick message: "Thanks for the food. It was good."

You stared at the screen for a moment, your finger hovering over the send button. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t emotional. It was just an acknowledgment. Before you could overthink it, you hit send.

A few seconds passed, and you saw the notification that the message had been delivered. No reply came immediately, and you didn’t expect one. After all, it wasn’t like this was going to fix things between the two of you. But somehow, sending that simple thank you felt like a tiny weight off your chest, even if it barely scratched the surface of the bigger mess you were still sorting through.

The next morning, Tyler paced around his room, racking his brain for the next move. The takeout had been a start, but he needed to do more. He needed to show you that he hadn’t forgotten the details, even if he’d been too blind to see them before. 

His eyes landed on his phone again, this time opening a florist app. He wasn’t going to send roses. You hated roses. You’d said they were too cliché, something people picked when they didn’t really know the person. He wanted to send something that mattered.

Blue. Your favorite color. You’d mentioned it a few times, and while he didn’t know which flower you loved most, he figured blue would be a safe bet.

He scrolled through the bouquets until he found one that seemed perfect—a mix of blue hydrangeas, forget-me-nots, and white lilies. Simple, beautiful, and meaningful.

When he hit send, his heart pounded. It felt like such a small thing, but at the same time, it felt monumental. He was trying to show you that he was paying attention, that he knew you better than he’d let on.

The knock on the door was unexpected, especially after the Chinese takeout from yesterday. You weren’t sure what to expect this time, but as you opened the door and saw the delivery man holding a bouquet of blue flowers, your heart stuttered.

You took the bouquet, your eyes scanning the shades of blue nestled together in the arrangement. There were no roses—just as you’d once mentioned in passing. Instead, there were lilies, hydrangeas, and forget-me-nots. It was simple but thoughtful. He remembered.

As you set the bouquet on the kitchen counter, you caught sight of a small card tucked between the flowers.

“Not roses, just like you said. I hope you like these instead. –Tyler”

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you traced your fingers over the petals. For the first time since leaving the team, something stirred inside you—a mix of gratitude and maybe even the smallest bit of fondness. The forget-me-nots, in particular, caught your attention. They’d always been your favorite, and though you weren’t sure if he knew that or if it was just a lucky coincidence, it felt... special.

You sat down, flowers still in view, and grabbed your phone. Again, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But the flowers were different. They meant something more. He’d thought about this.

After a moment, you started typing: “The forget-me-nots are my favorite, by the way. For future reference…”

You hit send, and for a moment, you almost regretted it. Was that too much? But then you shook your head. No, it was just a small hint. A little crack in the wall you’d built. You weren’t letting him back in, but... you weren’t completely pushing him away either.

When your phone buzzed a few seconds later with a reply, you almost didn’t want to look. But curiosity got the best of you.

“Noted.”

It was simple, just like your message had been. But there was something in that word—Noted—that made you think maybe, just maybe, Tyler was trying to show that he wasn’t giving up. At least, not yet.

The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. Another delivery? You stood up, your heart sinking slightly, bracing yourself for yet another gesture you weren’t sure how to interpret. When you opened the door, though, it wasn’t another delivery person—it was Tyler.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen. Tyler was at your doorstep, looking both determined and vulnerable. He glanced at you, his eyes searching for something, maybe a hint of how you were feeling.

“Hi,” he said softly, as if unsure of how to begin.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting from the floor to your eyes. “I know this is probably the last thing you expected, and I know I don’t really have the right to be here. But I needed to see you.”

You stepped aside to let him in, your heart pounding. Tyler walked into the room, glancing around as if trying to take it all in.

“I want to start by saying that I’m truly sorry,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Not just for leaving like I did, but for not seeing how much I hurt you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and it’s clear that I messed up.”

You watched him, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, looking both pained and determined. “You know, I’ve been trying to adjust to how things are now, and I’ve realized just how much I miss you. Like, seriously. Boone’s music choices have been driving me nuts. It’s not even that he’s got bad taste, but I keep thinking about how you always knew exactly what songs I liked. And then there was the coffee—Dexter tried to get it for me, and it was all wrong. You always knew how I liked it. It’s the little things that I miss the most.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.

Tyler noticed and seemed to take a breath of relief. “And Kate… she’s a great person, but she’s just a professional colleague. I got caught up in this idea we were working on, and I was so intrigued that I didn’t see how it was affecting you. I should have never left the team like that. I’m sorry for that, too.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of hope and desperation. “But the real reason I’m here is because I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve had time to think about what I want, and it’s you. I love you. I love how you’re always there for me, how you know my favorite songs, how you care about the little things. I love your smile, your laugh, and even how you get annoyed with me sometimes. I’ve realized all the ways you’ve shown me that you care, and I’ve been blind to it.”

A heavy silence fell between you. Tyler’s eyes were pleading as he awaited your response. When one didn’t come after several moments he sighed. His shoulders tensed, and he began to fidget, anxiety evident in his movements. “Maybe I’ve messed this up. I didn’t mean to make things worse. I should probably just—”

Before he could finish, you stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Don’t,” you said softly. “I’ve waited a long time for you to say something like this. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

A smile of pure relief and happiness spread across Tyler’s face. He pulled you into a tender embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that spoke of all the words unspoken, all the emotions unexpressed. It was a kiss full of apologies, regrets, and hope for the future.

When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him, a sense of calm settling over you. “I love you,” you whispered.

Tyler’s eyes softened as he nodded, holding you close. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a breath. He then leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in another kiss.

As your lips finally part, the soft hum of shared breath fills the space between you. Tyler’s forehead rests gently against yours, both of you lingering in that quiet, electric moment. You’re still standing close to the door, the rush of the kiss slowly giving way to a deeper warmth—something steady and grounding. His thumb brushes along your cheek, his gaze locked on yours as though he’s memorizing every detail of this moment.

You both stand there for a beat longer, neither in a hurry to move or speak. But then, Tyler’s eyes drift past you, landing on the bouquet of blue flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. His lips curl into a smile, a playful glint flickering in his eyes.

“I see the flowers made the cut,” he teases, his voice soft but with that familiar hint of humor. He steps back just enough to point toward them. “Did I do okay?”

You glance over your shoulder at the flowers and then back at him with a smile. “You did more than okay,” you say warmly. “But I think I still owe you a proper thank you.”

His brows arch in interest. “A proper thank you, huh?”

Before he can respond, you reach up, pulling him back down into another kiss, this one slower, more certain, like you’re sealing the promise of something new between you.

[deesixxs]

CW; breeding k!nk, slight choking k!nk, very rough and dark!abby. That’s all I can really think of, have fun!

Authors note:

Dni if ageless, under 18 or a man!!

Thank you for reading this, this is my first ever time writing a fic, if I need to do anything to improve please let me know! This is the raw unedited version and I hope you enjoy

Love yall!

You have never been so bored, so horny. Abby was at the gym and you had nothing to do except lay on the bed and wait around. You groan and you grumble when an idea pops into your mind. Sure, it’s dumb and possibly dangerous. You decide to give Abby a call. Calls are only reserved for emergencies but you being this horny should count as one. The phone rings and you are met with no answer. You try again about 4 more times before she answers. “Is it an emergency?!” She sounds panicked. “I’m horny and I need you.” You respond back. She’s furious. “Really? Are you serious? Fuckin’ wait until I’m home” she hangs up the phone and you got the answer you expect, but not the one you wanted. You wanted her to speed home and fuck you the moment she walks in the door. You begin to grow impatient and start to touch yourself, you pick up your phone and take a picture, sending it to Abby. You know it will drive her mad and it will get you in trouble, but maybe that’s the fun of it. You don’t receive a message back, she only leaves you on read. It’s what you would expect from her but still, you wish you could see her face when she received the picture. About 10 minutes later you hear the door slam and a heavy bang of her gym bag on the floor. The sound of footsteps filling your ears along with the fast thump of your heart. You know you’re in deep shit. The door slams open and you feel hands wrap around your ankles and pull you towards the end of the bed. The blonde girl sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and then props you over her knee. You know what’s about to happen. And you know it’s going to hurt and there will be no mercy. “Fucking whore. You couldn’t wait hm? You wanted to get punished didn’t you? So fucking stupid.” She strikes your ass open palmed with a thwack. “Answer me you little shit. You wanted this?” Your mind races, barely able to form coherent thoughts. “Y-yes” you finally mumble out before another blow meets your round, and now red ass. She grabs you by your hair and throws you onto the bed, your ass up in the air, facing her. She places her cold hand against your spine and pushes down, making you arch. Without warning she licks a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your hole. She slurps up all your juices mercilessly. She kneads your ass and smacks it once more before grabbing you by your neck and pulling your back to her chest, you let out a small whimper and a yelp. “You gonna be a good girl and listen to me? Huh, princess?” Her hot breath tickling your ear and your neck. She pushes you with full force back against the bed before she stands back up. You already know what she’s going to grab, you don’t have to see to know what’s going on. You hear her rummage through the closet before pulling out a black box. She pulls out a breeding strap and buckles it to her hips. She sits back on the bed and without warning she slams deep into you, immediately hitting your cervix. You let out a loud yelp and your back arches upward. It hurts, the immediate impact to your insides. She doesn’t care, she keeps going and continues to pound fastly into you. “God, so fucking tight. Look how this pussy just swallows and begs for my cock.” She whispers in between thrusts. You can feel her hips start to falter and her breaths get quicker, you know she is about to cum, and so are you. You’re quick to get to the edge just before she runs her finger over your clit, rubbing tight circles. It makes you cum instantly, you let out a loud moan of pleasure, “good fucking girl, just wait, I need to cum..” she’s overstimulating you, chasing her own release, and just as she cums, you feel a warm fluid filling your insides, you can feel it drip down your thighs, she pulls out in awe, seeing the cum drip out of your wet and puffy pussy. She is quick to take off the strap and grab you water. “Here, drink” she passes you the water and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing your forehead. “Was I too rough? Are you ok? I’m sor-“ you cut her off with a kiss to shut her up “it was perfect my girl, I love you”

[bunnihearted]

🍓

[vampiricgf]

☆ FAVORITE GIRL

ᝰ you think he's just another frat boy with meaningless flirty words for the person he sits next to in a boring class (he's down horrendous)

frat boy satoru x f!reader, college au, somewhat established relationship you guys are classmates, sfw no smut, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, just lots of him being an idiot with a massive huge earth shattering crush <3

"And how's my favorite girl?"

"Worse, thought you'd skip this class again and we'd have some peace." You roll your eyes as you slide the straps of your backpack over the back of your chair.

Satoru Gojo, nuance Sig Ep and unfortunately glued to your side since the first day of statistics for reasons unknown to you. You'd made an effort to avoid members of greek life on campus, not wanting to get involved in party culture or whatever new dramatics were unfolding with its subgroups. That only seemed to encourage him though, casually throwing his arm around you through the duration of lectures and begging in that whining tone of his for you to come by the house.

You never did, you also pointedly ignored most of his text messages and actively regretted ever having to give him your phone number after the one assignment you'd been paired up for. Outside the occasional drunk text where he'd plead for you to show up, which did make you feel both bad for ignoring him and a little high off the attention. Not that you'd ever admit to clicking your phone lock and grinning to yourself in bed on those nights.

"C'mon, I'm the highlight of your day!" He shoots you that signature megawatt smile and you stick out your tongue at him, scooting your chair in the opposite direction and creating a wide gap as you sit down.

You see him frown and for a half second it looks genuine, making a pang of guilt reverberate through you so you scoot back to where you were and he resumes pestering you with some latest escapade in the Eps house as you both wait for the stream of students to peter off and the lecture to begin.

"Hey so, why you been ignoring my texts?" He pulls a pout and god you wish it wasn't actually cute.

"You send me weird combinations of emojis Gojo, what can I say to that?"

"It's Satoru," he quips almost immediately, barely allowing you to finish.

"Alright, Satoru, it's because you send me weirdo shit. Say hi every once in a while and maybe I'll say it back." You shrug, opening your laptop and preparing yourself to block out his incessant whispering for the next hour while you take down notes.

~

"You actually came!"

The sheer volume in the cramped, would-be living room of the house made you wince in tandem with his shout as Satoru threw an arm around you.

"I'm just humoring you so you stop bugging me!" You shout back, accepting a cup of god knows what from his hands and already formulating a plan of when it would be polite to bow out for the night without a barrage of where'd you go texts.

He doesn't answer you, too busy immediately yelling at some other guy over the volume of the music but you don't miss the way his hand slides down your back to settle at the lower curve, just above your ass. It makes you smile a little, despite your own misgivings about the scene you're in.

But quickly it becomes too much, being jostled by a permanently sweaty and horny crowd in such a cramped space, and you find yourself drifting outside to a patio sparsely populated with only a handful of smokers. The alcohol buzzing inside your brain makes you crave one, a thick, acrid stream of smoke spreading like thick flower petals blossoming inside your lungs.

One girl catches your eye and slowly you meander over to where she's perched, away from the rest on a railing that's seen one too many coats of poor paint jobs.

"Could I bum one off you?"

"You got a dollar?"

Lamely you pat your hips, absentmindedly searching for one until she lets out a soft laugh and extends the pack in her hand out to you. Marlboro lights, the gold top of it shimmers faintly in the dim light as you slide one out and accept the lighter she passes you.

"I tell myself lights mean I'm working on quitting. What a load of shit." She huffs out a laugh to herself as you flick the lighter and it gives a few sparky coughs before the flame catches, burning the tip of the cigarette into a solid ember cherry.

"I'm Ieiri," she says cordially as you hand back the deep purple lighter.

You give her your name before taking a deep drag of the cigarette, enjoying the feeling of it settling in your chest.

"They should invent a kind of cigarette that doesn't kill you." You say absentmindedly and she cracks a smile.

"Too bad the "healthy " cigarettes of ye old days had asbestos in them."

That makes you laugh, enjoying the way it flows into the air with the breeze that plays against your skin, like a lover running fingers over it and giving you gooseflesh.

"Wait, you're the girl Satorus got statistics with right? Tuesdays and Thursdays?" She asks between puffs, flicking ash off into the dark.

"Yeah, the very same. I figured I should finally take him up on the offer to come over, I've blown him off so many times." Saying out loud makes you feel a little like an ass, he may get on your nerves but he's never been anything but sweet to you.

"You know he's like, obsessed with you, right?" She says with another laugh and it makes you raise a brow.

"Oh yeah?"

She shakes her head, another drag before continuing. "Oh yeah. Gets too drunk every weekend and cries in the bathroom because you didn't show, has a crisis every day because he doesn't know what to say to you in texts. I've never seen him excited about a math course before this semester either, usually it's any excuse to cut class until a prof bitches at him."

