#bc like normally as long as I’m not running my hands over or looking at spots on my skin I’m fine

[singlethread]

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[pansyfemme]

im. 💖

[simpjaes]

renaissance man (p. js)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion.  or the one where jay is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and well, other things.

minors dni!! | pls reblog to show your support!

WORDCOUNT― 14.6k

PAIRING― park jongseong x afab reader 

CONTENT― fluffy comfort smut, strangers to lovers like immediately, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening. 

!!ATTENTION!!― read this before? that’s because I run two blogs and like to re-vamp fics i’ve previously written for other groups! [@/ncteez is likely where you’ve read it from. THAT IS ME!!!] 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jay!!!![i am not of this belief, i think his cock is fat and huge], he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship,  unprotected sex, sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to pretend he wouldn’t want that, back scratches (sexual)

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing. 

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips. 

“I’m fine, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle your chosen toy without help.

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long that he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo. 

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond. “I think I know my body well enough and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jay’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys, he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows what everyone in this town’s kinks are after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets…he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly. 

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing. 

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains. 

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet timid man who shows up with pans of food for events. 

The guests seem to love him and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being. Someone you’d wanna bring home to mom, some might say. 

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion. 

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. You know, the really fucking huge one. 

 Upon meeting his eye again for the first time, he could tell it really is you, simply because of the way you furrow your brow as you recognize him. 

Jay couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him. Because it’s honestly pretty common to see someone nervous or uncomfortable while buying items far less telling than the one you bought.

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family and by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to explain what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance. 

He follows you down the line of dishes, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed, or perhaps even an attempt to ask you not to snitch on where else he works to make his money. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from. 

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another. 

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a crooked grin. 

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jay. See you around.” 

Heading away from the tables of food and toward the table that contains all of your favorite cousins, you are immediately bombarded with a raised brow from one of them. Ah, nosy. 

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing at the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures. She doesn’t quite catch the way Jay’s eyes flicker back to you, over and over again, repeatedly. 

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.” 

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jay? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone. 

His personality seems different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks its funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills before speaking to him again. 

“Just how many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. The brief break he’s taken from stealing glances so he could actually do his jobs appears to be the time you feel the need to finally approach. Still, he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down. 

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point. 

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not or may not be to like about him. You can’t tell if it’s good news or bad news that you’re not finding anything to raise any red flags. 

He’s bold, confidence, charming, clearly has a decent work ethic– 

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster. We have tons in stock if you wanna–” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him without alerting your family of a new future husband or something. 

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes. 

He pauses, easing up at the way you’re just as cheeky and playful as he is, despite being surrounded by your family. It’s mildly inappropriate, but it’s making his shift go by quickly. You’re making his shift enjoyable today, so he continues. 

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again with a brief pause, knowing the size of that dildo you bought by heart, and fully aware that it probably ripped you in half if you really managed to put that thing anywhere inside of you. “Correction, they should be worried.” 

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.” 

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to take time from your family reunion to have a discussion about your plastic cock intake anyway.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare it down instead.  

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him before swirling around and walking away thinking hard about the fact that…yeah, he might actually see you sooner than he thinks. 

Honestly, maybe within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale this time. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Unfortunately for you upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. You drop your head to the steering wheel in a sigh and annoyed grunt.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny Sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you’ve been here at your parent’s house? You refuse to answer your own question.

And just as you go to accept your defeat, preparing to head back inside and take the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears. 

That savior is none other than Jay,  walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise. 

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield. 

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jay shakes his head apologetically. 

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door. 

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m not too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well. 

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible. 

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jay nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock and probably already hit the sack without even cleaning up the yard.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jay looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window. 

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff. 

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Knowing that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in this driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything. 

Jay unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. 

Of course it is. 

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?” 

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him. 

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about said car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, I couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jay pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question. 

“Was that too forward to ask?” 

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does. 

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.” 

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…right?” You comment quietly, glancing at him. 

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.” 

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.” 

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening. 

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?” 

Oh fuck, he’s right. 

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you. 

And you hear him echo your name, asking where it is that you’d like to go. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. At least, not without hanging out a few times first. 

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question. 

“Where to then?” 

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him. 

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.” 

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot. 

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn��t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over. And in all fairness, you’ve been trying to find a reason to slip in your relationship status to him. 

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote. 

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine. 

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it. 

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone. 

“You know, normally people don’t buy toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.” 

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass. 

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase. 

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a really high sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip. 

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again. 

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes at him, trying not to stare at him for too long because goddamn is he handsome. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus. 

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Pocket 2, and Jessica.”

“Jessica?” You raise a brow despite the sarcastic banter, wondering if maybe that’s based on his ex girlfriend or something. 

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile. 

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too. 

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable. 

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.” 

You nod energetically with a laugh. 

“Variety is good.” You continue, not mentioning the array of toys you have stashed away. 

“Yeah, I think experimenting with different things is good. I only really liked the two I kept though, I guess.”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him because you were looking a little too fondly at that little scar on his nose, the birth mark on his neck, the way his lips crease when he swallows his drink and– yeah, you definitely glance away.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He comments, tapping the cup against his lips and looking at you.

You’re a little stunned by him, never having met a man so open to speaking like this, with a woman he barely knows no less. 

“Okay, enough about my dildo. I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Oh? Embarrassed? Since when?” He jokes at first. “What is it then?”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, seeing as how you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, studying the way you make yourself a bit smaller compared to just minutes before.

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a doll with a very normal dick?”

Jay fucking snorts. How mundane. 

Unfortunately for you though, Nope. 

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got fem tantaly dolls and all sorts of blow up dolls but he’s never brought in just like, a torso with a cock, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You shrug. 

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, that pretty smile you’ve seen time and time again echoing the most attractive laugh you think you’ve heard in a long time. This time, his smile doesn’t fade as the seconds pass, no. He’s unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more. 

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get dick-stabbed where they don’t need it mid orgasm.”

You glare. 

“Wait, no, because it actually hurts.” You frown at him. “I just wish your shop catered a little more to women who just wanna ride a dick without the dangers of riding said dick.” 

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your–” He pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now. “Um…” He trails off uncomfortably, unintentionally adjusting himself in his jeans by spreading his legs slightly against your couch. 

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off. 

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself telling me that.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, knowing that all you need to do is point out that he got flustered to shut him up. You opt not to because still, the two of you barely know each other. Instead, you opt to laugh along with him, letting your gaze fall back to studying all of those features he has that you didn’t quite notice before.

While you did notice he was handsome before, it’s not like you paid that thought any mind. There are a lot of handsome men out and about after all. It only starts to matter when they allow you to get close enough to appreciate it more. Not to mention, in your experience at various sex shops, most employees of them are mundane and nonchalant. Some are strange old men, or cool old women. Jay though? Jay.

Hmm…how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his sharp jawed smile and pretty eyes. The little marks and celestial kisses against his skin that shows you of a life he’s been living. He feels…warm. Like everything about him looks comforting, smells comforting, sounds comforting. And now, even compared to when you met him at the shop, even at the reunion just this afternoon…he’s so much more handsome in this moment. 

Learning his personality, hearing his voice say your name, having him take the time to not only help you but befriend you? 

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… you don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm. 

“You know, Jay,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening. 

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off. 

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second. 

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?” 

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed. 

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time. 

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.” 

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad. 

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out. Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential. 

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help the fluttering feeling in his chest.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It's almost two in the morning by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence. 

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you. 

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you. 

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again. 

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness for some reason, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite meal. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction. 

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance. 

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.” 

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.” 

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at an ungodly hour and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership. 

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange? 

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.” 

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically. 

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce. 

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges. 

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.” 

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?” 

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you. 

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer. 

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows. 

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much. 

“A man.” You dead-pan, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.” 

You snort. 

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.” 

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was. 

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond. 

“I can imagine so, yeah.” 

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together. 

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so. 

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink. 

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment. 

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other. 

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, hovering just over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his. 

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would. 

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily. 

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly. 

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile. 

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss. 

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him. 

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you. 

“Was I wrong though?” 

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out on the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you. 

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes. 

“Actually, say whatever you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to sit against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in. 

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it would be stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him. 

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him. 

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?” 

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jay seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now. 

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day. 

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops, realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.” 

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room. 

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn and face him once he comes inside. 

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable. 

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change. 

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you. 

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table. 

He has no idea what the fuck you’re referring to until he sees it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jay ticks his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer. 

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him. 

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is. 

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now. 

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys. 

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind. 

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually. 

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like? 

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?” 

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer. 

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?” 

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you. 

“With you? Looks like it.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you. 

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before. 

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier. 

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your arm and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky. 

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you left your headlights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died. 

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way. 

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing your fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his hair hangs in front of his eyes. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you. 

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair. 

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.” 

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that the curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too. 

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing along your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you. 

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too. 

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back. 

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks even more pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension but permanently arched in a way that makes him appear constantly moody. 

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over your head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you–” He smiles knowingly, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs. 

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude. 

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on one hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your core. “No promises now, though.”

You smirk, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your chuckle off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss. 

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again. 

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands. 

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit. 

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering. 

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control. After all, toys can’t give you the foreplay that he can.

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your waist, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right in the center of your mess  before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again. 

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Goddamn, if this is how he sounds when he’s with a girl then you feel more lucky than before. You can’t imagine the amount of women who have fallen completely in love with this guy. And, before you can actually respond to him with another cheeky comment, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly between your legs, cupping you there and even scooting you up the bed with the force of how he grabs you.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit. 

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly. 

You can feel the fabric stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good, if you’re being honest. 

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers. 

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.” 

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want. 

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties. 

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally. 

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you. 

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?” 

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?” 

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the words to just tell him yourself. 

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bear to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure. 

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment. 

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing him a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him. 

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on his fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance. 

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them as you cling to him.

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have your legs shaking. 

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it. 

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want. 

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you. 

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now. 

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs. 

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs. 

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it. 

“Pull it out.” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want. 

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off. 

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head. 

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering. 

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your needy cunt. 

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually. 

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides. 

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you? 

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist. 

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him. 

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check. 

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds? 

“Jay,” You say, slightly out of breath. 

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen constantly pressing into it. He could have gotten off from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long too, but now? 

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately. 

“Shit,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.” 

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into you and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already cum  just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him by explaining how good your pussy feels, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.”

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your pulsing walls, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy. 

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest. 

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, he’s still on the same page with you. 

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace. 

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jay though, he’s in love with the idea that you’ll leave a mark. 

Obsessed with the sting of it, really, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this. 

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner. 

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit. 

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily. 

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–” 

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation. 

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely full. Jay really is something, or, someone. 

The two of you release together, and his lips fall slack just like yours do. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop. 

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jay is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess. 

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work. 

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for an evening at the sex-shop. He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you. 

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

[luvyeni]

I LOVE YOU ,, 서창빈

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ boyfriend!changbin x fem!reader wc. 1.5k

genre. smut , angst

𓄷 includes ... oral ( fem receiving ) , unprotected sex , binnie kinda rough

request. changbin, miscommunication/lack of communication on both ends, it’s a newer relationship, reader overhears changbin being rather rude talking about someone and reader assumes it’s about them, which leads to reader being closed off and the angsty part, but they make up bc changbin is determined to fuck some sense into reader

「 authors note 𖹭 」 i hope you like it , miscommunication trope isn't my best suit.

❪ masterlist! ❫

you wer under the impression that you and your boyfriend were doing good; you'd been in a relationship for about 5 months now and sure you had a few insecurities; but changbin always said they didn't bother him and that he'd help you through it. you thought he was perfect, that you were still in the honeymoon phase— you wouldn't be meeting his friends at a party if you didn't plan on being with him for a long time.

so you could imagine the heartbreak you felt when you excused yourself to use the bathroom; only to return to hear your boyfriend talking about you; and not in the good way you'd hope. “they're so annoying, i told them not to come.” he said. “don't say anything when she comes back, she's just gonna get upset?”

you wanted to cry; you wanted to go home, you wanted to hit him over and over again until he felt the same way you did, felt the hurt you did. “yn did you find the bathroom?” chan asked , you nodded sitting down on the couch. “here baby.” the man you swore was your boyfriend handed you a drink , you pushed it away , shaking your head. “i don't want it.”

changbin was confused; this was something you normally drank, why didn't you want it? “i’ll go get you something else then.” you turned away from him, he got up, making his way to chans kitchen. “changbin is that you?” he internally sighed at the voice. “i've been looking for you all night.”

“i told you not to.” he said , the girl smiled. “c'mon binnie , you know you still miss me.” he rolled his eyes. “no i don't, i actually told you not to come.” her hand come up to his bicep. “i know your girlfriend isn't doing it right.” he felt himself getting angry, how dare she talk about you in such a way. “changbin?”

he pushed the girl away from him, turning to you. “baby.” he said. “is this why you didn't want me to come?” you scoffed. “so you fuck around with other girls?” he didn't know what you were saying, he invited you. “yn listen let's not make a scene.” he said. “let's go upstairs and talk?” you weren't having any of it. “take me home.” you turned away from him, walking to the door.

changbin barely had time to say goodbye to his friends, grabbing both your jackets, running after you. “can you slow down and just let me talk?” you turn to him with a huff “open the door.” you said coldly. “now.”

the ride back home consisted of him trying to talk and you telling him to fuck off; looking out the window until you got home, you got out of the car, slamming the door, not even bothering to wait for him as you went up to the apartment. “will you please just listen?”