With every word a strange sense of giddiness grows in tandem with the alcohol drenching your brain, and you can't help but think about those devastating blue eyes. The opposite of rose colored glasses but it fits, a shade of comfortable blue that tints the world because of him and suddenly you're gripped by the urgent need to go back inside and find him.

"Hey, thanks for the cigarette but I'm gonna go find him. See you inside?" You crush the butt out with the toe of your shoe, grinding it down and giving Ieiri a wave goodbye as the wall of thumping bass and neon light swallows you back up.

It strikes you as incredible how a house can turn into a labyrinth when filled to the brim with bodies and only offering the occasional flash of strobe or neon lights to guide you in the dark. After when feels like hours and checking nearly every room you come across for Satoru, without luck, you find Ierie once again leaning against a closed door with a particularly bored expression.

"Satoru she wasn't saying she was leaving she said she was coming to find you, dummy. Open the door."

As you sidled up beside her she shot you a conspiratorial glance before pulling you closer so you could hear her over the din.

"Can you tell him you're right here? He's such a whiny drunk." She rolls her eyes but you can tell it's playful, although you get the feeling this has happened more than once.

Hesitantly you put your palm against the door, feeling the distant bass thrumming through the wood. "Hey Satoru? I didn't leave, I'm right out here with Ierie!"

There's silence on the other side, making you frown in concern until the door is suddenly wrenched open and you nearly fall right against him. Despite clearly being drunk his hands come to grasp your upper arms gently to steady you before yanking you inside the hazy dark of what you assume was his bedroom.

"You're welcome!" You hear Shoko yell through the door as he sits down in a huff, still holding onto you, against a well worn futon.

You can't help but giggle at the way he almost curls around you, as if determined to attach to your side like some sort of sucker fish. With a bit of wiggling you manage to pull back, sweeping a few stray strands of hair from those baby blues as you do.

It's in that moment, when your fingertips brush his skin, that everything seems to pause. The noise outside seemingly vanishes, and it's like only the two of you exist in a comfortable bubble of silence. You never really noticed how his eyes looked almost crystalline before, too pretty to exist.

"Who gave you eyes like that?" You murmur, more to yourself but nevertheless he beams down at you.

"So you do like me, huh?"

The way he says it, so boyish, so... happy. You can't help but smile back, a shy thing that barely tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Duh, of course I do."

That makes him frown a bit, brows knitting in thought and somehow it made him look even cuter. No fair.

"Then how come you never showed up before? And you don't text me back?" A little pout forms on his lips as he finishes and you're struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

With a superhuman effort you keep yourself focused on answering him. "You're, well... All this," you gesture broadly with your hands as you pull away slightly. "And I'm just a girl you have stats with. I thought maybe you were just yanking me around, being flirty in class but that's it, you know? I didn't wanna look stupid getting my hopes up."

"A girl I have stats with? You're joking, right? You're everything." He says incredulously, eyes wide as if more shocked than insulted that you could've looked at the situation that way.

Heat rushes beneath your skin at that, you're everything, and you know it's not the alcohol making you lightheaded. In your silence he continues.

"Y'know I'm not just messing around with you, I think about you all the time. Sometimes you're all I think about all day-"

With a surge of confidence you grab him by the front of his shirt, pulling him down and cutting him off with your lips pressed against his. It grips you like a fever, a crushing need to taste him. It's all sloppy teeth and tongues and spit but it feels perfectly serendipitous at the same time, an otherworldly calm that takes hold of your mind as your lips move against one another.

As you open your eyes into his you can't help the grin that now stretches wide across your mouth, giggling as you press kiss after kiss against his lips, his cheeks, his forehead and soon enough he's dissolved into a puddle of giggles and faux pouts in your arms.

"Will you tell me I'm your favorite girl again?"

"I'll tell you that forever."

[rafecameroninterlude]

hii!! congrats on your 5k followers, I'm glad glad. 💖💖

cann I haveeeeee 🍩?? (frat!rafe with daddy kink??) 🙈🙈 i wish you the best!!

warnings: shy!reader, kinda mean!rafe, daddy kink, brief mention of phone sex/sexting, unprotected sex, semi public sex (at a party), slight choking, slight praise, dirty talk, creampie, hint of impregnation kink at the end

a/n: frat!rafe has a special place in my heart i’m afraid.. you guys have been sending me AMAZING req’s for my 5k celebration, i genuinely can’t wait to answer as many as i can <3

“come on, baby, call me what you called me in those text messages.” rafe teased you, his cock prodding at your entrance. if someone told you that sexting with a frat president would land you in his bed with his friends right outside the door, you wouldn’t believe them. “i can’t..” you whimpered, your eyes heavy with tears as he wrapped a hand around your throat. “yes, you can.” rafe studied your face. you looked so pretty underneath him. “what, are you shy now? you weren’t so shy when you sent me pictures of those perfect tits.” he laughed.

your skin flushed at the memory. you had never provocatively pointed a camera at yourself, let alone posed and sent a photo, but rafe’s words and desperation to see you naked had made you crumble. “please! ‘just want you inside me..” you reached up, pressing a hand against his toned chest. “not until you say it.” he shook his head, squeezing the sides of your neck softly. swallowing thickly, you gazed up at him. “who’s your fuckin’ daddy?” your eyebrows knitted together as rafe leaned down, his lips ghosting over your own. “you are- oh!” you gasped when he thrusted into you without warning.

“i’m your what?” he feigned confusion, taking your thigh and wrapping it around his waist. he felt so good, your walls stretching deliciously around his length. “you’re my daddy!” you practically screamed when his thumb found your clit, his lips latching onto the sensitive spot on your neck. rafe couldn’t explain it, but hearing you call him that made something primal awake within him. suddenly he wanted to fuck you dumb, and make you a whining mess. “you’re so fucking perfect, holy shit.” he rolled his hips into yours, your back arching off of his bed at the pleasure.

the lewd sounds of your soaked cunt, paired with the heavy breathing from the man above you, did nothing to conceal the music coming from downstairs where a party was in full swing. you clung onto him the closer you got to your peak, your eyes fluttering shut as he whispered filthy obscenities in your ear. “acting like a shy girl, but really you just want to be fucked like the filthy slut you are, huh?” you cried out, his advances on your sensitive bundle of nerves sending you over the edge, your thighs trembling as you covered your mouth. rafe looked offended as you tried to keep yourself quiet.

“fuck that, let me hear you.” he took the palm you had pressed against your lips and pinned it to your side. rafe leaned down, trailing kisses down your jaw as you let out the pettiest noises he’s ever heard. you shook against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck while he spilled inside of you, his own high hitting him with an unforgivable force. he cursed against your skin, his fingers curling into the flesh of your hips while he eased his movements to a smooth stop. you were still teary eyed and going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pulled out, watching gloriously as his seed spilled out of you.

“i should do this to you every night.. ‘make you really give me that ‘daddy’ title.” he smiled wickedly, wrapping both of you in his sheets as he comforted you, stroking your cheek and running his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep in his arms.

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

[ba9go]

(nsfw) bestfriend!bakugou catches you sneaking over

🔞 minors please do not interact!!! nsfw under the cut

bestfriend!bakugou x fem!reader, college au (bkg & reader are both of legal age), masturbation, heavy petting, loss of virginity, degradation, teasing, praise kink, fingering, clitoral stimulation, rough sex

summary: you get caught masturbating in his bed

part 3/3 of the bestfriend!bakugou likes to sneak over series (completed)

back to part 1 (sfw) 💥 part 2 (sfw)

about a month after katsuki’s parents found out about you, his darling best friend since childhood and now his girlfriend, sneaking over late at night, they gave you a spare key to the house. you had initially refused their offer, red-faced and stammering profusely, “nononono, i couldn’t! this is too much—” but mitsuki kept insisting, and katsuki couldn’t stand anymore of her damn whining and told you to just take the damn key. you relented.

the next day, katsuki decided to hit the gym after school and told you to go home first.

“huh? but your mom’s cooking dinner tonight, isn’t she?” you frowned. it was a friday. you always ate dinner at katsuki’s on fridays.

katsuki raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “no shit?”

“then why would i go home? i’ll just wait for you to finish up at the gym and go back with—”

“i meant my home, dumbass.”

“i can’t sneak over when you’re not home!”

“who the fuck said anythin’ ‘bout sneakin’? you have a fuckin’ key, for fuck’s sake!”

for some reason, using the key to unlock the door later that day felt more egregious than all the other times you had snuck over to katsuki’s place. you thanked the stars that katsuki’s parents were working. that definitely made things slightly less nerve-wracking for you.

still, you couldn’t help but take your phone out to text katsuki.

you: suki

you: i’m home

katsuki’s reply came after a few moments (he always left notifications for your chat turned on, even at the gym).

katsuki💣: Ok

you: i’m gonna go shower

you: then i’ll revise for next wk’s history test

katsuki💣: Cool status report I guess.

you pouted at his dry response.

you: ure so mean

you: it’s weird doing things at ur place when ure not home

you: feels wrong

katsuki💣: The point of having a damn key is for you to come over

katsuki💣: Even when I’m not around

katsuki💣: I’ll see you later idiot

katsuki💣: Stop spamming me

you sighed. katsuki was right.

you: okayyyyy see you later

you: i love you

katsuki💣: You know I love you too

you smiled, reacting to his message with a ‘❤️’. katsuki was right about that too.

you showered and slipped into one of katsuki’s hoodies. on katsuki, the hoodie fitted his shoulders and broad frame just right, but on you, it was oversized.

you sat on katsuki’s bed and whipped out your notes and laptop to start studying. about two hours later, you found yourself increasingly bored. it was weird, not having katsuki around. even if katsuki was more or less silent when you two studied together, he’d always be there to check in on you occasionally, grabbing your hand to press gentle kisses on each of your knuckles, or grabbing an elastic band (he kept a few on his nightstand for you) to bun up your hair.

you contemplated texting katsuki, but it was already almost 5pm; he should be back anytime now.

maybe you should take a break from studying. you sighed, getting up from the bed to place your study materials onto katsuki’s desk. you plopped back down in bed, pulling the covers over yourself.

like this, you were completely engulfed in katsuki’s scent — sweet, musky caramel. you had always been addicted to katsuki’s smell. you wish he was here to hold you, in his big, strong arms. god, he’s so big. and fuck, he must’ve looked so good at the gym, in that black compression tee that you bought for his birthday last year. you can’t believe he’s your boyfriend. yours, yours, yours—

you eyes squeeze shut, and you can’t help the way your hips start grinding into the pillow between your legs. it’s so hot down there, and you just wish katsuki was here to hold you, touch you, make you feel good—

you gasped, and your hand moves downwards, beneath the waistband of your and into your panties. your pussy is soaking, dripping, throbbing, and you can’t help the tiny moan that escapes your parted lips. it had only been a month since you and katsuki had started dating, but you’ve been growing increasingly pent-up and frustrated; every time one of your makeout sessions got too steamy, katsuki would always pull away, kissing you sweetly on the forehead. you knew katsuki well enough to know that it wasn’t because he didn’t want you (fuck, you’ve seen, felt his erection press against your thigh so many times), but because he, the perfectionist that he is, wanted your first time together to be perfect.

you found it endearing, really, you had always known that katsuki has always been sentimental about things, especially when it came to you, but fuck, you wanted him, needed him.

“fuck, katsuki,” you moaned. you were getting impatient. you brought your fingers to your clit, rubbing quick, hard circles. you wanted to cum, fuck, your pussy— “feels too good. hnng— fuuuck, m’close, m’gonna cu—”

“feelin’ good without me?” you imagine katsuki on top of you, smirking down deviously at you, eyes bright with mischief. you whine, and your hand stops.

“fuck, m’sorry,” you whimpered, grabbing katsuki’s hoodie to pull it up to your face. you writhe, feeling your pussy throb in want as you inhale the scent deeply. “wanna feel good with you, wanna make you feel good, ‘suki, please, please, i’ll do anyth—”

the covers are ripped away from you, your body suddenly exposed to cold air. you gasp, eyes flying open to see— oh, fuck.

katsuki stands at the edge of the bed, and god, he really is in that damn compression tee, and you moan at the sight. your fingers continue moving against your clit for a moment, but you watch as katsuki’s eyes flickered down to the movement, to your bare, exposed, leaking pussy, and you cross your legs shyly.

“y/n,” katsuki grits out, dragging his eyes slowly up to meet your gaze. you wonder if you’re imagining the lust swimming in his eyes, or if it’s just your own lust that’s clouding your judgement. you bite your lip, embarrassment washing over you, but you can’t tear your gaze away from katsuki.

“y/n,” katsuki repeats. he doesn’t move. “tell me to fuck off, and i will.”

you look at him, standing at the foot of the bed, jaw clenched and fists balled into tight fists at his sides. his face is flushed, and you almost feel sorry for putting him in this situation.

“don’t go,” you whimpered. “need you, ‘suki.”

and suddenly, katsuki is on top of you, arms and legs caging your body while his hands cup your cheeks. he kisses you, and your lips fall open with an embarrassingly loud moan, and katsuki’s tongue forces its way into your mouth. you didn’t think you could want him more, but in that moment, feeling the wetness of his slick tongue against yours, you think you do. you rub your thighs together, already sticky from your juices.

katsuki pulls away, and you whine. he ignores the way you wrap your arms around his neck, trying to pull him back down for another kiss.

“ya sure ‘bout this?” katsuki says, voice gruff but stern. a hand goes to the top of your head and he ruffles your hair slightly, before ducking his head down to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “need ya to be sure.” he kisses your neck.

“katsuki,” you moan as katsuki begins suckling at the spot, biting and licking and sucking. “fuck me, please?”

katsuki groans, his hips falling as he finally grinds down against you. your hips move upwards reflexively to press your core against his. fuck, he’s so hard.

“you,” he growls accusingly. “said ya didn’t wanna come over, cuz it felt wrong?” his hands find their way to your hoodie (correction: his hoodie) and he tugs at it. you tug at his shirt in response, and he shifts backwards to undress himself. you do the same.

you stare at katsuki, clad in just his boxers. big, is all you can think as you stare at the obvious outline of his dick.

when he lies on top of you again, your naked bodies are pressed flushed against each other. this time, however, his hands are cupping your breasts, and he presses featherlight kisses on the top of your chest, making you whine.

“why did it feel wrong, huh?” katsuki presses, eyes darting upwards to meet yours. his touch finds your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers harshly. a smug smirk tugs at the corner of his lips at the drawn-out moan that the touch illicits from you. his hands continue moving down and down, tickling over your skin, until one hand ghosts over your leaking pussy. his other hand holds your waist.

he takes two fingers and drags them along the wet slit of your cunt, smearing your slick all over his fingertips.

“katsuki, fuck!” you cry out, voice a garbled mess as your hips stutter.

shamelessly, katsuki continues to tease you. he finally tears his gaze from yours as he brings his face down to your pussy. he looks at his fingers, coated and glistening in your thick juices.

katsuki brings his fingers between his lips, and sucks on them obscenely, sticking his tongue out to lick around them, between them—

you moan like a bitch in heat.

“is this why, hm?” katsuki pulls his fingers out his mouth with a ‘pop’. without warning, he shoves his fingers into your dripping cunt. your hand flies to your mouth, and you try to stifle your screams as he begins thrusting his fingers in and out.

“felt wrong cuz you knew you wouldn’t be able to control yourself, right?” katsuki demanded, eyes flicking hungrily between the fucked-out look on your face and your pussy. “you knew you’d start touching yourself like this, like a needy slut, the moment i’m not around to keep an eye on you.” he rubs a thumb against your clit, and you cum around his fingers.

your eyes squeeze shut, moaning and moaning as you tremble under his touch. katsuki continues rubbing your clit, relishing in your noises and the shivers that wrack through your body, until your hips are squirming away from overstimulation.

“dirty girl,” katsuki scolds, though his face is more smug than angry. “what am i gonna do with you, hm?”

“f— fuck,” you stutter through gritted teeth, still coming down from the highs of your orgasm. “fuck me, kats.”

“can’t hear you,” katsuki smirks. he pulls his fingers out of your dripping cunt, and pries your lips open with them until they’re shoved deep in your mouth. your eyes sting with tears and you start to choke as his fingers hit the back of your throat. “speak up, sweets.”

“f— fua—“ you tried to speak around his fingers, but your words came out a garbled mess.

“hah?” katsuki snickers. you’re too horny to be mad. “come again?” this time, katsuki relents, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth.

“fuck me, please,” you manage to choke out between your coughs. katsuki takes pity on you, you think, as he presses an apologetic kiss to the corner of your lips.

“slut.”

katsuki flips you over onto your belly, and you instinctively prop yourself on your hands and knees as he positions himself behind you. curiously, you twist your head to look at him and holy shit—

katsuki’s boxers are off, and his cock is so big. it’s thick and veiny, and you make a mental note to suck him off later, but for now, you let out an impatient whine as you back your hips to grind your ass against his cock.

katsuki clicks his tongue disapprovingly. he places his hands on your ass, kneading the soft, fleshy fat, as he lines his cock to your entrance.

you let out a moan when you feel the head of his dick press against your entrance. then, he presses in and—

“fuuuuuck—”

“fuckin’ hell,” katsuki groans, hands moving to hold your waist as he bottoms out inside of your pussy. his dick is so deep inside you. your pussy throbs and clenches around him. “such good pussy. so perfect,” he starts thrusting, and you start seeing stars.

“yer so good for me,” katsuki rasps, and you moan happily at the praise.

“yes, yes, yes, all for you, ‘suki, all yours, love you, love your dick so much,” you babble. your hands fumble around the bed until you find what you’re looking for - katsuki’s hoodie - and you pull it towards you before sinking your face into it. the smell drives you crazy.

“greedy girl,” katsuki says with a slap to your ass. his hips thrust into you faster, harder. “already fuckin’ you senseless, and you still want that thing? fuckin’ insatiable.” you try to apologise, for being such a slut, but as katsuki’s pace becomes punishing, you can only let out broken screams.

“shit, m’not gonna last like this, sweets,” katsuki pants shakily, hands gripping your waist even tighter. his thrusts become shallow and sloppy. “pussy’s too fuckin’ good.”

“s’okay, ‘sukiii,” you moan drunkenly, eyes rolling back. you’re already so fucked out, letting katsuki do all the work. “cum for me, wanna feel you cum inside me.”

one last thrust, and your words are pushing katsuki over the edge, and he barely makes it in time to pull out. as his cock spills warm, sticky cum all over your ass and back, katsuki lets out a stream of curses, groaning quietly. he swears you’re going to be the death of him.

he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder blade.

“ya’d better not lose that fuckin’ key.”

is it obvious that i haven’t written smut in like 3 years

taglist (thank you for your support!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @literallyhere4noreason @nemisimp

[cleo-fox]

Surrender

Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.

No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.

The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.

At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.

He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.

He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.

His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.

It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.

He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.

You do, of course. What other choice do you have?

*

The next several hours are a blur.

You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?

It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.

You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.

You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.

You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.

They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.

You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.

You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.

You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.

*

It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.

You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.

“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.

“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.

He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.

“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.

*

You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.

Or that was your plan, anyway.

Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.

The room is much colder at night.

You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.

You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.

You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.

But you also have to pee.

You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.

The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.

Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.

Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”

You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.

You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.

You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.

“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.

“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.

You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”

He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.

You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.

He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.

And after a while, yours does, too.

*

Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.

It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.

It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.

But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.

But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.

God fucking dammit.

You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.

“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.

He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.

Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.

The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.

The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.

This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.

You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.

The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.

You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.

But only nearly and only for now.

*

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.

You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.

Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.

When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.

The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.

The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.

Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.

But not yet. Not yet.

*

Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.

You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.

You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.

The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.

You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”

He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”

You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?

He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky. 

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”

Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.

“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.

“Nothing,” you say.

He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”

You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.

“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.

Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.

“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”

Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.

“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”

You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.

The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.

You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.

You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.

You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.

“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”

You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”

“Please,” you breathe.

“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”

“Don’t stop,” you say.

“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper, your hips rocking.

“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.

“I need to come,” you moan.

“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”

A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.

“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.

His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”

You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”

He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”

“Is it working?” you ask.

He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”

You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core. 

You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”

Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”

You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.

“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”

“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”

Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”

His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.

“Good girl,” he says.

And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.

You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.

You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.

You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.

The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.

“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.

You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.

So close.

“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.

Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.

It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.

He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.

“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”

It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.

“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”

He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.

Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.

Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.

He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature. 

Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.

You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.

“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.

He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.

You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.

Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.

You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.

But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.

Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.

“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”

There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.

“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”

You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.

“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.

In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter. 

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”

You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”

It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.

The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long. 

As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.

“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.

“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.

It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.

He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss.  He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.

“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”

You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”

He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.

“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.

Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.

“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.

You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.

“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”

You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”

Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.

Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.

His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.

You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.

Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.

For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.

[luvyeni]

ʚ : SENDING THEM A NAUGHTY MESSAGE WHILE THEY'RE LIVE (LEGAL LINE)₊̣ !

p. enhypen legal line x fem!reader w.

warnings? mentions of: sex, fingering and spanking

— 𖦹 ( watching your boyfriends live and you get a naughty idea ) !

HEESEUNG !

you: stop manspreading…

you: it makes me want to ride your cock dry…

his phone was already in his hand going through the comments when your message popped up. completely ignoring whatever the guys were talking about, you could see the smirk on his face, spreading his legs even more just to text you, because he knew you were still watching him, biting his lip, typing away at his phone. your phone ringing seconds later.

heeseung: you wish you were sitting on my lap rn , bouncing on my cock.

heeseung: too bad bby ;)

JAY !

you: (image) love you <3

you watch his phone screen lights up, listening to whatever jungwon was talking about – you smile when his lips curl up into a smile at the sight of your name. his smile quickly drops , quickly swiping out of the messages, his tongue pushing angrily against his cheek , you thighs pressed together as you watch his type on his phone, your phone quickly lighting up.

jay: you’re think you’re so funny

jay: it’s gonna be really hilarious when i spank your ass raw..

JAKE !

you: your fingers looks so nice …

you: can’t wait to have them inside me tonight

singing along with the music playing for the computer , dancing in his chair, stopping when he sees his phone light up. “one second, it’s probably the members.” he lied, knowing it was you, he just didn’t want them to think differently, but it was kinda of hard once he read the messages. he chuckled, it sent shivers through your body, he quickly typed away on his phone, running his fingers on his lips turning you on even more.

jake: gonna make you cum hard

jake: just wait …

SUNGHOON !

you: i’m about to cum and i need you so bad ..

you hit send watching with a smirk as he slowly stopped talking, reading the messages. you watched his eyes darken, sniffing angrily, you watched him go over the messages over and over, typing away at his phone, you stared at your phone, the messages sending a wave of pleasure to your core as sunghoons voice went back to talking about whatever.

sunghoon: cum slut i dare you…

sunghoon: you won’t cum for the rest of the month

SUNOO !

you: stop staring at the camera like that , it’s making me horny…

he hummed seeing your name pop up on the screen of his phone, smiling. “oh?” he chuckled, his face turning red as he red the message, you watched your boyfriend become a flustered mess as he tried to maintain talking to the camera, all while typing vigorously on his phone. you phone ringing as he sat his back down fanning his face subtly.

sunoo: babyyyyy

sunoo: yk im love you can’t do that i’m getting hard now

sunoo: i can’t wait to come home to you

©️LUVYENI

[hysteria-things]

VEGAS

based off of this

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: while on a trip with chris in vegas, you get a little too excited when you see his new instagram post. you just can’t help yourself.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, masturbation (female), spanking, p in v, slight choking, hair gripping, semi-public, making out

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,029

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: chat i have mixed feelings about this one😔

❝i’m losing my patience, this ain’t staying in vegas!❞

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

this kid. he has to be doing this shit on purpose now, and nothing pisses you off more. he thinks he’s so fucking clever.

for context, matt and chris came to vegas for justin’s big poker game. you decided to tag along, but currently, the three of them are downstairs in the hotel common area to hang out. wanting to give the boys their own time, you stayed in the suite.

you’re sitting on one of the chairs on the balcony enjoying the city sounds and the night sky until your boyfriend decides to do this.

ah, the rule. it’s simple, yet impossible at the same time. chris set it a while ago when you were acting like a brat, and it stuck from that day on. if you break it, you’ll get punished.

RULE ONE: never touch yourself when he’s not there.

let’s face it. you had your hand down your pants the moment you saw that photo.

not caring if people around can hear or see you, your fingers slide in and out of your dripping hole with ease. you make sure to capture it all, the squelching noise and your moans getting louder the faster your movements go. “chris.” you whine, wishing they were his hands instead of yours.

the shake in your legs gets tenser the closer your high gets. “going to cum for you.” you moan into the phone, biting your lip to silence the scream you want to set free. it doesn’t take long for you to make a mess of your digits, exhaling from relief. you don’t hesitate to send the video to him.

heart beating in anticipation, you hear the front door shut not even minutes after the last message. all you do is stare into space and patiently wait for the person you need most to come outside.

his footsteps get closer before the sliding door opens and closes, your innocent-looking eyes finally meeting his as he walks in front of you. he crosses his arms without saying a word, and you spread your legs to show what he does to you. he licks his teeth, admiring the mess sitting between your thighs.

a trail of cum connects from your pussy to a small puddle beneath you on the chair. from the slickness, it’s practically begging for chris’s cock to abuse your insides.

in the blink of an eye, he grabs your calves to pull you to him. you gasp, him cupping your ass to lift you over his shoulder. he gives you one… two spanks before setting you down against the railing.

pressing hard against your clit with his thumb, he moves it in fast circles. “no teasing, please.” you protest, lolling your head back with a moan.

“you’re the one to tell me to not tease?” he scoffs, now moving his thumb slower up and down. “you’re lucky i’m going easy on you tonight.”

looking down ashamed, his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. your tongues intertwine, the noise wet. chris swallows your sounds of pleasure.

lips travel down to your neck, licking and biting at your skin. not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to drive you crazy. the erection in his pants nudges at your clit, not helping with the sensation you already have there. his breath is hot on your ear, teeth nibbling at the lobe. “turn around.”

when you do, he grips your hair to bend you over the cold steel, lifting his shirt that you’re wearing. you look down at the pedestrians below, who are completely oblivious to the actions happening above them. cars drive by, some horns honking in the distance.

chris’s pants bunch up on the floor when they meet it, aligning himself at where you are desperate. you gasp when you feel his dick stretch your walls, wrapping tightly around him.

before he’s about to thrust into you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. your hips move up and down, fucking yourself on his cock as you grip tightly on the surface in front of you.

groaning contently, he rests his free hand on the small of your back, giving you a spank here and there. licking his lips, he doesn’t take his eyes off the way you bounce back against his pelvis. the way your ass recoils is mesmerizing.

your moans are soft, lids fluttering closed when your legs start to tremble. because of that, you can barely move yourself anymore. then, you feel a hand wrap around the front of your throat once again, lifting your head to rest on a shoulder. “what were you thinking about, hm?” chris asks, thumb grazing your cheek. “what made you cum that hard?”

eyes opening, you shake your head. his hips thrust slowly, hitting that spot nice and deep. “you’re just so handsome.” you whisper, tears glazing your orbs.

his thrusts get more brutal when he kisses you, silent screams leaving your mouth. clicking his tongue, he leaves a smack on your ass. the stinging makes you accidentally cry out before stopping yourself.

he chuckles. “don’t be shy. let everybody know whose cock you’re screaming on.”

your moans get louder the more he hits your g-spot. you take a look down — where you could’ve sworn you made eye contact with a passerby.

the grip on your hair tightens, his dick throbbing against your clenching walls. you’re about to cum, and he’s not far behind you. the speed of his hips has you on your tippy toes, whimpering loud into the las vegas air. “i’m cumming. fuck, i’m cumming!” you squeal, making a mess down his base.

pulling out, your fluids drip down your legs, chris painting your back white. he lets go of your entire body, immediately almost falling to the ground if the railing wasn’t holding you up. you lean your head over it, trying to catch your breath. he smirks at the view.

after all, he’s been with you long enough to know what your cycle is like. perhaps he did make that instagram post on purpose; just for you. knowing that you’d cave. oh, well.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @sturnlcvr @tpvmz @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings

[lymtw]

When Toji finds out that you get yourself off when he's not around, he's blatantly offended. You recognize jealousy on Toji's face when you see it. It's not always pretty, but sometimes you think it's the most beautiful way you'll ever see him. He looks at you with those eyes. Those merciless, yet disarming, green eyes. You've told him before that they are one of your greatest weaknesses, and since then he uses them to his advantage at any given chance.

Shiu called Toji to notify him about a last minute mission, and though you begged him to stay, he reminded you of how this could be the one that brings both of you out of the struggle to make ends meet.

You were blinded by the amount of time you had spent with him. A week straight, no interruptions until Shiu called. It was one of the best weeks of your life, and that only further devastated you when you couldn't talk him out of leaving.

To make things worse, he wasn't able to reconcile with you and comfort you before he left. Shiu was rushing him, but all he could think about was how you turned your back to him, not even wanting to look at him before he left.

He answered Shiu's phone call for three seconds, an enraged, "I'm going. Jesus, fuck," before hitting the end call button. He stands at your shared bedroom doorway for a few seconds more seconds, still only getting a look at the back of your head. "I'll be back, princess. Gonna make it up to you, so wait up for me."