“if you want to break up then go ahead.” you said flatly. “what, I don't want to break up, why are you saying this?” he said , following you into your bedroom. “oh really so you just tell people im annoying and you let pretty girls feel you up while I'm there for fun?” you began to pack all your things. “i’m leaving.”

he stood there trying to put it all together; until it clicked. “you heard what i said?” you scoffed. “yeah, i did.” you picked up your bag. “i'm leaving.” you walked past him, he grabbed your arm to stop him. “let me go.” he didn't listen, holding you. “no, you're gonna listen,” he said. “i wasn't talking about you.”

“yeah sure.” you scoffed. “i wasn't, i was talking about my ex, the girl who you saw touching me, i was talking about her , not you.” he said. “so you just let her touch you like that?” he shook his head. “i was about to push her away when you came over.” he was gently holding your wrist now. “you told them not to say anything when i came over , i heard you, what were you trying to hide?”

“i didn't want you to know , cause i didn't want you to be upset that she was there.” he grabbed the side of your face. “is that why you were upset?” he caressed your cheek, you nodded. “why? i told you before, there's nothing to get upset about, i love you.” he kissed your lips softly, pulling away, pressing his forehead against yours. “i wanted to hit you.”

he smiled. “you did?” you nodded. “you made me so mad.” he kissed your lips again, this time with much more hunger, you whimpered against his lips, he pressed you against the wall. “how many times to i have to prove my love to you before these insecurities go away baby, i'm here for the long run.” he lifted you against the wall. “do i need to fuck some sense into you for you to understand?” he lifted your shirt up and above your head throwing it, your skin was hot against his. “i guess that's what i have to do.” he smirked.

he walked you over to the bed; gently tossing you on the bed, ridding himself of his pants and shirt, climbing into the bed with you. “let's get you out of this.” he pulled your skirt down, leaving you in your bra and panties. “perfect.”

he wrapped your legs around his waist , kissing down your stomach. “b-binnie.” you moaned as he kissed your sweet spots on your stomach. “i’ve barely touched you and you're moaning my name.” he pulled down your panties. “this pretty pussy, i must be neglecting her so much haven't i?” he kissed your cunt. “made my baby feel insecure?” he licked your cunt. “fuck binnie.”

you yanked at his hair, pushing his head further into your cunt, grinding your hips up. he always ate you out like it was first thing he'd eaten in a while, he loved to get messy, the taste of your sweet pussy dripping on to his tongue, it was adding; he loved you, but he probably loved eating your pussy just a much.

“fuck binnie im gonna cum.” moaned, his hummed against your folds, holding your thighs open as you came, you desperately tried to pull his head away from your sticky folds. “binnie.” he hovered over the body, toying with your clit with his thumb. “you want me inside you pretty?” you nodded. “please binnie, i need it.”

he cursed, cock twitching in his underwear. “you need me baby?” he said, “you weren't acting like that earlier.” he gritted through his teeth. “ignoring me when i was talking to you, you think you deserve my cock baby?” you whimpered. “i-i'm sorry binnie.” tears wielding in your eyes. “you sorry pretty?” lining his fat cock with your entrance. “i can't say no to my pretty baby.”

he pushed his cock inside you. “fuck.” he groaned as you opened up, allowing him to push himself further inside your warm cunt, until he felt his tip bumping against your cervix. “so tight baby.” he pulled out, slamming back in , you moaned out in pleasure. “binnie!”

he lifted your hips up; fucking into you. “i told you over and over.” he cursed, sweat running down his forehead. “i love you and i would do anything for you.” he moaned. “and you don't listen.” he hit that one spot that had you seeing stars. “guess you don't really listen unless my cock is inside you baby do you?”

he fucking into like he had something to prove; he wanted to feel how much he loved you, and what you did to him. “fuck gonna go deeper baby.” he held your legs pushing them up into your chest, basically folding you in half as he stuffed cock into your, hitting a ever deeper angle. “yeah, fuck feel how deep i baby?” he cursed. “stretching your pussy out.”

“fuck binnie.” you screamed. “i'm gonna cum!” he stopped moving. “not until you tell me you love me.” he whispered into your ear. “binnie please.” you whined , your orgasm slowly disappearing. “baby.” he slowly grinded his hips, but it wasn't enough. “just say it baby and you can cum as much as you want on my cock.”

“i-i love you.” you stuttered out, he smiled. “i love you too.” he started his movements up again, he leaned in kissing your lips, red from biting them too much. “cum for me baby.” he felt you clenching around his cock. “binnie fuck!” your orgasm triggering his. “gonna cum baby , where can i cum?” you moaned out. “i-inside.”

he hissed, thrust becoming sloppy as he came inside you, his warm seed covering your insides, you sighed as he pulled out , his cum slipping outside of your hole, making him hard all over again. “think this pretty pussy can give me one more round?”

“you do know that i love you right?” he said after he finished massaging your body, climbing into the bed, hold you close to him. “you don't understand how much i love you.” he kissed the side of your head.

“and i’ll spend everyday proving it to you, even if i have to fuck it into you every single night.”

©LUVYENI

[puckinghischier]

Sunburnt

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn

notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺

[3.3k]

(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)

You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.

Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.

You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.

You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.

Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.

Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.

Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.

Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.

This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.

You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.

You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.

“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”

Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.

“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”

Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.

“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.

“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.

You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.

Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.

“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.

“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”

Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.

“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”

You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.

“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.

“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.

Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.

You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.

“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.

Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.

He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.

“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.

Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.

You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.

The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.

You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.

“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.

You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.

You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.

“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.

You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.

“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.

“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.

“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.

Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.

The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.

At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.

“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.

“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.

“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.

You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wonder what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.

You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.

You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.

“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.

You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.

When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.

You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.

You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.

You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.

Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.

“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.

“Oh Lovey…”

You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.

“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.

Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.

Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.

You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.

Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.

“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.

He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.

You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.

“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.

“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.

He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.

“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.

You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.

After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.

“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.

“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.

Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.

He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.

“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.

“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Jack, I’m still hungry.”

“Do you want me to go grab something?”

“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.

Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.

Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.

He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.

“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.

You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.

“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.

“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.

“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.

“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.

“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.

He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.

Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.

He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.

“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.

“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.

He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.

You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.

“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.

“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.

“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.

“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.

Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.

Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Safer to Kiss (part 2) - Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

read part 1 here!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 3236

Summary: the day after drunkenly kissing your best friend and coworker, Spencer Reid, the BAU catches a case. Lots of talking with other members of the team, general group dynamic chaos, and ✨Pining✨

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, normal Criminal Minds violence, maybe some mild cursing? Mostly just pining teehee

A/N: thank you so much to everyone who interacted with part 1! I am so pumped about this lil series, and part 3 is already started 🙈 I love love LOVE hearing from you guys, it makes me so happy and inspired to continue writing. 🥹 also not my gif, all credit to the owner bc LOOK AT HIS LIL FACE

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Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Suddenly the three glasses of wine and 2 glasses of champagne were null and void, because you felt completely sobered by the time your mouth pulled away from his. The reality of the situation hit you like a bus - you, in a drunken stupor, had stupidly, idiotically, irreversibly kissed your best friend. Right on the lips. There was no excusing it as a friendly peck on the cheek.

Your entire face felt hot as you pulled away, and as Spencer’s hands retracted to his own space. You felt wobbly - okay, maybe you hadn’t sobered up - and when you were once again leaning against the railing of the stairs on your apartment building’s stoop, you blinked a few times.

Spencer blinked a few times, too, as if to process what had just happened. He’d tasted like red wine, which you saw he’d only had one single glass of tonight, and spearmint gum. The combination reminded you of spring.

Your best friend tasted like spring.

Your eyes widened, buggy, as if they might pop out of your head, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Spencer spoke instead, with an earnest expression on his face. “Y/N-“

“Thanks for getting me home in one piece, okay, goodnight!” You rambled off, the words sliding off your tongue like they were on a luge, all blurring together into one, long megaword. You slid in behind the door and stumbled up to your unit before you could say another word.

You couldn’t believe yourself, replaying the moment on your stoop over and over as you locked the door, leaning against it and running your hand over your face. Spencer’s expression had been completely dumbfounded when you pulled away from the kiss. There was no doubt in your mind that he had been about to politely reject you, in that way that only he could do. I’m sorry, Y/N, but I think we’re better off as friends, he would say, simultaneously humiliating you and ripping your heart in half.

That’s why you’d cut him off, before he could say anything, before he could address the situation, before either of you had to acknowledge that it had actually happened.

You slept poorly that night, your anxiety getting the best of you. It was that look on Spencer’s face, how you just knew he was going to tell you in the kindest, most sensitive tone that he didn’t like that you kissed him. And your Nan’s voice ringing in your head - You’ll find someone someday, Button. You’ll be just as happy as your sister someday, Button.

You tossed and turned, and woke up with a violent hangover. All the coffee in the world was not enough to cure the aftershock of the night before.

Your stomach was in knots, a lethal combination of hangover ickies and irreversible mistake anxiety, and as you took a cab to work, you leaned your head against the seat behind you.

You flashed your badge to security and boarded the elevator to ride up to the sixth floor. The doors opened to reveal Penelope Garcia, clutching a stack of folders to her chest, waiting for you.

“Good morning, pumpkin,” Penelope flashed a smile, then grabbed you by the wrist, practically yanking you along behind her as she headed towards the conference room. Your head was pounding and while you loved Penelope with all your heart, in that moment, you wanted to throttle her. “You look horrible. We’ll discuss that later, and don’t even think about trying to internalize it and brush me off. I might not be a super magic genius psychic profiler, but I can tell when one of my love-bugs has had a wild night and I want details. Unfortunately for you, darling, you have a case. Hotch asked me to pull you directly into the conference room. Everyone’s waiting.”

Usually, when Penelope rambled on like that, you were able to keep up. In this weakened state, however, the words hit you like someone throwing putty against a wall, and it took a minute to process. You found yourself standing in front of the closed door of the conference room, with slackened posture and narrowed eyes. “Okay,” you managed to murmur before Penelope dragged you behind her, into the conference room.

You could feel the team’s eyes on you as you slumped into the empty seat. You avoided eye contact with everyone, especially Spencer, projecting to the room that you were not to be asked about your disheveled appearance and obvious headache. You spared a glance at Spencer. He looked perfect, as per freakin’ usual, with a purple button-up dress shirt and a dark tie over it. He sat up straight in his desk chair, as if last night hadn’t affected him in the slightest. You hated that.

Hotchner cleared his throat. “Let’s begin. Garcia?”

Penelope’s eyes lingered on you, fluttering from you to Spencer, and you watched as she seemed to resist the urge to say anything. “Ooookay,” she spoke, drawing the word out as she stood before the table. She used the TV remote to present the case’s info on the monitor. “We’ve got a local case today, my fine furry friends. Three men killed in three weeks,” you took a drink of the water in front of you as Penelope presented three driver’s license photos on the TV screen. “All bodies have been identified. Twenty-three-year-old Harvey Gibson, twenty-nine-year-old Kyle Moore, and twenty-eight-year-old Malcolm Greene. All three were found in alleys in downtown D.C, cause of death multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals.”

You choked on your water when you saw the last photo. Malcolm Greene, as in, Malcolm Greene, the guy you spoke to last night at the art gallery? You remembered spotting him from across the room, and thinking about how Spencer had said he’d gone on a date (albeit, an unsuccessful one) over the weekend, and you wanted to prove to yourself that you could be interested in other men. And then you’d gone over to Malcolm, spoke to him for an embarrassing two minutes and twelve seconds, and walked back to Spencer with a red face. And now he was dead?

Concerns about your relationship with your best friend aside, your eyes met Spencer’s across the conference table and the two of you seemed, for a moment, to fall back into your old dynamic, having a somewhat telepathic conversation with just your expressions.

That’s the guy…? Spencer seemed to say, his brows furrowed slightly.

A subtle bob of your head was how you responded. Yep, that’s him.

Spencer’s mouth formed a straight line, a mannerism that everyone around the table seemed to notice.

“Reid, Y/L/N, what’s going on?” Derek piped up, inclining his head to the side curiously. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”

Spencer’s mouth opened as if he were about to spill the beans, but he paused, seemingly deciding not to rattle off whatever he was going to say. Instead, he gestured to you.

“Spencer and I went to an art gallery after work last night,” you sighed, feeling your cheeks turn pink. “I may have… flirted, briefly, with Malcolm Greene.”

Derek let out a low whistle, and you saw Emily and JJ share an amused look. Rossi was even cracking a smirk.

Only Hotch remained as stoic as ever. “How long did you speak with him?” He asked.

“Two minutes, twelve seconds,” you and Spencer said simultaneously, and your eyes snapped to his across the table. You swallowed the lump in your throat and somehow felt your whole face turn even redder.

“Some smooth-talker you are,” Derek snickered, and you shot him a glare. Penelope, standing behind him, smacked his shoulder. “Did you get his digits that fast?”

“I don’t really see how that’s pertinent to the case,” you protested, sitting up straight and crossing your arms over your chest.

“It’s just like any other witness interview, Y/N,” Hotch reminded you calmly, shooting the rest of the team a warning glance. “Even the most minute detail could help.” He seemed to realize that you were humiliated, and that the rest of the team’s eyes on you were not helping the situation. “We can talk about it later,” he compromised.

“So, multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals, huh?” Rossi offered as a rough transition back to the topic at hand. Across the table, you heard Emily stifle a laugh.

“Yes, sir. All bodies were posed in a classic casket fashion, arms folded across their chests, eyes closed,” Penelope reported.

“Sign of remorse,” JJ noted, jotting it down on her pad of paper.

“Any cash missing from their wallets, or jewelry missing off their body?” Hotchner asked.

“No, sir, all wallets were found in the clothes of the victims, presumably where they had been kept untouched,” Penelope answered.

“So, not a robbery gone wrong,” Rossi concluded.

“The disposal of the bodies feels inconsistent with the cause of death,” Spencer pointed out, twirling his pen around his finger. His cadence was quick and pensive. “Multiple stab wounds to those particular areas of the body indicate intense rage at the time of the murder, disposing them in alleyways seems to be a choice of opportunity and convenience, but posing the bodies is a sign of remorse, like the UnSub suddenly realizes what he’s done and regrets it.”