—

The mission wasn't difficult at all. It was so easy that he even attempted to contact you while he scouted the close quartered area. You didn't pick up a single one of the six calls he made, letting them all go straight to voicemail each time. It was irritating. He wanted to hear your voice, he wanted you to listen to him, he wanted to tell you that he was rushing this mission so that he could sprint home to you.

Once he got his dirty work done, he tried your phone again, and again, but you were still letting his calls go to voicemail. So, he decided to text you.

Babe, answer.

I know you're upset, but i'm on my way home now

Baby, please

You read his messages, sighing before throwing your phone across the room. He never says no to Shiu when it's about a job. You've accepted this before, but after spending a whole uninterrupted week with Toji, feeling like things would remain that way for longer than they did, it was hard to remember that life was gonna merge back in again at some point. Your vacation hours would run out and you would have to go back to work, and Toji would be hired to hunt someone down again. It was just disheartening to find out that it would happen so soon, and that Toji would jump back into routine so quickly.

You see one of his shirts at the end of the bed and reach for it. It was flipped inside out and balled up, so you know it was worn by him. Just holding it in your lap, you can smell Toji's scent. You bring it up to your nose, and your heart begins to race. Toji wore this. He's not there with you, so that's the closest you'll get to him until he's physically in front of you again.

You bury your face into the rolled up shirt, inhaling deeply. The scent really works at pushing you to forgive him for leaving. His scent was debiliating. It brought vulnerability to a moment where it was just you on the bed you share with your man. You were missing him and wishing he weren't so obligated to his work. It stirred up feelings that couldn't be contained.

In this whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't reject the feeling that blazed in you the most. Your need for him. Your desire to have him all over you, with those hands that don't quit when you waver between feeling like you've had enough, and wanting more of him than ever.

You crawl back to the top of the bed, Toji's shirt dragging on the sheets beneath your palms. Your shorts are peeled off and tossed to the floor. You grab his pillow from his side of the bed, slipping it between your thighs before laying down flat on your stomach. You spread his shirt out on your pillow, and lay your face on it, allowing your mind to fill with thoughts of Toji. You used this internal shrine to fuel the languid roll of your hips against the pillow.

Toji called one more time. He was two minutes away from the house. Your phone is on silent mode, still on the floor on the other side of the room. Besides, you were too distracted to see your phone screen light up, anyway.

"We're literally here, already. Quit stressing," Shiu says when he sees Toji scoff after putting his phone down, a deadpan expression on the former's face. The second the van stops, Toji hops out, and without another word to Shiu, he slams the door shut.

The door barges open and slams shut behind him. Had you not been in your blissful haze, you would have been concerned. Toji's footsteps echo on the hardwood floor as he looks around in search of you. You're not on the couch, you aren't in the kitchen. Where the hell could you be?

"Ma," Toji calls, walking through the hallway. He peeks into the bathroom, not digging further because the light was off. He hears heavy breathing nearby, so he keeps going down the hall. It's one of two doors. Luckily, he chooses the right one.

He slowly creaks the door open, his shoulders dropping immediately at the sight on the bed. He sighs in awe, leaning against the doorframe.

Your hips rolled a little faster against the pillow now, your arms curled tightly around the pillow for your head. Your face remained buried in Toji's shirt, your moans muffled as you gnawed on the black fabric. You were so close to unraveling, you could feel it building up in your lower abdomen.

Toji really liked the little arch you made everytime you pulled back and then dragged forward to get the longest amount of friction between your legs. He could see your body trembling, and your moans were getting louder.

"Oh, Toji..."

The monster in his pants came to life, prominently bulging through his pants.

"F-Fuck... fuck me, please," you gasped, keeping your rhythm but grinding harder against the pillow. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." you moaned, higher in pitch as you reached the brink of orgasm. You dragged your panty clad cunt across the pillow one more time before completely falling apart on it. Cries of pleasure shamelessly filled the room as you continued to shakily rut against the pillow through your peak. You whimpered, your abdomen quivering with your shuddered breaths as you kept grinding.

Toji's boxers were drenched with precum, just from watching you go wild on a pillow. You were thinking of him while he was gone. You wanted him. You called his name while you got yourself off to his scent on a shirt he wore yesterday, and now you're just there. A breathless, panting, needy, beautiful mess.

Toji straightens his posture and enters the room. He sees your phone on the floor and picks it up, the screen lighting to show his most recent missed calls. His footsteps pull you out of your climactic trance, a starry-eyed look on your face when you see him approach the bed.

"Couldn't pick up the phone even once?" He presents your phone to you. "Too busy fucking yourself on my pillow?"

"Toji..." you start, waved off immediately by his hand.

"Heard my name in there a couple times, princess. Thought you were upset with me." His eyes rake down your body, focusing on the way your thighs clamp around his pillow. He sees the wet spot on the front of your panties, and for some reason feels envy begin to bubble up in his stomach. His hand reaches for the elastic band of your underwear, simply feeling the material that hugs your hips.

"I was," you mumble.

"Uh-huh. So, instead of waiting for me like the perfect angel I thought you were, you made yourself cum on a pillow?" He scoffs. "Don't know about you, but that's borderline selfish to me." He notices the involuntary pout on your face, your guilty eyes trying to hold eye contact while he scolds you. "I make you cum. I fuck you until your damn claws are digging into my back. Tell me, doll, and be brutally honest, for me. How is it not enough?"

"I missed you..." you say, a last resort. All you can do is back yourself up now.

He laughs in disbelief. You really were ruled by your own desire. "Try again, doll."

"I needed you, Toji, and the closest thing to your presence was your pillow and a stupid shirt you wore yesterday. We have a dirty clothes hamper, you know?" You point at the tall basket in the corner of the room. "Maybe this wouldn't have happened if you had thrown it in there."

"Show me," he says, a twisted grin on his face.

"What are you talking about? Show you what?"

He pulls the pillow through your thighs so that you're centered on it again. "Show me how much you missed me." He sits in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. "Show me how this flimsy replacement for me, made you lose your shit."

You sit there, flustered by his silence as he watches you, waiting patiently for his hands to get gentle friction from your skin.

"Oh, you need some help winding up? I was so sure you were good at this, seeing as though you made yourself spill, but, guess not." He looks down at the front of your panties. The wet patch was growing with no movement from you at all. This made his ego sky rocket, but also reminded him of how unpredictable you could be. "I'm not gonna hold your hand the whole time, baby. You're supposed to be putting on a show for me."

His grip on your hips tightens and he starts assisting you with rolling your hips against the pillow. He watches your face, a bright shade flourishing on your cheeks when you make eye contact with him. It was like he had a spotlight on you, and he was expecting you to perform well for him under the harsh light.

You let out a shaky breath, your palms settling on his thighs. Your head hung low, hiding the bashful look of bliss on your face. It was a gesture that Toji did not approve of.

"Let me look at you," he says, still maneuvering your hips in a constant rhythm. You lift you head but turn away from him. "Keep those eyes on me." He manually turns your head, one hand releasing your hip in favor of forcing you to look at him. His hand returns to its spot when he has your glossy eyes on his. "I'm right in front of you. There's nothing over there that demands your attention, so focus."

"Toji," you whine, humiliation flooding your body.

"Gonna let go in a few seconds, so you better fall into some sort of rhythm, doll."

You try to pretend like he's not there, but it's hard to do so when he's staring straight into your soul. Watching every expression you make, watching every tremble of your lips, every swipe of your tongue. You feel total vulnerability.

His hands are off and you stutter for a second before picking up again.

"There you go," Toji mutters. You took control, and ground yourself harder against the pillow.

"Toji, touch me, please." You pull your shirt off, baring more of yourself to Toji. His lidded eyes take in the newly exposed skin. He can see your breasts rising and falling now as you breathe, and he can't deny how badly he wants to hold them. He gives in, his hands going to your back to unclip your bra. His hands immediately grope your boobs, testing the malleability like he always does. They're just so perfect.

"Aren't you a sight... You just have to be so fuckin' pretty all the time, don't you?" He rolls your nipples with his thumbs, taking in the way you shudder at the contact. "Fuck, it's hard to stay mad when you look like that."

You feel that familiar ache begin to form again, when the roll of your hips starts leaving a lingering pleasure behind.

"You're about to cum again, aren't you?" Toji asks, knowing the answer. His eyes are narrowed on you, his dick twitching even if his blood is boiling at the thought of you enjoying this so much. You're doing those little arches again where you pull back and your stomach is quivering every time you drag yourself back forward.

"Mhm..." your nails dig into Toji's thighs, using them as leverage to facilitate your movement even more. "Toji, can I cum?" you ask, your submissive tendencies coming out right on time, as usual. You like handing over control to Toji, even if it means you don't get to cum when you're seconds away from being an absolute mess. "Toji, can I, please?"

How can he deny you when you've complied with what he asked you to do? How can he turn you down when you're so driven with pleasure that you look like you're about to cry just from slowing down for a couple seconds, awaiting his response?

"Only if you do it on my hand." His hands still your hips, holding you down firmly to stop your movement completely.

"What?" Your cunt aches from holding back. It's pulsing, craving the return of stimulation.

Toji's hand slides into the front of your underwear, cupping your slickened folds. "Do it on my hand," he repeats.

"O-Okay," you comply, once again. You start rocking against his hand, the roughness of his skin adding more friction to your sensitive core. You were bound to snap any second now.

"God, you're so wet, ma. All for me?"

"Mhm... all for you, Toji," you whimper. "Gonna..." you gasp. "Oh, fuck-"

Toji devours your expression and the shaky pressure of your silkiness against his hand. His pupils are enormous, ridding him of almost all the green in his eyes. He loves the sounds you make, he loves that you adjusted to the spotlight he put on you and gave him the best show, but most of all, he loves that this was all the product of you just missing him.

You're left breathing shakily, your head hung low, and your eyes lidded with exhaustion.

"Did it feel the same?" Toji's voice brings you back. His hand retracts from your underwear, and he gets a good look at what you left behind on him, wiping it off on his shirt. It'll be removed soon enough, anyway.

"Not at all." You giggle. You look at him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. "You're irreplaceable, baby. Inanimate objects don't do it for me like you do."

He chuckles. Your voice is adorable, all quiet yet still able to communicate your reassuring words.

"I need a nap," you mumble, retrieving your shirt from the end of the bed.

"Wanna shower with me, instead?"

Your attention directs towards him like a homing bolt of lightning. He gives you a smug grin, and you know exactly what he's thinking.

"Spare me some company and one of those massages you're so good at giving, yeah?"

You give him a deadpan expression, almost refuting him until he hit you at another point where he knew you were weak.

"Please, mama?"

[pathologicalreid]

Hello, love your writing, can i request a oneshot for spencer Reid x wife!reader with the plot of the movie taken where she goes on a business trip or something and she gets taken and the team have to work against the clock to get her back. Had this idea for so long and thought you would be perfect to write it. Perfectly fine if you dont but im craving this story.

leave a message after the beep | S.R.

When you go missing under suspicious circumstances on a business trip, the BAU goes to Texas - and ends up in the middle of something bigger than anticipated.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, blood, guns, reader almost kills someone, hospitals, the securities and exchange commission, typical cm violence, texas, takes place maybe circa season 7 word count: 4.03k a/n: okay anon so like yes i can write this but also i've never seen the movie taken so really i took your request and made it my own! i hope you like it either way!

Tuesday, 2:17 p.m.

“Hey, Spence, it’s me. Shame I got your voicemail, but I just landed at Dallas Fort Worth and I’m waiting for my ride to take me to meet the regional officers. Not sure if you’re traveling, but uh, call me when you get this, I guess. Or when you can. Hopefully, this trip goes better than I think it’s going to… oh, I think my ride is here.”

Tuesday, 6:42 p.m.

“Hey babe, so, the first meeting went fine, they don’t seem very receptive, but people generally aren’t when I’m sent in to change their methods. Wish you’d pick up your phone. Anyway, I’m on my way to the hotel now, I’ll probably try you again before I go to bed. I know my updates are probably riveting.”

Tuesday, 8:09 p.m.

“Well, I’ve definitely stayed in nicer hotels than this one, but I guess I can’t complain about being put up for free. I’m probably just biased because the a/c unit is busted – oh, my room number is 316, I know you like to have it. I opened the windows to let air in but it’s so dry here that I’m not sure it’s helping any. I’ll shut them before I go to sleep, so don’t worry about that. Call me back, I miss you, don’t worry about waking me up. I think that’s all I’ve got, goodnight, I love you!”

There was a collective sigh in the roundtable room, five agents around the room all looked nervously at each other. No one wanted to be the first person to speak. No one wanted to be the first to propose a theory. “Where’s Spencer?” Emily asked, looking through the voicemail transcripts that were splayed out in front of her.

“In Hotch’s office, they’re talking,” Rossi said, eyeing the photo of you that was being projected up on the screen. Most of the time, Penelope just used driver’s license or passport photos in files, but for you, she had chosen a photo from the last BAU O’Keefe’s outing. Your skin was flushed and there was an odd shadow being cast on your face, but your smile was unmistakable.

The official files would have your driver’s license photo, but that picture was for the BAU. Seemingly unable to peel her eyes off of the screen, JJ asked the question that everyone was sitting on, “We’re on this case, right?”

It felt ridiculous, one of their own had gone missing in the middle of the night and they weren’t even sure if they had the jurisdiction to look into it. When no one answered, Morgan looked around the room, “The brass isn’t seriously going to try to tell us not to investigate.”

“No, they’re not,” Hotch said, suit jacket unbuttoned and fluttering behind him as he walked into the roundtable room with purpose. “We’ll debrief more on the plane, JJ and Garcia will stay here, the rest of us are headed to Dallas,” he instructed, nodding at everyone before turning around and walking out the door, the rest of the team following like ducks in a row.

On the jet, the traveling members of the team watched as Rossi held a cup of coffee out for Spencer to take, but the team's youngest member took a moment to even recognize that it was there, “Oh,” he mumbled, “thank you.” Blinking a haze from his eyes, he took the cup in his shaky hands.

A familiar concern flowed among Spencer’s teammates, they all watched as he twisted his wedding ring around his finger – a nervous habit that usually presented itself when he missed you. “Y/N’s boss is en route to Quantico to talk with JJ, the flight’s about three hours, we should get started,” Hotch was the one to speak up, herding the sheep in the correct direction while everything felt aimless.

With his legs tucked beneath himself, Spencer watched the team as they bounced back and forth in a discussion on what you were doing in Dallas and Penelope scoured through your recent communication.

“According to the voicemails and the hotel records, her room was on the third floor,” Emily spoke up, flipping through the file in front of her. “Do we have crime scene photos from the hotel room yet?”

On the video screen, Penelope shook her head, “CSI is still processing the scene, I have an inquiry in with them to send the photos as soon as they can.”