“Do the victims have any friends or family in common?” You asked, crossing your ankles beneath the table.

“As far as my preliminary scans can tell, all three men were completely unrelated,” Penelope said. “The only common denominator is how they died and how their bodies were disposed of.”

“Not entirely,” Emily pointed out, standing up and using her pen as a pointer, gesturing to the three ID photos on the screen.

“Don’t these guys all look… strikingly similar?” Emily proposed. All men were white, with aquiline noses, dark hair, and dark eyes. “In fact, don’t they all look exactly like someone we know?”

You took in a sharp breath, just as Penelope let out a small gasp and Derek let out a soft chuckle. “They’re all pretty boys, like Pretty Boy,” Derek laughed.

“So our UnSub has a type,” JJ added.

Derek smirked. “The UnSub and Y/N both have a type.”

Your face turned bright red, and your jaw tensed. You felt Spencer’s eyes on you for a fleeting moment, and before you could say anything, Hotchner stepped in. “Let’s get going on this. Reid, JJ, and Morgan, I want you at the crime scene. Prentiss, Rossi, and Y/L/N, come with me to the local police precinct and interview family and friends. Garcia, too.”

There was an array of agreements murmured, and everyone began to disperse. You wanted to shake Derek by the shoulders for his little comment, especially after all the teasing you took when you realized the man you briefly spoke to last night was now dead.

You were on your way back to your desk when you felt a light touch on your elbow. When you saw it was Spencer, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Can we talk for a second?” He asked, and you shook your head.

Pointing pathetically to your desk, you responded, rather articulately, with, “The case…”

“Yeah, I know. The case. But, Y/N, we have to talk about last night,” Spencer said, looking down at you. Even though you were actually tall for a woman, Spencer still had at least four inches of height on you. Maybe five. “I mean, you just, like, escaped from me the first second that you could. Was it…?”

You furrowed your brows, confused as to what Spencer was trying to say. “Did you mean to kiss me?” He asked.

This was it. This was the out. He was giving it to you, whether he knew it or not. This was the opportunity to take it all back, to say it was a mistake. You could blame it on the wine, on your Nan’s phone call, on Malcolm - what was he gonna do, sell you out?

The chance to save your friendship with Spencer Reid was right there, and you stood there and you looked up at Spencer with your mouth open, words ready to spill out, when -

“Hey, Reid, you coming, man?”

Saved by the Morgan.

You saw Spencer’s jaw tighten, and he exhaled sharply. You were still frozen, unsure of what to say, of how to say it, so when Spencer simply frowned at you and then turned around to join Derek, you weren’t surprised.

You ran your hands over your face, still reeling, foggy from your hangover, thoroughly embarrassed from the entire situation.

“Y/N,” Rossi’s voice piped up, and you turned to see him with an arched brow. “C’mon, we gotta get going,” he gestured for you to follow him.

You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as you joined Rossi. You boarded the elevator with him, just the two of you, to head down to one of the Bureau’s black SUVs. “What’s going on with you?” Rossi asked, furrowing his brows.

In terms of group dynamics, David Rossi was like the team’s mother, in comparison to Hotchner, who was most certainly the patriarch of the BAU. You loved Rossi. He was kind, fairly level-headed, and he always stuck his neck out for the people he cared about. He also was pretty funny, and could make a killer lasagna. All those merits aside, you so did not want to talk about it.

“Not right now, Dave,” you shook your head, leaning against the wall of the elevator, running your palms down your thighs.

Rossi nodded understandingly, but you had an inkling he wasn’t about to just drop it. “I get it. Hungover, in a weird spot with Reid-“

“I’m not in a weird spot with Reid,” you corrected him, and Rossi smirked, knowing he had gotten you to crack. You shot him a (mostly) playful glare. “I had maybe a little too much to drink last night. And I maybe had, accidentally, perhaps…” you groaned, rolling your eyes at the idiocy of your actions the night before. “I kissed Spencer last night. It only lasted for, like, a minute, and right when it was over, I freaked out and went inside my apartment, and now things are just, like, weird between us. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, kiddo,” Rossi began, and you pursed your lips. He always hit you with a kiddo when he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear. “As a person who has been with many romantic partners-“

You feigned a gag.

Rossi just chuckled and continued. “I think you have to ask yourself - how do you want Spencer to react? Would you prefer to bury this and never speak of it again, or is this the catalyst you needed to finally tell him how you feel?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean, tell him how I feel?” You asked, playing dumb. Maybe Rossi was just grasping at straws.

“Oh, c’mon, kid, we’ve all seen how you look at each other. The only person who doesn’t know that you’re in love with Spencer is, well, Spencer.”

You felt your entire face flush. “You’re not serious,” you chuckled in disbelief.

Rossi looked at you and batted his eyelashes in a very feminine expression. The expression dropped and he said, “You make this lovestruck school girl expression at him at least once a day.”

“I do not!” You crossed your arms over your chest defensively, just as the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival to the Quantico lobby.

“Yeah, kid, you do. It’s pretty cute, actually. You’re like two lovesick puppies, chasing each other’s tails.”

“He does not think of me like that, Rossi,” you insisted indignantly, your voice taking a more hushed tone as the two of you walked at the same quick pace through the lobby, and outside towards the garage of Bureau vehicles.

The sun hit your face just as Rossi spoke again. “You’re such a good profiler, Y/N. How do you not see it?”

You decided not to dignify Rossi’s opinion with a response. Rather, you just shook your head and continued towards the garage to meet up with Prentiss and Garcia.

When you arrived at the police precinct, Garcia set up in the conference room, and you, Emily and Rossi each took turns interviewing the next of kin for the victims. You interviewed the mother of the first victim, Harvey Gibson.

An art student at Georgetown, steady boyfriend for three years he planned to propose to on Christmas, no criminal record, called his mother every other day. He was a good kid. Comforting his mother, walking her through all the questions the police had asked her three weeks ago — it was always a lot. But with your head already fuzzy and your mind on other Reid-related things, by the time you escorted Mrs. Gibson out of the police station and thanked her for her time, you felt heavy.

It didn’t help when the team reconvened about an hour later, sitting around a conference room at the local police station. You could tell Spencer’s eyes were floating to yours every so often, but you refused to meet them. You were working right now. You couldn’t let the revelation with Rossi distract you from your job.

Penelope took the lead, addressing the entire team. “So, our original thought of the three victims being unrelated actually has turned out to be incorrect,” she began. “Not only do all three of our victims look alike, but they all visited the same art gallery twenty-four hours prior to their murders.”

“Not the one we went to last night?” Spencer asked.

“No,” Penelope clarified. “From Emily’s discussion with Malcolm Greene’s brother, along with tracking the location of the other two victims’ cell phones prior to their deaths, we can determine that all three victims visited a different art gallery - The Restful Owl, just two blocks over from where you and Y/N went last night.”

“So, the victims all meet a certain physical description,” JJ recapped. “Brown hair, brown eyes, early-to-late twenties, and all visited The Restful Owl art gallery.”

“The gallery seems like a solid lead,” Hotch agreed. “All three victims were interested in art in some capacity - Harvey Gibson was studying art, Kyle Moore worked at an art museum, Malcolm Greene was a collector.”

“Perhaps the ruse the UnSub used was related to a particular piece or artist,” Spencer proposed, wrapping and unwrapping his fingers around his pen. “We should get the security tapes from each victim’s visit to the gallery, observe who they spoke to, how they reacted to specific pieces. Maybe the UnSub lured these men to the sites of their deaths by promising them a deal on a work, or something of the sort.”

“Good idea,” said Hotchner. “Prentiss, Morgan, follow up with the gallery. If there’s a specific person or piece all three victims stopped to interact with, I think our next step is pretty clear.”

“What’s that?” Penelope asked.

“We send in someone who just so happens to be exactly the UnSub’s type to the art gallery as bait,” Rossi concluded.

All eyes, including yours, moved across the table, landing on Spencer.

[dreamgrlarchive]

Dear dream girl, I really want to be my dream girl but I don’t know where to start. I feel unmotivated most of the time and I only get a burst of motivation at like 3 am. I just what to glow and radiate good energy for myself and find/do what I like

Oh, So You Wanna Be a Dream Girl? 🎀

starting your dream girl journey

Congrats on choosing yourself and your tiara; I am so proud. Prepare to not be liked, to be judged, and to stand out. It’s lonely at the top.

*this guide is for starting the process, not reaching the end result because my version of my own dream girl is inevitably different than yours. bare in mind i’m not holding your hand. i’m nudging you in a good direction.

what is a dream girl?

a dream girl is a girl that has finally fallen in love with who she sees in the mirror. she’s the girl that she can depend on. she has her desired look and she’s on the path to self actualization actively. she’s aware of her branding. she holds herself to the standards she holds other to; and they are HIGH. her self worth isn’t contingent upon a love interest, amount of money, or social status. she’s simply that girl.

do some healing.

yes, i said it. healing. like i’ve said before, you cannot put glitter on literal garbage. that’s not even the slightest bit appealing. you’re gonna journal about your childhood, your biggest influences in life, your biggest fears and how you feel life has treated you. this calls for shadow work. shadow working really helped me figure out some of my toxic traits and how some of the things that were considered normal to me as a child have affected me in the long run. you’re also gonna write hypothetical letters to your loved (and not-so-loved) ones, including yourself. let it all out. say everything you want that person to know. around you or not, dead or alive. prepare to clam up, cry, get angry, feel anxious. good. you should. you feel clammy, hot and sometimes pain when your body is fighting off and healing from a physical sickness. now you’re dealing with the developmental, mental, and emotional parts. you’re doing yourself a disservice choosing to stay the same toxic, nasty, mean, or victimized person you’ve always been.

what do you want?

before you can start to even do the smallest improvements, you have to have a clear goal. or else you’ll just be running around in circles (heh) over grandiose blurry wishful thinking. ultimately resulting in you giving up and choosing to be basic bc it’s easier. what do you want out of life? how do you want to be treated? what do you want to do? what makes you happy? and most importantly, how do you want to feel? see, it’s more than just the frills and glitter. you have to know what you’re trying to get to, internally and externally.

grab a diary, adorn it with pretty little details and commit to it. pair it with your fav writing utensil. outline all of your goals. every single last one of them. you can categorize them, scale them from short to long term, easy to hard. it doesn’t matter. do absolutely what you want to do to make a concrete record of your goals that’s digestible for you.

what are you going to do?

*fabulosity by kimora lee simmons*

compare your dream reality to the one you’re currently experiencing. what is she doing that you aren’t? that’s it. do that. anyone can read blogs about the process and other people success stories but those posts aren’t gonna change your life unless you get up and go for what you want. i don’t know what exactly you desire out of life. you do. so you have the instructions for this journey. the first part was easy, this is simple but not nearly as effortless. it’s up to you and not anyone else. you teach others how to treat you. improvements you can make include better: hygiene, self talk/treatment, outward energy, work ethic, discipline, health, consumed content, relationships, looks, habits.

the work

it’s time to apply yourself. get up everyday and actively work towards your goal. be kind to yourself. take yourself to the doctors. get active. eat right. find your passion. DO THE HEALING.

everyone’s journey is SO different so i’m just going to do a quick rundown of the importance of each of the ten facets of your dream girl journey (that build upon each other. ie; looks do not benefit you when your hygiene is insufficient):

*these facets are loosely based on maslow’s hierarchy of needs

health - are you taking care of yourself? please treat yourself how you would your loved ones. you’ll be surprised how physical issues manifest mentally, and vice versa. get adequate sleep. take baby steps if need be. some of these adjustments may be huge to you. be gracious with your journey.

consumed content - everything you engage in is your diet. the company you keep, food you eat, music you enjoy. you get the idea. do you feel light and ready to take on the day? or do you feel drained and sick more often than not. make some adjustments wherever you see necessary.

hygiene - extremely important. stick to a routine for your hygienic needs. you should have rituals you engage in everyday. don’t forget that your health and hygiene go hand in hand. oral and feminine hygiene is so crazily important. please don’t neglect yourself. i talk about my routines in detail here.

habits - daily habits are so crucial to your lifestyle. adjust these and consciously break your bad habits by supplementing your life with equal and opposite habits.

self talk/treatment - simple. be kind to yourself. hold yourself accountable for flaws and mistakes while loving yourself enough to be patient with the journey of improving.

outward energy - be very aware of the vibes you’re permeating. again this is so a huge determination of how you will be treated and how you will live your life.

work ethic/discipline - it’s gonna take serious accountability to escape the desire to stay comfortable. you have to tell yourself that you deserve *your desired end result* so you will *make specific change/adjustment.* it’s that simple (again simple doesn’t mean easy).

relationships - if you don’t like the way you’re treated by those in your life, those relationships need to be reevaluated. you can make some trims on your circle, have some honest conversations, or adjust your behaviors (because sometimes, YOU are the problem).

passion and career - in order to feel fulfilled in life, we all need a purpose. discover yours. incorporate your passion into your daily life.

looks - develop your signature and hone in on it. looks are very important to your perception (self and public). check out this guide to help with this part. however you wanna feel is how you should display yourself.

be a dream girl!

you’ve discovered all the facets of creating your dream self and reality. now it’s time to apply what you’ve learned. start showing up in life in the fashion you want to be seen in.

that’s it! the rest is up to you!

- xoxo, dreamgrlarchive 🎀

[hotluncheddie]

high masking autistic steve snippet - a follow on from this and this

wc: 2.5k | rated: T | cw: none | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie but again this is about steve), hurt/comfort, established relationship, stimming

ao3

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Steve is spending the evening doing one of his new things. Where he takes time to just be. It’s recovering, or Stevie time, or whatever Eddie and Robin have decided it should be called. 

He’s alone basically, and it’s nice, because he’s letting it be nice. Letting it be restful. 