Checking his watch, Hotch looked over at Spencer, still sequestered on one side of the jet, “Make sure they keep the scene undisturbed for when we arrive. Dave and Morgan will meet with the sheriff at the hotel, and the rest of us will head to the precinct to set up.”

If Spencer wanted to be the one to investigate the crime scene, he didn’t protest his assignment, he just continued to spin that gold band on his finger. He didn’t notice the glances exchanged between the rest of his team; he could only think of you.

With the involvement of the BAU, the team had been redirected to the Dallas Field Office. “There was a hole torn in the window screen, the crime scene techs think that’s how they got inside,” Morgan announced to the team, they were all gathering in the conference room.

“On the third floor?” JJ questioned over video chat, she and Penelope sat right next to each other on the screen.

Rossi nodded, “We must be looking at a team. At least two, likely three UnSub’s in order to pull something like this off. They cut the camera feed and broke into the hotel room where she was staying – this was premeditated.”

It wasn’t difficult to deduce that being taken from the third floor of a hotel meant that you had been a target, but the evidence of a break-in settled like a boulder on Spencer’s chest. Someone had intended to take you. Someone had intended on grabbing you from your hotel room in the middle of the night – and they had succeeded.

“Is there any chance she forgot to close the windows when she went to sleep last night?” Emily looked over at Spencer, dark brows raised quizzically as she leaned over the table, skimming through the voicemail transcripts again.

Clenching his jaw, Spencer shook his head, recalling your promise to close the windows before the end of the night. “No, she’d never forget. She knows I worry,” although, after this, you’d never be able to chide him for worrying too much ever again. Sharing a knowing look with the brunette before him, “So, she’s been missing since last night, not this morning.”

The initial assumption had been that you’d disappeared at some point early in the morning, maybe on your way to your first meeting of the day, no one was entirely sure, but this confirmed that you had been missing for at least eight hours more than the first estimate.

A knock on the door garnered the attention of the team, each of them turning to see a field agent, “Uh, Ezra Buchmann is here to speak with you, he said he got a call from your tech girl.”

Hotch nodded succinctly, “That’s the co-worker who reported the case. Morgan, go see if he needs anything. Dave, let’s go check out the office building that Y/N had been working at.”

“Do you think she might’ve been caught up in something at work?” Spencer asked, following his team members with his eyes as they left the conference room.

The unit chief didn’t provide a forward answer, “I’d like to start checking off some possibilities. It’s been fourteen hours with no firm leads.” It wasn’t as optimistic as anyone had hoped, but Hotch shared a look with Emily before leaving the room.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Spencer turned to the evidence board, looking at the pictures of your hotel room, the water splashed around the rim of the bathroom sink, your phone charging on the bedside table, your wedding ring resting on the counter, and if he separated himself from the missing posters, he could almost convince himself that they were just random pictures. Almost.

Frowning at the blown-up images of partial fingerprints and a random CCTV shot from across the street, he recalled your voicemails. “I wasn’t busy,” he confessed to Emily. “When she called me, I wasn’t busy. I was doing other things, but I wasn’t too busy to answer the phone. I assumed that I’d have the chance to talk to her today,” he said, slightly leaning over the oak table, resting his fingerprints on the varnished surface in an attempt to keep himself standing.

Pursing her lips, Emily took a member for responding, “That’s not an outrageous assumption to make,” she tried to reason with a miserable man. “You’d never think something like this would happen.”

“Until it does,” Spencer continued. “We see it happen to people all the time, we’ve made a life of it, but I never thought it would happen to me. To her,” he maundered. If he had a dollar for every time he had heard the same sentiment from victim’s families, he’d never have to work another day in his life. “I did call her back when I got home last night,” he added, though, he wasn’t entirely sure who he was trying to reassure.

In an effort to comfort him, Emily reached out and patted his arm, “We will find her, Spencer.”

Dead or alive? He wanted to retort, but he bit his tongue, holding it in.

As a favor to him, in the hopes of providing him with some emotional respite, Emily had haggled with the field agent whose name was last on the chain of custody of your belongings. It wasn’t entirely proper for evidence to be released to family, but she offered to put her name on it in the interim.

She stayed with Spencer in the conference room, letting him keep your things nearby as she spoke with JJ and went through the information that had been acquired back at Quantico. The team now had your performance reviews at work and, according to JJ, your boss couldn’t say enough good things about you. While it was nice to hear, it didn’t bring them any closer to finding where you were.

Tracing the woodgrain of the table with his fingertips, Spencer eventually tuned the phone call out, instead wondering at what point he was obligated to call your parents. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice your phone was ringing in the evidence bag before him until Prentiss tapped him on the shoulder.

It was an unknown number, but that was a barrier easily blocked by Garcia with a quick search. The rest of the team watched as she blanched on the screen, “Uh, you might want to answer that.”

“Garcia, who is it?” Hotch asked, a hardened look on his face as he looked from the screen to the buzzing cellphone.

JJ frowned at Penelope’s monitor as if she couldn’t believe what she was reading, “It’s the SEC,” she responded.

Swiftly, Hotch answered the phone call, turning on speakerphone so the rest of the team could hear, “Hello.”

“Hello, may I speak with Mrs. Reid?” A male voice came through the receiver, everyone sharing the same wary look.

Focused on the phone call, Hotch shook his head, “This is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, you can speak with me.” He said, elaborating on the situation and rendering the SEC investigator speechless.

Unable to listen to the conversation any longer, Spencer got up, minding his movements as he walked out of the conference room. He checked the map of the building that was posted on the wall before walking up the stairs, making his way up to the roof of the building.

The dry heat of Dallas was about as miserable as everyone made it out to be, but it was hard to ignore the way it reminded him of home. Maybe he could call his mom – speaking with her usually brought him some semblance of peace. Though, she might have a negative reaction to the situation he found himself in. On the hot rubber roofing, he kicked around piles of dirt before leaning against the ledge of the building, craning his head back and closing his eyes when he heard the rooftop door open.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for any sort of discussion right now,” he complained, neglecting to spare a glance at whoever was disturbing his quiet – not exactly an Eden, but quiet.

He recognized Emily by the sound her boots made, even on the rubber that had been softened by the relentless sun, “I’d be more surprised if you were in the mood to talk.”

Impulsively, he rolled his eyes, “Did Hotch put you in charge of me?” He was glad his eyes were still shut, that way he couldn’t see the look on Emily’s face when he sniped at her.

“No,” she responded, gathering his attention as he brought his head down, squinting in the sunlight. “I thought you might want to know what just happened,” she nearly challenged, dark hair gleaming in the daylight.

Mentally kicking himself, he nodded for a moment, “You’re right, I just… I’m sorry.”

Taking a moment, Prentiss walked over, standing next to him, “I know.” She sighed, turning around and taking inventory of the surrounding buildings, “She was sent out here to look at some shady dealings of the company – insider trading, that kind of stuff. The main branch has an investigation open with the SEC, and they have been for the last few months. She was supposed to meet with that Ezra guy this morning to try and work something out. Hotch is talking to the CEO right now, he’s claiming he couldn’t tell JJ because it’s need-to-know,” Emily explained, focusing her eyes on the highway in the distance. “The SEC has an office in Fort Worth, they’re sending some people, and they faxed over all of the files.”

Setting his jaw, Spencer was the first to move to the stairs, the air conditioning providing an instant relief as he strode down the steps with Emily trailing close behind.

A field agent was standing in the middle of the office, stirring a cup of coffee, “Would someone really kidnap a woman over an SEC investigation?”

“We’ve seen much worse for much less,” Spencer mentioned in passing, swerving through the office of people until he made it back to the conference room. “Why would Y/N’s boss send her to investigate something that had already been brought to the SEC?” He posed the question to the rest of the team, taking one of the files that Morgan handed him and reading through the pages.

Rossi shrugged, nodding his head in the direction of the evidence board, “He wanted it handled quietly,” he posited. “Maybe he thought she could negotiate a solution and they could call off the securities investigation.”

Understanding where Spencer was going with his question, Hotch watched the board as if it was all coming together, “But, Y/N had no idea there was an open investigation. This was just another assignment to her.”

You had basically said as much in your voicemails, you went in, and you cleaned up fires across the country, and now you were caught in a blaze. “It was a setup,” Spencer concluded.

“And I know just who you need to talk to,” Garcia said over the phone, typing on her keyboard, “Check your phones.”

Ezra’s assistant folded immediately under the threat of being charged with interfering with a federal investigation. She had no knowledge of what her boss was up to, but she did know where the BAU could find him.

On the edge of the city, your company held an old office building that was slated for demolition. With the information from the assistant and some actions of questionable legality from Garcia, the team was able to nail down Ezra’s location and, hopefully, yours.

Letting SWAT lead the way, Spencer, Emily, and Morgan all made their way up yet another flight of stairs, hoping to be able to find you on the third floor. The SWAT commander signaled with his fingers to direct everyone in their respective directions.

There was a clang from across the floor and everyone froze in place, “Fuck you!” Your voice rang out, reverberating through the mostly empty office space. The yelp that followed would have sent Spencer clambering in your direction if it weren’t for Morgan grabbing his arm in warning. “I didn’t know,” you spoke again, your tone less obstinate as the misery you felt crept in.

Drawing their weapons, the team clung to the wall as SWAT gave orders over comms until the team came into view, lifting their firearms.

In retaliation, Ezra pulled you up, keeping a deadly tight grip on your upper arm as he kept you compliant by pressing the barrel of his gun to your temple. “She told me you’d come,” he said, nearly seething with rage like a rabid animal.

It seemed like a ridiculous moment to feel relief, but the fact that you knew the BAU would come for you ever so slightly lightened the weight on Spencer’s shoulders. However, whatever relief he felt was quickly banished from existence when his eyes met yours, you were covered in blood. It leaked in a steady stream from your nose and down your sleep shirt, he hoped that was the extent of the damage that had been done but based on the evidence of a struggle in the hotel room, he doubted it.

“Y/N, don’t look at him, look at us, look at Spencer,” Emily reasoned, noting the way you looked over at your captor, eyeing the gun in his hand.

You didn’t look scared, not to Spencer, though Emily had reasonably assumed that you would be in this situation. “Y/N, don’t,” Spencer said in a warning.

But his warning came too late, you had already swung your bound hands up, grabbing the weapon from Ezra as you kicked his legs out from under him. If Spencer hadn’t been so worried, he would’ve been impressed, but now he found himself in an entirely different situation.

“The safety’s still on,” you chastised as your now shaking hands undid the small latch, settling your pointer finger on the trigger as you stared him down.

SWAT seemed entirely dumbfounded, not sure how to go about the admittedly unique situation, so, it fell upon your husband to talk you down. Slowly, he holstered his weapon and stepped toward you, “Baby, put the gun down.”

You sucked in a harsh breath, “He set me up, Spence”

“I know, darling, I know,” Spencer said breathlessly, holding his hands out to stop any and all movement in the warehouse. “This isn’t the answer though, okay? You know this isn’t the answer.”

Your hands didn’t stop shaking, still bound together by the flex cuffs on your wrists as you narrowed your eyes at Ezra. “He set me up,” your voice broke at the sheer memory of the betrayal.

Distantly, you heard Derek tell people to lower their weapons, convincing the field agents that you weren’t a threat. “This isn’t you,” Spencer insisted.

Blinking as tears fell from your eyes, you gripped the handle of the gun, leaving your pointer finger hovering precariously on the trigger. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer.

Swallowing thickly, you looked down at Ezra, who was taunting you, trying to get you to pull the trigger. You fought against yourself, trying not to stare at Spencer because you knew as soon as you met his brown eyes, the choice would be made for you.

“Pull the damn trigger,” Ezra jeered, baring his teeth at you. This was it; this was the end. The FBI had the whole building surrounded. Even if he tried to run, the BAU would follow him, they’d chase him down, and they’d kill him themselves if it came down to it.

Slowly, you moved your thumb, re-engaging the safety before you lowered your arms, handing the gun off to Spencer. As he grabbed the barrel of the gun with one hand, he pulled you in with the other, passing the gun off to Emily so he could hug you tightly.

He pulled away for a moment, retrieving a pocketknife and using it to cut the flex cuffs from your wrists, letting the stiff plastic fall to the ground, and catching you when you practically threw your arms around him.

Your legs gave out from under you, and Spencer wondered how long you had been in this sweltering building without water, likely having used the last of your strength to stop Ezra. “Shh,” he hushed gently, “Let’s sit down,” he spoke to only you as he guided you to the ground.

Closer to you now, he saw more of the damage that had been done, the glazed look over your eyes, your chapped lips, and a bruise on the side of your head. “I knew you’d come,” you murmured dazedly, swaying ever so slightly, “I told him you’d come.”

“I know, I know,” Spencer reassured you, listening to the buzzing of people, hopefully EMTs, around you.

A hiccupping sob almost broke his heart, but he just kept his hold on you, keeping you upright and wishing your nosebleed would clot. “I almost killed him,” you mumbled.

But you didn’t, he wanted to respond. Part of him felt like it would’ve been fine if you had. You’d have gotten away with it, even, but he knew firsthand what it felt like to take another life. He wanted to believe that he had played a part in you turning the safety back on, but even he wasn’t sure.

“How are you feeling? Better?” Spencer asked, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed and taking your hand in his.

He squeezed your hand gently, allowing you to admire the way your wedding ring looked now that it had been returned to its rightful home. “Much,” you assured him, keeping your head resting on the mountain of pillows behind you. You had been cleaned up, stitches on your forehead, and a bandaged cut on your thigh, but the main concern was your dehydration. An IV delivered fluids to you while you sipped on a cup of water, waiting for your stomach to settle enough for you to eat something.

Spencer raised his eyebrows, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “Good enough to try something for dinner?”

You nodded apprehensively, “Something light?”

The smile that sprouted on his face was enough to convince you to eat. He offered to go talk to your nurse, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he left the room, leaving the door open so you could see him in the hallway.

A small chime got your attention, looking around for the source of the noise, you found yourself digging through Spencer’s bag, retrieving your cell phone from the leather satchel.

There was a scratch over the screen, but it still worked just fine following your skirmish in the hotel, you opened the phone to find that you had a voicemail. You tapped the message before bringing the phone to your ear.

Tuesday, 10:23 p.m.

“Hey love, I’m just leaving the office now. I’m sure they’ll be more receptive to you as you talk more, you can be very convincing. The weather is very dry in Texas, make sure you keep hydrated, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t answer any of your calls, we’ve been trying to prepare all of this paperwork for Strauss and time just got away from us. I miss you, maybe when you get home, we could talk about taking a trip. We could go see my mom. It’s been a while. Hm… I have to admit, I’m a little bummed you didn’t answer the phone, but I’m glad you’re getting sleep. I love you so much, sleep well.”

[jonathansthickthighs]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Yandere! Choso Kamo x Reader

Description: You start receiving sweet, anonymous love notes from a secret admirer which start turning perverted over time.

Trigger Warnings: 7.4k words, nsfw, college AU, yandere, afab reader, obsessive love, virgin choso, CREEP CHOSO, pervert choso, stalker choso, masturbation, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), choso is kinda pathetic, he calls reader princess, reader is lowkey into choso stalking her, dark themes

Not edited!

Masterlist

I wish you could grasp the exquisite beauty you hold in my eyes. ♡︎

Your eyes widened as you read the note placed in front of you on your desk, heat rushing to your cheeks. Surely this person must be mistaken, was this note really directed at you? You looked around the empty classroom wondering who could’ve possibly left this note on your desk and if they were even in this class. Even if you weren’t sure if the note was for you, suppressing the smile that was forming in your face felt impossible. Nobody had ever said anything like this to you before. Sure, people found you attractive, but the way this was written almost felt innocent— like there was no malicious intent behind it. The complete opposite of what most men that approached you were like.

You traced your hand over the neat calligraphy, feeling your heart rate speed up at the thought of someone truly thinking this about you. You couldn’t help yourself from reading it over and over, allowing your lips to curl up knowing no one was around to see you smiling at a paper like an idiot.

Unbeknownst to you, a tall, pale man with dark hair styled in space buns, stood there observing you discretely through the small window of the amphitheater door. Your reaction to his note caused his heart to leap with joy, the sight of your smile held the power to brighten even his darkest days. Your response to his message only inspired him to dedicate his time to write you more notes that would make you feel as flustered as he was by you when you spared him a single glance.

Choso stepped away from the door smoothly when he started hearing voices approaching from down the hall, pretending to be entertained by his phone. He glanced at the time on the screen, noticing it was almost time for class, but he opted to wait for everyone else to walk in before him. He always did this. Never had he been alone with you in the classroom even though he always arrived before you. He always stood behind a wall watching you stride gracefully into class earlier than everyone else. You were such a smart, punctual, responsible girl and he admired that greatly. He loathed never being capable of being alone with you, knowing he would be a blushing, horny mess— quite frankly, that’s not the first impression he wanted you to have of him.

Taking a deep breath, Choso walked in, making his way to his usual sit, two rows behind you, yet at a perfectly angle where he was able to contemplate your side profile. The moment he walked past you, your eyes locked. You offered him a small, cute smile and Choso wanted nothing more than to beam back at you, but instead he drifted his eyes away from yours, blushing in embarrassment. You exuded such kindness, always greeting him with the warmth of your pretty smile, even amidst the whispers and judgements surrounding his oddness. You kept smiling for him even when he didn’t smile back.

Choso was a very shy man. He didn’t know how to talk to girls, but that wasn’t something he was interested in doing before he met you. Dating had never been something he took interest in. Despite his brothers’ persistent attempts to orchestrate romantic encounters with women, they would always be left disheartened by Choso’s aloofness, proof of his disinterest in the affairs of the heart until he found you. None of them were like you.

The pale man proceeded his daily routine of observing you, not paying attention to what the professor was explaining. To him, this was his time to learn all your quirks and movements. His own personal course of you. Don’t you dare ask him anything on what the class is actually about because he’ll just answer with facts and observations about you. Like how you chew on the cap of your pen furiously when you don’t understand a subject or how you shift in your seat every few minutes because you just can’t seem to find a comfortable position to sit in.

He finds solace in studying your countenance, captivated by your vivid expressions, particularly your expressive eyes. The eyes are the windows of your soul, as they say. They unveil the depth of your emotions, he could tell when something was off about you by merely looking into your eyes— your feelings always danced within them. Being able to stare into your eyes without fear of rejection was one of his deepest desires in life. Feeling lost was a petrifying emotion, but losing himself to the never ending abysm that lived in your orbs was something he would never be apprehensive of.

You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. There isn’t a second in the day where you are not invading my thoughts. I wish I had the courage to speak to you.

Reading the note that was accompanied by a beautiful rose this time, you pouted, wondering why this person was so afraid to approach you. According to your own judgment, you gave off a friendly demeanor. If only you could figure out who was leaving you these notes. You weren’t afraid of approaching them first if they were too shy to do so themselves. You had been getting these notes for a month now and no matter how early you got to class this person always beat you to it. Deciding to form a plan to get this person to show themselves, you started brainstorming.

You could never begin to comprehend the depths of Choso’s love for you. That’s why you would never understand his reasoning when he followed that disgusting man that harassed you on campus. You would never understood why he had to pull the man to an empty alley and make him suffer. Choso hated that he had been at work when it all went down, he wasn’t there to save you and he would never forgive himself for it.

He was lucky you were able to scape him, but nonetheless you would’ve never went through that horrifying situation if only he had been there to protect you. He came to the conclusion that he needed to know your location at all times. That’s why he pretended to bump into you as you made your way to your other class, slipping an AirTag into one of the pockets of your bag discreetly.

He could imagine look of fear in your eyes when this man tried putting his grimy hands on you— it was enough to drive Choso to violence. He wanted to cause that scum the same fear he had caused his precious girl. The lengths he would go for you were unimaginable. What would you think of him if you knew he had stabbed that man to death that night? Even through his internal turmoil about your perception of him, he couldn’t help but feel proud at what he had done for you. From the moment he saw you, he knew he was capable of anything just to keep you safe.

One thing he felt grandly ashamed of was his perverted thoughts. To him you were much more than just a sexual object, but he couldn’t stop his cock from getting hard at the trivial thought of you. Never before had he experienced sexual desire this intense before, because of that, he was still a virgin at his age. Losing his virginity had never even crossed his mind before. Yet, after he met you, he couldn’t stop imagining how pushing his length into your wet, tight heat would feel like.

Every night he would spend it scrolling endlessly through your social media— which he didn’t dare follow— and staring at your beautiful pictures, smiling at him so sweetly. Choso would stare at them intently, thrusting his cock into his fist desperately, moaning your name, imaging you were riding him vigorously trying to make yourself orgasm on his throbbing cock. Thinking about it was enough to make him explode all over his hand and well built abs. Abs he had spent hours at the gym working on to look good just for you. He wanted— no needed you to find him attractive, if he wanted you to only see him he had to make sure he looked his best.

He had trouble containing his excitement when you were around, you simply were too beautiful for your own good. Hence the reason he stood outside the window of your apartment jerking his cock as he watched you rubbing your swollen clit through the window. He wanted nothing more than to climb through the damn window and attach his hungry lips to your clit, which was just begging for his attention. It wasn’t the first time he watched you masturbate, it was clear as day that you needed some help, his help. When you accepted to be his, he would gladly service you every day and night. It didn’t matter how many times as long as you were satisfied, he promised to put your pleasure above his always.

Choso massaged his throbbing cock thoroughly, spreading the precum that leaked from his sensitive tip all over his shaft. He covered his mouth attempting to muffled his pathetic whimpers from being heard by you. He continued watching as you inserted two fingers into your tight cunt, making Choso’s eyes roll all the way to the back of his skull. He wished he could be the one pushing his digits inside of you. He was sure they would feel better than yours, his were so much bigger, they would reach depths you’ve never reached before. Gods, your moans were the most melodious sound he’d ever heard, you were driving him insane— he wasn’t going to be able to hold it much longer. He needed you to come with him. He didn’t deserve to come if you didn’t.

Your facial expressions were the sexiest thing he has ever witnessed. You were simply godly, there was no other way to describe you. The beads of sweat forming on your forehead and coating the rest of your body gave you a breathtaking glow. He needed to taste your skin, kiss and run his tongue all over your delectable body. “Please…” Choso didn’t know what he was begging for, what he did know was how badly he wanted you. His twitching cock was proof of that.

Choso could see your face contort in pleasure. He learned by watching you so often that, when you made that expression, it meant you were close to reaching your peak. He felt relieved knowing that he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. “Let’s come together, princess. P-please, give this to me.” He uttered in a hushed tone, moaning your name lowly.

He shivered as you started fingering yourself at a quicker pace, arching your back. It was almost like you were inviting him to ogle at your heaving breasts, your nipples he so badly wanted to take in his mouth, noticeably perky through the thin fabric of your oversized shirt. Choso would make sure to provide you with a lifetime supply of his shirts, you would never feel obligated to buy an oversized shirt ever again.

Your jaw slacked open as you let it all out, making Choso undergo through a confusing sense of jealousy over your own fingers, yearning to feel you releasing your sweet nectar around his cock instead. Breath heaving, he fisted his pulsing cock a couple of more times, enjoying the sound of the lewd noises that came out of your perfect lips, before spraying an copious amount semen on the ground. He tugged on his cock a few more time, coming down from his high at the same time as you.

“Goodnight, I love you.” His voice barely a sigh as he whispered longingly. He tucked himself back into his pants swiftly before pressing a soft kiss into the tip of his fingers to then drag them it across your reflection in the window. He jumped recalling he should’ve been at his place by now, having lost track of time completely, knowing he had to prepare dinner for his brothers. So with one last look at you, he disappeared into the night.

When Choso arrived to the amphitheater he was surprised to see a note on your desk already. He quickly approached it, grabbing the note, recognizing your handwriting right away.

I want to meet you.

He stilled in place at the five words scribbled on the paper. You were actually interested in finding out who he was? Choso couldn’t decipher what your intent was, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted you to know your secret admirers identity just yet. He knew you were well aware of the swirling rumors about him, everyone painted him as nothing more than a freak. His demeanor remained reserved and he preferred solitude over companionship, which only fueled the disdain others had towards his persona. He wanted to believe you would never see him in such way, but there was always something stabbing him on the side, whispering the possibility that you, too, might harbor the same prejudices as them.

Choso opted to respond to your message briefly, accompanying it by one of your favorite treats before rushing out of the classroom, aware that you would arrive at any moment.

Just like that, exactly one minutes later you entered through the opposite door Choso exited from. You took notice of the note on your desk from afar and quickened your pace towards it in excitement. Smiling, you inspected the treat placed right next to it. How this person knew what your favorite things to snack on were, remained a mystery to you, but it didn’t bother you as long as they kept them coming. Grabbing the note and opening it, your smile disappeared only to reappear in Choso’s face as he watched your reaction. Your facial expression were just so funny to him sometimes.

No. ♡︎

“The fuck?” You exclaimed out loud in disbelief. No? Just no?! You pondered the ulterior motives of this individual. Had they just been playing a month long prank on you this whole time? Visibly frustrated, you plopped down into your seat, glancing at the note once again to make sure you were reading correctly.

Choso felt guilt wash over him when he saw you get genuinely upset, yet he couldn’t suppress the soft giggle that escaped his mouth at how cute you looked when you were mad. He despised that he made you feel this way, but he would reveal himself to you when he was ready and now, was not the right time.

Routinely, he lingered behind for everyone to enter ahead of him before making his entrance. Like he always did, he passed by your row, his eyes inevitably sought yours yearning for that connection he felt with them. This time, an impulse seized Choso, deciding to give you a tentative smile only to not be greeted by your own— mirroring the same coldness he always showed you each time you beamed at him. Bewildered and wounded, he hurried to his seat feeling like he just received a punch in the gut. Was your behavior due to your exasperation at the note or was it because you allowed everyone to taint your mind with the rumors about him?

The pain he felt by your indifference towards him lingered in his chest. Choso spent the whole lecture overthinking, anxiety building in his stomach and causing him to tremble. There was one thing he was completely certain of.

He hated when you didn’t smile for him.

Gloom filled the rest of Choso’s day ever since you decided to stab him in the heart with your frown. Today he had the evening free from his job and he decided to spend it staring at your pictures with a leaky, throbbing erection straining against his sweatpants. He didn’t deserve to ease himself after the events that transpired today. Staring at one of his favorite pictures of you smiling so prettily, he ran his thumb desirously over your face through the screen of his phone. He fantasized about the softness of your skin as he cupped your gorgeous face in his big hands before pressing his lips to yours. He ran his fingers over his chapped lips imagining how they would feel rubbing against your soft ones.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door of his room slam open, holding his phone to his chest securely before facing whoever forced him break out of his delusions. “Yo, bro where’s the—“ Yuji cut himself off when he saw the strange position his brother was in. “You’re not watching porn are you?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Choso.

This caused Choso to shake his head rapidly, with widened eyes. “W-what? Of course not, Yuji! What is it that you need?” He inquired eager to usher his brother out of his room with utmost haste.

Yuji smiled slyly, sliding into his bed. “What are hiding, bro?” He curiously interrogated his older brother, wiggling his eyebrows comically.

Choso chuckled nervously, his grasp on his phone tightened against his chest. “N-nothing, just scrolling, heh.” Way to go, Choso, you can never hide anything from your prying brother. This caused Yuji to snicker, throwing himself towards Choso, fighting him for his cellphone. “Don’t think I don’t see your raging boner, bro. Let me see what you’re looking at!” He joked, attempting to force his phone out of his iron grip.

“Why are you even looking there, brother? Gross!” Choso quipped back, his voice muffled by his brothers hand on his face. With a victorious laugh, Yuji suspended his arm in the air seeing Choso’s phone in his hand.

Yuji quickly unlocked his older brother’s phone because, of course, he had no passcode. “Whoa, she’s so pretty. Who is this?” He exclaimed in astonishment, scrolling through your profile, bamboozled at the fact that his virgin brother was finally taking interest in an actual girl.

“Yuji, please just give me my phone back.” Choso sighed in defeat, not wanting to talk to his brother about his obsessive love for you.

“Is she your crush?” Yuji questioned playfully, dragging the last word. Choso furrowed his eyebrows together, before nodding awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. His younger brother erupted in a boisterous laugh, rolling on his bed like a madman. “About damn time, bro! I was staring to think you were going to die alone— wait, why aren’t you following her?” Yuji inquired, confused by what he was seeing on the phone screen.

“I— we’ve never really talked.” Choso sheepishly admitted, heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment.

“Unacceptable. Let’s talk to her now!” Immediately after that suggestion, Choso ripped his phone from Yuji’s hand.

“Are you insane? She’s gonna think I’m a creep!” Which he was, but he didn’t need his brother knowing that.

Yuji shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, so help me understand. You don’t talk to her and she doesn’t talk to you. I bet you can barely look at her in the eye. How exactly do you plan on getting your crush to evolve, bro? Are you going to pine in secret forever? Do you think one day she’ll come to our door asking for your hand in marriage out of nowhere?” I wish.

“You know what?” Yuji snatched Choso’s phone back, smirking, before pressing the follow button.

“Yuji, no!” Choso pulled his space buns in frustration, falling back on his bed. He glanced at the watch on his nightstand knowing you most likely had your phone on your hand at this hour. There was no way you would miss the notification.