It’s for when he’s had a meltdown. Or can feel one coming on, because now he’s starting to recognise what overstimulation feels like on his skin. How it prickles at the back of his neck if his breaks cut short, makes his vision vignette if something too unexpected happens. 

Learned that after something like that he’ll need to rest. Needs time. 

And it’s not lazy. It’s not. (Sometimes it still feels like it is.) (Weak…that word always plays in the deep, scathing tone of his father’s voice…and selfish.)  

He’s on the couch, it’s dark, he actually feels really comfortable, and he’s watching The Breakfast Club. Watching it again. It’s his favourite, it feels like his. But he doesn’t like watching it with other people because they might notice how much he likes it and he doesn’t want that. Can’t be seen like that.. Embarrassing. 

So he watches it alone, when he gets home from work. He pauses whenever he wants, rewinds, pauses. Takes a deep breath, rewinds, pauses, stares into space. 

He also pauses to eat the snack he brought in. Actually tasting the food bc it’s the only thing he has to focus on. No lights, no sounds. He forgot how much he likes oranges when they’re ripe. Harder to taste if he has to listen at the same time. So, on a day like today, he lets himself do stuff one step at a time. 

It’ll probably take him double the normal run time to get all the way to the end. But who cares? It’s his time. 

The weird girl’s parents driving off; that feels like him. The jock’s Dad letting him off easy; that doesn’t feel like him. ‘No schools gonna give a scholarship to a discipline case.’ Maybe that does feel like him. Before through. A long time ago now. 

He claps sometimes. Keening high in his throat, a little happy hum that he only lets himself do when he’s alone like this. He does it after he whistles the same tune they do. And during the scene of them running around the corridors. It’s exiting. Makes his lips stretch wide and his feet flap around. He claps. Once. Twice. It feels good. 

He laughs at the characters. How they merge together with bits of his friends. He feels that swell of happy sad emotion looking at the jock when he first comes in, acting above the others, only seeing Molly Ringwald. He lives through a couple flashbacks of himself. Resigns to actually watch them, sit in them, begins to process who he was. Who he’s becoming now. Something like forgiveness tasting sweet on his tongue. He cries a little; that swelling and shifting as buried emotion finally passes. It overcomes him sometimes when he lets his mind relax.. He rewinds, and he laughs. 

“Stevie?”

Steve starts, fingers tangle in the blanket in his lap. Brain slow to process the change, the information. Eddie slipping through the door and coming over to him. Eddie dipping to look at Steve’s face, trying to catch Steve’s eye. Eddie smelling like cigarettes and crisp autumn air, it’s nice, but, it’s a lot. Panic sits bubbling somewhere in him. He wasn’t expecting this. 

“…Eddie?”

“Hey sweetheart. I know you had a shitty day, but Wayne’s at home with a headache and he needs to sleep it off. Wouldn’t’ve been able to stay quiet enough for him.”

Steve breaths in and out a little quickly. Eyes wide. 

Maybe it’s okay. Eddie knows he had a bad day. Maybe it’s okay.

“I’ll sit in the kitchen, work on my campaign, just forget I’m here.” Eddie speaks quietly, almost a whisper. 

He stares at his hand in his lap. “..You won’t, listen?” Steve feels small. Knows he’s not, his frame broad and strong. But, he needs small. Wants his world small tonight, slow. Wants to stay hidden. Him and the couch and the film and nothing else. 

Eddie just shakes his walkman and smiles (in that pointy way that makes Steve’s toes curl). 

“Kay” Steve whispers, still wary, off kilter. But accepts the kiss Eddie drops on his head, tangling their fingers together for a breath. Steve leans forward for a kiss on the lips. It’s deep, and lovely. Steve can smell Eddie’s cologne. Feels where the chill bit at Eddie’s nose. He shivers.

“No cooking.” Steve mumbles while their lips are still close. Small smile pulling at his face, eyes sharp, waiting for Eddie to get it. 

Eddie groans quietly in embarrassment but his eyes are soft and molten and Steve’s toes curl up again. “Course not baby, not again. Once you’re hungry just come through, yeah? Make us something nice.”

And the light of the kitchen doesn’t reach the couch. And Eddie listens to his walkman loud. And Steve’s safe. It’s Eddie. He’s not listening. Steve’s safe. 

His favourite scene; Bender and Claire in the stock cupboard. The way he looks so shocked, the way she bites her lip. ‘Why’d you do that?’ ‘Because I knew you wouldn’t.’ Steve whispers as they do. Claps. It’s such a good scene. He’s exited. He claps again. Rewinds to just watch her face. Rewinds to just watch his. Rewinds and watches the whole scene again. Wraps his arms around his middle and squeezes. Pauses on the kiss. He rubs his fingers agains his mouth. Giddy excitement bubbles in his belly. He hums high and happy again. He loves this movie. 

The weird girl gets a makeover, the jock really likes it. He feels like the weird girl sometimes, maybe Eddie can be his jock. Maybe he should get a makeover. Maybe keep growing out his hair. Maybe Eddie would like that. 

The credits roll. Bender’s fist in the air. Steve drifts on the couch, eyes closed. He breaths deep, his stomach growls. 

He pads through to Eddie. Squinting. Too bright. “D’you mind?” He motions to the lights, his eyes too adjusted to the dark and he doesn’t even wanna try and adjust them back. 

‘‘Cause. What we making?” 

Steve hums, goes into the pantry to see what’s easy. Eddie slips in behind him, hand on his waist. “Pasta?” Steve asks but Eddie doesn’t reply, just turns him gently. Nudging him to step back into the corner. 

Eddie looks at him, dips forward to place a slow kiss on his neck. “Why’d you do tha..’ Steve’s words dry up in his throat. 

“Because I knew you wouldn’t” and Eddie’s eyes are sparking with glee.

Eddie heard him.

He listened.

Steve’s feels himself flush hot, embarrassed and ashamed. “Ah, I, uh.” He can’t explain it, why he had to watch it so many times, why it makes him so exited. He crosses his arms over his chest. Turns back to the shelves of food and picks a can at random. Shoving out of the room. 

“Steve?”

Eddie said he wouldn’t. He listened in on him. He said he wouldn’t. He’s making fun of him. Steve knew he should’ve told Eddie to go home. 

“Stevie? What’s wrong?” But Steve doesn’t want to talk to him. He’s so angry, So ashamed, of himself. What if Eddie heard him clap too, heard him make that high noise, like a fucking baby, like some freak. 

He puts the can on the counter with way too much force, corn, not what he fucking wanted. His hands are shaking. He stares at them, wills his tears to stay behind his lash line. He got too comfortable, he can’t do that. Why is it so hard to pretend now, when it used to be so easy. 

“Steve, tell me what I did, please.” 

“‘M fine” Steve’s insides feel too big, pushing against his skin, itchy all over. He squeezes himself around his middle again, digging his fingers in hard. 

“Don’t do that, you know I hate when you bullshit like that.” Half lovely, half scathing.

The word stinks, a stab to the gut. But Steve gets it, he does, they talked about it. He bites his lip, hard. 

Its old habits or whatever. Because Steve, he loved fine. Liked sinking his teeth into it; toxic waste green coating his mouth and lungs. Thick and delicious. Because fine gets you out of it. Fine gives you translucency. Controlled balance. Everything appearing a none issue, the perfect in-between. Steve was perfect at coming off as something to not worry about, someone to be ignored. It used to work in all situations; can’t get told off if you’re fine, cant do anything wrong, teachers didn’t look twice, his parents wouldn't shout. By staying half alive, never letting anyone too close, never filling your lungs up all the way. That was the fine Steve adored. 

“You were literally just watching a movie. I dunno what the big deal is.” and there’s frustration, confusion, in Eddie, Steve thinks. He feels himself tense up, glance over.

Eddie must see something on his face. See that scared little animal prowling around within him. Because Eddie softens, his voice gentle. “Steve.. it’s nothing I hadn’t heard before.’ And Steve’s teeth clamp together with a click. He’s done that, his clap and his high hum, in front of Eddie before? Steve tries to swallow, he can’t, a lump too big and sticky in his throat.

He can’t look him in the face, angry tears still threatening to spill “You said you wouldn’t listen.” He’s mumbling. He sounds even more like a kid. Stupid. Grow up.

“I heard a little but I was just flipping the tape over, I wasn’t trying to snoop on you Stevie… You just, you sounded happy.” 

Steve huffs. Glances at Eddie. That soft underbelly of his whining, because with Eddie, Steve yearns. Yearns for close. Yearns to be seen, and understood.

“You didn’t mean to?” 

“No, it was just when I was turning the tape.” 

Steve forces a deep breath. 

“You think I’m weird. You hate me.” He whispers it like it’s true. A big part of him believes it, his tears welling up. Feels rejected. Knows that feeling too well. Hates it. 

“Always like you Steve. Always.”

Steve grunts, a tear slips out, rolls down his cheek.

“‘M embarrassed” comes out like an ugly sob. Steve scrubs his palms on his cheeks, feeling how red hot they are. Glaring at the countertop. “I’m embarrassed!” But it’s just Eddie. It was just Eddie.

Eddie comes over, slowly draping himself over Steve’s back. “Nothin' to be embarrassed about, love.” And Eddie leaves soft kisses on Steve’s neck, squeezes his waist. “You looked cute on the couch like that. Like it when you’re happy.” Steve tries taking another deep breath but it shudders. 

Embarrassed, angry, sad. Embarrassed, confused, angry. Frustrated, embarrassed. Tired. 

Emotions wash over him. He’s learning to try and just feel them, name them, pick them apart. Some bubble back up to the surface, some only needed to be seen once. 

Steve turns to bury his face in Eddie’s neck. He sighs, rubs his face into Eddie’s warm skin. shaking his head, likes how his lips feel moving against edie’s soft parts. 

Tired, hungry, embarrassed, hungry. 

“’M tired. I dunno what to eat.” He whispers, and then because he said it it’s like there’s space in his brain. “Want pasta.” 

“Pasta it is then. And then we can sleep, yeah?” Eddie rocks them gently side to side, kisses the side of his head and slips away. Goes to get the box from the pantry, puts the corn back. Steve gets a pot out of the cupboard. 

Staring into the water, the tips of his fingers prickle. Steve fizzes with energy and emotion. All pent up and annoying him. Needs it out. He clicks the flame on.  

He starts pacing around the kitchen island. In big striding, stomping steps. “Ugh! You think I’m weird. Some weird guy who acts weird and does weird shit.” Steve grumbles. Annoyed. He smacks his palm quick and hard against the counter top. Keeps stomping. 

Eddie comes back and starts following. Stomping and prancing like some court jester. “I like that you’re weird! You know, I have one episode of the Twilight Zone taped. It’s my third one. I watched the other two so much the tapes broke.’ Steve lets a little shout slip from him “Ha!” bubbly and forceful. Dislodging something within him. Like when a tooth finally falls out. 

Feels good. 

“I only like one brand of spaghetti hoops. Wayne once bought me a multipack for Christmas. Best fucking gift I ever got.” and Steve’s laughing now. Giggling and manic and still stomping around the island.

“I like how it feels to brush my teeth. I’ve never had a filling. I fucking love brushing my teeth, Eddie.” and that makes Eddie laugh now too. Two freaks stomping around the kitchen. A king and his jester, lit up by moonlight. 

Steve turns the corner and stops short, still giggling. Eddies bent at one knee, presenting the box of pasta to him. “My liege.” 

Steve claps, hums, high and keening. The waters boiling. 

-

“How’d you feel now?’ Eddie asks around a mouthful of cheesy pasta. 

Steve curls up tighter into the corner of couch, wraps both hands around the warm bowl. Glances at Eddie across from him. “Still kinda embarrassed.”

Eddie looks so soft, so kind, across from him. “I’m embarrassed too, to be honest. You love that movie, I thought you’d like me doing that. Kinda like when we, when we kissed upside-down, like I was Spider-man” Eddies sentence get quieter towards the end, mumbly, spoked into his bowl, cheeks dusted pink.

Steve strains to hear him. Smiles once he puts the words together. 

He shovels pasta in his mouth. Eyes closed. “You are so annoying Eddie Munson. Why’d you even come here tonight, you coulda gone anywhere.” Steve sinks further into the couch, it’s really good pasta.

“Missed you.” Eddie says it like it’s simple, easy, and warmth drips over Steve’s skin. 

Eddie clears his throat, Steve feels him fidget. “Wanna maybe.. You think we could live together one day? Want you to be able to do whatever you want with me around Steve. Breakfast Club on all the time at our place, kay?” And Steve’s throat constricts, that’s a big change, living with someone, moving out. But maybe with Eddie it could be okay, if they did it together, slow. 

“Yeah, kay. One day.” Softly, bit by bit. Little bits. Steve can get there. Let Eddie in, let Eddie see. “But no to Breakfast Club on all the time.” Because some times, some days, some things, are just for him. Steve needs it that way. And that’s okay. 

He stretches out further on the couch, feeling syrupy and nice, easy smile playing at his lips. “I like it when you kiss my neck though, you can do that again.” And that makes Eddie grin all pointy, put their bowls to the side and crawl over him. 

Steve’s toes curl and he hums, high and happy. 

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tagging those who asked mwah! @2jug2head @lil-gremlin-things

but also people who i think might be interested (sorry if ur not lmk and i won't again) @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @steventhusiast @sugarcookiesteve @spectrum-spectre @irethsune

[keikikait]

i saw a one shot of geto impregnating the reader bc he wants an heir and honestly i just knew you would eat this prompt up. please? for me? 🫶🏻

ꜱᴀᴠᴇᴅ! (ɢᴇᴛᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader (not au, reader is early to mid 20's)

word count: 1.9k

summary: if you want to be saved, you must bear geto a child

warnings: SMUT 18+, dark content, dead dove do not eat, read at your own risk, forced pregnancy, dubcon/coercion, mean geto, slapping (once), voices in head(?), use of 'cock' and 'cunt', blood mentioned towards the end, not proofread

a note: check out my other geto fic here

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

AGAIN TW: SMUT 18+ DARK CONTENT. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You were one of the chosen few, a sorcerer Geto decided to spare during his cull. Your cursed technique wasn't anything special, but it had potential. He tried to train and mold you into the picture he painted of you in his mind. You trained and trained, spending countless hours alone with him as he tried to make you worthy and useful, but to no avail. You had ruined the canvas in his mind and splashed oil on it in a selfish act of disobedience. 

Geto had spent the last few months cleaning out the weak from the group he saved, training them, analysing their every move to see if they were worth his time and effort. If they were worth saving. Weeks had gone by and your group of thirty is now down to twelve, and now it was your turn.

He pushes you over, tackling you to the light green tatami mat underneath you. “You're too slow. You keep letting your guard down.”

You swallow hard, panting. Your lungs and throat ache, a growing burning sensation in your chest. “Geto, I’m sorry--”

“You're sorry? Do you think I want apologies? You think I want your self-pity?” his voice carries a coldness that would've made your spine chill even under normal circumstances. He presses his lips thin, staring down at you. “I want you to do better. I want you to be better.”

You gulp, shifting on the mat, trying to move away from him to stand back up. “Geto--”

“Don't interrupt me,” he cuts you off, his voice still cold despite the sudden increase in volume. “You're too slow. You always have been. And the only reason you've improved this much is because you're terrified of me. Don't you think that's pathetic?”

You try to stand up and he pulls you back down again, holding both of your wrists together with one hand above your head, pressing you into the mat. He settles all of his weight on your hips, smirking at the pathetic, stupid look on your face. You squirm, your lower back starting to ache. “I know, I know I've failed you...but I'm getting better every day! Please, just let me try again!” Your voice is so strained and desperate, slightly hoarse.

“Is that an attempt at begging?” he says in a taunting tone, a cruel smile spreading on his face. “It's almost cute, really, but pathetic all the same.” He reaches up, brushing some hair out of your face. It makes your heart skip a beat, just for a moment, before he roughly grabs your chin and squeezes. 

You instinctively close your eyes, your breath hitching as you try to jerk your head away. “Open your eyes,” he says, squeezing harder. You know in the back of your mind that disobeying him will only make you angrier, so you give in, meeting his gaze. “You want me to help you get better?” he raises his eyebrows, the teasing smile still on his face. He leans closer, his breath brushing over your face, his voice a low murmur. “Do you want to be saved?”

You nod, desperate for his help, for him.

“Saved,” he repeats, running his thumb across your cheek. “So you want to be…” he lets his touch linger there, a moment too long to be unintentional, before tightening his grip on your chin again. “Mine?”

“Yes,” You say, your voice soft.

“There is a way I can help you,” He says, stroking the underside of your jaw. “Make you better. Make you good.”

You nod desperately, willing to do anything for him. “Yes. I’ll do it. Please!” You sound so desperate, so cute. 

“Good,” he says, his tone still light but his hands tightening on you even more. Then, it fades into a cruel, sadistic grin, his fingers squeezing and digging into your soft flesh. “I just need you to do one thing for me.”

You nod again, waiting for him to get his teasing over with and tell you. Is it more training? More work with your cursed technique? Maybe he can find a way to get you a new ability-

“I want you to give me an heir.”

Your throat dries and your heart drops to your feet. You stiffen in his grasp, feeling goosebumps lick up and down your arms. “Huh?”

“An heir,” he repeats, his fingers pinching the soft flesh of your neck, leaving a small red mark. “I want you to give me an heir. A baby. Only the strongest sorcerer can come from my genes…no one else is good enough. Just me…and you, I guess.”

You shake slightly, a thin coat of sweat covering your body.

He smiles, his eyes wandering down to your chest. His hands push your shirt up, his hands rubbing your stomach as he speaks, “Don’t tell me you're scared of having a baby, of giving me one…right?”

You don’t respond, trying hard to find your voice but it’s lost, capsized in a sea of anxiety.

He squeezes your neck hard. “Do you think I'm kidding?” an edge to his tone tells you he's getting irritated, his teasing smile gone. “I'm not joking. You're going to have my child, and I will not accept no for an answer.”

You speak, “Geto, I’m not ready for a child…can we wait? Please?”

He growls, picking you up effortlessly by the throat and throwing you over his shoulder. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re ready when I say you’re ready.”

You squirm, planting your hands on his back as you try to push yourself out of his grip. “Geto, please-”

He ignores you, smacking your ass as he pushes open the door to his private quarters. “Shut up. I need a child, I need to mold someone into carrying on my legacy since you were such a letdown.” He shuts the sliding door, securing it before walking across the room and tossing you onto the tatami bed on the floor in the middle of the room. You land with a loud thump and it knocks the wind out of you completely. He slips off his haori before climbing on top of you, pinning you down with his hips once again. 

“Now,” he continues speaking, holding your wrists down, his fingernails digging into your skin. “Let me try this again. You’re going to be a good girl and spread your legs for me. You’re going to take my cum like a good bitch, and you’re going to give me an heir. Do I make myself clear?”

You take a shaky breath, “Geto--” Your words are cut off by a squeak as Geto smacks you across the face, his palm flat. Your ear starts to ring and your vision goes slightly blurry. You look over at him, feeling the right side of your face start to heat up.

Geto stares at you before leaning down, his face almost touching yours. His voice is hushed, almost a whisper, “Don’t you want to be saved?”

You nod.

“Don’t you want to be good?” He asks. “Be useful?”

You nod.

“Then take my fucking cum,” He grips your jaw. “And shut the fuck up.”

You lay still on his bed as he stands, carefully taking off his nagagi. He hangs it up, along with the haori, watching you with a satisfied, sadistic smirk on his face.

He looks so handsome walking over to you. 

Geto climbs onto the bed, pushing your thighs apart with his big hands. He rips your underwear, white and lacy; his favourite, right in half, pushing your thighs to your chest. He leans down and spits directly on your clit, rubbing it around with his thumb. You shiver from his touch, squirming on the bed, gripping the bedsheets.

Maybe you should just let him, a small voice in your head says, although you do not recognise it, don’t you want to be good?

Geto kneels in front of you, pulling his cock out, spitting into his hand, and rubbing it over the tip before tapping it on your clit. He pushes in, frowning at the slight resistance. “Loosen up. Relax. It’s just a baby.” You try your hardest to relax, your palms going flat. He slides in a little bit more, groaning at the way your cunt hugs his cock, and at the light streaks of blood that have started to coat his shaft. He leans his weight on you, his mouth against your ear. He starts to whisper to you, sweet lil nothings to try to relax you, distract you as he pushes his cock into you.

You’re happier here, the voice in your head says, because he told you you should be.

Geto starts to get annoyed at the constant resistance from your little cunt. He clamps his hand over your mouth and fully pushes his cock into you. It stings, your lower half aching as he starts to rock his hips, pounding into you. Blood pools around the base, swiping across your thighs like an aurora on a cold winter night.

“Geto, please, slow down.” You say, your voice muffled against his palm. He ignores you, pressing his hand down harder, bumping into your teeth. It makes you feel weird, your entire body filling with nausea. 

“Take my fucking cock,” he grumbles, more to himself than you. He looks down, pulling out all the way before sinking back in. “Fuck. You’re fucking made for me, aren’t you? Made to take my cock and my cum and carry my fucking babies. Maybe I’ll give you some more after this one is born. You can give me a little army of powerful sorcerers.”

Tears sting your eyes and you squirm on the bed. “Geto--”

“Shut up,” he growls, pressing onto your mouth and teeth again. “Just shut the fuck up.” He pulls your shirt up over your chest, exposing your tits to his hungry eyes. “I can’t wait for these to get all swollen. And your belly too. Fuck. You’re going to look so pretty all round and pregnant and waddling everywhere…”

Just be good, the voice in your head says, don’t you want to be his?

Your eyes screw shut as his hips move faster, pounding into you. He groans and grunts in your ear, biting down on the lobe gently. You shiver, and your cunt clenches.

He cums hard, wrapping his arms around your head as he fills you up with his cum. He grabs your hair and tugs your head back, looking into your eyes, starting to chuckle as he sees the fear start to set in.

He pulls out, watching his thick cum ooze out of you, tinged red with your blood. He smirks, picking some up with his fingers and rubbing it over your clit. “Look at that. You finally did something right.” Geto steps off the bed, heading towards his restroom to clean himself up, your ripped underwear in his hand. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, the nausea starting to creep in.

You don’t know how long you’re lying there once Geto finally returns, wiping you down with the other half of your ripped underwear. He tucks it away for safekeeping, climbing into the bed next to you.

He turns your face towards him, scowling. “Are you crying?”

You didn’t even notice the tears. “Just from the adrenaline. I promise.” You’re lying, of course, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“Better be,” he hisses. “You’re making me feel sick.” He turns away from you, completely ignoring you.

Your hand falls to your belly, cupping it slightly. You didn’t want this to happen, especially not like this. You weren’t ready to be a mother, and Geto knew this.

But at least you’re saved.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

this was just supposed to be a blurb, oops.

[tkaulitzlvr]

FORGET - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when tom comes home from rehearsals in a bad mood, you suggest a way to make him feel better.

content: smut

a/n: i hate this but i haven’t posted in a while so hopefully it makes up for my absence. i’m having to reupload this bc for some reason it didn’t show up under any tags when i posted it the first time 😍😍 i love tumblr such a great smooth-running app 💗

the front door opens and closes quickly with a loud thud, soon destroying the peaceful silence that had remained throughout the house all day. it was evening, the sun almost set as it cast a plethora of dark purples and oranges across the cloudless sky. the day had been totally unproductive on my end: tired body sprawled out on the couch, enveloped in soft blankets, hands reaching lethargically to the bowl of popcorn resting in my lap, eyes fixed on the series that i had insisted to spend one hour watching, knowing that i had countless jobs to do - though time quickly passed by until it had totally slipped through my fingers.

tom however, had been the complete opposite of lethargic, having woken up early this morning and leaving for the studio as he had done everyday for the past week, a big show coming up at the weekend that he needed to be well prepared for. he had sealed our lips in a sweet kiss before exiting, embracing me in a quick hug before hurrying out of the door, seeming as happy as he would be any other day. yet the chaotic entrance he displays as he enters the living room tells me that he is not feeling at all content, his jaw clenched, with anger clouding over his expression, painting the beautiful features with a dark stare that admittedly frightens me the second i register his change in mood.

"tom?" i call out, leaning forward as his sultry frame nears my own, walking towards me slowly and slumping onto the couch beside me, maintaining a distance too large to not be questioned, instead of wrapping a gentle arm around my waist and attacking me with kisses as he usually would after a long day like this one.

he utters an almost inaudible 'hey baby', his words tender despite the lack of kindness that his tone and actions display, before letting out a deep sigh and massaging his temples, his head falling backwards in what i can only assume to be frustration. in any normal circumstance, he would be showering me with affection and asking me about my day amidst subtle complaints towards his own. yet he remains distant, eyes skittish, leg bouncing up and down as he refuses to shift his gaze towards mine or make any conversation, creating the questions of whether i am the reason for his current bad mood.

"what's wrong?" i ask, turning to face him and moving closer, placing my hand on his thigh in attempt to bring any comfort, no matter how small.

"nothing." he mutters, refusing to look in my direction, the harsh expression plastered on his face failing to soften. though he doesn't refuse my touch, allowing my hand to run soothingly across his thigh, my touch tentative as i test the waters.

"you don't come home looking this upset every day." i respond, not giving up despite his cold demeanour. my voice is soft, barely above a whisper, not wanting to frustrate him any more than he clearly is, instead opting for a more subtle approach, recognising the comfort that he silently craves. "talk to me."

the gentleness within my tone appears to work in my favour, tom slowly seeming to warm up to me, an exasperated sigh escaping his mouth as he turns to look me, his expression immediately softening, any remnant of tension fading away. he extends his hand outward, placing it on top of my own and giving it a small squeeze, the small act silently saying 'sorry for being a dick', though he quickly verbalises his apology as his mouth opens to speak.

"shit- i'm sorry baby." he mutters, shaking his head in apparent disapproval towards his own actions, the grip that his hand has on mine tightening slightly, his thumb running slowly up and down the skin. "practice was really stressful today, that's all. everyone expects so much of me and it's just a little too much sometimes. i didn't mean to take it out on you, i just-"

i immediately cut him off, resting my head on his shoulder and angling it slightly, allowing our eyes  to stay interlocked, a soft smile now etched upon his face, though i can tell it is forced, one that aims to console me instead of signal towards his happiness. "don't apologise, i get it. is there anything i can do to make you feel better?"

"it's okay schatz. i'll be alright." he mutters, resting his forehead against my own. the sudden close proximity allows me to register the rapid change in his eyes, the sea of brown soon taken over by lost as they darken, his gaze flickering from my eyes to my lips. he hesitates though, head nearing towards my own at an unimaginably slow pace, leaning in until our lips eventually touch, sealing in a sweet kiss. he is gentle, choosing to savour the tender moment rather than act on his impulses that are becoming increasingly obvious despite his attempt to hide it. i quickly kiss back, my hands naturally wrapping themselves loosely around his neck, tom's soothing my waist whilst the other reaches not so innocently, grabbing my ass and pulling me onto his lap.

i break apart from the kiss, moving downward slower and slower, hands trailing teasingly down the spread of his thighs, eventually stopping once my head is eye level with his crotch, noticing the way that his bulge becomes prominent through the material of his jeans. this angle allows me to notice his chest heaves up and down, ragged breaths leaving his now parted lips, legs spreading apart to allow my head more space where he wants it most.

"how about..." i mumble, voice low and seductive, lashes batting as my eyes look upward into his own, whilst my fingers reach towards the button of his jeans, making contact with them ever so slightly. "i make you forget about it all. hm? how does that sound baby?"

"mhm." he whines, hands reaching for the button of his jeans, doing so with limited success as i reach to stop him, much to his dismay. "fuck- please, just do something."

"just sit back baby. let me do the work. you're stressed out, i wanna make you feel good." i whisper, slowly moving his hands to rest at his sides, fingers hooking around the zipper of the oversized denim as i tug it downward, eyes never leaving tom's. he hoists his hips upward, allowing me to remove the jeans easier, letting the material pool at his feet, wasting no time before sliding one finger into the waistband of his boxers.

"jesus christ- please, don't tease. need to feel you." he breathes out, his voice low and ragged, clearly unable to withstand the slow pace of my movements, wanting more than just my touch, needing it to travel elsewhere, his boxers an obstacle to his desires.

somewhat pitying his desperation, i nod my head, complying with his plea, my fingers wrapping securely around the cotton, finally pulling them downward, his dick springing from the material, a loud groan sounding from his lips at the feeling. his eyes darken, no longer kind and forgiving as they had been when he was pleading just a few seconds ago. they are different, reflecting the desperation which is made more evident than ever before, no longer concealed by the thin material of his boxers.

and, before he is able to utter another breathy complaint of my hesitance, i soon put any ability to form coherent sentences to bed when my lips make contact with the tip of his dick, hand resting at the base as i slowly take it in, studying the way his mouth falls open, eyebrows threading together as he is unable to do anything but watch in awe, tired lust fuelling his motivation to keep his eyes open, refusing to tear his eyes away from the sight unfolding below him.

the temptation to stop just before taking the final few inches in becomes real once i realise that i cannot take much more, my entire body stopping momentarily to accustom to feeling so completely full, though the motivation of his short moans, quiet and almost unnoticeable, prompt me to go just that little bit deeper, until his tip hits the back of my throat, hand beginning to run up and down what i am unable to fit in.

almost instinctively, his hand threads through my hair, collecting the loose curls within his fingers, threading through it roughly as they begin to craft a makeshift ponytail, though i soon pick up on the true intention of his touch, realising that it is nothing close to resembling innocence, every ounce of intent behind it as i recognise the gentle movements the palm of his hand initiates, encouraging my mouth to move just a little faster.

"fuck schatz- just like that..." he allows a much more obvious moan to sound from the back of his throat this time, no longer concealing his recognition of pleasure that i provide, his walls soon crumbling down when i speed up, deciding that pretending to be in any place other than heaven itself would be foolish, unable to deny the way my mouth moves in just the right way, prompting him to his release faster than ever before.

the tears that soon cloud my vision act as no restraint towards my movements, cheeks hollowing as they tighten around him, the effect that this has on him impossible to deny as he curses under his breath, a guttural moan leaving his parted lips in clear confirmation of his satisfaction, this all i need to sink onto him further, determined to push him towards his release.

and he is clearly not too far away from it, his hips beginning to thrust upward, meeting my own movements as his steady hand on my head becomes not so assured, fingers shakily threading through my hair as he manages to take some control, though not enough to direct the way that my mouth moves. nothing has ever been clearer than his desperation, his hips stuttering more often than they manage to keep their movements contained, his tip repeatedly hitting the back of my throat, tears soon cascading down the tinted skin of my cheeks, the feeling of his dick beginning to twitch inside telling of just how close he is to his climax.

"fuck, don't stop baby, gonna cum..." through his moans he manages to speak, his mouth opening and eyes finally squeezing shut, this the only warning i receive before he shoots his hot cum into my throat as i quickly swallow it, a loud groan following his release. thrusting sloppily into me a few more times, his eyes open slowly, chest heaving up and down, entire body trembling as he comes down, finally allowing my mouth to leave his dick, saliva coating the length once i move away.

even when i adjust myself, collapsing beside him breathlessly, i can tell that this isn't enough for him. he craves more, beyond his fucked out expression, i see that he needs to feel me once again despite the evident fatigue etched upon my face. and he shows no shame in acting on his desires, reaching forward and pressing his lips onto mine once again, the kiss lacking the softness it had before. this time, it hints towards pure lust, desperate touches being nothing more than physical evidence of his hunger.

"just one more baby. can you do that for me?" he mumbles against my lips, our foreheads touching as he hovers above me, my head slowly nodding before i impatiently pull him back downwards, initiating the kiss this time as our lips reconnect once again, this time with more desire. he seems pleased by my sudden acceptance, enjoying the way i reciprocate his movements, craving nothing more than to see me begging for him, no longer looking for the innocence that had initiated whatever ungodly acts that are about to resume. his tongue delves into my mouth, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as he becomes rougher by the second, not interested in wasting time as i had the first time. his hands find the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head in one swift motion, taking only a few seconds to admire my frame, instead rushing to kiss the soft skin of my neck, his impatience taking any ability to appreciate what is in front of him away, though i know that he silently always will, his actions evidence of his adoration no matter how impulsive they seem.

heavy sighs escape my lips as he continues to mark my neck, hands fumbling with his t-shirt, desperate to remove it. tom quickly catches onto my impatience, removing his lips briefly from my collarbone to discard the material. my eyes immediately lock onto the soft skin trailing from his upper shoulders, gaze ending on his lower stomach, each inch of skin being caressed by my soft touch hand, running carefully over each muscle, the pads of my fingertips making gentle contact with his front whilst we maintain eye contact, the silence only frustrating tom more.

"i need you so bad." he mutters, hands finding the waistband of my leggings, my hips shifting slightly to allow him to tug them down. the air between us is a barrier to him, separating him in every way possible despite its invisibility. i feel it, almost as much as i do his body against my own. i long to be closer to him, yet he is connected to me, our torsos pressed together with our legs intertwined. we are so close, aligned with each other both physically and mentally, but it isn't enough. my heart twists at the gut-wrenching realisation that this moment will not last forever, aching to be intimate with him for every remaining second of my life. and each kiss he plants on my lips i gladly reciprocate, sealing our love in the most pleasurable way possible.

though when his lips kiss just above my panties, i lose all sense of reasoning, all ability to think about anything beyond the feeling of his mouth working against my body. it is enough to send me into a trance, hypnotised by the possibility of being pleasured, using this reality to tune out any thought that doesn't centre around him. he is my oxygen, his touch my endless supply of, the way his hands run along my body casting every worry, every mere uncertainty, even my surroundings away, my mind solely focused on the pleasure he is giving me, every crevice of my body caressed by his wandering hands, until they reach my underwear, tugging them down at an agonisingly slow pace.

"please." it is my turn to beg this time, soon realising how completely irritating it is to be so close to the very thing you want, the feeling soon becoming nothing short of a need as i gaze desperately into his dark brown eyes, willing to plead until my throat turns raw if the reward is feeling him inside me.

"be patient, meine schatz." he briefly responds, joining our lips together whilst one hand reaches behind me to unclip my bra as it quickly falls to the floor along with the rest of our clothing.

i struggle to be as complacent as i had been, failing to hide my growing desire to have him inside me, pulling him downwards into me and clutching his upper back so tightly as if he can slip out of my grasp. this emotion is overwhelming, every inch of me fuelled with utter ecstasy, thoughts of heaven itself seeming pathetic compared to this.

becoming overly impatient, my hands scramble for his underwear, pulling it downwards whilst his lips are attached to my collarbone, leaving purple-ish marks. he quickly pulls away, staring tenderly into my eyes, his gaze carrying thousands of emotions despite the silence between us.

"are you ready?" he whispers, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear as he positions himself. "tell me if i hurt you, okay baby?"

i nod my head eagerly, knowing that any pain that would come from this would be insignificant in comparison to the pleasure. "i need words honey." he whispers, kissing my cheek repeatedly, finally satisfied when i utter a confident 'yes'. he pushes into me, a choked moan escaping from my parted lips, a slow groan coming from his as he begins to move. the euphoria coursing through every vein, every nerve within me is set alight the second he bottoms out.

it takes a few thrusts for him to create a steady rhythm, and even less for him to recognise the angle needed to drive me close to insane, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as he hits the place where i long for him most. small groans sound from the back of his throat, his heavy breath fanning over my neck with each thrust, head buried tightly into my neck. any chance to get closer to him, i feverishly take, wrapping my legs around his torso, allowing him to hit deeper spots nobody has ever felt before.

"oh fuck..." he mutters, speeding up as his hands find mine, interlocking instantly as he moves them above my head, our eyes catching each other's. the way he looks at me with such love, eyes capturing my own with such tenderness, such desire that it almost pushes me to my climax itself. it is this small act that brings along the realisation that i am hopelessly devoted to him, willing to put myself in almost any situation if it means that i am able to cherish moments like this with him, because without him i am an empty vessel. he fills me up in a way that has me begging for more, a moaning mess beneath him.

"please, don't stop!" i whine tiredly against his lips, feeling my release coming closer as my stomach tightens. desperate to reach it, i slowly begin to move against him, his hips stuttering against me in response, giving me the signal that he is close too.

"i know baby, i know." he recognises how bad i need it, speeding up in spite of his evident lethargy, his breath getting caught in his throat as he thrusts a few more times, throwing his head back and letting out a loud sigh, his release triggering my own. i swear i can see stars, my vision fading away, body so lost in intense pleasure that it is unable to focus on anything else but the steady movements of tom's hips as he rides out our highs.

breathlessly, he collapses on top of me, lazily stroking my hair as his lips are slightly parted, sweat glistening on his forehead whilst he attempts to regain his composure. this time i know he is finished, body tired and exhausted as it rests against my own, the room silent besides from our heavy and irregular breathing.

"thank you baby. always so good for me, love you." his voice is ragged, throat raw and tired, yet he exercises his limited energy to remind me of our love, his lips planting a slow kiss on my forehead.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[honeybeefae]

pls do the sexting prompt (nsfw obv) but i cant pick which bat boy bc i wanna read it for them all so u pick :)

Also this is such a fun idea i cant wait to read them all!!

Passing Notes (Bat Boys x Reader)

BINGO: Sexting

(Okay so obviously we don’t have a phone but we can do it the old-fashioned way ;). I figured I’d do each bat boy since I couldn’t choose either so take your pick or take the lot! Also, Azriel’s took a different turn for sexting but I hope you guys like it? I didn’t want to repeat the same prompt that I did for Cass! Enjoy!)

WARNINGS: Smut

RHYSAND

You were in the library with at least three different books scattered across the table. It was late and you knew your mate was waiting for you in bed but you needed to get this done. You were so close to finding the answers you were looking for in regard to some myth, it was within your grasp so you were going to stay up until it was solved.

A small note appeared in front of you, right as you went to mark something with your pen and you smiled and shook your head.

How cruel to leave your mate alone and cold.

He was such an Illyrian baby. You almost didn’t reply, not wanting to entertain his theatrics, but you couldn’t resist teasing him. 

If you are that desperate for company I’m sure Cassian wouldn’t mind joining you.

It vanished into thin air and you went back to your book, your eyes narrowing as you began scribbling until the note appeared once more. What had you started?

Cassian wouldn’t be keen on the company I wish from you, darling.

You bit down on your bottom lip and crossed your legs. He was in one of those moods and you knew you soon would be as well. The two of you had a very hard time keeping your hands to yourself and when you were working like this, your mate made it his personal mission to distract you in the best way possible.

Your pen hesitated over the paper as you wondered if you wanted to get into this with him but when you saw the image he sent down the bond of his cock in his hands, you folded quickly. 

It looks like you’ve got things taken care of on your end, my Lord. What exactly would my purpose be?

A rush of heat went down to your sex as you shifted in your seat, unable to focus on what was in front of you. He took longer than normal to respond and you couldn’t help but imagine why. At this rate, you would be running to your bedroom before he could even finish his sentence.

I want to make sure you’re taken care of, Y/N. I know that ache inside you is growing, I can feel it. Let me ease it for you.

The sound of your chair scrapping backward was loud as you allowed your hands to wander underneath your pants, finding the wetness of your cunt as you slowly rubbed yourself. Two could play at this game.

It was tricky to write with one hand occupied but you managed, proud of your work as you sent the paper back as well as a sly picture of where your fingers currently were to him.

How would you ease it? I can picture many, many different ways but my favorite is with your head buried between my legs and your cock in my mouth.

Rhysand gave a harsh tug on the bond and you giggled breathlessly, knowing it was a warning to behave. You responded by sending him another image but this time it was of you riding him from earlier, your entire body on fire from how desperately you needed him. 

A soft breeze swept over you as you opened your hazy eyes to find your mate looming over you, his cock standing proudly while his jaw was tight. You smirked, crooking your finger to beckon him forward. He immediately fell to his knees and lifted your legs over his shoulders, kissing the inside of your thigh as you ran a hand through his dark locks. 

“Wicked woman.” He purred, giving you a smoldering look before diving head-first into your cunt. You gasped and arched into him, your tasks long forgotten as you welcomed the distraction.  

===========================================

CASSIAN

“Does everyone understand what we are going to be doing?” Feyre asked while standing at the head of the table, making eye contact with the entire group. They all nodded and you were doing your best to keep up but your mate was making it increasingly hard to do.

Cassian sat beside you, his aura oozing with nonchalance as he slipped a small piece of paper to you. You frowned, trying not to roll your eyes as you opened it underneath the table like you were in school.

I know what I am going to be doing ;)

You coughed to cover up your snort, shooting him a playful glare before shaking your head. Feyre glanced at the two of you but Elain asked something that thankfully got her attention off of you. 

The pen in your hand flew swiftly across the page as you wrote your response, sliding it back over to him and folding your hands in your lap.

I know where you’ll be sleeping if you do not pay attention to our High Lady, General.

He shifted in his seat, a small smirk on his lips as he wrote something down. You sighed, realizing your mistake in playing into his antics while he slid it back over to you again.

How can I pay attention when all I can think about is your hair in my hand, you gripping our headboard, and your cunt gripping my cock?

A small whine was building in the back of your throat as he turned the heat all the way to a ten. You crossed your legs and bit down on your bottom lip, the meeting losing some of its importance as you contemplated a response.

Your pussy was starting to develop a heartbeat as you reread his words over and over in your mind. He was watching you, one of his hands covering his mouth to hide his grin as he got you hook, line, and sinker. You were screwed. 

Fuck you.

It wasn’t a clever comeback but he had pulled out an ace when you least expected it. He always had this effect on you, to make you speechless and melt like butter in his hands. The voices of your friends started to get fuzzy as you moved in your chair, biting back a moan at the friction. 

No, princess, that’s your job. 

His reply was instant and your cheeks grew hot from both frustration and lust. You didn’t want to reply to him, hoping that by ignoring the situation you could regain control, but Cassian was one step ahead of you.

One of his hands ‘innocently’ fell to your thigh, the tablecloth hiding his dark intentions as he immediately traveled up to your panties. There was already a wet spot forming and you took a huge gulp of your wine when he thrust a thick finger into you.

It was nice but not what you wanted, your sex aching to be filled with his cock. You raised your hips slightly, trying to get him to either go deeper or add more, but he kept that teasing pace. His finger curled and found your g-spot easily, rubbing it while biting his lip as your hand gripped his arm tightly. 

“Y/N!” Feyre shouted, breaking you from your spell as you shot straight up and winced. All eyes were on the two of you, knowing looks and smirks from some while Azriel and Nesta looked annoyed. “Look, I know the mating bond is new-”

“I’m so sorry, Feyre, and everyone,” You blurted out, squealing when Cassian picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

“You are so right, Feyre. I think we might go fix that situation right now so we don’t cause any more distractions. We’ll catch up tomorrow.” He called, winking at Rhys who gave him a knowing look and eye roll. 

“That’s not-” She tried to argue but the two of you were already outside and in the air, his arms tight around you as you giggled loudly. You were both going to be in trouble tomorrow but for tonight you were going to enjoy each other.

===========================================

AZRIEL

The dress Mor had lent you was a scarlet red with a plunging neckline and a slit so high you were nervous that you were going to end up flashing someone. It was something you wouldn’t normally wear but with your mission at the Court of Nightmares, you had to dress the part.

You were currently seducing one of the higher court members, his ego so easily inflated that you were a little bored with how easy it was. All he wanted to do was brag about himself, his wealth, and his ties. He wasn’t particularly interesting but he was harboring a book in his room that your friends were stealing as you speak.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you here before. I saw you were visiting with our High Lord. Are you a friend of his?” He asked you, his hand grazing the back of your waist.

A small shrug and some made-up story were enough for his prying to be sated, though the same couldn’t be said for his wandering hands. You masked your frown, trying to cover it with a yawn until you felt something slither around your ankle.

It was cool and firm, caressing your skin as it traveled upward while you looked down in confusion and alarm. You didn’t connect the dots until your eyes found your mate, Azriel, standing in the corner with an evil glint in his eyes.

Of course. He was jealous.

As if on cue you felt him reach out through the bond, tugging on it with frustration that had you placing a hand over your chest in surprise. The man in front of you raised an eyebrow, his lips curled over the rim of his glass.

“Are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost.” 

“I'm fine,” You replied, sending a warning look to your mate when the man took a sip of his drink. “Just a chest pain, nothing more.”

“Well, as I was saying, my father,” The man continued on as he had been all night, not noticing you bite down on your lip as those shadows slid further up your thigh until they were teasing the outside of your underwear.

Your body flinched from the contact as you tried to control your facial reactions. Azriel was risking the whole mission with this stunt but fuck it felt good.

“Are you even listening to me?” His voice was curt as you tuned back into whatever he was blabbering about. “You know there are plenty of other females-”

“No, no, I'm so sorry.” You rushed to soothe him, grasping his upper arm just as the shadows squeezed through the fabric of your panties to rub your clit. “I think the wine might be disagreeing with me is all, I feel flushed.”

He surveyed you, taking in your heated cheeks and glazed eyes before a dark look graced his face. His nostrils flared and you realized with great horror and embarrassment that he could smell you. And he thought he was the reason.

“If you were so desperate, young lady, all you had to do was ask. I can smell you.” He whispered into your ear, suddenly too close for comfort as Azriel continued playing with your body like a violin. “Shall we go back to my room?”

Before he could even lay a finger on you your mate appeared behind you, his stature menacing as he shot daggers at the man. You subconsciously moved closer to Azriel, your body practically vibrating as you swallowed a needy whimper as he picked up the speed on your clit.

“Is there a problem here?” Azriel asked lowly, dangerously, which actually had the man taking a step back. “I couldn’t help but notice how close the two of you were getting.”

“Is that a problem for you, Illyrian?” The man sneered, going to grab your arm to pull you into him. “Your owner needs to put his leash back on you.”

A thick silence followed his comments as Azriel stepped toe to toe with him, his wings flared in a show of dominance before Rhysand stepped in to cool down the situation. He looked at you for answers but your mate started pulling you through the crowd and out the doors the minute his High Lord took over. 

“Azriel, Azriel!” You whisper-shout, having to basically run to keep up with his strides. “You just ruined the whole point of tonight! I had it under control and I don’t even know if they’ve had time to-”

You gasped when he suddenly turned down a dark hallway and shoved you against the wall, a large hand over your mouth as he rutted into you. His cock was straining against his pants and when you whined underneath him, it flexed in need. 

“You didn’t have it under control. You let that man touch you, to think that he was the reason you’re soaking wet under that dress.” Azriel snarled, his lips inches from yours. “I’ll be damned if I let any other man think they have claim to you. And I’m going to show you what happens when you forget that.”

[beenbaanbuun]

Bad Day with Choi Jongho

words - don’t know (whoops!)

genre - fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings - chubby!reader, brief mentions of unhealthy eating habits, jongho is soft, reader is hopelessly in love, sad!reader, nicknames (baby, loser)

not proof read bc i’m lazy <3

coming home to an empty apartment after a bad day always sucks

the breakfast pots in the sink taunt you, and the thought of cleaning them up makes you want to slam your head through a brick wall

so you usually leave them, knowing that when you finally find the effort to cook yourself dinner, the pile would just get bigger

although when you feel like this, the likelihood of cooking a proper meal was slim

normally you settle for tinned ravioli warmed in the microwave

it tastes bad and it never stays warm for long, but its quick and easy and that’s what you need sometimes

but one day when you come home you notice your boyfriend’s mercedes parked right outside, and your can’t help the little flutter that your heart does

you practically run through the lobby, up the stairs (you can’t wait for an elevator when you know who’s waiting for you in your apartment) and swing the front door open

and the slam of the door against the wall makes jongho jump, splashing water on himself from your pots hes busy washing

he spins round to stare at you with a look of surprise

“you’re home, baby,” he smiles, wiping his wet hands on his now already wet jumper and giving you a soft smile, “i wasn’t expecting you so early.”

“jongho,” you whimper, bottom lip quivering as you shuffle over to where he’s stood waiting

it takes mere seconds for him to open his arms up to invite you into his warm embrace, and you practically launch yourself into his grip

and he’s warm and soft as he holds you close to him and presses his cheek to the top of your head

“oh, my baby,” his fingers brush an intricate pattern over your back as he lets you sue him for your comfort, “what happened?”

“bad day,” you grumble against his chest, “tried to put my favourite trousers on this morning but they didn’t fit and i just…”

you trail off, but jongho gets the gist of it

“fuck those trousers,” he grumbles into your hair, “making my baby feel shitty about something as natural as putting on weight…”

he lowers a hand to rest it against your soft waist, squeezing the flesh lightly

“how dare they make you feel so awful when i love you and your body so fucking much…”

he presses a kiss to your head

“your tummy, your waist, your thighs…” he squeezes you tightly, “i just think you’re the most beautiful person alive!”

and your giggles as he compliments are like music to his ears

so he continues, brushing his hands against anything he can get hold of as he whispers everything he loves about your body into your ears

your cheeks, back, arms, butt… anything is on the table for jongho

he just loves showering you with compliments when you pay him back with your sweet sounds and pretty blushes

“and your hands, baby,” he laced his fingers with yours, “your little fingers interlock with mine s-”

you cut him off with a soft kiss

it’s gentle, and it only lasts a few seconds, but it’s long enough to shut him up

“shut up, loser,” you joke as you pull back, “don’t overdo it!”

he throws his head back as he laughs

“overdo it? am i not allowed to make my baby feel better?” he pecks you on the corner of the mouth

“you are, but now you’re just making me blush…”

you know he doesn’t care

jongho lives to make you blush

you stand there in one another’s embrace for a while, and by the time you separate, the water on his jumper has dried up completely

it sinks in just how long he’d been stood comforting you, and you couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach at how much you loved him

because not only had he come over unannounced to spend time with you, but he’d also decided to wash your dirty dishes that he knew would be left there for days if he didn’t, and he’d been more than happy to drop that task in favour of comforting your bad mood

and whilst you knew that you loved him, it was at that moment that it sank in just how much you loved him

his aloof personality that he was willing to drop in seconds to reveal his soft centre

his gentle kisses and pretty words that he gave you daily like a mantra he needed to repeat

his plush lips that drew back to reveal the most beautiful gummy smile you’d ever seen before in your life

his soft clothes and fluffy hair that always smelled so enticing that his warm cuddles were impossible to resist

fuck, you were so in love…

so you stood and stared as he finished your dishes, wondering if it was possible for you to be any more in love than you are right now

right now, it felt like no, but you knew the moment you woke up to pouty lips, you’d fall just a little more

“i love you, y’know…”

he looks over to you with a cocked brow

“i do know,” he replies, a smirk gracing his face when you pout, “i love you too, baby.”

“you do?” you goad him

“i wouldn’t have come here to clean your apartment while you were at work if i didn’t love you,” he chuckles, “wanted to surprise you, and i can guarantee that wouldn’t have even crossed my mind if i didn’t love you to the moon and back.”

you smile at him

“and i definitely wouldn’t have let you cover my jumper with your snot and tears if i wasn’t hopelessly in love with you…”

your smile fell

“jongho!” he just laughs, “i wasn’t even crying!”

he just chuckles to himself, leaning closer to kiss you

“love you, baby.”

[missdaytonawrites]

tr@ck 07 • e. williams

summary - perv!ellie hc's!

WC - 1k

cw/tw - as always, MDNI! 18+ content, ellie williams is a DAWG lmao, afab!reader, hyper-fem coded!reader, dub-con, mentions of marijiuana and paraphernalia, smut smut smuuuut, talk of strap-ons, fingering (r!receiving) and more lol.

A/N - hey slay queens and kings and things, no i dont want to talk about the phantom fic lolsies maybe one day i'll just quit bringing it up! this is to tie you nasty bitches over while i work on this little surprisssseeeeeeeee oooooohhh. and also! yes i am abbys specialest little princess but i love me some of ellie. so here! maybe this will be the catalyst for an ellabs fic

"met a girl who likes my body, said she wants to break your teeth."

• its already established within the tlou community, that ellie williams is a PERV! but like.. in my head? shes pervy like..

• she stares for just a little too long when you change in front of her. literally has to talk herself down from letting at a low whistle upon seeing the swell of your breasts.

• always finds a way to get you into lingerie stores when you two go out. lowkey ends up picking out every piece you buy bc… you love listening to her.

• perv!ellie cannot watch you eat/drink certain things because of the implied sensuality. popsicles? nope. pasta? absolutely not. drinking out of a straw? she’s gotta go.

• she was 110% the first person who got you high. quickly making it a habit, because you are even more pliant when you get all stoned.

• speaking of? in addition to your astonishing obedience when ya’ get all fucked up, ellie williams cannot deny how much she loves watching you wrap your lips around a pipe.

• the first time you get high with her, your eyes glaze over and your nipples harden through your little tank. she would scoot closer and flick one, “look at that, doll!” you just giggle and she waves the pipe in front of your face. “ain't it silly the way this stuff works!”

• takes secret photos of you laughing, bending over, getting dressed.

• perv!ellie dances with you in the kitchen. dancing turns into wrestling, and she loves wrestling because of how close she gets to be to you.

• brings you around her friends to show you off, like she doesn't get upset when they very obviously eye you. “this one’s mine. so back off..” she would tell them when one asks your relationship status.

• she sneaks little touches to your thighs or waist when you sleep.

• one night when you wake up from her touch and ask “whats goin’ on, els?” she just hushes you and tells you that “all friends do this, silly.” as she pulls you closer, spooning you. “just makin’ sure you sleep reeeal good!” later that night she def lets a few fingers slip beneath your panties.

• i’m a firm believer in the fact that ellie used to get stoned and go people-watching, used to. now she gets stoned and goes “you-watching.” like, since meeting you, her favorite pastime has become sparkin’ up, and watching you! things like picking up your room, baking, doing your makeup or hair. its all so interesting, you are so interesting.

• she steals your panties 100%. and maybe shoves them in her face when she touches herself. :0

• always finds a way to bring up sex. she will, without a doubt, ask you blatant questions about what's happening in your sex life. all she gets out of you is your detailed explanation on how you masturbate.

• you would tell her sometimes it's difficult to keep going at a certain point and that you don't think you’ve ever made yourself cum.

• and when she hears that? her eyes go wide. her mind runs rampid with filthy ideas. she feels like she's dreaming when she asks if you would show her, and you say yes..

• she could see the hesitation in your eyes at the questions first proposal… but ellie, ever the charmer, prods until she hears what she wants.

• pulling you close and hushing you, she would say: “this is normal baby, cross my heart!” then throw her hands up in defense before leaning in to close the space between you two.

• after that, her hands are everywhereee!!! on your waist, sliding up your back then down to squeeze your ass, up again to tangle in your hair and then dropping the slightest bit to cup your face.

• when she reaches further down and realizes that you aren't wearing any panties she swears you’re trying to kill her.

• “forgot how to put on panties sweetheart?” she’d chuckle at you, then spit on her fingers and resume her assault on your core.

• her fingers inside and her breath on your neck make it hard for you to speak but, even then you manage to tell her, “no! didnt forget els!” and so she laughs some more, stops touching you and prys, “well then where’d your cute little panties go, doll?”

• in that moment, you let out an exasperated breath and come clean. “hnng! they got all sticky and hot when i thought about seeing you today, so i took em’ off!!!” you sound on the verge of tears.

• perv!ellie could no longer take it, she pushes you down onto your bed and starts to work on you. slender fingers circling your clit and she bites and licks at your neck. “yeah? got all excited ‘cause i was comin’ over?”

• when you dont answer her.. she gathers up a rather obscene glob of your arousal and brings it up to swipe across your nose, like you're a little puppy in trouble.

• “i asked you a question doll, its rude to ignore people.” all you could offer her was a long, incoherent string of whines with a possible “yes!” thrown in there somewhere.

• at that point, it doesn't take her more than fifteen minutes to finger you to completion, and have her strap on and ready for you.

• ellie fucks into you with nothing but unbridled stamina. never letting up, no, how could she? shes been waiting for this.

• and god, you look like heaven personified underneath her. she was convinced she could cum on the spot from that alone.

• after about 4 orgasms from your end, ellie has to literally pull herself away from you.

• perv!ellie could stay so deep in your pussy for hours on end, she would never leave if she didn't have to. she could work on you until you saw starts.

• the little perv quickly turns into a massive simp the second your head hits her chest and your eyelids flutter.

• “n-no doll, gotta clean you up.” but she just simply cannot stop having you near her, so she carries you to the bathroom and wipes you off.

• the encounter has you woken up a bit and when she gets you back into your room she lays you down, then searches around the floor for her pants.

• pulling out a joint and a lighter, she says “can’t just fuck you like that and not smoke you out after..”

• perv!ellie sleeps like a goddamn baby that night, the taste of you still on her tounge and her head on your tummy.

hope the ellie giiirls love this! happy 4th to those who celebrate ✨

[elizabethsnuts]

Hi could you write something with Ian&Mickey where they a young daughter and she getting bullied bc she has two dad?

Always Got Your Back

Gallavich x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You are getting bullied at school for having two dads and no mum, Ian and Mickey always have your back.

———

Ian had always known parenting wouldn’t be easy, but nothing could have prepared him for the situation he was dealing with now. You had come home from school in tears, and it hadn’t taken long for Ian and Mickey to get to the bottom of it. You were being bullied because you had two dads.

Ian sat at the kitchen table, staring at the untouched cup of coffee in front of him. Across the table, Mickey paced back and forth, his face a mask of fury. Ian knew that look all too well.

“No kid should have to go through this shit,” Mickey growled, fists clenching and unclenching.

“I know, Mick, but we have to handle this carefully. What is everyone going to think when they hear that her dad fought another kid's parent.” Ian said rhetorically, trying to keep his voice calm.

Mickey stopped pacing and turned to face Ian, his eyes blazing. “Carefully? You think we should just sit back and let our daughter get bullied? I want names.”

Ian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No, but we handle this the right way. We talk to the school, we talk to their parents. Y/N doesn’t need you in prison again."

Mickey paced the room, his anger barely contained. "And what if that doesn’t work, Ian? What then?"

Ian stepped closer to Mickey, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Then we figure something else out."

You walked into the kitchen where your dads were talking, though you did hear everything they said. You looked between Ian and Mickey, your eyes welling up with tears. "I don’t want you to get in trouble, Papa," You said to Mickey.

Mickey's resolve wavered at your plea. He knelt beside you, taking your tiny hands in his rough ones. "I won’t, N/N. I promise."

Ian knelt down next to the two of you, pulling both of you into a tight embrace. "We’ll get through this together, Y/N. We’ll make sure the school knows what’s going on, and you can always tell us what’s going on in school because we’ll handle it."

The next morning, Ian and Mickey walked you to school, holding your hands tightly. They met with the principal, explaining the situation and demanding action. The principal assured them that the school had a zero-tolerance policy for bullying and promised to address the issue immediately. Though they knew schools usually do nothing.

You went to school as normal, going to your class and learning to read and write. At recess, you were playing in the sandpit when the boy who had been bullying you came over.

“You’re playing by yourself again. It’s because you're a freak!” The boy teased. You usually played with your friends in the sand, though they were out sick today.

“Indie is sick today.” You frowned and bit back, your dads always taught you to at least stand up for yourself. “Charlotte is on holiday.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Mother’s Day is soon, gonna bring your mum in? That’s right you can’t! Because you’re a loser who doesn’t have one!”

“I’m not a loser…” You frowned. You didn’t know what else to say, you didn’t even know why he cared so much.

“Yeah, you are! Everyone needs a mum!” The boy stated. He stole your hat off your head and kicked sand at you, running off.

When you got home, you immediately told Ian and Mickey. They were furious the school wasn’t handling it and instead were letting this kid get away with bullying you.

"Fuckin' kids," Mickey muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched tightly. He was known for being tough, but his heart broke seeing you distressed like this.

Ian ran a hand through his hair, his face etched with concern and anger. "They promised they'd handle it!"

Mickey scoffed, his frustration bubbling over. "Handle it my ass. They ain't doin' shit. Look at her!" Mickey gestured to you while wiping away your tears.

“Daddy, Papa? Am I a freak?” You sniffled and looked Mickey in the eyes.

Mickey shook his head. “No way. You’re not a freak at all. They’re just assholes that have nothing better to do than keep pickin’ on you all day. But you’re tough, you’re not gonna let their bullyin’ get to you are you?”

She shook your head quickly. “No, I’m not gonna, Papa. I’m tough.”

Mickey smirked and ruffled your hair. “You’re tough alright, what would the south side be without you?”

“Are you and Daddy going to sort it out if he doesn’t stop?” You asked, hoping they’d say yes.

Ian nodded. “Of course we will, Don’t you worry about it.”

You hugged your dads tightly, knowing they always had your back and would always protect you. Even if that meant going full south side on other parents.

[isackwhy]

ISAACWHY HEADCANONS BOTH NSFW AND SFW

my time to shine.

isaacwhy sfw hc’s!!!

i fully believe this man is terrified to flirt

like i blame all the homeschooling he’s so sociable normally but just buckles up w flirting

unless he’s drunk

so w that i think he’d easily fall for a best friend

someone he gets more comfortable with but also more head over heels for

kinda makes it easier to flirt in the long run tbh

okay enough i’m too high i’m going too in depth w that LOL

even after you guys start dating he gets ten times bolder when he’s drunk

that’ll be more detailed in nsfw dw dw

loves play wrestling w you

like no matter or tall or body type this man will try and gently body slam you onto a bean bag

does that fake punching shit w the “ugh! agh!” noises behind you when ur editing or cooking or looking at something in the store

also bluetooth humps u

it’s embarrassing the amount of times he’s done it in the middle of target and people have spotted it as you swat him away

isaac laughs everytime as soon as they’re gone while u just sulk

here’s a quick take: if ur both content creators and known best friends when u start dating, i feel like at some point one of y’all would let it slip OR u drop one too many hits and the ppl catch on

y’all would want it to be private but not like secret. u would mention that u arent single every so often and he’d slip into a podcast one day but never directly state it

until a slip up on stream when u we’re playing a horror game and he came into your room to scare you

you yelped, headphones falling off

once your heart stops beating you let out a whined, “babeeeee….”

he stops laughing first

it’s only then u realize what u did

and then boom everyone knew

he posted a lot of pics of u before but now he’s reposting ur ig posts to his stories. posting selfies of u two on his story. (w his face covered ofc)

nsfw hc’s now >:)

i remember vividly during one of the podcasts that willy said isaac is the freakiest. it was under his breath and i remember isaac just going “wha—“ BUT I REMEMBER IT

w that said…..choking, a mix of praise and degradation, marking you….like he goes IN w that

he’s like got your legs in the air doing what he has to do with his hand around your neck, curls slightly sweaty, toned abs shining under the light

“you’re doing so fucking good baby. you like this? you like the world knowing you’re a good slut?”

EEP okay

the next day your whole neck is purple. his back and biceps are scratched up and u are being bullied by your friends

“they’re mad they didn’t get laid last night!” isaac yells

after u guys announce ur dating and someone even spots what could be a hickey on ur neck it floods into the chat and thank god for ur mods bc u are not addressing how ur bf was pounding ur shit and then went to play clash of clans after

now….when he’s drunk.

he had just filmed that drunk lethal company video w yumi and larry

downed far too many shots of vodka

he gets up and plops onto the bed, wrapping his arm around your waist

“you okay there?” you laugh, moving some of his curls so u can see his face

his eyes are glazed over but a goofy smile works it’s way across his face

next thing your know he’s inching towards your thighs, kissing them and then trying to separate them to get to your core

“isy. you’re drunk.”

“hmmm? i think i’m still sober enough to make you cum.”

“hmph no. you’re drunk.”

he pouts and climbs on top of you

he leans down and rests kisses all over ur face, trailing to your neck, whispering ‘please’ between every kiss

“no. when ur sober” you push him away with a laugh

he gives in, very excited to wake up sober

as soon as your eyes flutter open there’s kisses along your jawline and a wide eyed isaac in your face

“i’m sober.”

but when you’re BOTH like any sort of intoxicated

by golly

it’s very rare you two find yourselves at a party but when you do and you’re both taking shots and then running to the sesh circle and then getting more shots

first, you’re holding onto each other so you don’t fall

second, your hands are all over his biceps while his keep trailing under your shirt or around your stomach

ur walking around to find nick. the only one who didn’t drink. because you guys are impatient and like need each other like now

he takes you guys back to the house and goes back to keep an eye on the other guys

meaning. y’all have the house to ur selves

lord do u take that to ur advantage

you don’t even make it to the bedroom. you stumble into the living room and before the front door is even closed your lips are attached to his

you’re both stumbling as you kiss until the back of your legs hit the couch and he falls on top to you

“i was so very tempted to just fuck you in the bathroom of that house,” you laugh between kisses, words slurred with adrenaline and alcohol

“well—now—weee have the house to ourselves,” isaac slurs as well, his hands sliding down your bottoms and pulling them and your underwear down swiftly

“nuh uh! you too mister!” you giggle as you drunkenly tug at his pants

he complies ofc duh

lots of drunk mumbles of i love you are exchanged. his head in the crook of your neck as you fuck on his couch 🫡

he’s whines a lot more when he’s drunk too like he whines when he’s sober but it gets louder when he’s drunk and u love it sm omfg

i barely write for nsfw so if it’s ASS i apologize

[djarincore]

Drawings

summary: You buy Grogu art supplies.

word count: 678

tags: pure fluff, gn!reader, crayons exist in the sw universe bc i said so

a/n: part of my 500 words a day series. the letter is D for drawings!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The brand-new Nevarro marketplace was bustling with vibrant life. You swept through the crowd with Grogu in your arms, looking for things that would brighten up your new home. On your way to the florist, a smaller stall filled with art supplies caught your eye. 

After being on the run for so long, it would be nice for Grogu to get to be a child for once and do normal childlike activities. You and Din already enrolled him in the local school and the supplies would be useful as well. You looked over the many different mediums laid out on the table. 

“Do you want to try watercolors or crayons, Grogu? Or maybe acrylics?” You tapped your chin. His babble did not offer much help for your indecision, but you came to a decision soon enough. 

—

“I’m home!” You announced, balancing a bouquet of red and yellow flowers in one arm along with a bag filled to the brim with half the art supply stall and Grogu in the other. You made your way to the kitchen and set him down on his high chair. 

Din appeared from the bedroom, helmet-free, and rushed to take the overflowing flowers from you. “I could have helped you carry all this.”

“We could handle it.” You turned to Grogu, setting down the bag of art supplies in front of him. “Right, sweetheart?”

“What are these?” Din peeked inside the bag and pulled out a pan of watercolors. He inspected the box as if he’d never seen them before. You supposed being brought up under the Creed and being a bounty hunter most of his life didn’t allow time for leisurely activities like coloring. Maybe arts and crafts would be good for both boys. 

“For Grogu, figured it’d be a nice little hobby for him.” You took out the stack of papers you bought and the rest of the supplies, laying it all out on the table for Grogu to choose from. He grabbed for a silver marker, fumbling with it a bit, teething on the cap. You helped him uncap it and drew a simple circle. “See? You can draw with it.” 

When you placed the marker back in his hand, he recreated your circle, a bit lopsided and wobbly. You clapped your hands and cheered, “Perfect! Good job, bug.” 

He let out a cheerful giggle and continued dragging the marker across the page in random directions. 

Din chuckled. “He’ll be an artist in no time.”

The two of you got to work preparing dinner, leaving Grogu to continue drawing at the table. You would occasionally glance back at his artwork, seeing the new colors he was using and attempting to decipher what he was drawing. Din guessed it was a mountain and you chose a tree.

By the time you were setting the table, he’d gone through several sheets of paper, filled with various scribbles and colors. 

You plucked the marker from his hand and shook your head when he whined. “You’ll get to draw after dinner.”

Neither of you would have imagined the monster you created by giving him art supplies. He drew day and night, changing mediums and improving by the day. You and Din would sit and draw with him whenever you were free, praising each abstract doodle and painting. But, his paper supply was running thin and you were planning to take a trip to the market again. 

“Hey!” 

You poked your head into the living room to find Din crouched by the front door, running his finger across a blob of green marker colored onto the wall. As you approached, you realized it was not just a blob, but a head with two long ears sticking out. On either side of the head was another drawing that looked suspiciously like Din’s helmet and your face. 

“A family portrait?” You mused, a proud smile forming on your lips as you crouched beside the two. You picked up a red marker and uncapped it to draw a large heart around the three heads. 

“Hm,” Din hummed, “Perfect.”