“Chill, bro, it’s done. You’re welcome!” Yuji beamed as he threw Choso’s phone back to his chest, his grin radiating with accomplishment as he rose from the bed, making his way out of the room with a satisfied stride. Choso groaned, covering his face with hands as he blushed furiously. Not even a minute after Yuji walked out of the room he felt his phone vibrate and Choso’s heart almost came out through his mouth when he saw the notification.

You followed him back.

The next day you walked through the door of the amphitheater with a gleeful spring in your step— your frustrations from yesterday seemingly dissipated. You decided you weren’t going to force whoever was sending you notes to show themselves. They have the right to remain hidden if that’s what they truly desired and you weren’t one to beg anyone for anything. If something was bound to happen with your secret admirer, it would.

As per usual, a folded paper laid on your desk, but you were quick to take notice of the white paper bag that stood next to it. You furrowed your eyebrows as curiosity took over you, almost skipping towards it. The note was brief and straight to the point.

Would you wear this for me?

As you blinked, a sense of puzzlement washed over you upon reading the note. Now they’re sending you clothing items? The bag, securely sealed with tape, offered no deterrent as you swiftly tore it open. Instantly, a surge or heat flooded your cheeks at the sight of its contents. You moved your gaze around, making sure no one was around before pulling out a box that held a pair of panties, colored a deep purple, made out of lace, see through material. Oh, but they weren’t just any panties, it was one of those vibrating underwear that was controlled by someone else with a controller.

You couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing right now. Out of all the endless note you had received from them, this was way out of the ordinary. None of them had shown anything sexual, not even innuendos. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t know wether to feel disrespected or severely turned on at the thought of your secret admirer controlling the vibrations during class. You bit you lips giving it some thought before nodding with determination. You shoved the panties back in the bag, advancing out of the classroom in direction to the restroom.

Choso watched in disbelief as you walked out, scarcely able to believe that you were actually going to wear his gift. Today, he had woken up feeling bold and after the confidence boost he got from you the night before, he had decided to procure something a little more special for you. After you followed him back, he saw it as a signal that you didn’t see him as everyone else did. Perhaps you two would be meeting sooner than he had anticipated, yet first, he wanted to test the waters.

He needed to assess the extent of your willingness to invest in him without even knowing his identity. He would’ve never guessed this would be something that excited him at this extent, his cock was fully erect as he eagerly waited for you to come back. He wished he could see the way those panties would cling to your hips and ass— something told him he would sooner than later. He had specifically bought that color to match his hoodie, which he was wore today in hopes you would wear his gift. And you did.

By the time you were back, everyone had settled to their seats already, including Choso. The moment you stepped into the classroom, he pressed the button in its lowest setting drawing a whimper from your lips, making everyone turn their attention towards you. Your eyes widened, swiftly offering an awkward, yet apologetic smile before ushering to your seat. While you were in the restroom you were able to catch sight of what the box the panties came in said— your secret admirer had failed to notice that the box indicated that the vibrations were controlled by a close-range remote control. Now you were able to confirm that your admirer was in this very class.

Choso smirked as he watched you take a seat, nobody else noticed, but there was a slight wobble to your walk— only a person that observed you constantly could differentiate from you usual stride. He proceeded to change the vibrations to the medium setting, almost chuckling out loud when he saw you jump slightly at the sudden change of speed. He could only imagine how wet your cunt was getting. Such a dirty girl, getting off to being controlled by a man she doesn’t even know in front of everyone. Would you be able to orgasm like this?

The pale man had to contain a hiss as he palmed his throbbing cock over his pants under the table, desiring nothing more than to give it to you on the spot. He could see the noticeable embarrassment on your face from his angle. Shifting on your seat every so often, covering your mouth with your hands as you attempted to take your notes and your eyes rolling back every time he changed the speed. He simply loved watching you look around, making sure no one noticed your odd behavior. Choso never knew this could be so hot.

Choso bit his lip, cock twitching in his now too tight pants, seeing your chest heaving up and down. He could tell you were close, so he decided to change it to the highest speed. He watched you lower your head, tightly shutting your eyes closed as you came, muffling your whimpers with your hand. Unbeknownst to you, Choso was in the same exact position as you as he released in his trousers by simply observing you.

He was thankful he decided to wear dark pants today.

I know I messed up, princess. I shouldn’t have given you the panties in the box. Now you know how close I am to you. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed watching you squirm in pleasure in your seat. This is embarrassing to admit, but you were so sexy that you made me come in my pants. I hate wasting my cum that way when it could easily be inside you instead.

I’ve been thinking about it and I changed my mind about us meeting. How about we meet at the fountain in the middle of campus? Tonight at 8pm. I bought you a little something to wear for me. ♡

You hadn’t stopped re-reading the note ever since you left class. The dark, purple summer dress he had bestowed upon you lay delicately on your bed as you wished time would hasten its pace, eager to encounter this mysterious individual. Excitement bubbled up in your stomach as well as fear, what if this person turned out to be less than benevolent? There was barely anyone around campus at that hour, there no one to save you. Memories of the time that man had tried harassing you flooded your mind, not wanting the past to repeat itself. Yet your longing to meet this person persisted more than your anxieties. That’s why you opted to pack a pepper spray and a pocket knife in your bag without forgetting to share your location with your best friend.

Noticing the time to leave was approaching, you quickly dressed yourself, spritzing one of your favorite perfume on yourself before stepping out the door.

Choso was a nervous wreck, having arrived an hour too early. He had been sweating bullets the whole time as he attempted to get ready, forcing him to endure three showers. How was he supposed to look his best for you when his body wasn’t cooperating? He had wore his best outfit for you and made sure his hair was neatly styled in his usual do.

Now, he was there, struggling to regulate his breathing, trying his hardest to control his sweating. He dreaded appearing like a disheveled mess when you finally met. He kept checking the time, despising how extended each minute felt. He scrolled through your account, attempting to make time pass by faster, entertaining himself with your pictures as he always did when he felt down. He took notice of the time, seeing it was already one minute past eight. Where were you?

You were merely a minute late, yet panic took over him, entertaining thoughts of being left abandoned or worse yet, fearing that something had happened to you on the way here. Rising to his feet, he scanned the dimly lit campus and there was no sight of you. This couldn’t be happening to him. He could almost feel tears forming his eyes and just as he was about to check your location, he heard soft steps approaching through the grass.

He turned around and there you were.

He gulped when he saw you were wearing the dress he had gifted you with so much love. You were so beautiful, his heart twisted in his chest. For the first time it was just you and him— with your knowledge, obviously. He stared into your eyes and you stared right back. Your eyes were wide in astonishment. Choso attempted to open his mouth, but no words came out.

“It’s you.” You stated, your voice almost a whisper. Choso’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, his gaze was fixated on your pretty face and he couldn’t possibly look away. So, so pretty— he wanted to snatch you away and hide you from the world, your beauty shinning for his eyes only. He probably had a lovestruck look on his face and he didn’t even care about hiding it anymore.

“Y-yeah.” That was all Choso could manage to utter out, wishing he had left his hair down so it would at least cover part of his flushed face.

“You’re a shy little thing aren’t you?” You giggled, taking a few steps closer to him. “You can’t even look at me in the eye for more than a second.” You added as you tried to catch his golden brown eyes, surrounded by what seemed like red eyeshadow, but in reality the crimson around his eyes was brought to you by his lack of sleep. Choso kept his gaze on the ground, feeling the back of his neck starting to sweat. “You were incredibly bold the other day, not what I would expect from a man like you. Consider me pleasantly surprised.” He blushed harder at your compliment.

“Y-you liked it?” Choso inquired attempting to meet your eyes again, almost whimpering at how close you were to him. He could feel the warmth radiating from your body.

“Honestly, I found it quite disrespectful.” You started, making Choso’s eyes open up as he started apologizing profusely, but he was cut short. “But that was only at first. The more thought I gave it, the wetter I got. I fucking loved it, Choso.” His dick shot straight up the moment he heard his name leave your lips, he had longed to heart it for longer than you could muster. You drew yourself nearer to him until your soft chest was pressed against his hard one. Choso could stop his eyes from glueing themselves to your chest, being squeezed against his own. He was rock hard.

“Now it’s my turn to be bold with you, Choso. Would you like to go back to my place and show me what you can do with that, instead of a vibrator?” You suggested, biting your lip as you cupped his member in your hand. The golden eyed man couldn’t hold his whimpers when he felt your hand on him. This was not the way he visualized this night, but there was no way he would reject your offer.

“Let’s go.” Choso agreed eagerly.

You grabbed his hand as you both started hurrying towards your apartment which was only five minutes away. He was certain he would never tire of the feeling of your hand on his. He stared at you face, not believing you were truly here with him. He couldn’t stop himself from slipping your hand from his and lifting you up into his arms, carrying you the rest of the way.

“Oh? You seem to know the way to my apartment, have you been stalking me?” You questioned playfully, poking his cheek. Choso stopped on his tracks, looking at your facial expression trying to find the reassurance that you were truly playing with him right now. “Jeez, Choso! Relax a little, I’m only joking. I wouldn’t mind you stalking me, I’ve always thought you were the hottest guy in class.” You winked at him, causing a genuine smile to creep to his red face as he continued his way to your apartment.

The moment you arrived at your apartment, Choso rushed to your bedroom with you still in his arms, placing you gently on your bed. He sat next to you, feeling the sheets of your mattress, reminiscing of all the times he had been in here without your knowledge. You placed a hand on his thigh softly and he flexed it as he felt himself tense up when you got closer to him. “W-wait. I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

You stared at him in bewilderment. “You’re being serious right now?”

“Yes. I-I’m sorry. I wanted to let you know in case I wasn’t… good. We don’t have to continue if you don’t want.” Choso apologized, starting to get up and walk himself out of your apartment, only to be stopped by you.

“It’s okay, Choso. I just can’t believe a guy that looks like you has never done anything like this before.” You admitted as you cupped his face gently. The fact that you found him this attractive made his chest inflate with pride— after all, he always tried to look his best for you. “Can I kiss you?” You asked for permission and he answered with an eager nod. You closed the space between you both, massaging your lips into his surprisingly soft ones. Choso placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze, making you open your mouth ardently for him to slide his tongue in. Your wet tongue felt like heaven against his, you kiss was skyrocketing him into an abysm of serendipity. He never thought kissing could feel this good.

You slowly pulled away, a string of saliva keeping your lips connected to one another. “That was amazing, [Name]. Thank you.” Choso gratefully expressed, a lovesick smile lingering on his face.

Your lips formed into a smirk before pushing him back on your bed, climbing onto his lap and crashing your lips into his once again. He responded right away by sliding his tongue across your bottom lips, desperate for you to allow him entrance into your wet cavern and you complied enthusiastically. As you shared the reverent kiss you started grinding you hips against the tent in pants, making him grunt into the kiss. You pulled away from him momentarily to lift off his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs. “Wow, you’re so strong, Choso.” You praised him, dragging your hand over them, making him hiss at the contact.

“It’s all for you, princess.” He admitted, daring to place his hand on your ass that was half covered by the purple fabric of the dress. “Gods, I’ve wanted to grab this ass for such a long time. You’re so damn breathtaking.” He added squeezing your globs firmly.

“You can touch me wherever you want from now on.” You replied shakily, feeling your panties damped more by the minute. Having him feel you up and grope you this way was making you inexplicably horny.

Choso moved one of his hand tentatively up your thigh until he reached your crotch, looking up at you for permission to touch that sacred place. You gave a nod, understanding exactly what he was asking for. Choso wasted no time, running his fingers over your clothed pussy. You shut your eyes, quivering as you felt him graze your sensitive clit, wanting for him to pull your panties off and touch you without a barrier. “Can I taste you?” You slowly unveiled your eyes to find Choso begging you with his eyes to allow him the pleasure of eating you out. You nodded zealously, getting off his lap, standing in front of him as he remained seated.

Choso pulled your dress off, slowly exposing you to him. “I can’t belive how beautiful you are.” He ran his eyes over your body, adorned by some cute purple, lace lingerie, making him grin adoringly. It seemed that you knew by now he loved that color on you. As much as he loved the way you looked in the little piece you decided to wear for him, he needed it off. Now.

He attempted to undo your bra, needing your assistance due to his lack of experience, making you giggle. He slowly pulled the bra off, revealing your naked breasts to him. He couldn’t help himself from ogling your breasts like a pervert, he had wanted to see you fully nude for such an extended period of time— he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

The curve of your waist was inviting him run his hands through it until they reached your hips and with that he pulled you closer to him, until your breasts were close enough to his face. He took one of your perky nipples in his mouth, sucking like he was starved while he pulled gently on your other nipple. He moved his other hand down to your cunt to rub on your clit over the thin fabric, while simultaneously stimulating your sensitive nipples. It was too much for you, moans flew out of your mouth unstoppably. You were incredibly wet.

He moved on to suckle on your other nipple, enjoying the taste of your skin thoroughly. He released your nipple with a wet pop, yearning to taste your juices on his tongue. He hooked his finger on your panties before pulling them down in a swift motion. He pushed you gently onto your bed. He spread your legs apart, groaning at the sight of your sopping wet cunt. “Such a pretty little pussy. I’ve always wanted to have my mouth right here.” Choso expressed as he placed a finger on your clit, always begging for his attention. “You don’t know how many times I’ve jerked off watching you touch yourself.” He let the confession slip out before he could stop himself.

“You’ve watched me touch myself? That’s so fucking hot!” You threw your head back as he started rubbing consistent circles on you clit. He decided he had teased himself long enough and it was finally time to taste you. He started by giving you a long lick, dragging his inexperienced tongue upwards from your entrance towards your clit, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he delighted himself with your taste for the first time. He stilled for a moment before attacking your clit with his mouth. With your guidance he was able to lick at just the right spot, earning breathy moans from you. You chanted his name as he licked your sensitive bud with no plans on stopping until you fed him your nectar.

“Don’t stop, Choso! Put your fingers inside me!” You squeaked out as he quickly complied, your walls squeezing around his fingers and he reached places you’ve never reached with your own fingers. “I’m gonna come soon!” You whined, squeezing his head between your thighs as you arched your back in pleasure.

He speed up the movements of his tongue, delighting himself with the taste of your pussy, thrusting his digits inside you at a rapid pace. He squeezed his eyes shut, moaning into your clit, knowing he was going to make you orgasm with his mouth just like he always desired. Once he felt you clench around his finger tightly he knew it was over. A scream of his name rippled your throat as you let it all out. You shivered as you came down from your, legs trembling in ecstasy. Choso stayed attached to your pussy with his eyes closed, body quivering, lapping up your delightful juices. You had once again made him come in his pants.

Choso stood up from his knees, unfastening his trousers, kicking them off his feet, desperate to finally feel you pussy. You stared at his cum covered cock, taking in his size. “You’re huge, Choso.” You said eyeing him lustfully. The lewd look on your face made his dick stand up completely straight even after having came just now.

You shimmied yourself onto the middle of the bed encouraging him to climb in with you. Choso complied, hungrily contemplating your body. He loved absolutely every part of it. Placing himself on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight, he pressed his lips against yours, missing the feeling of them. While you were kissing he started grinding his cock against your soaking wet heat. His erect member was in desperate need to be sheathed by your warmth.

Choso grabbed his member by the base, rubbing the tip against your entrance teasingly slow, spreading the cum that coated him all over your pussy. “Push it in, please, Choso.” You begged, voice wavering in desire. Hearing you plead for him awakened something different in him, he no longer felt embarrassed or ashamed about anything. You had accepted him. From this day on you had become officially his and he owned your pretty body. Nothing could stop him now, nobody would take you away from him.

Satisfying your plea, he pushed in, stretching out your tight cunt with his girth. He grunted in pleasure as you engulfed him in your heat, burring his head in the crook of your neck. Your jaw slacked open as you felt his immense size enter you, feeling him in your stomach as he bottomed out. “F-fuck, princess. You feel amazing, s-so tight!” Choso complimented, conscious that he wasn’t going to last at all. Your pussy clenched deliciously around him, a sensation he had never felt before. He knew you’d understand.

“Oh, Choso! You’re so deep inside my pussy!” You managed to babble out, already feeling drunk on his cock. You grabbed onto his space buns, undoing them so you could see him with his hair down and what a great decision that was. This man was gorgeous, his long raven locks falling down his face, giving him a more rugged look. You couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips at just the mere sight of him.

Choso whimpered your name, ramming his cock deep inside you at a steady pace. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, princess. I’m s-sorry.” He uttered out shakily, caressing your face lovingly. He started pumping his cock inside you at an inhuman speed feeling his orgasm approaching faster by the second.

“L-let me feel your cum inside me, Choso. Just like you said you wanted in your note!” Your words alone made him quiver out his orgasm with a loud groan of your name. He moaned, throwing his head back as your cunt milked his semen out of him, injecting it straight in your womb. You moaned enjoying the warm feeling of his spent filling you up. He continued thrusting erratically and sloppily, stilling inside you, wanting to feel the warmth of your pussy for a little longer.

“I love you so much.” He confessed breathlessly, keeping his head buried in your neck as he caught his breath, relishing the way your body molded into his perfectly. You were meant to be his. Deciding to finally pull out, he hissed as he watched your mixed juices drip out of your hole. This had been the best night of his entire life.

All thanks to you. ♡︎

[ham1lton]

kiss me thru the phone!

pairings - logan sargeant x law student!reader (no faceclaim).

warnings - nothing <3

summary - oscar has a new number. no problem! until logan realises he hasn’t been texting his friend his breakdown but rather some random girl. well… let’s hope you have some good advice at least.

— part four of my 500 followers celebration ♡ —

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liked by yourbffname, classmate2 and 237 others.

yourusername: coffee, studying and taking candids of my bestie. isn’t she so pretty when she’s in the midst of a academic breakdown?

view all comments

yourbffname: fuck u!!! that picture is kinda cute tho. can’t even see my dark circles 😩

-> yourusername: you’re v gorgeous to me!!!

classmate2: those cookies look amazing 🤩 we need to go for some!!

-> yourusername: yess!!! we should. after tomorrow’s lecture okay for you?

-> classmate2: yes!! 🫶🏼

yourmum: keep up the good work honey!! proud of you!! make sure to drink water and take breaks :D

-> yourusername: ofc!!! can’t wait to come home and see you!

yourchildhoodfriend: can’t believe u got into harvard. rory gilmore wishes.

-> yourusername: you’ll always be the lane to my rory babe <33

-> yourchildhoodfriend: imy!! come home soon!!

-> yourusername: i will!! me and u and the arcade?

-> yourchildhoodfriend: it’s a date! 🥰

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liked by yourbffname, lilymhe and 348 others.

yourusername: england was great. shout out to auntie k! oh, i also met some dude. anyone recognise him?

view all comments

logansargeant: he kinda fine 😩😝😜

-> yourusername: he is… too bad he’s mine 🙄

-> logansargeant: when she claims u in public 🤤 >>

oscarpiastri: never seen him before… he a little close to the camera though. if i was you, i’d run.

-> yourusername: good idea. i already got my nikes on.

-> logansargeant: 🙄🙄🙄😒😒😒👎🏻‼️

lilymhe: lovely meeting you babe!!

-> yourusername: yes u too!! need to hang out again soon <3

-> lilymhe: we can ditch our bfs again 🤩

-> alex_albon: ????? NO 😰

yourbffname: girl… did you get the goods?

-> yourusername: the lewis hamilton signed cap?? ofc. think of it as a thank u for motivating me to even do this. <333

-> yourbffname: omg i could kiss u on the mouth but i won’t bc logan might kill me. that last pic a lil scary…

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author’s note: PLEASE ignore the shitty photoshop job on the text messages. the app is usually use to make these texts decided to stop working so i need to find a new one 🙄 also if u guys liked this… u should read my other logan fics — summer lovin’ and manifest it! 😜

taglist — @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @luckyladycreator2 @alexmarie29 @cuteskz @purplephantomwolf @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @moviecritc @wildflowermarns @lichterfee @d3kstar @f1kenzzz @ravisinghs-wife @blupblupfish @demvnsriot @ajvaix @au-ghosttype @thehistoryone @raevyng @colmathgames2 @iloveyou3000morgan @namgification @formulaal @firelily-mimi @lemon-lav @67-angelofthelordme-67 @snapeeballsack (let me know via ask if you’d like to be removed!)

join my taglist to not miss a new post!

[sinofwriting]

Under His Wing - Jenson Button

Words: 1,177 Summary: Oscar had thought when Mark had taken his sister under his wing that it was a great idea. Turns out it was the worst idea in the world as he stares at a picture of Jenson and his sister kissing. Note(s): Reader is Oscar’s sister. Large age gap between her and Jenson. No part two will be written.

Masterlist | Support Me! | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration

Oscar had four sisters. All younger than him and all equally as annoying and he didn’t have a favorite. It would be unfair really. But if he was to have a favorite sister? It would be Y/N.

They were nearly twins, just ten months apart, but you’d never think so with the way she always tagged along with him everywhere.

When he moved to the UK for his racing career, six months later she joined him. When he moved out of boarding school and into a flat, she joined him. She joined him at races, at pr and press events, she always joined him. And thankfully when Mark became his manager in 2020 he recognized how important she was to him, really how important his family was to him, and as soon as she got her degree she was working with Mark.

Oscar had been beyond grateful, because she loved f1 just as much as he did, she just didn’t have an interest in driving. She did want a career in it and Mark had given her that opportunity without Oscar having to beg whatever team he was a part of to give her a chance or make her an employee of his, which would have not worked for either of them.

He’s beyond grateful for the chance that Mark gave her, for what Mark has done for him, for his career, for taking them both under his wing, but now as he stares at the photo on his phone, he wishes that he never let Mark Webber met his sister.

—

“Jenson.” She giggles as he presses kisses to her neck. He grins at the sound, nipping at the thin skin and reveling in her gasp. “Yes, sweetheart?” Her temple presses briefly against his as she gently shakes her head. “I want a kiss.” He can hear the pout on her lips, the wide-eyed look she has on her face, as she tries to get what she wants. Not, he thinks, that she really has to try and convince him to give her anything.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He murmurs, turning her so she’s facing him and sure enough, she’s pouting up at him, her bottom lip sticking out beautifully. “You want a kiss?” She nods. Leaning down, he kisses her, taking that bottom lip of hers in between his own. “Is that better?” “Much.” She sighs, making him kiss her again.

Releasing her, he watches as she goes over to her bag and pulls out of her phone. A joke is on the tip of his tongue about kids and their phones these days, but his dominant hand is pulling his own phone out of his pants pocket, wanting to check his messages before seeing if he can convince her to join him in the shower, a light sweat clinging to him from their hike.

His eyebrows furrow at the sheer amount of missed calls and texts he has and he quickly answers the next call.

“Mark, Is everything alright?” “Jenson.” “What’s going on?” He asks, shooting a concerned glance at Y/N, whose looking at her phone, confused. “Are you in California right now?” “Yes.” “Are you with anyone?” His eyebrow raises, “no. Why?” “So, Y/N Piastri, Oscar’s sister and my assistant isn’t with you.” Jenson freezes. “How did you?” The older cuts him off. “You two were spotted on a hike, kissing.” “Fuck.” He drags a hand over his face while the one holding his phone, pulls the device away from him ear and mouth a bit. “Sweetheart, we’ve got a bit of a problem.”

“Does the problem have anything to do with why Oscar has nonstop been calling and texting me?” She asks, moving back over to him and he winces as she watches her let another call from Oscar just ring through. “We got spotted on our hike.” He tells her, as he puts his phone on speaker. “Mark called as well.” He doesn’t mention any of the other names he also saw littering his phone screen, that could wait until after. “How bad is it?” “PR wise?” Jenson’s nose wrinkles, face twisting in disgust at how that’s the first thing Mark says, considers, even though it’s his job in some sort. “Not too bad. There’s a lot of shock, questions. It’s more Oscar I’m worried about.” “He’s not happy.” “Happy?” Mark laughs. “He apparently went ballistic seeing the photos. Lily called me, she was with him when he saw. Last update I had from her, he was trying to get Max to give him his private jet so he could come to California to kill Jenson. Since y’know he found out through twitter that his little sister is doing something with a guy twice her age.” “You introduced us.” Jenson protests. “Yeah, because I thought you’d be good friends. Not,” he pauses unsure of what to call it. “Dating?” She fills in for him. “Yeah, dating.” He sighs. “Did anyone know before this?” “No.” They both answer at the same time. Mark sighs again. “Alright, well it’s time to start talking. You need to call your own manager Jenson, Y/N call Oscar, we can handle our side of the PR after Jenson gets his figured out.” “Got it. Sorry, Mark.” “Don’t worry about it, kid.”

Before Jenson can say anything the call is ended and he’s staring at his phone, bemused. “I think he likes you more than me.” She laughs. “Well, do you blame him?” He quickly shakes his head. “No. Be stupid to not like you.” He dips his head down, wanting a kiss, but she steps away, shaking her head. “No, not happening. You can get a kiss after you talk to your manager and I talk Oscar out of killing you.” Jenson winces, that was not going to be a fun conversation. “I’m alright with a bit of light maiming.” “Jenson.” “Sweetheart,” he chuckles at the serious look on her face. “He’s going to want to kill and hurt me. I’m sure your mum and dad are the same way. I’m sure next time I see Mark I’m going to get a nice elbow to the ribs. It’s just what’s going to happen. I made my piece with that after our fifth date.” She pouts and he can’t help but pull her into a hug. “I don’t want you to get hurt and I don’t want anyone fighting about this.” “I know.” He kisses the top of her head. “And we can hope that it doesn’t happen, that it goes more smoothly than how it feels currently, but we both knew that us being together would rock the boat.” “I think we need a bigger boat.” He snorts. “Maybe. Now let's make our calls, get them done and over with yeah?” “Yeah.” She sighs, pulling away from him before smiling and then she’s pouting up at him again, just like earlier. “Kiss?” He shakes his head, but brushes their lips together for just half a second. “There ya go, sweetheart. Little something to tide you over.”

@crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @gothgirlez @namgification @KimmiB13 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou300morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @tallrock35 @casperlikej

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Just a little something something for you guys...as a treat😈

When Simon's away for a while on deployment, it can get lonely. He's knows by the way your texting, when he gets the chance and can text, that you are missing him like crazy. You tell him how you can hardly wait till he returns, how your body is just aching for him something fierce.

And fuck his aching for yours too.

If he could hop on a plane, he would in an instant just to get back to you. Unfortunately, that's not something available to him at the moment.

But that doesn't mean there's nothing for him to do.

Simon knows his baby needs something to take the edge off, something to tide over that insatiable appetite for him until he can come home and fuck her proper the first chance he can get. You never asked for it, but he knew you wouldn't mind.

Ding

Your phone goes off. It's late, but youre no stranger to staying up well past dark; sometimes that was the only way you'd get a minute to talk to Simon when he was away across the world.

You check your phone. It's a text... a picture...

At first glance at the small icon on the lock screen, the image is kind of dark so you have to click on it to bring it up and when you do you nearly faint.

The caption reads: “Gotta be stealthy so they don't fuckin' catch me, but this one's for you sweetheart."

Simon is clearly propped up in his cot, his legs splayed open, shirt off. All that you can see is his thick torso with it's small speckling of light colored hair across his abs. The belt and zipper of his pants are completely undone and the waistband flung open. In one of his meaty hands he has a hold of his cock, already swollen with a little glistening at the top caught in the low light - most definitely a product from thinking of you.

You have to swallow to keep the spit from dribbling down out of the corner your mouth. Instantly you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, burning through your face as the blood pools there. It feels like you are going to pass out.

He's done it, he's taken your breath away in an instant.

Not even recovered from that glorious image your phone dings again, this time downloading something for a few seconds. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath caught in your lungs, as you wait to see what he's done now.

Ding

It's downloaded. This time it's a video...about a minute long. Your shaky, excited finger instantly clicks play.

"Mmmm..." his breath groan hits your ears as the vision of him stroking his length plays across the screen. His voice in hushed, clearly trying to be as quiet as he can while still making sure you can hear his words. "Fuck darlin', I wish you were here... rather have that sweet little pussy 'round me than my hand."

You've stopped breathing, literally; you could hear a pin drop in the room. The video of his abdominal muscles contracting and releasing as he continues to stroke his cock is all you can focus on now. Looks like he's in the middle of things.

He groans again, his breathing getting faster. "Fuck, I miss ya luv. It's been hell not having ya near for this fuckin' long. Nearly rippin' a hole in my goddamn pants from being so fuckin hard. I swear... gonna absolutely wreck ya when I get back. Don't even bother wearing any panties cause they're gonna get shredded off ya. Nothin', and I mean fuckin' nothin' is gonna keep me from buryin' all this in ya the fuckin' second we're alone. I wanna make you cum so fuckin bad baby."

The video fades out amongst the sound of another low, gravely moan and your sanity is gone. Dear God you were a lucky one tonight. You have to take several minutes just to relearn how to function properly again so you can text him back.

Before you can do that your phone goes off once more.

Ding

One final message pops up on screen: "Think of me later when you cum, sweetheart..."

Oh, you would, you would. And maybe just to be nice...you'd send him something back too.

Part 2: