#but i just stopped for water and was like ‘wait’

[nanaslutt]

roommates!gojo & geto jerking each other off while thinking abt their cute neighbor they both want soooo bad

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

“do it harder.” geto groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he laid back against satoru’s pillows. said man currently had his hand wrapped around his cock, albeit poorly. his hand was soft as fuck, but he was touching him like he had never touched a dick before. “jerk me off how you jerk yourself off.”

gojo snorted, his words breathy as he spoke, “what if i like it soft?” geto shook his head and curled his toes when gojo wrapped his hand around him tighter. “these walls are thin, i’ve heard you having sex and i know you don’t like it soft. those poor girls.”

gojo laughed, “they love it, i think she would love it too.” he said. geto licked his lips, starting to paint an image in his head. “what would you do to her?” he asked tentatively, his eyebrows furrowing together when gojo focused on his cock head like the bastard he was.

“mmm i think id start with fingering her.” gojo said. “i’ve seen her a couple times in the laundry room bend over in those tiny shorts—you know the ones. and her-“ he stopped talking to groan when geto stroked over a particularly sensitive vein. “they don’t cover much.”

geto nodded, seeing you bent over in his head. “you think she’s sensitive?” geto asked, cracking his eyes open to peek at gojo. his eyes were lidded and focused on the hand around his cock. geto tried not to shy away when he felt his pre cum drip into his hand. he’d never jerked anyone off before—besides himself.

“oh yeah,” gojo responded, biting his plush lip. for some reason it made geto’s mouth water. “i think… fuck, i think i could make her squirt with just my fingers.” gojo’s face was getting flushed now. it made geto want to tease him. “yeah?” he asked, squeezing his hand tighter around his shaft and relishing in his reaction when he sucked in a breath through his teeth and arched his back. “would you make her squirt all over our couch?”

gojo moaned at his filthy words and nodded, his head tipping back against the headboard. “yeah.” geto nodded, looking at his roommate even though his eyes were closed. “what would you do if i walked in when you were making her cum?” he asked, paying attention to the head of his cock.

“i-id let you suck my fingers clean.” he groaned, making geto’s balls throb at the visual. “god, she’d probably get so hot… trying to press her thighs together watching me suck your fingers.” gojo nodded, his mouth falling open in a small O.

“would you want her pussy or her ass?” geto asked, his breath coming more quickly. “ass, i know it’s so tight and warm. god. would you want her at the same time?” geto nodded despite him being unable to see. “yeah, just think about how good she would look with tears down her face trying to take us both.”

suddenly, a hand way being wrapped around his wrist. geto opened his eyes fully and watched with rapt attention as gojo cursed before his back arched. he continued stroking him, despite knowing what was gonna happen. he cringed when hot ropes of cum spilled from his dick, coating his hand and his cock and making a lewd sound from the stroking.

gojo gripped geto’s wrist to stop him, and geto pulled it away and made a face at the mess on his hand. gojo also had stopped jerking him off, just weakly holding his throbbing cock. “that did it for you huh?” he teased. gojo laughed before removing his hand from geto’s cock.

gojo crawled off the edge of the bed and bent down to grab a towel to wipe his cock clean with. geto gripped his cock and languidly started stroking, waiting for gojo to help him get off. “your turn, one minute man. come keep this fantasy going so i can blow all over your hand and pretend it’s hers.”

a cruel smile twisted on gojo’s face before he dropped the towel and zipped his pants back up. “i’m sure you can finish yourself off.” getos mouth opened in disbelief. “if you need some help, i have porn from last night still up on my laptop, feel free to check it out. it’s really good stuff.” with a wink, he left geto gaping and alone in HIS room with his stiff cock in his hand.

fucking biiiitch.

[godsfavdarling]

waiting for the day to end

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You and Spencer come back to his apartment, and your boyfriend’s drunken state brings old wounds to the surface. words: 2,3k warnings: angst, panic attack, drunk Spencer, mentions reader's ex-bf who was an alcoholic, no y/n a/n: I'm imagining later seasons Spence but I am not gonna yuck anybody's yum!

You smoothly place the keys in the lock of his apartment and quickly turn them twice to unlock the door. The dark room abruptly brightens when you flick the light switch on.

Spencer, who has been leaning against the wall near you, stumbles into the room right behind you.

The door slams shut behind him, the thud reverberating through the room.

You flinch, spinning around at the jarring sound.

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbles, a bit unsteady.

He throws himself onto the armchair with a heavy sigh, his head lolling back as he closes his eyes.

You murmur under your breath, “I’ll get you some water,” and head toward the kitchen, your heels clacking against the floor. 

In the quiet, you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself before filling two glasses of water. 

When you bring them back, you hand one to Spencer, urging him to drink. He gulps it down immediately, nearly draining the glass in one go.

You’ve never really seen him like this.

Spencer rarely—almost never—drinks. But tonight, it’s obvious just how far gone he is. He’s coherent enough to hold himself up, and his words still make sense, but you can tell he isn’t fully present. 

He was already fading hours ago, just an hour into dinner at Rossi's when his team had convinced him to relax and celebrate Garcia’s birthday with a few drinks.

Now, he’s staring off into space, eyes glassy, a faint smile still lingering from whatever joke had last drifted through his mind. You swallow, feeling the anxiety tug at you.

You felt it early on. But you tried to ignore it.

Spencer was different. 

He was responsible and careful. He liked being sober and in control. He was someone who avoided excess.

He was not a drunk. 

You knew all this and tried to stay rational. 

After his third drink, though, all that rationality flew out the window. With the last gulp of his third drink, you decided to excuse yourself, claiming you weren't feeling well, and spent most of the evening outside. The poker game was so intense that no one really questioned you or bothered to check on you.

You had thought, knowing Spencer’s sharp observation skills, that he would come find you shortly and ask what was wrong. He always did. He could always tell when something was off and always wanted to know. But tonight, he didn’t.

You waited, each minute stretching longer than the last, hoping he’d realize and come find you, that he’d be his usual self. But as the laughter and clinking glasses carried on from inside, you realized he was somewhere you couldn’t reach him tonight.

As you watched him now, slouched in the armchair with you far away from him sitting on the edge of the couch, your heart ached. 

This wasn’t the Spencer you knew. He was lost in his thoughts, barely acknowledging your presence. You handed him your glass of water, and he took it with a mumbled "thanks", sipping it more slowly this time.

“Spencer, are you okay?” you finally asked, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.

He looked up at you, his eyes a bit clearer but still distant. “Yeah, just... tired,” he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

You nodded, but the anxiety still sat inside you.

Stop!

Spencer is not him! 

He is nothing like him!

You keep staring at him, fidgeting with your fingers and the hem of your black velvet dress, feeling helpless as you try to guess what he wants. 

Is he going to stay here for a while? Does he need more water? Is he going to shower, or maybe just head to bed?

Finally, Spencer glances up, his gaze focusing on you as if for the first time tonight. His brows knit together as he notices the anxious look in your eyes. 

"What’s wrong?" he asks, his voice soft but tinged with confusion.

You swallow, feeling a rush of emotions you’ve been holding back all evening. He’s looking at you now, really looking, like he usually does, but something about his unsteady, drunken state makes you hesitate. 

He’s here, yet somehow not fully here, and you’re not sure how to answer.

You force a smile, shrugging as if it’s nothing, but your heart pounds. "Just… tired, I guess."

Spencer’s gaze doesn’t waver, and you know he sees through your answer, even in his state. 

Now he sees. 

He’s silent, watching you with a slight frown like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. The quiet stretches between you, heavy and thick.

You glance away, twisting the hem of your dress tighter. 

"Maybe you should get some rest," you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. You try to keep the tremor out, but it’s there. A lot of it.

He’s never seen you like this—not this vulnerable, this close to tears. You’ve not been dating that long. A lot of things are still unknown, unsaid, unshared and the toxic, drunk but highly functioning, unpredictable boyfriends have not yet come out in any conversation.

"I’ll be fine," Spencer mutters, rubbing his face with one hand as he sinks further into the chair.

His words are gentle, but they’re not the reassurance you’re aching for. 

You wish he’d tell you he’d never do this again, that he understands why this is hard for you. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, distant and hazy.

A lump forms in your throat as the silence presses down on you. You stand up, needing some distance, and force a tight smile. "I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll go… take a walk or something."

As you turn to leave, Spencer reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft but unsteady. "It’s like 2 AM. You’re not going anywhere alone."

You stop, frozen, a tightness forming in your chest. You want to say it’s fine, that you just need space, but the words feel like they’re stuck in your throat. Instead, he continues, unaware of how badly his presence is affecting you right now.

“Let’s take a walk together. It’ll help,” he offers, his voice tinged with concern, though still a little slurred.

You turn sharply, frustration and something darker bubbling up in your chest. “No!” you snap, louder than you intended, the word echoing in the quiet room. You instantly regret it, but the hurt is too raw, too overwhelming. You try to swallow the sudden surge of emotion, but it’s too much.

You finally realize that his hand in on your arm, and the realization hits like a cold wave. You feel an intense rush of discomfort. You don’t want him near you right now. 

The feeling of his fingers on your skin, even though they’re meant to comfort, feels wrong.

You can’t breathe. You can’t handle his touch, not like this, not after everything that’s happened. You jerk away, backing up, your heart hammering.

Without a word, you turn and storm toward the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and lean against it for a second, trying to steady your breath. 

The walls feel like they’re closing in, the anger and fear swirling inside you until you can hardly tell the difference between the two.

It’s not his fault, you think, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside your chest.

He’s just drunk, he’ll be sober soon, but... why does it still feel so wrong?

You press your hands to your face, feeling the tears already starting to form.

I’m not that person anymore. I’m not going to let this take me back. I can’t let it.

Your thoughts race, but you force yourself to focus, turning the shower on. The sound of the water helps. 

You quickly but clumsily step out of the dress and underwear, leaving them in a heap on the tiles. 

You step under the hot spray, closing your eyes, letting the warmth soothe the tension in your muscles.

Just wash it off, just wash it off, you tell yourself as if the water could cleanse more than just your skin.

You’re lost in the sensation of the water for long minutes when there’s a gentle knock on the bathroom door. 

You freeze. Your heart skipping a beat.

“Hey… uh… I really need to pee,” Spencer calls out, his voice even softer than before.

You swallow, fighting the panic rising in your throat, and quickly shut off the water. You wrap a towel around your body and open the door just enough for you to slip past him. Without a word, you go into the bedroom and gracelessly put on one of the shirts you left in his drawer.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow everything will be fine, you think, climbing into bed, curling up under the covers. 

You just want this day to end. You need it to end.

Then it hits you—you’re in his bed.

You stand up and then sit again on the edge.

You should go home. You should be in your own bed. You want to get up, gather your things, get dressed, and leave, but you're paralyzed. You're overwhelmed. You can’t breathe. You can’t move.

Then Spencer walks into the room, his gaze landing on you. As if he can read the turmoil in your mind, he says softly, "It's late. Stay here tonight. Take the bed. I’ll take the couch."

You don’t say anything, unable to find the words.

He pauses, watching you for a moment, before quietly pulling his pajamas from the closet and heading into the bathroom.

You just need to sleep. You’ll sleep it off, and when you wake up, things will make sense again. Maybe Spencer will apologize. 

Apologize for what?

He didn’t do anything wrong.

He’ll be sober. Everything will go back to normal.

But sleep doesn’t come. The bed feels cold, and the silence in the room is suffocating. You can’t shake the thoughts in your head.

What if he doesn’t remember?

What if he won’t leave it and you’ll have to explain and he’ll be angry?

Why are you angry?

Why are you upset?

Just as you're about to give up on sleep altogether, you hear the soft creak of the door opening. Spencer slips into the room quietly, his footsteps hesitant. He walks to the bed, sitting down beside you without saying anything at first.

"Are you asleep?" he asks quietly, his voice gentle, almost too careful. You feel his gaze on you, even though you’re facing the window, your back to him.

You don’t answer at first. You don’t want to talk to him right now. You don’t want to explain why everything feels broken. You don’t want him to ask.

But you can feel him there, his presence. 

Finally, he speaks again, his voice low but steady. “Please... can we talk? I don't wanna go to bed with you upset and angry.”

You don’t move, staring into the dark. You wish you could say the right thing. You wish you could fix it, but all you feel is a dull ache in your chest, and the thought that maybe nothing will ever be the same again.

Spencer’s hand reaches out, his fingers trembling slightly as he hesitates for a moment before gently moving toward you. "Hey, I—" His voice cracks, and you can hear the sorrow in it, the regret, the helplessness.

But as his arms come closer, something inside you recoils. You can’t have him near you right now. Not like this. Not when everything feels so wrong.

You flinch, turning away from him instinctively, the words coming out before you even have a chance to stop them. “Please don’t touch me.”

The words hang between you like a heavyweight. 

Spencer freezes, his hand hovering in mid-air, and for a second, everything is still. You can hear his breathing — shallow, uneven — as if he’s trying to understand, trying to process what just happened.

You don’t want him to feel hurt, but you can’t help it. You feel exposed, vulnerable, like a raw nerve, and his touch, even if it's meant to comfort, feels suffocating.

“Okay,” Spencer finally says, his voice small, resigned. He pulls his hand back slowly, as though giving you space to breathe. 

You don’t look at him. You can’t. 

“I’m sorry,” he adds, his voice distant now, like he’s trying to find his footing again. “I just... I’m not sure what happened. I know hurt you. I don’t know how but I’m sorry.”

The silence lingers, thick and uncomfortable, wrapping itself around both of you. Spencer hesitates for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say next. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t lift yours. 

Finally, he clears his throat softly.

“I’ll... I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” he says, his voice gentle and careful like he’s trying not to disturb the fragile air between you.

“It’s okay. If you want to talk... or anything... just come and tell me. I’ll be here.”

You don’t say anything. You still don’t look at him. But you can hear the sincerity in his voice, the aching honesty of it.

If only his words, his willingness to be there even when you’ve pushed him away could make things better.

But you don’t answer him, because you don’t have the strength to. You don’t know what to say.

Spencer sighs quietly, almost like a final surrender, and then you hear his footsteps moving away from you.

The door opens and closes softly behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence of the room once more.

Spencer’s words echo in your mind, but they don’t bring comfort. Not yet. 

[lexcys]

★observing rafe cameron x reader

summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were

a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered

you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices

stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived

you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye

rafe cameron

somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends

while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you

she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground

''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun

''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again

glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off

''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie

all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know

you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity

taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand

even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing

rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring

you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy

he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?

it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him

cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier

you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode

hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin

while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging

fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe

it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty

you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile

noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped

at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance

given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact

heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right

after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder

you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly

examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you

this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control

strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruby with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kacey talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering

walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding

the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored

before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile

relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom

he must’ve left already, right?

''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door

your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom

''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit

you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around

immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face

''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back

''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''

you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''

''ditto'',

apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily

''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''

letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it

if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'

you nod quickly, meeting his gaze

looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge

taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head

he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer

''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit

you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book

like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe

for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you

but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,

''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''

oh

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Your relationship was all a lie and the confrontation about it happens in front of everyone, including a certain lieutenant that has a secret. Seeing you so upset has him following after you with a need to help and after a confrontation, there is a confession that happens that changes everything.

Word Count: 5 k

Warnings: Feelings of worthlessness, Slight violence, Confessions, Kissing, Fluff and angst

Lt. Riley looks up from his plate of dinner as a commotion across the mess hall grabs his attention away from his thoughts. The noise rings out above the droll evening conversations that surround him as he sits in solitude eating dinner and his eyes dart around until he finds the source. He can see you over at your table sitting amongst a couple of fellow sergeants, one of which you were involved with, and he watches as you shove your chair back and launch up onto your feet as a flurry of angry words spew from your mouth.

“You’re fucking serious?” you shoot the accusation to the sergeant in front of you as he and a few of his friends look as if they’re trying to hide their smiles and laughter behind their hands. 

The chatter in the hall dies down to almost nothing as faces turn to watch. You can feel the staring eyes from all around you, but you are too furious to care who sees or hears what as the only thing you can focus on is what you had just been told. 

“Answer me!” you yell, not caring about anything other than getting a response.

The sergeant straightens his face as he looks around to see he has all eyes on him. “Well, yeah,” he answers as if it should be obvious. “You didn’t really think I was serious…” 

You don’t let the stupid boy finish his sentence before you heatedly cut back in, the redness in your face matching the indignation in your voice. “So, it was a fucking lie. All of it? I can’t…” you take a deep, rushed breath, as if struggling to intake enough air to finish, “you goddamn bastard!” 

Reaching back towards the table you pick up your cup full of water into your hand and fling the contents directly into his face before flipping his plate of food into his lap. He too jumps to his feet as he curses your name, calling you a fucking bitch, but nothing he says now can touch the pain of what he had just revealed.

Lt. Riley waits anxiously on the edge of his seat as he watches this unfold, ready to jump up in a flash and intervene if needed, but before the sergeant can even think about making a move you toss the empty cup to the ground with a reverberating clang and turn to storm past tables filled with whispering military personnel.

You pass by Lt. Riley’s table on your way to the doors of the mess and in that split second as he looks into your face he can see that your eyes aren’t just cold and sharp, but that there is a shine to them that he recognizes; you aren’t just angry, this is something more.

Without a second thought Lt. Riley is situating his mask back down over the lower half of his face, leaving everything else behind on the table to swiftly follow after in your footsteps. Night is just beginning to fall as he makes it outside, but it’s still light enough that he can see you up ahead and he takes off in your direction. Your rage-fueled steps have already carried you a good ways ahead of him and he has to book it to even get close enough that you’ll hear him try to get your attention.

“Sergeant, stop,” Lt. Riley calls out after you once he gets within range.

Your heart skips as you recognize the voice of your lieutenant behind you. Please, no; why does it have to be him? Why now, in one of your lowest moments? You’re no fool, you realize your confrontation drew a lot of attention back there, but you are on the verge of losing it and there is one person that you desperately don’t want to see you like this - at your worst. 

You have to get to the safety of your room before he has to see you fall apart.

You defy his order and keep the pace fast. “Not now, sir,” you return over your shoulder, choking back the tears burning your eyes and blurring your vision as your chest feels too tight to breathe.

The lieutenant’s still hot on your tail as you quickly walk through the base determinedly headed towards the barracks. He can’t recall a time in the past two years where you’ve ever been this upset and something about that tugs violently on his heartstrings so that he won’t stop till he is certain that you will be okay. 

The buildings pass one after another in rapid succession, the lines from their shadows growing longer by the second, until he tries to call out once more. “I said stop, private. Tha’s an order,” he returns, putting the authority into his voice so that you are forced to slow out of policy for your commanding officer. It’s the last resort he has at his disposal, but he hates to see the way you bristle at his words.

He wants to be a comfort, not another source of stress.

You plant your feet firmly into the ground and grit your teeth behind your closed lips. The tears are welling at the rims of your eyes and it won’t be long before they breach the barrier and roll down your cheeks. You need to make this fast; you’ve already been made to look a fool today, you don’t want it made worse by letting him see you weak about it.

“Yes, sir?” you say cold and clinical as the crunch of Lt. Riley’s boots get closer and closer until he makes his way around the front to come face to face. 

It is obvious from the way your eyes glisten and your face twitches as you desperately try to control it that you are in distress something terrible. He can only imagine all the things you must be feeling in this moment after just having witnessed that public display: you’re probably embarrassed and feeling vulnerable. If it was him, he would not want anyone to see him like this and he knows he needs to get you out of the way of any prying eyes and fast, but where? 

Looking behind you he realizes that you’ve come to stop right in front of the rec center; perfect, it’s still vacant for the moment. You can talk without having to worry about anyone skulking about. Pointing a finger towards the door he gives you a brief “come on, follow me inside” and you do as you’re told, praying that this will be swift.

An electrical buzz rings out through the stillness inside as Lt. Riley throws the switches to illuminate the space and as he tends to that you walk off into the interior in a huff. He makes sure the door is secure behind you both and satisfied with how you’re locked in, he follows and finds you leaning against the far back wall, kicking it with the heel of your shoe over and over, harder and harder.

Your ears pick up his approach, but that isn’t the only thing they catch. You heard that click as the lock was latched; now there is nowhere to hide from those dark, discerning eyes… the same ones that make your pulse race. All the emotion coursing through you gives rise to old feelings that you buried and now that you are alone again all at once you’re back to those days when you would get butterflies whenever you knew he would be around.

And that makes this ten times worse.

“Care ta tell me what the hell that was about?” he asks as he comes to stand in front of you. His voice is firm, but not unkind.

In your sensitive state you mistake his tone as a reprimand rather than concern and you’re sure you’ve done it now. He’s here to simply discipline you for the infraction you’ve broken that will get you a week’s worth of firewatch or worse for causing havoc in the mess, but you don’t care. That bastard deserved worse and your superior should be glad that you restrained yourself from actually doing something harmful like bashing his stupid fucking face into the table. 

You answer straightforwardly, but avoid his eyes to stare at the floor as you start to pace back and forth, your hand brushing along the wall as you walk to distract yourself from the emotion tearing at your insides. “Nothing of concern, sir.” 

He takes another few steps towards you to close some of the distance. “I think it is. That was quite tha display.”

You inhale deep, trying to keep your voice from shaking as you give a short summary that will hopefully get him off your back… or at least get him to issue you your punishment faster. “Personal matter, it’s over now. It won’t happen again, sir.”

He knows that isn’t the whole truth, otherwise your eyes wouldn’t be shimmering and your cheeks flushed. It’s killing him to see you suffering and not be able to do anything about it, though he doesn’t know how to say he cares without giving away a secret he’s been keeping hidden for a while now; a reason that causes him to be here trying to comfort in his own strange way. 

A reason that makes him keep a close eye on you more and more recently, that makes his heart skip a beat whenever you are near, a reason that had made him jealous of your relationship with that no good sergeant in the first place. 

So he stays silent for a moment, unsure of what to do here; he doesn’t want to make things worse than they already are for you, but he needs to know how to fix this and that won’t happen until you talk. The longer he stands quietly, the more that truth that was just revealed to you gnaws away at your composure until the pacing isn’t enough to stop the emotion welling up inside and it slowly starts leaking out so that before he can speak again, you start to talk. 

“I-” you hesitate “I’m just a fucking joke, that’s all,” you say, a lump forming in your throat that causes your voice to waver. “I should have known better, that a guy like that would never want to be with someone like me.”

“Tha’s not true,” Lt. Riley interjects, but you shake your head, the pacing getting faster as everything spills out.

“Oh it is,” you say as you grit your teeth, unable to hold back the words. “The only way someone like that would ever be with me is through something as fucking stupid as a bet.”

The lieutenant’s brow furrows under his mask at your oddly specific statement.  “What do ya mean?”

You bite your lip as a tear too engorged to keep contained rolls engorged down the side of your cheek and onto your shirt as you make another pass along the wall. A heavy sigh of defeat breaks from your mouth; you’ve already said more than you should have, you guess you can keep going. 

Why not let your whole life fall apart?

You clear your throat. “You see, that bitch and his so-called friends made a bet amongst themselves to see how long he could fool me into dating him. And it worked.”

The emotion is so intense that you hang your head in shame as more tears start to fall like rain onto the tips of your shoes, leaving a trail along the ground as you continue to make your passes back and forth. “Apparently I’m pretty fucking gullible it seems. I just thought someone could actually like me, but it wasn’t real, none of it…all of it was a goddamn lie. And I fell for it like a fucking lovesick idiot.”

“Oi.” The lieutenant’s intense interjection makes you stop in your tracks and look up at him. “Don’t ya ever fuckin’ say that ‘bout yourself,” he says heatedly. “Those fuckin’ boys are the ones that’re the imbeciles. Ta think that anyone’d ‘ave ta make a bet ta be with ya is ludacris.”

You divert your gaze again. “That’s not true. Do you know how many times I’ve been asked out since I was transferred here?”

He shakes his head even if you aren’t looking to see it. “No.” 

“Twice. Just twice,” you admit sheepishly. “And one of those was by a drunk down at the bar off base so I don’t think he really even meant it. I’m a fucking joke.”

“Stop,” he says, but you ignore him.

“Why? Why deny the truth?” you ask. 

The flood is released and the tears fall even heavier as you hurriedly try to rub them away with the back of your arm, but they can’t be stopped now. It’s all too much: knowing that you weren’t even liked and having to reveal all of this to the only other person you ever desired in this hell hole. A sharp, stabbing pain pierces your stomach so that you have to wrap your arms around yourself to keep it together as if at any moment you will break apart.

You swallow hard. “I mean…” you have to clear you throat “fuck, I just want to be someone’s first choice, you know? The person that someone would do anything to be with. But no one ever chooses me. Maybe I’m just meant to keep making a fool of myself chasing something I’ll never have.”

The lieutenant is furious now not with you, but with the fact that no one has ever made you feel like the amazing person you are. How dare anyone make you think such things about yourself like that. Just because one stupid boy can’t see the whole entire package you are doesn’t mean that no one can… that he can’t see it. A brilliant mind, a gorgeous face, a tough fighter, and a firm leader, there is so much in you to admire and adore.  

It makes him burn with rage that that jackass should get away with this type of destruction without consequence. 

He can’t do it, he cannot stand here and allow that piece of shit sergeant to ruin your self-esteem. The anger is visible in his gaze and he is breathing heavily as he struggles to contain it. Now that he knows the truth about what was done to you he isn’t going to sit idly by and allow anyone to hurt you. He is going to make sure that he makes that bastard pay.  

“Look at me,” he says suddenly and you do. “Wait here. I need ya to wait here till I get back. Can ya do that?”

There is such fury in his voice that it nearly chokes him and without waiting for your reply he swivels around and rushes back to the front of the rec in a flurry of anger with only one objective in mind: find that son of a bitch that ever thought he could hurt you and make him fear for his pathetic life.

“Wait, where are you going, sir? Lieutenant?” you call after him, but he doesn’t answer and the door slams shut so that you are left standing alone in utter confusion.

Lt. Riley knows exactly where to start and sure enough the lieutenant spots the sergeant making his way from the mess, laughing with his friends like he doesn’t have a care in the world and his blood begins to boil over. After having to watch those pained tears fall from your eyes, seeing this asshole so cheery makes him murderous.

There is no warning, no call out or any sound to give the sergeant a heads up until a force like a freight train is dragging him behind the next building over, further into the shadow even as night is now almost completely set in, and he is suddenly pinned to the brick wall by his throat. He struggles against that grasp, but can’t break free and finally he decides to look into the face of whoever it is that has launched this assault. What he is met with are those piercing dark eyes glaring at him through a gap in a black balaclava.

A shiver runs up his spine, making him unable to speak. His friends intercede with their pleas on his behalf, but the lieutenant is having none of it; he has no more patience for anything anyone has to say right now. His mind is too focused on what he feels he must do. 

“Unless ya want the same, I suggest ya fuck off,” he growls at the group as he stares them down with a monsterously terrifying glare, the venom in his voice enough to make them shiver in fear. The threat is intimidating enough that they immediately realize the weight of the situation and are quick to disperse, leaving their friend to whatever fate is his.

Alone now, he turns his attention back to the sergeant who looks as white as a sheet even in the dark and he shoves him harder into the wall to make the rough surface dig into his back through his t-shirt. “I d-don’t know what’s going on, s-sir,” the sergeant says feebly.

“Don’t know?” the lieutenant scoffs as his hand tightens around the boy’s neck before easing only enough that the bastard can still breathe. “Ya must be quick ta fuckin’ forget.”

The sergeant stares up into that masked face disoriented by the sudden hostile confrontation. 

“S-sir?”

Lt. Riley gets into his face. “Ya think ya can just use people and get away with it, do ya? Ya think nothin’ will happen to ya?” he asks in a snarl and he can feel the boy swallow hard under his hand. 

“I…what…” the sergeant stammers.

Again that gloved hand tightens around the sergeant’s neck. “Ya heard me, boy. I heard ‘bout what ya did to your fellow sergeant. People like you fuckin’ disgust me.”

“It was… j-just a prank…” the sergeant tries to backpedal, but the lieutenant is quick to cut him off. 

“I’m only gonna tell ya once and take this as a final warning. Ya ever even look at Sgt. Y/N again and I’ll be sure there ain’t a piece a ya ta fuckin’ identify. Do. You. Understand. Boy?”

A shiver runs through the sergeant at those threatening words and his entire body begins to shake in the lieutenant’s grasp like a leaf in the breeze. “Answer,” Lt. Riley barks.

“Y-yes, s-sir.”

The lieutenant gives one last hard squeeze, trying to make that miscreant think that he isn’t going to let go, before he quickly releases him and the sergeant stumbles as he takes a step to the side to get out of harm’s way. “Now, get outta my fuckin’ sight ‘fore I change my mind and drive ya through this fuckin’ wall.”

He watches as the now terrified sergeant trips over his own feet trying to scurry away like the vermin he is and only once he is out of sight does the lieutenant start his adrenaline-fueled trek back to the rec, mouthing silent pleas behind the mask that you are still there and hadn’t decided to slip out because he won’t let this day end without making sure that you know how much you are wanted.

You jump as you hear the door open harshly, breaking the silence of the building, and it makes your heart leap into your throat as you watch as the lieutenant makes a beeline straight for where you stand. He doesn’t stop until he is standing just a few inches from your body, his chest heaving up and down laboriously from his hurry to get back. 

You want to ask what is going on, why he left so abruptly, but he interjects before you can even get your question out.

“I want ya ta tell me why ya think ya can’t be someone’s first choice?”

The question seems so strange after being left alone randomly as the lieutenant went god knows where and it makes you pause out of confusion. 

“...what?” you ask.

He rephrases. “Who said you weren’t someone’s first choice?”

What the hell is happening? Disoriented and still upset, you aren’t sure what he is trying to say. All you can guess is that this is some sort of weird feel good speech opening and going off that, you answer. 

“Sir, if this is some strange way of saying that there are plenty of fish in the sea or another meaningless platitude that people spout whenever someone gets hurt, you don’t have to say it. I’ve heard them all thousands of times and they’re not actually helpful.”

Those stark eyes shadowed inside his disguise soften as he speaks, though his breath is still fast, but not from exertion anymore. “ ‘s not what I’m sayin’,” he returns.

You look at him and he stares right back at you, his gaze unwavering as the thought hangs heavily in the air while he waits for you to recognize the intention behind the phrase. Your eyes linger on one another, no words being said as the last bit of your tears dry on your cheeks, until understanding begins to slowly wash over you like a wave.

“Sir?” you ask quietly, not sure if you believe what your thoughts are trying to tell you. “Areyou saying…”

Your sentence is cut off as the lieutenant moves in and he gently places his gloved hands on either side of your face. Lt. Riley can hear the hitch as you struggle to catch your breath; never has he shared such an intimate connection with you like this before and all you can do is peer up into his masked face while your mind reels and your pulse quickens under his palms.

“Ya are someone’s first choice,” he murmurs before stopping. 

No, this isn’t right and he needs to do this right. The lieutenant removes his hands from your face to pull off those bits of cloth keeping your skin apart before coming back to cup his hands around your cheeks. Your face is so soft, so warm, everything he always thought it would be to caress and you seem to melt into his rough touch.

A charged tension fills the space around both of your bodies; it is so thick that it’s suffocating and you hold your breath waiting for what will cause it to break. The lieutenant must be overwhelmed with it too as he inhales sharp and shuddered. There is an electricity in his touch and it makes his hands shake slightly against your skin even as the rest of him stands still as stone.  

He can say it, he has to. You need to know that you are wanted, desired, and he has to be the one to do it before someone else can come along just to break your heart again. He has put this off longer than he should have and he isn’t going to waste another second or make you shed another tear.

“You’re someone’s first choice,” he repeats. “Mine.”

You’re not aware of your body until you realize that your hand has cupped over top of one of his on your cheek. You need to know that this is real, that he is real, and you press his hand down firmer onto your face while you shut your eyes, just for a moment to test that you aren’t dreaming. As they flutter back open, he’s still standing before you with his hands lingering around you. 

It’s suddenly a struggle to find your voice, but you push through. “I-I didn’t even think you noticed me; I thought I was always invisible to you, sir.”

The lieutenant shakes his head. “Never. Jus’ never seemed the right time to say it. But I can’t let ya stand ‘ere and think that no one knows what a fuckin’ catch you are.”

Is he still breathing heavily now or is it you? Maybe both? You can’t tell where you end and he begins anymore, yet it doesn’t seem enough to satisfy; you want to get closer to him and something in the tone of his voice makes you trust his words. You step all the way into him, reducing the distance between your bodies to nothing and the tension immediately escalates.

Lt. Riley has craved you from afar for so long now that he can hardly believe what is happening. Your advance leaves him reeling, his skin tingling, and now his tongue feels weighted in his mouth. He should say more, but he’s never been too good with words and it’s made worse because he’s lost in the ecstasy of your presence. Instead of talking, he leans his face in closer.

Only millimeters of space and a thin piece of fabric keep your mouths separated and yet for how near you are it still makes him burn in agony to be this far apart. The tip of his nose brushes against the tip of yours over the mask, foreheads nearly pressed together, mouths ghosting so near and yet so far; it’s torture, but he won’t let himself take anything that isn’t given to him freely, no matter how desperate your little gasps makes him. 

His eyes flutter closed, absorbing every second of your presence while you still allow him to have it. “Please, luv,” he groans the words, the warmth from his breath making your lips tingle even filtered through the mask, “tell me I can fuckin’ kiss ya. Cause I really want ta do it now.”   

You inhale sharply as an ache settles itself in your chest at his request, an ache for him to let you feel that desperation on your lips. Your mind is spinning in circles as the warm tension gathering between your bodies becomes unbearable and everything else falls away; it’s like you are the only two people left in the world.

You nod in his hands. “Kiss me,” you whisper as you barely have enough breath to get the words out. 

There is not a moment more of hesitation as he has his consent; his mask is ripped up above his lips to rest over the bridge of his nose and in a flash your back is being braced against the wall behind you as the lieutenant pins you to it, the bulk of his chest crushing into you as he leans in and breaks the space between your mouths with enough passion that you could choke on it.

The lieutenant can taste the salt still lingering on your mouth, all that sadness you had just endured giving your lips a briny flavor, but he is determined to kiss it all away and erase the memory of that bastard from your skin if it’s the last thing he does. He bombards your mouth with his unrelenting yearning, open-mouthed kisses overtaking your lips until you can taste the need across your tongue

“Anyone with half a brain would kill for tha chance to call you theirs,” he gasps against your lips. “And I want ya more than anythin’, before another bastard can take ya away from me.”

Your entire body feels weightless like you are floating the longer he takes your mouth. To be embraced like this, being devoured as if he has been starved of your kiss, is overwhelming and suddenly you’re lightheaded as time passes uncounted. All the pain and sadness that just had you in a chokehold evaporated from your mind as if it was never there and it is replaced by the emotions shared between two sets of hungry lips. 

“And stop calling me sir,” he says, “when it’s me and you, it’s Simon now.”

Kisses like fire pepper your lips, his entire mouth enveloping your own with noses pressed into cheeks so that neither of you can breathe and yet pulling away feels like torture. You know the type of man the lieutenant is, know that to be so vulnerable about what he wants is not something he has displayed much before, and that for him to be so open is important. 

He doesn’t just want to say the words, he wants to prove them true.

Simon’s large hands release your face to wrap themselves around your hips, touching you in such a way as if he is trying to write promises on your body through your clothes with his fingertips. “Jus’ want tha chance ta show ya that someone can fuckin’ choose ya. Tell me ya fuckin’ want that too,” he implores in a desperate whisper.  

His request is met without words at first, but your smile is against his mouth and the way you kiss him back harder, meeting his lips in feverish bursts as you tangle your fingers into the hair at the back of his head to push him tighter into you is answer enough.

“I do,” you whimper, only breaking from his lips long enough to spit the words out. 

His voice is calm, yet firm, quiet, yet powerful as he murmurs the words into the small gap between your mouths. “Then you’re under my protection now, got it? I won’t let any manky bastard mess with ya again.”

Something about the way he says it makes you suspicious of where he was just minutes ago, though you don’t ask the question. Let that chaos rest for another time, right now you are going to let yourself enjoy this.

Heated lips connect again as if he is trying to make you swallow his vow. “No one’s gonna hurt ya, not while I’m ‘round.”

There is a pause as Simon breaks the kiss and pulls back, dark eyes lingering on the beauty of your flushed face and hazy eyes. More gentle than you could have thought possible from the intimidating lieutenant, his fingertips caress your cheek as his lips upturn into a smile. “Cause from now on, you’re gonna be my first choice.”

[imaginaryf1shots]

Heatstroke | Max Verstappen

WC: 2.6K

Max x Platonic!Driver!reader, Grid x Driver!reader

Summery: When you made the switch to Formula 1, no one told you how bad the Qatar GP can be

Warning: Heatstoke??

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

y/n y/f/n, is a name that’s been making headlines for months now. When the rumours first started everyone thought they were just, that, rumours. But in F1 rumours don’t just come out of thin air, especially ones like this. Red Bull is changing their line up and they’re bringing in a female? A woman whose already in her mid-20s. A NASCAR driver, a runner up for the drivers’ championship three times. Not many switch from other series to Formula, the other way around. Yes. So, it’s a rumour everyone presumed.

But why are there photos of you in Milton Keynes? Why is Max suddenly following you on Instagram? Why is your NASCAR team not posting you on their social media anymore? How come it’s already the winter break and no confirmation on who will be take the empty seat in the Red Bull team?

You ignored your social media, since someone leaked your move from NASCAR to F1. You stopped caring a long time ago, stopped looking a long time ago. A long life in motorsports taught you not to care. The life of a female in motorsports is not easy even now in the 21st century. Female fans have it hard, female presenters have it hard, female mechanics have it hard, and certainly female drivers have it hard. But it only made you stronger and your skin thicker.

When Red Bull finally announced that you’d be the one driving for them in the new season, they were met with both positive and negative response. You’re an enigma coming into the sport. No one’s seen you in a Formula 1 car before, or a car in the feeder series. But you did start in karting and your records are still unbroken.

While everyone was enjoying their winter break, you spent it training in the gym, on the sim, and in previous F1 cars. No time to spare, to get you ready for the new season. A season Red Bull has high hopes for.

You were able to meet Max a few times since you joined the team, but he was mostly off enjoying his break. Only by the time the preparations for the new season that he’s actually got to know you. Surprisingly to many, you and Max got on well with each other. Max instantly took a liking to you, you may be not that much younger than him, but he saw you as a younger sister. Max also did his homework while he was on vacation and watched many of your races in NASCAR and he was impressed, he couldn’t wait for you to race in F1. Like his team, he thinks your experience will bring in a fresh eye to the sport and to the team.

The pre-season practice was the first time you met the rest of the grid. Everyone has been pleasant and nice; Lewis Hamilton had a long talk with you about your experience in motorsports as a female and he shared some of his challenges being the only black man in the history of the sport. It was such a long and deep talk; the 7 times world champion gave you his number and promised to chat more later.

Max pulled you to the talking circle he was having, he was talking to Lando, Carlos and Charles. You loved how much he tried to include you in on everything, make you feel welcome.

It was the Qatar Grand Prix, a race almost everyone hated, just for the fact that it’s one of, if not the, hottest races on the calendar. You had no idea how hot it could get, but the team tried to pred you as much as they could. FP1-3 were hard when you were doing long runs, it got hot in the cockpit. You’re thankful they decided to not have a sprint this year. You had no idea how you’ll manage in the actual race. Water was your friend since FP1.

“How do you handle all that heat?” You asked Max, as you laid on a sofa on the side of the debriefing room, he was on a chair as if he wasn’t just in the car melting.

“Lots of water and eat whatever I’m given.” Max said sipping on his cold-water bottle. “Didn’t you train for the heat after the last race?”

“I did, but it’s still nothing like the real thing.” You mumbled, Max patted your knee in sympathy.

“Hey, you did good though, starting P2 tomorrow.” Max tried to cheer you up, you gave a weak smile.

“Okay, everyone here?” You sat up from the sofa and moved to your chair for the meeting.

The race was too long in your opinion, definitely one of the hardest races you had to do in your career. How can it be so hot at night, the humidity was killing you.

“No one said it’ll be this hard before I joined.” You complain through your radio, something you don’t usually do, since the media likes to call you whiney and used as an excuse as to why women shouldn’t be in Formula 1.

“Thought you might change your mind.” Your engineer teased and you sighed.

“I might’ve.” You joked back, knowing you wouldn’t, sweat was dripping everywhere. “How many laps left?”

“16, hang in there and drink water.”

“You mean tea, it’s so hot, still don’t get why you couldn’t throw cold water on me.” You had a gap between you and George Russel in P4 behind you and you were closing in on Lando in front of you. You were getting closer lap after lap. He undercut you earlier in the race and now you’re 2 seconds behind him.

“Maybe next time… gap to Norris 1.4.”

The next 5 laps were hard, you managed to overtake Lando, but it took so much out of you.

“Okay, just keep your head down.” Your race engineer said, and it took a few seconds for you to register what he was saying and a few more to answer him.

“Okay.” Your voice was breathy and weaker than earlier.

“Almost there.” He encouraged you; you hummed and did your best to keep the lead you have on Lando now, you’re in clean air, no car in sight in front of you.

“How many laps?” You asked but stopped talking as you felt like you’d throw up if you talked more.

“2 more, drink water even if it’s hot.”

You didn’t respond, there was no more water, it was too hot, but you drank and sweated everything already. The last lap felt so long, your car slowed down just slightly, but not enough for Lando to catch up with you.

“Well done y/n, that’s P2!” Your engineer cheered and you smiled weakly proud of yourself for finishing the race.

“Yay.” That was the weakest yay you’ve ever said. The in lap seemed like it took so long. Max and Lando were already parked. You closed your eyes and rested your head back, you had zero energy, moving seemed like torture. You slowly opened your eyes and took out your wheel placing it on the car.

Max after celebrating with the team, turned to look at you, only to see you still in the car. He frowned and moved back to where your car is parked next to his. He could see you moving a little which gave him little comfort.

“Hey, you, okay?” Max had removed his helmet already, his face was flushed red.

“Too tired.” You mumbled and Max strained his ears to hear what you said.

“I’ll help you out.” Max said he reached into your car and unbuckled your seatbelts. “Can you stand?”

You gave a weak nod and put your hands on the sides of the cockpit and tried to pull yourself up, but your legs were shaky, Max placed his hand on your waist to try and steady you.

“Get her a cold water.” Max told one of the Red Bull mechanics that came for the car, you leaned on the halo pretty heavily, Max put his other hand on your waist as well when you lifted your leg to hop over. You placed on of your hands on Max’s shoulder and moved your legs over the halo, before you just sat down on the car, placing your feet on the ground, this took more time than it needed to and much harder than it should’ve. “Raise your head.”

Max leaned down and unbuckled your helmet before he slowly removed it. Your balaclava was next, putting them beside you he could finally see your flushed face, loose hair sticking to your skin. The mechanic opens the bottle for you, and you take it gratefully from him, the cold water is a shock to your skin, but it offered a much-needed reprieve from the heat. You sipped slowly, feeling better now that you drank cold water.  Max was watching you with hawk eyes.

“Come on we need to get weighed.” Max told you after you drank most of the water bottle. You nodded, and turned to put the wheel back in but max took it from you and hocks it back up. Your focus isn’t really that good at the moment, so you don’t notice Max walking behind you, ready to catch you if you stumble. You’re too tired to run to your team, but while Lando gets interviewed you walk up to them, you get patted on the back softly. It’s obvious how much this race had taken out of you. You’re still flushed, and sluggish.

“y/n, welcome to Qatar.” Jensen said once you stood in front of him, you offered him the best smile you could, but it wasn’t that big. “First season in Formula 1, you’re second in Qatar how would you rank this week amongst the ones you’ve done so far?”

“Uh, hardest, definitely the hardest.” You answer, all the lights shinning and the screens around aren’t helping with the heat.

“But you did amazing over taking Lando and getting second place, did you expect this coming into the weekend?” Jensen asked feeling sympathetic towards you.

“Well, um, I expected to do well before the race, during the race I wasn’t so sure, but I knew I just had to push through it for the team.” You said and the team cheered you on, you felt like they were farther than they were, your hearing coming and going. Jensen asked you his last question before you were free to go. You felt like your body was on auto piolet. Moving away from the cameras and in the direction of the cool down room. Once you were next to a wall you leaned on it, your trainer was by your side in a second.

“You need to sit down for a moment.” He told you, and in the middle of the hallway he helped you down, you just did as you were told. He unzipped your suit and pulled it down to your waist. Somone handed him a water bottle, he put some on his hand and patted your cheeks to cool you down. “We need an ice vest.” Someone rushed away, you just closed your eyes head on the wall. “Here, drink more.”

You sat there for a minute, before Max rushed over, he just finished his interview.

“Are you okay? Is she okay?” Max asked you before turning to your trainer, he crouched down to your height to have a closer look. “She should head to the medics.”

“No, no, it’s alright, I just needed a moment.” You said opening your eyes to look at your teammate.

“y/n, don’t p-“

“I’m fine, Max, I swear.” You say and put your hands on the floor and push yourself up, you lean on the wall for a moment, before you give Max a pleading look, he sighs and gestures for you to move in front of him. You walk into the cooldown room, and Lando is sitting alone.

“What? Did you have the debrief or something?” Lando asked jokingly, he had a cold water bottle pressed to his face.

“Yeah, talked about how to take you out of the race next time.” You joked and sat on the floor, not even trying to sit in your chair.

You didn’t slip your suit back on for the podiums, leaving the top part hanging by your waist. Your movements were still slow, but you managed to smile and celebrate a little with the other two drivers. You were the first person off the stage and instantly a cooling vest was slipped over your head, you were still hot. Max ran down the stairs after you.

He saw you stumble a little, you had to go to the medical centre. Max knew you well enough to know that if he asked you, you’d brush it off. But he got what he wanted one way or another. So, the reigning world champion came up behind you and just scooped you up. You gasped and wrapped your arms around his neck instantly.

“Max! what are you doing?”

“Taking you to the medical centre, and no you’re not fine.” You looked at your trainer over his shoulder, but one look at him and you saw that he agreed with Max.

Let’s say Max was right, you had a heatstroke and were on the verge of passing out. You missed the debrief much to your displeasure. The doctor gave you a list of things to do and not to do with your trainer by your side. The moment you were in your hotel room, you rushed to the bathroom to shower. The cold water feeling amazing on your skin, the AC was on. You just wore a tank top and a pair of boxer shorts to bed. And sleep you did. You really needed that sleep.

You woke up the next morning to knocking on your door, you groggily got up groaning as you did. Opening the door, you saw Max and Kelly. They’re both in casual clothes, smiling at you.

“Hey, what’s up? It’s too early.” You greeted them opening the door more for them to enter.

“It’s past 12.” Max informed you.

“Oh.”

“How are you feeling?” Kelly asked you and placed her hand on your skin to see if you’re still radiating heat or not. Max had informed her of your state last night, and from the glimpses she managed to see of you she knew you were feeling the heat.

“Better.” You smiled at her kindness, since you and Max have gotten close, you and Kelly also have formed a friendship.

“We ordered room service to your room.” Kelly told you; you thanked the couple. You threw on an oversized shirt on top of your clothes before you joined them, they had the small sofa for themselves, so you took the comfy armchair. “You did amazing yesterday, y/n.”

“Thank you, wish I felt as good as I did.” You complained and sighed.

You three talked about everything and nothing in particular. When the food arrived, you knew that Max has spoken to your trainer, because it was all the foods that the doctor suggested for you to eat. You drank to glasses of juice and a bottle of water as well. Keeping hydrated was on the top of the list.

“Who are you going back with to the UK?” Max asked, he would’ve loved if you’d moved to Monaco, but after joining the team you moved closer to the factory in the UK.

“Oscar and Fernando has to go to the factory so we’re taking his jet.” You informed him and he looked satisfied with your answer.

“Just take care of yourself.”

“Sure, dad, I will.”

“Hey!”

Main Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life .

[roanofarcc]

YOU & ME

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: After returning to OBX, after the events of the past four years have cooled off, JJ realizes it's about time he asks you a very important question. 

Warning: JJ deserves a happy ending! Season 4 spoilers.

word count. 1k || masterlist

JJ found you out on the dock, leaning over the railing and looking at something in the water. He smiled to himself as he strolled toward you, running his fingers over the ring he stuffed in his pocket. 

“Find any treasure down there?” JJ asked as he approached you.

You threw him a look over your shoulder. “Not funny,” you replied, but there was a smile on your lips that told him otherwise. 

The Pogues had rightfully retired from their treasure-hunting days. Too many close calls and they weren’t willing to risk it anymore. They didn’t need to, not after finally cashing out for the last time. JJ, with your guidance and gentle threats, promised to be responsible with his share this time around. For the first time in his life, he saw a future illuminated brightly ahead of him. He had you, his friends, and even a God-daughter now. While his risky tendencies weren’t completely put to bed, he was comfortable where he stood and finally felt like he could relax. 

All in all, he was happy. But there was still something he had yet to do. 

He slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side as you both gazed at the water. As much as he had once enjoyed action and adventure, JJ partially used it as an escape. He felt like he had been running from something his whole life, trying to make sense of why he was the way he was. He used to think that, if he never slowed down, nothing would have the chance to hurt him too much. But then he found a family within his friends and a reason to stop running within you. He didn’t need to escape anymore or run. He didn’t need to make sense of anything anymore. JJ Maybank finally had everything he had been looking for. His world made sense for the first time, and he had no intention of screwing that up. 

“You okay?” you asked softly, reaching up and brushing a hand across his cheek. 

“Yeah, just thinkin’.”

“Uh-oh,” you teased, moving to stand in front of him. You hugged him lightly, peering at him with furrowed brows. “Thinkin’ about what?” 

JJ leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You.” 

“And what about me?” Your breath was warm against his face, competing against the cool breeze off the water. The distant laughter of his friends sounded from up the dock, where they all sat around, eating and cooing at little baby Routledge. 

The worst years of his life, only peppered with good from his Pogues, felt like lifetimes behind him. All of the pain he experienced faded like his scars. He only had the good parts now, and there wasn’t a chance on Earth he’d let them slip away. 

“I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask you,” JJ said, hesitant not because he was unsure, but because there was still a fear in the far depths of his mind that you’d leave him. It was stupid, you had told him that a million and three times, but he couldn’t help the faint voice in the back of his head pestering him in a whisper. 

You silently waited for him to continue. As he worked up the courage, he closed his eyes for just a second, picturing the same little dream he’d created in his head not long after meeting you. 

“We’ve got a pretty good thing goin’, huh?” he started. 

A breathy laugh fell from your lips. “I’d say so.” 

“Right, and I, um, I don’t really want it to end, you know?” 

You leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his nose. “I don’t plan on it ending, JJ. It’s you and me, remember?” 

He did; he remembered the promise you made not long after you first met. It started off as a pack between friends, but it morphed into something deeper. You and him. If he had anything, he had that to hold on to. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the ring he had stolen a while back with the intention of, one day, slipping it on your finger. Leaning back from you, he held up the ring between two fingers, letting the dainty silver shine in the growing moonlight. “You and me. Forever, maybe?” 

It took a moment for realization to dawn on you, but it struck with force. Your eyes blew wide, and your mouth fell open in a humorous and bewildered laugh. “Are you asking me to marry you?” 

JJ nodded, sheepishly using his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I probably should have gotten down on one knee, right? To be fair, it’s my first time.” He went to lower himself onto the dock, but you stopped him, cupping his face in your hands. 

“And it’s perfect,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes. “I would love to marry you, JJ Maybank.” 

He felt like he was going to cry too from the pure excitement and love that swelled inside his chest. Blinking back his own happy tears, he took your hand and slid the ring on your finger. It wasn’t some extravagant engagement ring, but it fit like a glove on your finger like it had been made for you. The smile on your face was enough confirmation that you liked it. 

You kissed him, the warm metal of the ring pressed against his cheek. It was a feeling he was looking forward to getting used to. To kiss you forever, until you’re old and gray and yelling at kids to get off your lawn. JJ used to have a hard time looking past eighteen, trying to figure out what he’d become if he made it that far. Would he be locked up like every adult in his life used to tell him? Would he end up like his father or the man he used to think was his father? 

But he didn’t have to worry anymore, about any of it. He made it past eighteen and a different path awaited him, a good one, a happy one. 

[chocolilies]

─── SWEAT. ꒱

( ୨ৎ. fushiguro toji x fem!teacher!reader. . .ᐟ

toji comes to pick megumi up from his training, expecting to be met with his white-haired asshole of a teacher, only to meet gojo's newer, cuter replacement.

◟ꪆ୧ slight nsfw (toji stares at reader's tits, reader imagines getting groped by him), au where toji is alive + takes care of megumi, bold yet sneaky flirting, megumi's in middle school. wrote this on a whim bc i need toji BAD.

w.c: 1.6k

also on ao3 + jjk masterlist !

“that’s your dad?”

you’d heard mention of fushiguro toji before, whether it be from his son or from gojo as he had explained how he’d let the “sorcerer killer” live under the promise of taking care of the boy that was now standing at your side. 

“don’t you dare.”

megumi gritted his teeth as he watched you goggle at the man you were approaching, hand wrapped around your wrist as if he was pulling back a dog on a leash, and by the way you were staring at toji, he might as well have been. 

“what!?” you let out an offended gasp, turning to look at your glaring student, tiny face scrunched up in disgust at the mere thought of what was going through your brain. 

“i know what you're like.”

you froze in your place, horrified expression framing your sweaty face as the cicadas roared around you, framing the silence after that comment in an almost comedic manner. 

you watched as megumi continued to walk ahead, a bored look on his face once he turned around to wait for you to catch up at the edge of the tiny wasteland you’d both been training in, letting you wonder as you caught up to him just what gojo had told him before he’d first introduced the both of you.

you started spluttering out a mix of words in disbelief once you reached his side, but whatever you’d tried to say immediately got stuck in your throat as soon as you finally caught a better look at the man that had sparked the short lived argument.  

oh, fuck.

“who’s this?” you watched attentively as the muscles in toji’s arms bulged beneath his tight shirt at the tiniest movement, feeling your mouth water at the mere sight of them. 

god, you felt dirty just staring at him.

“my teacher.” megumi grunted, shoving his backpack off and flinging it into his dad’s chest, walking towards the bus stop further ahead without bothering to say goodbye, knowing he’d see you around sooner or later. 

“I thought that white-haired brat was his teacher,” toji grunted out, flinging the backpack over his shoulder as he turned to look down at you, quirking up a brow as he immediately noticed your nervous demeanour, a drop of sweat dripping down your temple before rolling down your neck and towards your exposed cleavage, green eyes following it’s whole journey and lingering on the spot where it disappeared.  

it’d been a while since toji had stared at someone this way. he hadn't looked twice at anyone, regardless of their attractiveness or willingness, ever since his wife died and tsumiki’s mom left. 

but that amount of time without anyone to touch or kiss or feel would have its toll on anyone, and toji was no exception. 

which is why he initially blamed it on that. 

neediness.

he doesn't feel anything for megumi’s teacher, you’re just too pretty and exposed and worked up to ignore, right? it’s not like he’d actually think of pursuing something with you. 

he snapped out of it once you spoke, expecting to meet an angered expression and an insult about his perversion once he raised his gaze, only to find you straight up ogling his arms and chest. 

the way he stares at your pretty, scrunched up face when you aren't looking, proves him wrong.

initially, you might've been able to attribute your clammy palms and sweaty skin to the blasting summer heat, or to the fact you’d just finished a four hour training session with the tiny grade two sorcerer who gojo had been training for the past few years. 

“I'm his co-worker,” you stuttered out, forcing yourself to look away from the veins that swelled in his arms and up to his green eyes, not wanting the man to see just how much he was affecting you. “satoru’s on a mission, so I'll be taking care of ‘gumi ‘till then.”

toji hummed, taking your gawking as an invitation to do his own, allowing his eyes to trail over your flustered expression and sweaty skin, lingering on the more exposed parts of your outfit, thanking whatever god was up there for the stupid heatwave that had hit their country as of late. 

“mission, huh?” toji snickered, turning his head to look at the boy who was sitting at the bus stop with one of the divine dogs at his side, resting his tired body against its black fur. “how long will y’be around?”

“well, until ‘toru comes back, I guess…” you trailed off, mouth going dry as you watched the man take a tiny step towards you, raising one of those big hands you’d been ogling before to brush against your cheek, a shiver wracking through your whole body at the light contact, his skin burning against yours, making you just how a man that ran as hot as that was able to survive in this weather, especially when he dressed like it was winter.

“y’had some dirt on y’cheek,” toji almost purred out, flicking his fingers to get rid of the grime that had probably stuck to you during the many times megumi’s divine dogs had flung you around. 

“oh, I'm probably covered in dirt,” you laughed out nervously, taking a step back to put the same distance as before between you two, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand while trying to ignore how electrifying his touch had felt. “I always seem to find myself taking an everything-shower after training with ‘gumi, he’s ruthless.”

toji fell silent, watching you as you shook your arms and head, probably trying to get rid of whatever debri that was still stuck to your body, grin pulling at the scar in the corner of his lips. “need me t’clean you up, that what you're saying?”

huh? 

you blinked stupidly as your mind attempted to process what he had just said. were you misunderstanding his words or his tone? or was he really suggesting what your mind had immediately jumped to?

that was not what you were saying, but you certainly would not be complaining if he did. 

you felt your cheeks warm as you imagined what that might look like: big, warm, calloused hands on your skin as you stood under the steady stream of the shower, hot water pouring over the both of you as he dragged a sponge over your skin, free hand resting on your tummy right above where you needed him most, groping and caressing the plus skin, body pressed tightly against his in such a way that you could just feel his growing cock pressing against your ba-

oh, what the fuck.

you imagined punching yourself in the face, snapping you out of the downright filth you were acting out in your mind with a man you had just met, not to mention, the father of your student. 

“jeez, pick your jaw up, ‘m messing with ya.” you grunted as two of his fingers landed under your chin, shoving your mouth shut with a shit-eating grin, clearly enjoying the fact that he had gotten such a reaction out of you with a mere joke. “‘s not appropriate f’me to flirt with ‘gumi’s teacher.”

“s-sorry.” you struggled to even push out that simple word, trying to figure out just what the hell had gotten into you to make you act like this, not even processing the fact that he had just admitted to flirting with you. 

were you ovulating? was it that time of the month already? or was toji’s overwhelming presence truly just enough to get you acting like a bitch in heat?

“old man,” you snapped out of it as you heard megumi shout out for his father from behind you both, “bus is coming.”

toji chuckled, raising a thumbs up to the boy in response before turning back to look at you, taking in your shaky figure with a smirk.

“which means I'll just hafta wait ‘till that blue-eyed brat comes back and you're not his teacher anymore.”

you blinked owlishly up at him, and toji could just see the cogs whirring and moving around in your mind, trying to make sense of what he'd just said. 

“give me y’number once he does. hope that offer to clean you up will still be available by then.” 

god, he was a big fat liar. if he had been telling the truth before, he would not be asking that, he would not be (for once) looking forward to seeing that white haired bastard, as it would mean he would be free to pursue you. 

toji walked away after dropping that bombshell, not having to turn to look at you to know that you were staring at him walk away, ignoring the way his son was glaring at him while he held a hand out to stop the bus. 

“what?” he grinned, pulling their transport passes out as the bus opened its doors, megumi’s divine dog curling around the boy protectively like it usually did. “your teacher's hot,”

“you disgust me,” megumi deadpanned, snatching the pass out of his father’s hand before boarding the bus, dog quickly following up the step with a wag of its tail, phone already out and ready to message tsumiki to complain about their father, leaving toji to do the same. well, not before he turned to sneak a final look at you. 

you had walked away from the field, heading towards a black car nearby he assumed had been sent by the school, phone in hand as you talked into the speakerphone, shaky voice ringing out in such a way even he could hear it. 

“ieiri, how wrong would it be for me to hook up with a future student’s father?”

[moonstruckme]

jilly x reader where the reader gets hypothermia

cw: symptoms of mild hypothermia, (implied?) freezing water, non-sexual nudity

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James half carries you back to the cabin. This is partly because you’re shivering too hard to walk as quickly as you’d like, and partly because your legs simply won’t move the way you tell them to. Your wet lashes feel heavy with the ice crystals you imagine forming on them. 

He passes you off to Lily while he unlocks the front door. She rubs one hand uselessly over your arm through your soaked coat, using the other to unstick a frigid piece of hair from your face. 

They both help you inside. Set you down on the couch, and James makes a sound close to a laugh when you protest about getting wet on his mother’s cushions. 

“Start a fire, please?” Lily is all business, panic making her stern. Or maybe not stern so much as resolved. Her features are set, green eyes alternating between worried and determined, but her hands are characteristically gentle as they unzip your coat and pull you out of it one arm at a time. 

“Love?” 

You realize she’s been talking to you. “Hm?” 

Delicate brows pinch in either concern or relief. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” 

“Oh. Um.” Your chittering makes your words come out jolting and stilted. “Cold.” 

“Tired?” she asks. You put your arms up when she motions for you to, letting her lift your jumper over your head. The thought that you’re the only one getting undressed between your partners doesn’t occur to you; you only know that Lily seems urgent, and you trust her. 

“Ye—yeah.” 

“I think we have an electric blanket around here somewhere,” says James. He’s poking at a log in the fireplace, trying to provoke a bigger flame. “Get her closer to here, love.” 

“I’m still trying to get her out of her wet clothes. Can you help me?” 

James helps you to stand so Lily can tug your trousers off. They stick to your legs but crinkle oddly, stiff with ice. James kisses your temple and murmurs something you can’t quite make out. You feel guilty for ruining what was meant to be a fun afternoon of ice skating on the pond near James’ family cabin. You’ve never heard Lily shout like she did when the ice broke beneath you. 

They wrap you up in an electric blanket and put your hair up in a towel to get it off your neck, and you let James massage warmth into your fingers while Lily makes something warm for you to drink. 

“Jamie,” she calls from the kitchen, “do you all keep a thermometer here?” 

“Um, I’m not sure,” replies James. “If we did, it’d be in one of the drawers in the bathroom.” 

You hear your girlfriend whizz off in that direction. 

“How are you, angel?” James presses a couple of firm, warm kisses to your face, squeezing your hands. “Do you still feel tired?” 

“A little,” you admit. Your shivering has lessened, though. “Is it okay that we left our skates by the pond?” 

“What?” He gives a little laugh. “Yeah, it’s fine. That’s not really the top concern right now, you know?” 

You frown. It’s supposed to snow again tonight. “I don’t want them to get buried…” 

“I’ll go get them later,” James reassures you. He kisses your nose. “Don’t worry about that, lovebug. Just try to get warm, okay?” 

“I sort of feel like you guys are doing all the work for me.” 

James’ laughs as Lily comes to sit beside you. 

“Here, can you keep this in your mouth for me, please?” You nod, but when she slips the thermometer under your tongue she evidently makes a last-minute call to hold it herself instead. Lily’s thumb drags heavily over your cheek. You notice her bottom lip looks colored and bitten. 

“I think I’m okay…” you try to tell her, but stop when she shushes you gently. 

“That’s good, lovely, but don’t talk with this in your mouth.” She gives you a terse smile. 

James transfers both of your hands to one of his, using the other to squeeze her elbow consolingly. Both of your partners watch you intently as you wait. 

When Lily deems it's been long enough and looks at the thermometer, her posture slumps with relief. 

“Oh, it’s—that’s not so bad.” 

James grins, reading over her shoulder. “It must be coming up,” he says confidently. 

You offer your girlfriend a smile. “I told you, I think I’m fine.” 

Lily makes a soft, strangled sound, eyebrows pinching in the moment before she throws her arms around you. You see some of your own surprise reflected in James’ expression as you catch her, bringing her into the heated dome of your electric blanket with you.

“I didn’t know…I was really scared,” she confesses tearily, squeezing you around your neck. 

You rub her back in an attempt to reassure her. Behind her, James is doing the same. He gets his arms around the both of you, holding your shoulders through the blanket. 

“It’s alright,” he says. “We must be doing something right, yeah? Or she wouldn’t be getting better so quickly.” 

Lily exhales a shaky breath. “I am never, ever going ice skating again.” 

“Yes, you are,” you tell her fondly. 

“No. And you shouldn’t either! In fact, I hope our skates do get buried, and neither of you can ever find them.” 

You make a sound of protest, but James speaks over you, “Alright, lovely. We can let nature roll the dice tonight, if that’s what you want.” 

“But James—” 

“Angel, you weren’t witness to your own blue lips,” he tells you, rubbing your shoulder pacifyingly. “I think we’re permitted a bit of overreaction right now. I say bury the skates.” 

You give a little laugh. “You’re both taking this too far. We don’t have to use them, but there’s no reason to leave perfectly good skates out there in the snow.” 

“Mm, let’s say we return to that debate when you’re no longer shivering.” 

You all sit there for a while, holding each other while the fire crackles and warmth seeps into your fingertips. Lily’s hands are actually quite cold around your neck, but you refuse to tell her lest she spring away from you. When the kettle starts to whistle, she sniffs and pulls away anyways, wiping under her eyes. 

“I’ve got it,” says James, standing with a kiss to each of your heads. “What are we having?” 

“Hot chocolate.” She takes a breath, collecting herself. “She needs something with sugar. Thanks, Jamie.” 

You smile at her. “You’re so brilliant. How do you know that?” 

Lily’s lips tilt slightly in response. “I read it somewhere.” 

“So brilliant,” you repeat, kissing her softly on the lips. They’re noticeably warmer than yours, but you feel much more yourself than you had when you first got back to the cabin. “Thanks for helping me.” 

She makes a scoffing sort of noise. It doesn’t sound terribly derisive when it’s bent by fondness like this. Lily touches the backs of her fingers to your cheek, caressing. “You don’t have to thank us. Either of us,” she says. The tears have cleared from her eyes, leaving a raw caring in their wake. “We love you. A lot.” 

Your heart feels more than sufficiently warmed as you close the gap between you again. “I love you a lot, too.”

[retroaria]

Hello! I'm not sure if you write for Karasu from Blue lock but if do you can I request first time hcs for him? If you don't write for him, Sae works too :D

✶ first time!

itoshi sae + karasu tabito x fem!reader

a/n: i definitely wanna do these for all the other guys after my event ends!

˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

➜ itoshi sae

when you and sae first started dating he was quick to try and initiate sex, feeling a bit confused if you were to tell him you wanted to wait.

once you are ready to have sex with him he plays it off like it’s no big deal but he secretly is fighting back his own excitement.

it shows in his eagerness to have you undressed beneath him. he takes your clothes off like a savage and immediately aims to mark you up, kissing and nibbling at your skin as his hands graze your body up and down squeezing and gripping at certain areas. sae is the kind of guy who gets off on the feeling of soft clean skin, so he takes his time appreciating your entire body.

normally he’d be more rough, but for your first time he decides to be a bit more gentle with everything. instead of eating you out like a madman he laps at your clit with a leisurely pace and curls his fingers into you slow but still striking.

he’d fuck you in standard missionary so he can moan softly in your ear and have you moaning in his. also likes to nibble at your neck and jaw.

his pace is at a comfy medium. he just doesn’t have it in him to make his thrusts slow and steady, but he enjoys slowing down a bit if only for the ability to make each thrust hit hard against your sweet spot to ensure your nails keep digging into his shoulders and biceps the entire time (his favorite fucking thing omg).

pull out > condom, unless you ask him to wear one which he would be fine with but he prefers not to. keeps his cock snug between your walls for as long as he possibly can. when sae’s close to orgasm he fully nuzzles his face in your neck and wraps his arms underneath you to pull you impossibly closer. he isn’t a loud moaner but his soft low groans are like audible porn.

sae’s aftercare doesn’t feel like he put in a lot of effort but it’s still good bc he basically just has you do all the stuff he would want to do himself after sex. shower, water, snuggle up.

➜ karasu tabito

he’d be so patient if you wanted to wait for the relationship to get more serious! he’s a player for sure but when he’s locked in he’s locked in.

he would want to make it a romantic and intimate experience for you, but he wouldn’t go all out. he’d take you on a beautiful date before hand and he’d run a nice bath for you after, sweet but not too sweet.

loves foreplay omg don’t get me started.

i headcanon him as a beast in the sheets but on the low he loves slow sensual sex. wants to kiss and lick your entire body, have his face smothered between your legs for as long as possible, rubs his cock between your folds so long he almost cums right then and there before stopping himself. loves the way you whimper for him as his tip glides back and forth against your sensitive clit.

he’s got a cheeky smirk on his face the entire time, even while his eyes flutter shut as he slides his cock between your warm wet walls for the first time.

this might be an odd opportunity but i feel like for your first few times with him he’d really amp up the dirty talk and probably drop it later into the relationship unless you happen to really like it lol. he’d drop himself down so he can speak directly in your ear, telling you how good you’re taking him and how incredible you feel wrapped around his cock between his low groans and thrusts.

look at me trying out new themes!! :D

mdni divider creds: @adornedwithlight so cute :3

[sleepyangelkami]

INDISPOSED d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you always seem to feel more than upset when you're sick. luckily for you, dean's always by your side when you fall ill, no matter the time.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - sick!reader, illness symptoms, flu, dizziness, aches, reader's a little emotional, eating?, crying, mention of reader's lonely past, non-sexual nudity, kinda crybaby!reader, (1) use of y/n, slightly ooc dean, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there's seemingly a tell tale sign of when you're feeling extra poorly, and that's the feeling of water beginning to pool in your waterline.

you couldn't help the dramatics that would take over your body, much less when you find dean sitting in your bedroom, assuring you that it was alright that he'd come home early from his hunt. "you shouldn't have to leave sam alone 'cause of me." you were a sniffling mess at your desk, for two reasons, one being that you were upset and the second being that your nose was so stuffed you could hardly breathe.

"sammy's fine to figure out the rest of this one, baby." dean was sitting on your bed, girly covers and throw pillows surrounding him. "and i don't have to do anything, i'm choosing to be here." dean's voice was all low and soft, the voice he used when you were upset which was seemingly more often than you'd thought.

you heard him shuffle across the room to where you sat on a brown, tattered chair.

he crouched down so he was eye level with you. "come on, sweetheart, you know you're just upset 'cause you feel all sick." his hand was gently tracing your thigh, soothing you from your sniffles. "think you just need to lay down, yeah?"

you mumbled something that he didn't quite catch with a nod.

he waited momentarily but you hadn't made any decision to move. "y/n." your eyes snapped up to meet his. "come lay down."

"okay." was your sheepish response.

dean didn't often call you by your name, he cast it away with all the lovely nicknames he'd picked out for you personally. nobody was baby but his car, until he'd met you. it came so easily, that soft way of loving.

when dean had you finally beneath the blankets, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, half-comforting and half-trying to gauge your temperature.

"where are you going?" your hand reached out for his lower arm.

dean turned down to look at you, a smile softly reaching his lips. "just getting your medication, baby, i'll be back, don't worry." and this time, the kiss pressed against your forehead was purely because he felt like it.

dean was well aware of your inability to take care of yourself. now, he was in no way calling you a nuisance, he just wished you cared for yourself as much as he did. with that being said, he did always love being able to care for you, it was a way that was so different than having to take care of sam his whole life. perhaps it was because this, he wasn't obliged to do, it wasn't expected of him.

he loved taking care of you but if anything were to happen to him... he'd like to know you could take care of yourself, too.

when dean returned to the bedroom, you were passed out asleep against the sheets. the man couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

you were a chatty person, awfully bubbly at times. and dean loved that about you, listening to you babble on about something and when he didn't catch a word he'd ask you to repeat what you said, it was always funny watching as the gears turned in your head, trying to remember.

sometimes you swore you talked so much that you tuned yourself out.

dean didn't though, he listened to every word that spilled from your lips.

but you were chatty with everyone you were close to. god forbid you ever went on a road trip with he and sam.

but with him you could be quiet at times, you still got shy and nervous around him which always made him coo, there was something sweet at the fact you could be so different behind closed doors, so yourself.

and seeing you like this, your lips drew into a pout and pink staining your ill cheeks, well it was rather nice, he thought.

he hated to be so evil as he was to wake you.

"sweetheart." the mere whisper of the name as his hands came down to soothe your arms was enough to have your eyelids peeling open. "sweetheart, c'mon, you gotta take your medicine."

a half-whine fell from your lips as he sat you up against the bed, sitting too so that you could lean yourself against him. dean was suddenly aware of how much hotter your body had gotten. he hadn't been gone long, just a trip to the kitchen to get you a glass of water and the medication he needed, though it'd taken him a while to find it. he had a bad habit of leaving things in strange places and forgetting about it.

he handed you off the capsules and then the glass of water.

"how're you feeling, honey?" the back of his palm pressed against your right cheek then slightly down your top, to your chest. he was like a concerned mother. "you're really hot."

"thanks." you quipped, leaning your hot forehead against his arm and sipping the water he'd given you.

he rolled his eyes at your remark, obviously taking your sickness more seriously than you were. "'m serious, you can't have blankets."

"dean!"

"no."

"dean, 'm cold." you nuzzled yourself further into dean's warm body, a dark grey hoodie coated his form along with black sweatpants, not his usual attire.

"you're not cold." he took your face between his two hands. "you're sick." pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose. you fought the words 'sap' to come from the back of your scratchy throat. "you can have the blankets but i have to take this off, then." you felt him gently pull at the shirt you'd stolen from him, clad on your body.

"deal." you mumbled, feeling a wave of dizziness hit you.

to make matters worse, you shook your head, thinking it would rid of the dizziness.

"hey, don't do that." he steadied your head before taking the glass out from your hands and placing it on the bedside dresser.

you felt his hands on your shirt, slowly pulling it from your frame. you helped by putting your arms in he air, allowing him to pull it off your body and toss it somewhere on the ground.

"want the tv on?" you nodded your head silently as the man rose from his place on the bed, reaching the tv stand where he picked up the remote and switched it on.

aimlessly, you uttered, "my legs hurt." while sliding back under the pretty covers.

he was busy fidgeting with the buttons on the remote. he never did know how to work your tv properly. "'s just cause your sick, it'll go away, baby."

you huffed at his response, laying your head on the pillows while you pulled the blanket close to you. you were cold but it was that sickly cold where you couldn't tell if it was really a chill or perhaps you were so warm that you felt cold, which didn't make a whole pile of sense.

when dean finally climbed back into the bed, your body practically collapsed on top of him.

he laid with an arm behind his neck and the other trailing shapes across your bare back, you lay with your head on his chest, listening to the low tv along with the thumping of his heart.

"are you okay?" you mumbled, voice slick with tiredness. the sickness was weird like that, hitting you suddenly, leaving just as immediately.

dean could have cooed at you. even while you were wrapped up in blankets, sick as a small hospital, you managed to ask him if he was okay.

It was another reason why he liked taking care of you. you took care of each other. "i'm okay."

another hushed mumble. "promise?"

"i promise." he answered honestly, fingers against your skin, moving up and down your back. "get some sleep, 'kay?"

a yawn passed your lips. "okay."

they said sleep was the best medicine, that it cured everything that was curable. well, you weren't sure anyone had said it to you but you just knew that it was said.

you had to beg to differ.

by dinnertime, your temperature was running hot.

earlier was the kind of sick that you could stomach, this was the kind of sick that had you flushed against the headboard of your bed, hands running down your face as you felt your head pound against the back of your eyes.

you could hear dean walk back into the room and you felt guilt soar through your veins.

you knew you were being... difficult to say the least. but you couldn't help it, hot tears gathering at your waterline all over again.

the mattress dipped as dean nudged your arm and you looked up at him with glossy eyes before looking down at the sandwich sitting on a plate in his hands.

"know you said you're not hungry but can you try eat some f'me? 's jam." his tone was all soft and his voice was all quiet. by now, he'd turned off the tv and closed the curtains, noticing how the light had been affecting your eyes. the only light on now was the little lamp sitting on your bedside table so you could actually see your surroundings.

you nodded hesitantly and took the sandwich from him.

dean noticed things about you like nobody else. he very early on found out that you loved jam sandwiches, you loved raspberry jam but you had an awful distaste for strawberry jam so from there on, he never bought strawberry jam on the offhand occurence that you may accidentally use it without looking at the label and get your jam sandwich ruined.

you were halfway through said sandwich when you placed it back on the plate, begging to tear up.

dean immediately took notice of it, taking the plate from you. "wh's wrong, baby? too much?"

you shook your head, sniffling. even the act of shaking your head had you clutching it soon after.

dean tutted, moving your hand away so he could soothe your forehead with a kiss and a gentle movement of his thumb. "poor girl." you heard him mutter under his breath, his brows strewn together in sympathy.

looking up at him, you had those glassy eyes that made his stomach feel almost as nauseous as yours. he didn't have to ask what was troubling you for you answered, anyway, to the silent question behind his eyes. "you're so nice to me."

his heart shattered a little.

it was no supirse that you didn't grow up with much comfort surrounding you and that only got worse as you began to get older. some days, you didn't think you'd ever get the comfort that your body ached for. and then dean winchester walked in, and his one and only goal was to take care of you, was to care for you, was to love you.

so you couldn't help tearing up a little from time to time when you think about the strawberry jam he gave up just for you.

"oh, baby. you're my sweet girl." he pulled you closer to him, putting your forehead against his chest so you could lean your weight on him. "'course 'm nice to you."

he helped you sit on his lap, fully discarding the place wherever his hands could push it to.

then his hands found your body, roaming it with this gentleness yet assertion. you'd put his shirt back on a while ago and discarded the blankets, which he was thankful for. he needed to break your temperature.

you weren't due medication for another two hours and you'd taken all the painkillers you could.

right now, all he could offer was himself.

and that was enough for you.

your arms tightened around his shoulders as you sniffled, tears breaking down your cheeks with a defeated sigh. "hate bein' sick." you uttered, sadness evident in your voice.

"i know, angel, i know." he gently rocked you in his lap, not enough to make your head dizzy but enough to bring you back to the moment, to remind you he was there.

and you stayed like that for seemingly a long time, melting into one another's embrace as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world.

you pressed your flush cheek against the hoodie covering his bare shoulder. the tears eventually dried up and all that was left was your frustrated sighs and mumbles.

"'s okay, sweetheart." he pressed a final kiss to your flushed face. "it'll pass."

and he was by your side as soon as it did.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[mggslover]

Stuck

In which reader finds herself stuck in an elevator with her colleagues.

Pairing: Hotch x Reid x Morgan x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face riding, p in v sex, overstimulation, masturbation, breast play Word count: 5,4k A/n: I'm ovulating, so you know what time it is 🤭 I'm really nervous to post this, so I hope you will enjoy!

“Oh, you guys are such babies!” You laugh as Spencer and Derek refuse to step into the elevator, explaining how they’ve been stuck in one before. 

“It’s not funny, Y/N,” Spencer chimes in. “There are six elevator deaths per year. Not to mention ten thousand injuries that require hospitalization.”   

You roll your eyes at his comment, just as Hotch walks toward the elevator. “See!” You exclaim. “Hotch is joining us, and he saved you last time. We’ll be fine.” You add cheerfully.

“You’re coming?” Hotch asks, holding the elevator door open. You nod, pulling Morgan and Reid with you by their arms. 

You chuckle at their nervous reflections in the mirror as the elevator starts moving. A sudden creak causes Derek to snap his head towards you. “It made the same sound the last time!” You were just about to shut Derek up as the elevator shakes and the lights start flickering. 

“Not again!” Spencer whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut like he’s about to fall to his death at any given moment.

Hotch inspects the tight space, his expression grim. “It seems like the electricity went out…” 

“Actually, there are a lot of reasons why an elevator might stop,” Spencer interjects. “It could be worn-out suspension ropes, and it actually happens quite regularly that the motor overheats the safety sensors of the-“ 

“Let’s just solve this problem, shall we?” You cut him off, nudging Morgan out of the way to hit the red button on the panel. 

“You think that’ll do something?” Morgan asks, brow lifted. 

“It will alert someone that we’re stuck. We have to wait until somebody comes and gets us out of here.” Hotch adds. 

“Well at least I’ll be missing my meeting with Strauss,” I sigh in relief. 

“It was at twelve, right?” Spencer asks. 

“Yeah,” you respond with a nod.

“Statistically the average wait time to be rescued from an elevator is less than an hour,” Spencer continues, checking his watch. “That means you could still make it in time.” 

“Now that’s just what I wanted to hear,” you say sarcastically, earning a grin from Morgan. 

“We can only hope we won’t be in here for that long,” Hotch mutters, his impatience visible as he leans uncomfortably against the elevator doors. 

“Okay… so now what? Want to go over a case to pass the time?” 

“No, no cases please,” Morgan groans. “We’ve had three in a row. I’m done.” 

“Morgan is right. We’ve done enough cases in the past few days.” Hotch agrees. 

You mutter an “alright” as you sit down with your back against the elevator wall, smoothing out the crinkles in your skirt. The others look at you with uncertainty. Eventually Reid decides to sit next to you, exchanging a soft smile. Morgan follows suit, sitting in front of you. Hotch remains standing. You leave him be and turn to Spencer. 

“So Reid, I’m sure you’ve got enough interesting facts to pass the time.” 

Spencer looks surprised by the request, not used to directly being asked to share his facts, but his eyes quickly brighten, eager to share. “Well, actually, there are a lot of interesting things to say about elevators. There are approximately 20 million elevators worldwide,” you chuckle at his obvious enthusiasm. “The first elevator was created in 236 B.C. by Archimedes, a Greek mathematician. He used a water wheel and tied animals together with rope to create a lift mechanism.” You hum in interest. “They used lifts in the Colosseum, right?” 

“Yes! Exactly!” he responds excitedly. “The system was powered by eight men who would turn this massive wooden shaft connected to ropes. It could hold more than 600 pounds!” 

“Oh come on,” Derek says, his hand falling to his knee. “You’re telling me you’re actually interested in the mechanics of ancient elevators?”. 

Hotch glances at Morgan, silently agreeing with Derek’s skepticism. 

“Derek Morgan…” you feign offense, placing a hand on your chest. “Don’t act like I’m not curious about knowledge. At least Spence’s got something interesting to say.” 

Spencer blushes faintly, appreciating your defense. 

“Hey, I know facts too,” Morgan says smugly. “How about there being 7000 languages in the world today.” 

“The overall number is actually closer to 8000,” Spencer corrects him. “You only counted verbal communication.” 

“You guys are going to have a facts competition now?” You ask, bewildered. “It’s way too hot in here. I need some light conversation.”

“I agree,” Hotch mutters. “It is getting a little warm.”

You glance up at the AC in the corner of the elevator, which is clearly not working. It probably shut down along with the power. There’s a brief silence before Reid speaks up again. 

“I never thought I’d be trapped in an elevator with my colleagues,” he muses. “It’s a little cliché.”

“Cliche, how?” Hotch asks, intrigued despite himself. 

“You know how, in movies, a group of people get stuck in an elevator and they have to learn to overcome their differences to escape?” 

You shake your head in confusion, “I think I only know the dirty movies where they get stuck in an elevator,” you laugh. 

Spencer blinks at you, clearly thrown off. Derek chuckles at the scene, and even Hotch manages a faint smile. 

“I should’ve known you’ve only watched the dirty ones,” Derek teases. 

“What about you, pretty boy?  Ever seen a dirty movie?” He asks Spencer, grinning. 

Reid looks flustered. “I grew up in Vegas… I’ve seen some things.” 

“Ah, Vegas,” you say, sighing dreamily. “The place where you can’t drive for a minute without seeing a giant porn billboard.”

Morgan grins, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “Sounds like my kind of place.” 

You laugh and kick his leg playfully. Morgan winks at you, enjoying the lighthearted banter. You glance up at Hotch, who is still the only one standing. 

“What about you, Hotch? What’s your favorite dirty movie?” You ask with a mischievous grin, but your expression quickly drops when you see his stern look. 

“Watch it, Y/L/N.” Hotch warns.

“Come on, Hotch,” Derek says. “Let loose a little!”

“See it as the universe’s sign.” I press on. 

“How is being stuck in here a sign of the universe?” Hotch asks, brows raised.

“Well, no way would you willingly take a break yourself. Now the universe got you stuck in here and is forcing you to relax,” you explain, with a playful gleam in your eyes. 

To everyone’s surprise, he slowly lowers himself to the floor, sitting down next to you. 

You exchange surprised looks with Derek and Spencer. All amazed at how you managed to get Hotch to sit down.

The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, scared to say something that will make Hotch change his mind. You’re glad he joined you, but it’s hard to ignore the rising temperature now that another person is sitting in close proximity to you. 

“How long has it been?” you ask, fanning yourself with your blazer. “I’m starting to sweat.”

“Thirty-five minutes so far,” Derek replies, following your lead and fanning himself. 

Hotch looks mildly uncomfortable, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Spencer, however, looks the most miserable using the collar of his sweater vest to wipe his face. 

“You guys should take your jackets off,” you suggest, eyeing Morgan and Hotch. 

You don’t need to tell Derek twice, as he removes his jacket, revealing a black short sleeved shirt that looks a lot more comfortable. Hotch looks reluctant to do the same, but eventually gives in, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt collar. You take a peak as he reveals his broad, muscled shoulders for a moment, before readjusting his shirt. Hotch notices your glance and his eyes shoot up to yours, catching you in the moment as your cheeks flush. You quickly look away. 

“Oh, she’s enjoying the view, alright,” Derek smirks and you give him a warning glance.

“Shut up. I was just surprised Hotch would give in.” 

Morgan grins and nudges Hotch with his elbow, “Look at that, Hotch. You’re surprising us all today. First you smile and now you’re taking your jacket off. What’s next, dancing a jig?” You and Spencer snort at his comment. Hotch rolls his eyes at Morgan’s teasing but can’t help a small smile from appearing on his lips. 

Spencer struggles with his vest and you give him a hand. “Here, let me help you”, you say as you scoot closer, pulling the vest over his head. The fabric feels soft, but incredibly warm in your hands. You don’t know how he managed to keep it on for this long. Reid is taken aback for a moment, but mutters a soft thanks. Morgan and Hotch watch the exchange with interest, clearly amused at the sight of you being so forward with Reid.

“Now it’s your turn, you’re the one who insisted,” Morgan states, and you can’t help but agree as you take your blazer off, giving a satisfied hum at the immediate relief.

“I’ll open up some buttons too, if you don’t mind,” you announce as your fingers start working on your blouse. You don’t give them a chance to respond, since it seems only fair. Their eyes widen at your gesture, all of them staring at the sight of your blouse slightly opening up. Morgan lets out a low whistle, “Now that’s a nice view.”

“You’re insufferable,” you scoff as you stop unbuttoning, showing just a hint of your lacy bra. Morgan’s eyes linger on the sight, clearly enjoying the view. Hotch and Reid look like they’re struggling to keep their cool. Reid is the most flustered of all, turning bright red as he focuses on his hands. Morgan glances around at the others, seeing them struggle to keep themselves composed. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, enjoying the effect you’re having on them. “You know, you’re driving all of us a little crazy here, sweetheart.” 

You let out a small huff, “Give me a break. You’re wearing shortsleeves, I’m the one wearing a blouse.” 

Hotch speaks up, his gaze lingering on your blouse. “That blouse does seem a bit warm.” 

“Thank you!” You say, glad someone is on your side. 

Hotch eyes stay focused on you though, or specifically the bit of exposed collarbone and the lace that’s hugged around the swell of your breast. Your breathing heaves when you find Spencer taking occasional peaks as well, watching with a mixture of awe and embarrassment, finding difficulty in looking away. 

“Let’s just all take our shirts off, I want it to be fair”, you quickly exclaim, done with the heavy tension that’s driving you crazy. Hotch and Morgan exchange amused glances as Spencer eyes turn big, taking in your proposal. 

“All our shirts, are you sure about that?” Derek asks, a hint of surprise in his voice. 

“Then at least you won’t eye me like that.” 

“Oh, I think I’ll eye you only more.” Derek teases, licking his lips. 

“Just take your damn shirt off.” 

Derek chuckles and raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. No need to get feisty.” He says as he lifts his shirt off in a smooth motion. It’s a known fact that Derek is jacked, but seeing him in a setting like this, abs glistening with sweat and pupils still dilated from looking at you, is on a whole ‘nother level. 

You’re glad the attention is taken away from your peering eyes as Hotch follows suit, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a clearly defined muscular chest with just a hint of hair. You start doubting your suggestion as it feels like the room is only growing hotter. You look over at Spencer, seeing whether he’ll be the next. Spencer hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting between the other’s bare chests and your unbuttoned blouse. His chest heaving with his breath, suggesting that he’s more affected than he’s letting on. 

“Come on, pretty boy. Join the party.” Derek says.

“I’ll go first,” you assure Spencer, not wanting him to suffer under peer pressure. Your hands start working on the buttons. Spencer’s eyes widened at the scene in front of him.

“See, it’s not that hard,” you reassure Spencer, folding your blouse and placing it next to you. 

“I don’t know about that. You’re making things pretty hard, baby girl.” Morgan comments, making you laugh. 

“You’re way too dirty for your own good.” 

Morgan grins. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you. You’re looking mighty tempting right now.”

You softly smile at the compliment and focus back on Spencer. “You’ll feel a lot cooler, I promise,” you encourage. 

“I don’t know. I’m not as… toned as the others.” It hurts you to hear how he’s comparing himself to his colleagues. 

“Do you truly think I care about that?” You ask him. “It’s not a competition. I just want you to feel comfortable,” you speak genuinely. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of mockery or deception. When he finds none, his face softens and he nods. He lifts his shirt over his head, revealing a body no less impressive than the others. 

“Not too bad, pretty boy. You’re looking pretty good without that vest on.” Derek compliments. 

“You do,” You agree, as you fold his shirt and place it on top of my blouse. Spencer gives you a sheepish smile, grateful for your help. Glad he decided to take his shirt off as he felt the cool air hit his chest, “Yeah, that does feel better.” 

You look around the room, the scene for sure one to be put down in the history books of the BAU. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve entered a new step in our colleague bonding,” you awkwardly chuckle, trying to lighten the mood but the air feels charged with an unspoken tension that’s impossible to ignore. You can feel their eyes on you, the way they linger, the weight of their gazes following your every movement. You try to ignore it, to stay professional, but your body betrays you. You shift slightly, adjusting your skirt, and that’s when you feel it - the subtle brush of Hotch’s fingers caressing your arm.

You swallow hard as you look away. The air around you is suddenly too tight. You want to curse your body as your nipples harden under his steady gaze, there being no way to blame it on the cold. Derek notices the exchange and leans in, the heat between you two palpable. 

His voice is low and husky, “You're all worked up, sweetheart. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.” 

Your pulse quickens, the sound of your heartbeat almost drowning out his words. “I’m not the only one,” you counter, voice quieter, but the challenge in it is unmistakable. You feel Spencer shift next to you, his body tense as he feels like he’s been caught staring at your chest. “Don’t be shy, genius,” Derek teases. “We’re all thinking the same thing right now.” You can’t help but smile at Spencer’s flustered look. “It’s… It’s hard not to, when you-” He cuts himself off, his voice faltering as his eyes dart away from your breasts. 

Hotch is still standing by the door, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches the dynamic play out. “We’ve been stuck in here long enough. I think it’s safe to say we all want and feel the same thing.” The air thickens with desire as he dares to say the thought that’s been occupying everyone’s mind. You glance at the others, seeing how Spencer is adjusting himself in his pants and the way Derek is watching you, his gaze so intense it almost feels like he’s touching you. 

“Guess it’s only fair if we all just… give in to it,” you murmur, your eyes flicking between them. The suggestion is there, unspoken but understood. 

From there on everything feels like a blur. You hear Hotch growl behind you as he wraps his bicep around your neck, pulling you in as his lips crash against yours. You whimper against his mouth, which gives him the opportunity to let his tongue slide in. You welcome his tongue with yours as your hand moves to squeeze the arm around your neck, making full use of the circumstances to feel up on his muscles. 

“You’re always driving me crazy when wearing this skirt,” Hotch groans in your ear as his teeth pull on your earlobe. You can find no other way to respond than let out a high pitched sound of enjoyment as his free hand kneads your ass through your pencil skirt. Spencer watches the scene unfold in front of him. How his boss roughly grabs and kisses you, manhandling you. 

 “I- I don’t know about this…” Spencer stammers. 

Morgan turns to him, breaking the intense gaze he had on you and Hotch. “Don’t worry Reid, she’s enjoying it.” 

“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, uncertainty in his voice as Hotch is pulling on your hair, giving him access to plant kisses and bites on your neck. 

Morgan grins, “Let me show you how sure I am,” he says as he steps towards you and Hotch. He rolls your skirt up to your stomach and lets his fingers slide over your panties, cursing when it easily slips between your folds, creating a wet sound. You moan at the friction, not in the state to feel embarrassed by how wet you are. 

“See Reid, she loves it,” Derek points out, licking his lips as he pulls your damp panties to the side. Spencer lets out a groan as Derek reveals your glistening pussy, his hand subconsciously squeezing the bulge in his pants for any form of release.

“Let me see,” Hotch insists, removing his lips from your neck. Derek slides a finger through your folds and proudly displays the stickiness to Hotch. 

“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?,” Hotch whispers, his nose pressed against the side of your face. “Just been begging to get in a situation like this so we could all fuck you the way you deserve.” You whimper at his dirty words and hot breath on your skin. Your legs feel like jelly as he grinds himself against your ass. Derek continues to apply pressure with his hand as he lets his fingers rub up and down your lips and clit. 

Spencer’s eyes are burning holes in your chest. He just can’t understand how no one has touched your lovely tits, while they’ve been teasing him the entire time. 

“You can come here Spence,” you purr, hypnotizing him to walk towards you. He swallows as he’s close enough to touch you, close enough to hear all the little sounds you’re making as you’re being touched all over. 

“Can I-?” You don’t let Spencer finish his question as you quickly nod, throwing your head back as his finger grazes over your nipple, sending a direct spark of pleasure to your clit. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers mostly to himself in awe as he cups your breast, the shape fitting perfectly in his large hand. 

“Thank you,” you whisper back. It’s ironic how his sweet compliment is the thing that's making you shy.

Derek slips a finger inside of you with ease, and you bite your lip to hold back your mewls. “Don’t do that. I like the way you sound.” Spencer encourages, resulting in another moan from you, loving the effect his words have on you. 

Hotch unclasps your bra from behind and Spencer helps him by pulling your straps down, letting your breasts fall free. Hotch grabs your left breast, kneading it with his strong, calloused hands as he rolls your nipple in between his fingers. Spencer uses the momentary distraction to bend down and experimentally licks your nipple, humming at the sensation. He gives a couple more licks to your breast as he pulls your nipple in between his lips, sucking on it as he flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud. 

You feel overwhelmed by the way all of your erogenous zones are stimulated at once; Hotch licking and biting on your neck and ear, while massaging your breast and grinding his hardness against your ass. Spencer’s swollen lips and wet tongue tracing over your nipple as Derek caresses your thighs as he adds a second finger into your pussy. You realize that this is what pleasure is supposed to be like. The zones on your body are all connected and you haven’t experienced true bliss until those spots get triggered at the same time. 

“Morgan, is she ready?” Hotch asks, breathing heavily. 

“More than ready, sir,” Derek grins as he takes a step back. He lets his fingers slide out of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact, but then Hotch turns you around so that your chest is pressed up against the elevator doors where he was standing. 

“I need you for myself,” he groans. Derek tosses a condom from his jeans and Hotch catches it, ripping the package with his teeth while pulling his trousers down to his knees, not wanting to let a single moment go to waste. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he slowly enters you. 

“Oh my god… I feel so full,” you whine and you swear you could feel him grin as you register that he’s not even fully inside of you. You let out a long breath as you feel his balls make contact with your ass. 

“You’re doing okay there, princess?” Derek chuckles and you nod. Hotch slowly moves his length out of you as he slams his hips back in with a groan. You gasp as you wrap your hand around the back of his head, keeping yourself steady as he continues thrusting into you. His growls feel hot against your neck. His sweaty chest pressed up against your back, leaving you completely in his grasp.

“You feel that angel? How your pussy swallows my cock?” You let out a cry as you nod your head in agreement. 

“I don’t understand Y/N. You’re a big girl, use your words.” 

“Oh god…’’ Your head spins as he pounds into you. “I’m not going to tell you again Y/N, use your words.” He orders. 

“Yes!’’ you cry out. ‘’God yes Aaron, it feels so good. I can feel you so deep inside of me.” 

“Say my name again.” He moans as his hand trails down your stomach until it reaches your swollen bud. “Aaron, please… I’m so, so close.” He gives some quick taps to your clit, making you squirm in pleasure as your knees give out. His strong hands grip you by the waist and he hoists you back up on his dick. “I’m almost there honey, you can keep it up, be good for me.” 

You let out a string of whines as he uses the palm of his hand to swiftly move against your folds, indirectly bringing pleasure to your clit. You can’t take it any more, pressing your nails into his arms as you crouch down in front of him, shaking as your release hits you. Hotch groans loudly as his dick slips out of your pussy. His dick twitches as he takes off the condom, painting your back with hot spurts of cum.

You have your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as you’re still riding down your orgasm. You hum as you feel the soft material of Spencer’s sweater vest against your back, cleaning you up. 

“You okay?” Spencer asks, kneeled in front of you. You nod your head and softly smile at his tenderness. 

“Yeah. I feel really, really good.” You answer, making Spencer return your smile. With him in front of you, you notice the visible outline of his bulge pressed against his thigh and reach out to touch it. Your fingers lightly brush over his length, causing him to shudder. 

“Do you want me to take care of you?” You ask sensually, looking in his eyes. 

“Not really,” he responds, taking you by surprise. He sees your expression and quickly corrects himself. “It’s not like I don’t want you to! I’d- I’d love you to do…”, he’s not actually sure what you planned on doing to him. “Whatever you would do. I just-,” his voice softens, meeting your gaze. “I really need to know what you taste like.” 

Your cheeks warm, feeling your arousal grow. “Okay,” you exhale. Spencer extends his hand, helping you up. You find your blazer and bundle it up for Spencer to lay his head on. You’re amazed at how willing he is to get down on the floor, ready to eat you out in a very nontraditional and arguable unsanitized way. You hover over his face as you get down on your knees, letting out a hum as his breath tingles your pussy. Spencer kneads your calves and runs his hands up the back of your thighs. He tilts his head up, placing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.

“Feels good,” you mumble. Spencer responds with a hum against your skin, the vibration causing you to moan. He grabs your thighs, slowly pulling them further apart. “I can’t wait to taste you,” he admits, sticking out his tongue and licking a stripe up your folds. You moan, arching your back. Through hooded eyes you spot the figure of Hotch. He’s sitting against the wall in front of you, lazily stroking his half hard length as he stares at you. 

Just when you were about to question where Morgan was, you catch him in your periphery. He holds your gaze as he approaches, coming to a stop right in front of you. His belt buckle hangs open, but it doesn’t look like he’s touched himself. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d really like to take up on that offer genius here denied.” You grin at him, hands reaching out to his belt. Spencer is keeping himself busy, licking and sucking up your juices. You pull Derek’s pants down, gasping as his dick springs free, slapping against his happy trail. You groan in delight as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He tilts his head back at the contact. “Fuck baby, your hands feel so warm and soft.” You lean forward and let some of your spit dribble down on his dick, making him hiss. You move your thumb in circles over his tip, mixing your saliva with his precum. When it feels like it’s wet enough, you move your hand up and down his length in a steady motion.

His tip grows red and you cannot resist licking your lips before putting your mouth on him. He feels heavy in your mouth as you take him in deeper, stimulating him with your tongue as you suck. His hands tangle in your hair, holding you as he moves in sync with your movements. 

Spencer moves a hand up the curve of your ass while he uses the other to unbuckle his belt. He slides his hand in his pants, rubbing himself over his boxers as he relishes in your taste. His lips nibble on your labia as his nose tickles against your clit. 

“Don’t get distracted, baby girl,” Derek states, softly pushing your head back down. You swallow around him and try to up your pace. Derek takes your breast in his hand, massaging it. As your nipples harden he takes one in between his fingers, pulling on it. You gasp at the sensation, making his dick slide deeper in his throat. 

“Fuck! Right there baby, that feels so good,” he pants. You blink away tears, continuing the steady movement of your head and swirls of your tongue. 

Spencer’s dick starts feeling too hot in his boxers and he pulls it out, so that it lays against his stomach. Your pussy is absolutely dripping because of the swipes of Spencer’s tongue and the taste of Derek in your mouth. Spencer can’t keep up with licking you clean, your wetness dripping down his chin. He reaches out to grab his length, the skin to skin contact overstimulating him. 

You notice Spencer getting restless underneath you. Derek’s dick pops out of your mouth. “Are you okay, Spence?” You ask. He hums against your clit in response, you let out a high pitched moan and instinctively bend your knees. “Sorry,” you apologize as you want to tilt your hips back up, but Spencer pulls you back down by your thighs, making you sit on his face.

“Oh god…” You moan as he starts devouring you. He keeps a hand firm on your ass as he starts jerking himself off to the beautiful sounds that you’re making. You lazily tug on Derek’s cock, too distracted by Spencer’s tongue. 

“Oh Spencer, I’m going to cum,” you whimper, mouth open and brows furrowed in pleasure. You start grinding yourself on his tongue, seeking your release. You find the perfect spot and Spencer presses the tip of his tongue against your clit, as you fall undone. Spencer laps up your juices and squeezes the load out of his dick as it splatters on his belly. You lift your hips to give Spencer some space. He moves away, joining you on his knees as he sits behind you, pressing featherlight kisses to your back. 

“I’m not gonna last that much longer,” Derek announces, who’s been stroking himself to your orgasm. “Come here, then,” you invite as you take him back in your mouth. Placing a hand on his thigh for support, you use all of the energy that is left in you to suck him off. Your free hand reaches out to play with his balls, which seems to be the trigger for him.

“Fuck, Y/N, baby, I’m going to cum!” He groans deeply as he fills your mouth. You quickly swallow his load, eyes watering as he pulls you in by your head, needing your lips on him as he rides out the aftershocks. 

“Fuck… You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He sighs, letting go of your hair so that you can catch your breath. 

-

“Who the hell is in there?” 

The voice outside is sharp and gruff. Everyone’s heads whip around, startled. Hotch swiftly buckles his belt as he strides towards the elevator doors.

“This is SSA Aaron Hotchner of the BAU. I’m stuck here with three of my agents.” 

The voice responds quickly, dripping with disbelief. "Why didn’t you morons use the emergency button?"

Your colleagues look at each other, then shift their gaze to you, all with accusing looks plastered on their faces.

"Hey, don’t look at me! I’m the first one that pressed the red button!" You say in defense. 

The voice outside huffs in frustration. "Red? It's a black button."

You blink in surprise, your gaze snapping to the panel. You crawl up to get a better look, and sure enough, there's a black button, boldly labeled ‘EMERGENCY.’

"What in the world?" you mutter under your breath. "Then what the hell is the red button for?!"

The voice outside laughs sarcastically. "How the hell am I supposed to know? I’ve been working here for six months. Don’t blame me because you can’t read." He pauses, clearly shaking his head. "FBI agents, my ass."

You blink in disbelief. You share an incredulous glance with Derek, then burst out laughing, your frustration giving way to amusement. "Seriously?" you mutter, shaking your head. 

Derek notices how Spencer’s been unusually quiet. “Speak up, kid,” he urged. 

“I’ve known what the buttons do the entire time,” he says, voice casual.

You and Hotch both turn to look at him, eyes wide. “What?!” You both exclaim at the same time. 

Spencer shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. “I told you about those movies where people overcome their differences to try to escape. I wanted to see how we would solve it.”

Derek’s mouth drops open. “You’ve been sitting here the whole time knowing exactly what to do and didn’t say anything?!” 

Spencer smiles, looking almost proud of himself. “It’s a team-building exercise,” he says matter-of-factly. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy it.”

You shake your head, laughing in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, Reid.”

As if on cue, the elevator jolts, and the soft ding of the doors opening fills the space.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 7

MDNI // 18+ content

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 6.7k approx (part 6)

Chapter Summary: It's y/n's final encounter with all 8 members.

A/n: Hi Hi!!! So… here is the final installment of the series. As I anticipated, it was exhausting to write for so many participants, and my vocabulary started to dry up towards the end. But I am really pleased with how it played out. It was difficult to give everyone equal attention, so I hope I haven’t left anyone out too much (or at all! Fuck! Imagine forgetting to include a member entirely?) 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the following 6k + words of smut.

CW under the cut

CW: group sex, 8 guys x 1 fem, oral sex (m and f rec), spanking, fake knife play, masturbation, squirting, multiple orgasms, double pen (2 holes), anal sex, cum eating, name calling (baby girl, good girl, whore, etc), creampies, angst. Please let me know if I have forgotten anything significant and I will add to the CW.

>>>>>

You’re given yet another oversized button down shirt to wear, and instructed to wait in the Chief’s office to rest and wait for something to eat.

You really have lost track of time. It’s definitely daylight outside, but whether it’s late morning or early afternoon, you can't tell.

The creak of the door interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to find Felix returning with a tray of sandwiches and a big jug of water.

“Hungry?” He says cheerfully, like he hadn’t just fucked your brains out, and sets the tray down on the coffee table, like he hadn’t just double penetrated you on it with Chief Chan less than an hour ago.

You take a sandwich, scoffing it down quickly, and reach for a second piece. You’re absolutely famished.

Felix watches you and chuckles, then fetches his camera from the drawer and returns to sit beside you.

“Want to see what I captured?” He asks eagerly.

You stop chewing and look at him uncertainly.

“They’re really beautiful.” He adds.

You hesitate, then slowly nod. “Sure.”

“Great. So many pretty bruises and marks.” he coos. “Look.” He flicks to the cut on your neck. A small, red nick from Jeongin. There’s a flicker of an ache between your legs.

“Then,” His breath shakes as he takes in the next photo. It’s of your sore, red ass, and your puffy, swollen pussy lips. You whimper ever so slightly at the image. You look so used, so utterly ruined.

Then Felix shows you your bruised nipple.

You swallow your mouth full of food and bite your lower lip. Fuck, these photos stir up the desire, the need, to be fucked hard, rough, and like your’re nothing but a toy.

“You like that, huh?” Felix notices the effect the photographs are having on you. “You’ll get a copy of these, don’t worry.”

“I will?” You squeak and imagine future you laying on your bed masturbating with photos in hand.

“Of course.” He laughs kindly, and pops the camera down on the table and pours you a big glass of water. “Here. Drink this. You’ve got a big session shortly.”

“Do you do many gang bangs?” You ask casually, taking the glass and gulping down half of it in one go.

“Not often, no.” He admits, rubbing his hands nervously.

“Oh!” You blush. God, you really are one of a kind.

“I mean, it has happened, you’re not the only one or anything, don’t worry.” He scrunches his nose up in thought. “Usually, the client wants either several one on one interactions, or maybe up to three of our guys.”

You suck in your lower lip worriedly.

“I promise we’re experienced in a gang bang, or… running a train…whatever you wanna call it. It’s not going to be a clumsy, fumbling mess.” He reassures you.

With that you burst out laughing, relaxing a little. “A clumsy, fumbling mess?”

“Hey!” He laughs too. “You’re going to lose count of how many times we make you come.”

“I don’t doubt you for a second, Officer.” You wink.

>>>>>

Felix stays with you until it’s time to go, and you’re told that the final session will take place in the open office area where the officer's desks are located.

“They’ve added a few bits and pieces to make things more comfortable.” Felix mentions as you both walk down the hall.

You’re taken to the open office area where all the officer’s desks are, but there is also now a tatty couch at the end of the room and a random mattress in the middle of the floor.

Everyone’s waiting for you. The officers are all sitting at their desks, and Detective Minho and Chief Chan sit on the couch.

Most look hungry, a couple angry, especially Minho, and Han looks like he’s trying to contain his excitement. You don’t dare look at Jeongin.

Felix leaves your side to take his seat, leaving you standing in front of an unoccupied desk. You suddenly feel shy, your eyes fixed to the mattress on the floor.

“Strip for us, babygirl.” The Chief instructs.

You suck in an anxious breath as you bring your fingertips to the top button of the shirt, and you bravely look up at each of the eight men. Their eyes are glued on you, and you realize this is going to be your last encounter with them. 

Determined to not let nerves get in the way, you decide you want to make the most of this, and put on a bit of a show for them. They pleased you so well, why not let them know just how much?

Your gaze turns seductive as you perch yourself on the edge of the desk and slowly unbutton the shirt, revealing the skin between your breasts, then dropping the garment off your shoulders and onto the desk.

Gasps of “fucks!” echo around the room and you smile inwardly.

“Play with yourself. Spread your legs.” Chan says with a strained voice.

Resting your left leg on the swivel chair in front of  you, you open your thighs for the men.

“Wider.” The Chief barks.

You suck in your lower lip, plant your other foot on the desk and spread yourself wide open, displaying your cunt for the whole room to see.

“Play with yourself.” Another instruction.

You begin by squeezing a breast and rocking your hips. You pinch your nipple, then pop your finger in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around your digit to get it nice and wet, then bring it back to your nipple, tweaking it between your thumb and forefinger. 

Han palms his crotch, and Changbin’s lips are slightly parted as he concentrates on what you’re doing to yourself. You watch him gulp as you coat your fingers with saliva again and bring them between your legs. You sigh as you drag your fingers through your folds, and rub circles on your clit.

Your cheeks flush as your body is filled with heat, and your cunt aches for more. Spreading your fingers in a V shape, you spread your lips to expose your entrance. It’s leaking already, so you use it to coat your outer lips and clit. 

A whimper leaves your lips when you slip a finger inside yourself. Everyone watches in awe as you slip in a second, pushing all the way in so you can use the palm of your hand to grind against your clit.

You curl your fingers, digging into that spongy spot, and you become wetter than ever. The sounds of your soaking pussy that fill the room can only be described as squelching. Your eyes flutter closed as you surrender to the pleasure, your core tightening more with every scrape against your g-spot. You’re not certain what each of the men are doing, but you’re sure you saw a few with their cocks out, stroking them, preparing for what they’re going to do to you.

Your breath quickens with every moment that passes, until you’re panting for release, your chest heaving and flushed. The tension in your core is about to snap.

You rock your hips, grinding on your hand, chasing your climax, and opening your legs as wide as they can possibly go, so that every single one of the men can see your cunt sucking and gripping on your fingers.

You’re so close you cry out desperately with the need for release. Your eyes squeeze tightly closed, your thighs tremble then shake uncontrollably. It’s happening. You’re coming. Your walls grip your fingers, squeezing tight like a vice, then start pulsing around them. You keep finger fucking yourself frantically, as clear liquid spurts out of you, splashing your hand and trickling on the floor.

You throw your head back, panting, trying to catch your breath, while continuing to fuck yourself more gently, easing yourself back to earth. You slip your fingers out and rub a few lazy circles around your lips and clit as your heart rate comes down.

Eventually, you open your eyes to a still and silent room. They are all staring at you.

Changbin is the first to do anything. He stands and walks over to you, Felix on his heels. They come up to either side of you. “That was the sexiest thing we’ve ever seen.” Whispers Changbin in your ear. “Now we need to play with you. You got us all so hard.”

He plants a hot wet kiss on your neck while his hand finds your breast and squeezes it. Felix turns your head towards him. “Perfectly pretty.” he sighs and takes you in a feral tongue kiss. His hand slides down the front of your body to your pussy and slides two fingers inside your heat, gently pumping them in and out of you.

When you break the kiss, Changbin gently turns your chin so he can kiss you, his hand immediately finding your breast again. You moan into his mouth as they play with your body, making you melt. You close your eyes, focusing on how sensual they are being, when you feel two more hands on your inner thighs, pushing them wide. A wet mouth presses up against your core and an eager tongue explores your folds.

You look down and gasp, as the person you least expected is eating you out like a starved man. Seungmin. You moan as you watch him lap at your pussy, wrapping his mouth around your clit and humming. Then taking his tongue to your entrance and pushing it inside you.

“Oh God… Fuck!” you choke when he licks a long stripe back up to your clit.

Felix and Changbin’s hands and mouths are still everywhere, all over your body. Felix is latched onto a nipple and Changbin is sucking love bites along your collarbone. 

You rock and squirm in their hold, as Seungmin threatens to rip an orgasm from you. But they hold you firm, forcing you to take everything.

You’re getting close, and Seungmin knows it, so he stops entirely and stands up. You furrow your brow and whine in protest, but he smirks at how pathetic you’re being. 

“I’m first.” He announces to everyone. 

“Yah! I haven’t had her in ages. It’s my turn.” Changbin protests, but Seungmin has already tugged you away and is bending you over a different desk. He slaps you, hard, on your sore ass, making you cry out, then with one hand wrapped around your hair for leverage, he sinks into you.

He doesn’t give you any time to adjust before he’s slamming himself into you at a barbaric pace.

“I think everyone is treating you too nice, Princess. Someone needs to remind you just what you signed up for.” He digs his fingers into your hips, while with the other hand yanks you by your hair so your back is curved. The angle causes his cock to bash into your cervix cruelly, and you sob. But he doesn’t stop. Harder. Harder, he fucks into you, teaching you a lesson. Reminding you not to get too comfortable here.

“Time to choke on a cock while I rail you.” He snarls as Han comes to sit on the desk. 

“Baby. I need your pretty mouth around me.” Han says in a deep, almost bedroom, voice. 

Seungmin doesn’t even try to cooperate or slow down, he just digs both hands into your hips, and fucks you like he’s an animal, while you wrap a hand around Han’s cock and try to sink your mouth over it. The man’s cock is beautiful, and delicious, and you moan around it as you try to take all of him in. 

You’re not able to go slow, or take your time, as with every savage thrust from Seungmin forces you down Han’s cock in an uncontrolled way.

But Han seems to like it like that. Every time you gag, he groans and pushes his hips up a little. “That’s it baby, a little more. A little more and I’ll be completely inside you.”

You prepare yourself to take the rest, but Seungmin grabs the back of your head and forces you down the rest of the way. The choking, gurgling sound is obscene. The two men love it. So much so, that Han blows his load straight down your throat, and Seungmin coats your inner walls, causing you to come unexpectedly.

Shaking, you lift off Han’s cock, and he leans down to kiss you sloppily. “Thank you.” he whispers.

There’s no thank you from Seungmin when he pulls out. Just him spreading your ass cheeks and calling you a slut when his cum oozes out and dribbles down the back of your thigh.

As your breath begins to return to normal your eyes catch Jeongin. He’s now sitting leaning back on the couch, faux knife in hand and an unhinged look in his eye. He licks the blade and arches his eyebrow, waiting for you.

“You think I’m mean?” Whispers Seungmin in your ear. “You need to go fuck him now.” He nods his head towards Jeongin and slaps you on the ass again.

As you walk towards the crazed officer, cum still dripping out of you, you glance around the room. Everyone is naked now, except for Jeongin and Minho. Your gaze lingers on the Detective, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You can’t read his expression either, but you don’t have time to dwell on that. Jeongin has he dick out ready.

“How do you want me, Officer?” You say coyly, standing in front of him.

“Turn around. Straddle me. I want everyone to see me buried inside you.”

You do as he says, placing a foot on either side of him and slowly impaling yourself on his length. The fake knife immediately comes to your throat and you feel a thrill course through your body.

“Lean back and fuck me.” He whispers. You rest your back on his chest and slowly grind on his cock, as Seungmin’s cum and your juices gather at the base. This position drags him against your insides deliciously, and the way he grinds back makes you bite your lip and moan. 

He reaches around and drags the tip of the blade over your tits then down your stomach. You pretend the blade is real, imagining that with each heave of your body, the blade could cut you. You shudder at the thought and your cunt squeezes. Jeongin laughs, noticing how much you enjoy knife play. He drags the blade down between your legs and drags it from where he’s buried inside you up over your clit. 

You whimper. He does it again. Your eyes roll back into your head. He’s going to make you come all over his knife if he keeps doing this. Again he drags it over your clit, then brings the blade to your mouth. 

“Lick it.” He growls low. You do, moaning at the taste of yourself. 

Hyunjin kneels between yours and Jeongin’s legs, biting and licking his bottom lip, before leaning in and lapping at your clit.

You moan loudly at the softness of his lips against your swollen center, and he smiles against you. Then he’s messy, sucking, nipping, licking your pussy, even giving the base of Jeongin’s cock some attention when you lift off enough.

You’re covered in saliva, and sweat drips from Hyunjin’s forehead and hair onto your body. 

Then the knife slides back down, between your folds, and over your clit. All while Hyunjin laps you up. His tongue presses on the blade, pushing it firm against your clit, the pressure making you almost explode. Then he pulls away and you whine in protest. But he just merely looks up at you with an expression that makes your skin blush. 

He brings his attention back to your pussy, spreading your lips apart with his fingers. He admires your pretty hole being stretched and stuffed with cock, and your swollen clit, that’s being teased by Jeongin’s knife.

Jeongin takes this opportunity to grind the side of the knife against your clit frenziedly while he fucks up into you wildly. 

You’re being bounced and thrown around by the cock inside you, and you squirt again when you come, splashing some in Hyunjin’s face.

Cheers resound around the room, and you’re reminded that they are watching the whole thing eagerly.

More cum oozes from your hole when you slide off of Jeongin, and you collapse on the couch beside him, too wobbly and too weak to stand.

You’re out of it. Exhausted and delirious, and only two of them have fucked you so far.

Jeongin brings a bottle of water to your mouth and you drink greedily from it, then rest your head and close your eyes. You feel your body being moved about are repositioned on the couch so you’re lying lengthways with your head resting on the chair arm.

Your eyes flutter open to find Jeongin gone and Hyunjin kneeling on the couch between your legs. He throws one of your legs over the back of the couch, and pushes the other one wide. He wastes no time thrusting into you, all the way. He holds your tits while he fucks you, massaging them in circles as they jiggle in his hands. Then he’s kissing your neck tenderly.

“I need to cum in you so bad. I needed to know if your pussy is as delicious as your ass. It is, by the way.” He chuckles and so do you. “Can I fuck you hard?” he asks. 

You nod, yes. He smirks, moving his arm to wrap underneath you and hold you up against him. Then he’s railing into you. Hard, deliberate thrusts that hit your already bruised cervix. He grunts each time he bottoms out, and the longer he goes, the sweatier he gets. It pours off of him onto your body, creating that same slipperiness as when he and Han fucked you the day before.

His thrusts turn frantic as he nears his orgasm. “Play with yourself. Wanna feel you flutter around me.” he pants. 

You slip a hand down between your bodies, and rub your overstimulated clit until you’re coming hard on his cock. 

“Yes, that’s it…fuck!” he growls, pulling out suddenly and plastering your sweat covered body in cum. Unexpectedly, he leans down and licks up a puddle of cum and pushes it into your mouth in a slow tongue kiss. You moan and your pussy responds with aftershocks.

“Let’s get her up against the wall. She can’t stand on her own. Suengimin and I will hold her for you guys.” Chan advises the group of the plan.

You're lifted off the couch by strong hands, and pinned to the wall. “Wrap your arms around our shoulders.” Chan says to you softly. “Yes, like that. We’ll hold your legs, you don’t have to do anything. Just let them use you.”

You're hoisted up the wall, legs spread, cunt open and ready for the taking.

“Alright, who’s first, boys.” Suengmin calls to the others.

Han is there in a heartbeat. “Hello, baby!” He smiles at you, then he kisses you with those sinful lips of his. He pulls a moan from you as he rubs his cock through your wet lips, and he looks down to watch himself sink inside you. “You’re tighter than yesterday. You must be so swollen, baby.” He pulls out almost the entire way, then thrusts deep. You whimper. 

“Sorry, baby. It might hurt a bit, but…ngh…” He slams in as hard as he can, Seungmin and Chan having to steady you from being fucked up the wall. “But, you see…” Another slam into your cunt. “You're pussy loves it rough. I know it does. I can feel it choking me.” He leans his head on your shoulder, and cups his hands under your ass, and grinds into you. Your clit rubs against him and you clench harder around him.

“Wish I could fuck you everyday.” He whispers against your ear so only you can hear.

His sweet words, coupled with his now desperate thrusts, has your head lolling back against the wall and you gently come around him. He follows almost immediately, adding his thick cum to the mix inside you.

Han pulls out with Felix poised to take his place. He moves into position quickly, gathering as much cum that’s seeping out of your hole onto the head of his dick and then squeezing inside you. 

He foregos all his usual pleasantries to simply say “I need to cum so bad. Just let me fuck you quick.” 

He fucks you with short, sharp, brutal thrusts, chasing his own orgasm and nothing else. “I’m not not interested in making you come, you’ve had plenty of those. I just need to…grrr.” He fucks you hard and fast, no more words, just pretty moans. You let him use you, watching his beautiful face in awe as it scrunches up with need, and then, with his mouth hung open, he’s cumming deep inside you. He trembles as he cums. It’s so pretty.

“Rightio, Minho. Your turn.”

Your eyes snap up when you hear his name. Minho. Your heart stops beating as he steps up to you, and you feel something flutter in your tummy. You swallow, your throat is so dry.

He moves in closer so the side of his cheek rests on yours. His hand finds your hip, gripping it gently, then with the other, he guides his cock to your entrance.

You hold your breath in anticipation. He hesitates briefly, and that kick starts your heart again. Now it’s pounding so hard there’s no way he can’t hear it.

With his body pressed right up against yours, he pushes into you. Slowly. So slowly, you whimper. You need his cock so bad that your cunt actually aches. A little squirming from you doesn’t spur him on. He just squeezes inch by torturous inch into you.

He bottoms out and you both sigh in relief. He stills. A long moment passes, and then he’s rolling his hips up into you. So deep, so deliciously deep. The way he moves his hips has his cock hitting you in different angles that the others can’t reach.

You take your hands from around Chan and Seungmin’s shoulders, opting to wrap them around MInho’s neck instead. He drops his head to kiss your neck softly. He moans with each thrust now, picking up the intensity. He’s not rough, he doesn’t need to be. Not with the way you’re coming undone on his cock like you are.

You’re partially brought out of your dazed state when you feel someone's fingers at your other hole. “Gotta start prepping you for the next phase.” Suengmin states.

While Minho continues to gently fuck your brains out, the others work you up to two fingers in your ass. You come when one finger is inside, making Minho growl and tell you you’re greedy, and now that two fingers are fucking you back there, you’re about to come again.

“I think our little whore’s ready to take more cock.” Suengmin ushers some of the others over. They gather around as Minho holds onto you and pulls you away from the wall. Your legs wrap around his waist, and his cock is still inside you.

He turns you around, presenting your ass for the others. “Remember you can use your safe word, okay?” he whispers against your ear.

You nod. “I know. Thank you for making me feel safe.”

He looks at you longingly, then his gaze drops to your lips. You want to smash your lips onto his, but you daren’t. He has his boundaries and you must respect those, just like he’s respected you.

So you just lean on his shoulder and let him hold you while you get your ass fucked.

Changbin is first to come up to you. “Finally, my turn.” He hisses, pressing the tip of his lubed cock to your ass. 

He’s so thick that it stings, even with all that lube and previous preparation. You bite into Minho’s shoulder, and your fingernails dig into the back of his neck. Minho squeezes your ass, a little pain to distract you from the huge stretch Chanbin’s cock is causing.

“Yeah, bunny. That’s it. Good girl. So tight for Binnie.” 

“So full of cock.” Minho hums and rolls his hips up into you. 

You lean back against Changbin’s chest and he reaches around to fondle both your tits. 

The pair hold you between them, rhythmically rolling their hips simultaneously. Jeongin kneels down next to you so he can get a good look at the action, and Felix suddenly has his camera out taking photos.

You’re delirious, putty in their hands. You stop noticing what’s going on around you, when suddenly you feel so empty. Changbin has blown and is pulling out, stepping out of the way so another could have a turn. This time it is Hyunjin with his long cock, delivering deep thrusts to your ass. He comes quickly, then makes way for Suengmin. 

He is just as rough with your ass as he was with your cunt earlier, brutally fucking you until you think you’re actually going to pass out. 

“Not gonna stop, or go easy on her unless she uses her color code or safe word.” He declares, hitting you extra hard. “She asked for rough. She gets rough.”

“Is she even conscious?” Someone, you think it’s Han, asks concerned.

“Hey! Babygirl.” Chan peels off some hair stuck to your cheek. “You still with us?”

Only your eyes move to meet his. “Don’t stop.” you manage to say.

Seungmin laughs. “See. Told you so.” He doubles down, thrusting up so hard you bounce on his cock, pushing you up the length of Minho’s, then slipping back down onto them. He repeats this several times, your moaning increasing in volume each time you slide back down their cocks.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” Minho announces. The sensation of him pulsing inside you and the relentless attack on your ass has you coming too, long and hard, and you actually scream this time.

Satisfied with his efforts, Seungmin lets himself go, cumming deep up your ass with a growl.

>>>>>

After every one had calmed down, it is agreed that there’d be no more ass fucking after what Seungmin just did. 

They carry you over to the mattress, laying you on your back, and examining your holes. You are still out of it, and you wonder if this is what sub space is? 

Someone, you don’t know who, spreads your pussy and asscheeks apart, and you feel more cum leak out of you. 

“I wasn’t that rough. I bet she could take two cocks up there at the same time.” 

“Oooh.” Han’s interest is piqued. 

“No!” Minho growls at him, then presses a bottle of water to your lips. “Here, drink.” He says lifting your head so you could take a sip.

“M-more.” You mumble. Minho brings the bottle back, but you shake your head. 

“More what, love?” Felix asks.

“H-haven’t had the-the Ch-chief.” You whimper.

“I’m not sure you’re up for tha-”

“Please!” You wail, your hands grasping for him. “Want all of you again.” 

Slap! A harsh slap across your cheek, brings you out of your delirious state. Your eyes snap open to find that Han was the one slapped you in the face. You blink rapidly, eyes watering, shocked.

“S-sorry. It’s just… I know how you’re feeling right now. You just want to float away and let us do anything we want. But we need to make sure we have your consent first.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“You can go back to La La Land in a minute, but you need to clarify what you want.” Chan reiterated stroking your thigh tenderly.

You looked at each of the men kneeling and sitting around you. Each and every one of them has satisfied your desires. None of them have overstepped any boundary, or hurt you in any way. You know they won’t hurt you now either.

“I want to…just lay here and have each of you fuck me again. I want cocks in my mouth. Fingers anywhere you want. Play with me. Touch me. Stroke me. Pinch me. Slap my tits. I want to let go, and just be.” You shrug.

They all look at you with understanding eyes. They get it. They know what you mean. Finally, you’ve stopped feeling ashamed. This is the real you. This is what makes you feel good. And it’s okay.

“Your wish is our command. Lay down for us, yeah? Let us take what we want from you?” Chan coos.

“Mmm hmm.” You whimper, laying back down, and letting yourself fall back into the blissful state you were in before.

Hands caress your body, some soft and gentle, others tugging and squeezing. Then mouths start to land on your body. Sweet, warm, gentle kisses peppered along your skin. Sloppy, wet sucking of nipples, earlobes, neck, toes. Your fingers are put into mouths before being wrapped around a cocks. Thick, skilled fingers fill your pussy.

You moan as the men devour you.

Chan lifts your legs up, folding them so your knees are up near your chest. 

“Oh the mating press? That’s gonna be so deep. She’s gonna feel all of you.” Hyunjin notes.

“Baby girl needs to feel us for days to come.” Chan grunts and hisses as his thickness stretches your entrance. “That’s the girl. Let Channie in.” He eases into you slowly, pushing on the backs of your legs to ensure ultimate depth.

“S’big.” You mumble, and a few men chuckle softly as though you’re endearing to them. 

Fingers come to your mouth, Han’s, and slip inside. You suck on them immediately, willingly, allowing him to slip them in further, like he’s gently fucking your face. 

You think you’ve gone cross-eyed when Chan pushes in one last time and bottoms out. “So deep, huh? Feel good?” He asks you. 

You moan around Han’s fingers.

“Gonna fuck you now, yeah? Nice and deep.” He slowly pulls out halfway, pauses, then presses inside to the hilt. He pauses there for a moment too, before pulling back out and repeating the movement. Each pause feels like an eternity, and he laughs every time you whine in protest.

“Oh, you want me to go faster?” He smirks, but you are too out of it to see his expression, so he just starts to fuck you harder and faster anyway. Your tits bounce for you on each impact, and eager hands continuously grope at them. Jeongin slaps one of them, and Felix bites the other.

You only realize the fingers are gone from your mouth when you feel a cock brush against your cheek.

“Hey! Hey.” You automatically turn towards it, seeking it blindly. “Shh.. Here you go, pop this in.” It’s Changbin bullying his cock head into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, baby girl. You ready?” Chan pushes into you as far as he can, holding himself there as he empties himself into you with a high pitched moan. 

>>>

You’ve lost track of who’s inside you, one after the other take turns, while you’re continuously fed cock. Some pull you in different positions, like flat on your stomach while they lay flush against your body and grind into you from behind. Another has your legs thrown over their shoulder. 

Han can’t decide on what position to have you, but eventually settles on having you half turned on your side while he straddles your straightened leg, and uses your bent leg for leverage. “It’s the best of both worlds. I can grab her ass, or her tits” he pants whilst giving them a slap and a squeeze.

“Yeah, and I can slide my cock right down her throat.” Chan decides he needs to feel your mouth around him one last time before this ends.

Finally, Minho hovers over you. He has you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he lays against your body. He watches your face intensely while he fucks you so incredibly slowly. 

You’re not sure what the others are doing, they’ve all stopped touching you, and you don’t care to look for them. You’re too captivated by the man above you, and you don’t dare look away. His eyes are curious, kind, and so utterly accepting of you.

You bite your lip and the smallest of whimpers escapes your mouth. The corner of his lip twitches as he holds back a smirk. 

“Feel good?” He says low. You grin and nod your head. “What about this?” He rolls his hips in a way that grazes that spot. Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head, but you don’t let them. You want to watch his expression as you come around him.

And you are coming. It’s not a big, violent release, but blissful waves of pleasure. The pulsing doesn’t ease, and as Minho continues to fuck you, you realise you’re coming a second time. 

“Oh!” You choke as this one hits you with more intensity. 

“I know you’ve got one last one for me. Come with me, kitten.” He says so only you can hear.

His thrusts speed up as he seeks his own release, and with one final thrust, you both fall off the cliff together. Squeezing, pulsing, throbbing. Together. 

>>>>

After care with these guys is exquisite. You’re wiped down with warm wet towels and given plenty of water to drink, followed by more food. 

“You need to eat before you get washed up properly. We don’t want you fainting in there.” Seungmin explains. “Then we’ll sort out your debrief and release process.”

>>>>

Minho carries you to a bathroom you haven’t been taken to before. It isn’t nasty like the one where he found you sobbing on the filthy tiles. 

He’s relieved to finally get you properly soaked and cleaned. Would you know that it was him who washed and folded your clothes and left them on the bathroom counter? He’d even retrieved your panties from the floor of the police car.

The tub was already full of hot water and bubbles, and after he undresses you, he lowers you into the tub carefully. He makes the mistake of looking at your face. Why do you have to look at him like that? Sucking in your lip and gazing at him longingly.

He sighs, thinking about how you wanted all the others, and him, to fuck you absolutely dumb.

“Here, let me wash you properly.” He says sternly, trying to force his thoughts to stay on task. But that doesn’t help because you’re exposing your breasts now, letting him soap them up.

Jesus fucking Christ. The way your walls squeezed him when you came three times for him at the end there, it felt like his heart was being squeezed at the same time. Those three orgasms were just for him too. You were too focused on looking into his soul to notice anyone else. No one else was touching you. It was just you and him in that moment.

Stop it. He wills the thoughts away. But when the sponge he’s washing you with slips between your thighs, and he’s washing away everyone’s cum, he thinks about how he felt watching you be fucked.

You looked so beautiful at the mercy of so many cocks. It made his dick throb seeing you with Seungming taking you from behind while you choked on Han’s dick. And the way you begged for more while your eyes lost focus and you didn’t care whose cock you had in which hole? It was erotic, and he loved it.

But he also wanted to pull them all away and have you just for himself.

“Are you okay, Minho?” You ask softly and bring him out of his thoughts.

He nods. “Yeah. Just kind of like having you around. We have discounts for return customers if you’re interested?” He grins.

You look at him incredulously. “Really?” You say, pulling back and looking at him suspiciously.

He nods again and laughs. “I promise I’m not shitting you.”

He is shitting you. They don’t really have discounts, but maybe Chan and Seungmin would make an exception?

Eventually, he pulls himself together, managing to help you out of the tub and dressing you without losing control and doing something inappropriate.

You’ll be gone soon and it won’t matter. It won’t take long to forget you. That’s a lie and he knows it.

>>>>>>>>>

You’re given your debriefing session with Chan, and Seungmin, who you have come to learn, is very much part of the administration and organization side of things for their establishment-slash-services.

“This is your folder of information, feedback forms, photographs… Oh, and your police reports from the Officers.” 

You take the folder from him, flicking through the pages quickly. 

“Also,” Chan adds. “You will receive a phone call in a week to check on your wellbeing. Minho will now take you to your car. It was a pleasure pleasuring you.” He smiles and gives you a big, warm hug, and you don’t want to leave.

MInho walks you to your car, which at some point had been driven to the police station and parked around the back.

“I’ve put your address in the GPS, so you’re good to go. Keys are in the ignition.” He says.

“Thank you.” You say, turning and leaning on the door of the car. “I can’t believe it’s over.” 

You sigh.

Minho takes a step back, hands deep in his pockets and eyes fixed to the ground. “Yeah, it went too quickly.” He scuffs his shoe through the gravel on the ground in front of him.

You wait for him to say something more, but he doesn’t.

“O-okay. Well…I’ll be off then.” You say with a big smile, hoping he doesn’t hear the strain in your voice. You turn to open the car door, to leave forever. Well, you can always hire them again, right? You remind yourself as you go to open the door.

You’re taken by surprise when a hand pushes the door closed again and spins you around and presses you against the car. Minho. He holds the side of your waist one hand, the other comes to cup your cheek. He looks into your eyes so intensely that you stop breathing. Then he lowers his eyes to your lips. 

“Minho?” You squeak.

He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he leans in closer, brushing his lips with yours. Tingles spread through your entire body just from this minute contact. But then he’s crashing down on you, taking your lips harshly, desperately, passionately. 

You’re melting, your legs weakening, but he holds you firm. 

He only breaks away to catch a breath, then he’s back, kissing you deeply, this time seeking to slip his tongue inside your mouth. 

He moans against you when you fight back and push your tongue into his mouth.

He pushes his crotch against you as your tongues continue to dance together in the perfect balance of soft and wild.

Your body is on fire, the butterflies in your tummy swirling uncontrollably, and your core aches for him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, not wanting to let go. 

He hooks an arm under one of your thighs, lifting it so he can grind harder against your core. The friction from his hardness against you has you soaking. 

Eventually, the kiss comes to completion, and Minho pulls away to lean his forehead on yours.

“Thought you didn’t do kissing on the lips, Mister?” You smirk.

He smiles. “I don’t. But I don’t normally crush on a client either.” He strokes your cheek and leans in for another long kiss.

>>>>

A/n: I hope you enjoyed the series! I'm a little sad it's over, but you never know what can happen in the future. I'm happy to answer asks about this series too. Like for example "what did they put in their polices reports?" or "give us a first date with minho." You know, things like that :-)

>>>>>>

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife @delulustardust @eastjonowhere

@jeonginsleftcheek @meilix @itgirlalisaa @linocz @boi-bi-ahaha @frozenpeasworld @grandma143 @milkypinkmimi @bangchansbbgirl @lunearta @leefelixsslut @privhace @justforreaders @jiwoos-babygirl @kavifornia @chuuyaobsessed @iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @courtnort455 @brimarie0512

[daryltwdixon]

Daryl Dixon x Reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut!! not much plot!! kind of emoshie too tho MDNI

notes: fem!reader, no use of y/n. inspired by a scene from part III of ruins of us, so don't come for me when you see this scene in there too lol

I also barely proofread this sorry

In the quiet of Alexandria, the first real quiet you’ve had in what feels like forever, the two of you sit side by side on the porch steps, sharing a silence that says everything and nothing at all. Daryl’s thumb idly brushes the edge of your hand, a rare gesture, but you notice it. He’s tense, uneasy in the stillness of this place where people laugh and gather like the world outside doesn’t still burn.

You take a breath, finally standing, and hold out your hand. “Come on.”

He stares at your hand for a second, something unreadable flickering in his gaze, then he reaches for it. His grip is strong, his skin rough, and as he lets you lead him inside, he’s silent but attentive, like he’s half waiting for the rug to be pulled from under him.

In the bathroom, you glance back at him, feeling something tight and warm in your chest. He’s watching you with that familiar intensity, one that can only be found in the private moments away from everyone, just you two in your own space. You step closer, your fingers reaching up to the collar of his shirt, carefully peeling away the fabric stained with dust, grime, and sweat. His breathing is almost inaudible, but you feel it, each steady exhale brushing against your skin as he watches you work, layer by layer, his guard slipping with every piece.

When you pull off your own clothes, you don’t shy from his eyes. They’re guarded as always, but there’s something else there too, an almost reverent way he lets his gaze roam over you, taking in every part of you that’s been hidden under layers and dirt. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time in weeks—maybe months. The sound of the water brings you back, its steady, warm rush filling the room with steam, curling around you like an invitation.

You step in first, shivering as the hot water cascades down your back. Daryl follows, closing the glass door behind him. As he moves under the spray, the water runs down his face, through his hair, carrying with it the weight of miles, fights, sleepless nights. You take the bar of soap and lather a small rag, moving close to him, feeling the heat of his body beneath your fingertips. He closes his eyes, letting you guide him, trusting you in a way he rarely allows himself to trust anyone.

Your hands work over his shoulders, firm yet gentle, tracing the muscles that have carried him through every hard road and long night. There’s a small tremble as your fingers brush over a scar, a reminder of another life. You let your hand linger there, pausing, pressing just a little, showing him in silence that you remember every bit of what brought you both here. Daryl swallows, and you catch the faintest edge of vulnerability in his eyes as they open, catching yours with a gravity that makes the breath catch in your throat.

You move lower, your fingers sliding down his arms, washing away the grime in gentle strokes, lingering, memorizing the feel of him beneath your touch. When you reach his hands, you lace your fingers with his, feeling the strength there, the familiar roughness that’s so uniquely his. You smile, just a hint, and for a moment, a soft, almost shy smile ghosts over his lips.

As you pull the soap away to wash yourself, his hand stops you. He holds your wrist, his touch firm yet delicate. “My turn,” he says quietly, his voice low, a rasp that holds a world of unsaid things.

His hand moves carefully as he takes the soapy cloth and begins to trace slow, steady circles on your shoulders. The warm cloth glides over your skin, and you feel his fingers linger just a little longer than necessary, like he’s savoring this rare chance to touch you after weeks of only thoughts of survival. His hands move down your arms, so gentle it feels like he’s memorizing you all over again, learning every curve, every line. The heat of the water and his touch seem to blur together, wrapping around you, grounding you in the present.

He moves lower, the cloth brushing over your stomach, his fingers firm yet tender. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, holding you there in his gaze, and it feels like the world has shrunk down to just this moment, just the two of you. There’s a weight to his touch, like he’s saying everything he’s never found the words for.

He softly, slowly, turns you around and you think he’s going to begin scrubbing your back, but he reaches for your waist, and the cloth slows, his hand lingering as he continues making small circles. You exhale, your breath coming shallow as he closes the space between you, pulling you against his chest. You feel his fingers press gently, a question, an offer. The feel his heart, steady and strong against your back, calms you as he feels you with the cloth moving up your stomach, moving in slow, deliberate strokes over your breasts, his breath warm against the side of your neck.

You close your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, the warmth of the water, the gentleness of his hands, the way he’s holding you like you’re something fragile and precious. You lean your head back against him, eyes fluttering shut and letting the water hit your face from the shower head. You feel his grip tighten, his breath hitch as his hand moves lower, gliding down your stomach, his fingers trembling slightly as they reach your hips.

And in that moment, you feel him against you, hard and unyielding against your back. Your breath catches, and you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, his face inches from yours. There’s a fire there, barely contained, a want that matches your own. His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you closer, his mouth brushing over your neck, his lips ghosting over your skin.

As his hands travel lower, your skin prickles with anticipation, every inch of you attuned to his touch. The air between you is thick with unspoken need, weeks of restrained desire spilling over, saturating the space around you with a quiet intensity. You can feel the tension building as he reaches down, his hand moving carefully, deliberately. The soapy cloth brushes over your thighs, lingering, teasing, before he lets it drop to the floor, forgotten, freeing his fingers to explore you without the barrier.

He leans you back against his chest even closer, solid and warm, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of him, your senses sharpening as his hand slips between your thighs, his fingers sliding down to find you already wet, warm, and aching for his touch. His breath is a low, throaty murmur against your ear as he feels how ready you are, and you can hear the satisfied growl that rumbles in his chest as he presses his fingers against you, gliding over your softness with a deliberate slowness that makes your knees weak.

“Been waitin’ for this,” he murmurs, his voice rough, each word sending a thrill down your spine. His fingers begin to move in slow, steady circles, each stroke purposeful, as though he’s savoring the way your body responds to his touch. The sensation builds with each movement, his hand creating a rhythm that matches the pulse thrumming through you, leaving you clinging to him, one of your hands gripping his neck for support as he works you closer to the edge. The other rests against your chest, slow and tantalizing against your breasts.

You let out a soft moan, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder, your breaths coming faster as his fingers explore you, slipping deeper, curling just right, making your whole body tremble. He tightens his hold on you, pressing his mouth to your neck, kissing, nipping, his hot breath delicious against your skin. The friction of his fingers sends waves of pleasure radiating through you, and you arch into him, pressing yourself closer, feeling the solid strength of his body holding you steady, silently begging for more.

“Like that?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and thick with satisfaction as he feels you respond to his touch, your breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps. His fingers press deeper, finding that perfect spot that makes you gasp, a soft cry spilling from your lips as he intensifies his rhythm, each movement drawing you closer, building the tension until it’s almost too much.

He doesn’t let up, his hand steady, fingers curling, his thumb tracing gentle circles that make your body tighten, the pressure coiling in your belly. His other arm holds you firm, keeping you steady as he works you over, his mouth moving to your ear, whispering words you can barely make out, each rough syllable sending a fresh shiver through you. The combination of his voice, his touch, the way he’s holding you like he can’t bear to let go—it all drives you higher, until you’re teetering on the edge, every nerve alive, every inch of you aching to fall.

“So fuckin’ perfect for me,” he murmurs in your ear, “pussy always so needy, so ready for me–it’s been too long, baby,” 

“Daryl…” His name slips from your lips in a desperate, breathless moan, and he growls in response, his fingers moving faster, more insistent, until finally, the tension shatters, and you’re left clinging to him as waves of pleasure roll over you, your body shuddering against his as he holds you close, his hands never leaving you.

As you come down, your breaths still uneven, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, his hand gently stroking over your skin, grounding you, bringing you back from the high. You lean back against him, your head resting against his shoulder, feeling his heart beating steady and strong, a quiet reminder of the connection between you, of the intensity that’s been building for far too long.

You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze, and there’s a gleam in his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watches you with a satisfaction that leaves your heart racing all over again. He brushes a hand over your cheek, tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning forward, his lips find yours, tentative at first, then deeper, more fervent as his hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. You melt into him, losing yourself in the taste of his mouth, the familiar scent of him mixing with the steam that’s blanketing the two of you. His kisses grow hungrier, more insistent, the warmth between you intensifying as his hands reach down further, gripping your ass with roughness that makes you squeal. His grip on you tightens, his hands rough and possessive as they knead your skin, pulling you against him with a desperation that makes your heart race. The low growl that escapes him as his hands continue their palming of your cheeks sends a thrill through you, and without thinking, you wrap a leg around his waist, bringing him flush against you.

You both shudder as his hardness presses perfectly between your legs, a friction that ignites every inch of you. His breath catches, mingling with the steam and your own hitched sighs. You feel him slide against your wet, gushing lips, and you press down further, chasing the friction he offers between your legs.

“Goddamn,” he murmurs, voice low and thick as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips and teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. His grip on you tightens, pulling you against him with a roughness that makes you gasp, your hands clinging to his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin as he holds you close.

“Daryl, wait,” you whisper into his skin, feeling his breath hot and ragged against your neck as you pull away just slightly. The look in his eyes, dark with blown pupils, makes you hesitate, a storm of longing and vulnerability held there as he tries to read your intentions, unsure if you truly mean to pull away from his warmth, his need, his fervor. A flicker of uncertainty crosses his features, a silent question in the tight set of his jaw, and before he can think anything of it, you slip away, dropping slowly down to your knees before him.

From this vantage, he’s breathtaking. Standing tall above you, his damp hair falls around his face, shadowing his gaze, droplets tracing lines down his jaw and dripping onto your skin, adding to the heat already burning between you. His body glistens with drops of water, the slopes of his chest and stomach mesmerizing as the shower’s spray falls around you both. His broad frame blocks the full force of the water, sheltering you in this intimate space.

“What’re ya—” he starts, but his words cut off with a harsh intake of breath as your hand wraps firmly around the base of him, your fingers barely meeting around his girth. The sound he makes—a strangled, low whimper—reverberates through the steam-filled space, and his hands fly forward to brace himself. One hand anchors in your hair, steadying his weight with a gentle hold, while the other presses against your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as he watches, chest heaving.

“Baby… you don’t have to…” he rasps, his voice thick and trembling as he struggles to speak. But the low groans he lets slip with every slow, deliberate movement of your hand make it clear he doesn’t want you to stop. You meet his gaze, a teasing glint in your eye as you flatten your tongue against him, trailing slow, languid strokes along his length, savoring every shudder, every soft moan that slips from his lips.

When you take him fully into your mouth, cheeks hollowed with a fierce, focused hunger, his control shatters. His hand tightens in your hair, a mix of gentle guidance and barely-contained restraint, his hips instinctively pressing forward as he lets his head fall back into the cascade of the shower, his breath a rough gasp against the tiled walls.

“Shit,” he whispers, voice ragged, almost reverent, as his other hand finds its place on the back of your head, steady and protective, losing himself in the feel of you. You can sense his restraint, how carefully he holds back, letting you set the pace, his muscles taut as if he’s fighting against every instinct telling him to give in.

You move with a steady rhythm, taking your time, mouth and hands working together to bring him closer and closer to the edge. Every gasp, every groan that spills from his lips fuels the fire between you, each sound a delicious reward as he lets himself unravel in your hands. His moans vibrate through you, making you feel every ounce of his need and raw desire as he allows himself to fall apart under your touch.

But then, suddenly, as if remembering himself, his grip in your hair tightens, and he pulls you away, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling as he looks down at you, nearly busting from the sight of you—kneeling, head tilted back, cheeks flushed, lips wet and swollen, parted and ready. From his perspective, you’re utterly captivating, the sexiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Your wet hair sticks to your skin, strands of it catching on the dampness of your face, your neck and the rest down and flowing behind you, soaked and clean. The water beads on your skin, tracing delicate trails down your neck, glistening along the curve of your collarbone and catching on the subtle lines of your muscles, and he’s completely mesmerized. 

You catch the intensity in his gaze as he absorbs the sight, his restraint wavering in the face of his raw, undeniable want. He swallows hard, then leans down, his other hand coming to your cheek again, cupping you with a gentleness that feels like a promise, and kisses you deeply, thoroughly, his tongue sweeping inside your mouth to taste himself on you, each movement as consuming as the last.

A soft moan slips from your lips as he kisses you, and he lets out a sound—a low, growling sigh—as he pulls you to stand, holding you close. His hand drops to your waist, fingers sliding down to find your hip and then lower to your thigh, hitching your leg up around him again in one smooth movement. He presses you firmly against the warm tile wall of the shower, his body a solid weight against yours, grounding you in the moment as he leans in close. 

The sensation of him, rock-hard and twitching against you, has you quivering, and you can feel the urgency in his touch as he pushes agonizingly slow into your walls, letting you adjust to his girth for a long moment as you suck in deep breaths, holding him close with your hands over his shoulders. “Jesus,” he mutters against your skin, voice low and thick, his breath coming fast as he slowly begins to grind into you, as he feels you pulsing around his cock, the tightness electric as he begins to move in a tantalizing rhythm. You gasp, clinging to him as his hand slides down your thigh, holding you steady as he presses harder, opening you up for him further. His other hand slides between you, fingers teasing over your slick skin, each slow, deliberate circle overstimulating to already your sensitive clit. His thumb grazes over it, and a tremor runs through you, your hips bucking into his hand, uncertain if you want more or if its too much, but you crave the way he pushes you closer to that brink with each stroke.

He lifts his head, his eyes dark and intense as he holds your gaze. “You feel so damn good,” he growls, his eyes flickering from watching himself buried in you to your lips, and he finally pushes his mouth into you for another deep, searing kiss as his hips dig harder against you, the friction a delicious, toe-curling pressure that makes your body tighten with need. His mouth moves over your jaw, down your neck, teeth grazing your skin with a hunger that sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

Without warning, he adjusts his angle, snapping his hips forward with brutal force, finding that perfect spot that makes your head fall back, your eyes fluttering shut again as you gasp his name, the word spilling from your lips in a breathless moan. His hand on your thigh tightens, keeping you open for him, holding you steady as he moves, each thrust deliberate, intense, sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you. The rhythm he sets is deep and powerful, every stroke designed to make you feel every inch of him.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice a low rasp, and when you open your eyes, his gaze is filled with something dark, possessive. There’s a smirk playing at his lips, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he watches you, every moan, every gasp, feeding that hunger in him. The pleasure builds, a coiling tension in your belly that threatens to spill over, and you bite your lip, trying to hold back the cries that rise up in your throat as his pace quickens, the intensity between you burning hotter. His hands grip you harder, pulling you against him as his mouth finds your neck again, nipping and biting, leaving little marks of possession on your skin. He snaps his hips into you with irrevocable need and your breaths come in short, wanting gasps as he presses into you, his thumb still against your clit, while the other stays locked on your thigh, his bruising hold keeping you from falling. His mouth finds yours again, devouring you as if he can’t get enough.

You try to kiss him back, you really do, but its all you can do to not gasp and moan against his lips, the pressure building too recklessly inside of you. The feeling of power in him as he moves, the strength in his body, the way he holds you as if you’re something he can’t bear to let go of, only makes your skin shiver even more. 

“Daryl…” you moan again, the sound barely a whisper as you feel yourself hovering on the edge, the pressure coiling tight, ready to explode. It’s like it’s the only thing you can think, only thing that coherently comes out of your mouth. His grip on you tightens, his voice low and hoarse in your ear.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, his words sending a fresh wave of heat through you as his pace intensifies, each thrust more relentless, pushing you closer, until finally, you shudder, your body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you breathless, your moans filling the shower as you unravel.

Moments later, he lets out a strangled groan, his grip on you fierce as he follows, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his body tense and shuddering as he holds you close, as if he’s letting himself go completely, surrendering to the pleasure that has overtaken you both.

[beloveds-embrace]

Noona I have toughts and need to share them before they forever get lost in the void that is my AuHD brain. I also realised I never introduced myself, you can call be eevee (like the pokemon) and I go by any pronouns!

Simon Riley didnt want to have children. Its not that he didn't like children, he was actually quite fond of them and something inside him melted when ever a chubby cheeked tolder smiled up at him with their little teeth poking through and when a lost child came up to him when he was out shopping and asked him to help find their parents because he was the tallest person there and that obviously meant he could find them easier, he was bending down to the childs level his eyes soft and warm as he asked their names and what they looked like. He was constantly in awe of the little humans who just saw him as a man, not the monester he believed he was in his mind. What stopped him from having children was fear.

Fear he would turn out like his own father, fear that something would happen that would trigger him (because lets be real, the mans a vet and he sure as hell suggees from PTSD) and he would do something he would regret. Fear that he would be sent on a mission and be lost forever, no one knowing where he was or where his body is and he wouldn't make it home to his partner and kids. Fear of raising them wrong or doing the wrong thing and they turn into monsters themselves. It was a fear so strong that he went and got a vasectomy at the age of 18 to prevent any accidents and even with the vasectomy he insists on another form of birth control before he has sex with anyone.

Then he meets you. All soft and sweet and kind and bright. So so bright. All his life has been a dark cloud and rolling thunder clouds just waiting to burst and drown him in their water, but you are like a hint of sun shining through the clouds. Reminding him that every dark day has its end, that even after a storm there is brightness and colour with rainbows. That even if the clouds burst and dark, heavy rain drenches his soul there is still goodness in the world and the sun will always be there to dry and brighten the world again. And he falls in love and for the first time in a long time, he is truly happy.

You obviously know Simon didn't want kids, it was something he told you when you first started dating but it wasn't a deal breaker, you weren't even sure you wanted kids either. You had your own trauma and darkness to work through before you wanted to even start thinking about kids.

After learning more about Simon and his past, you manage to talk him into seeing a trauma therapist. You knew therapy wasn't for everyone but you wanted him to at least try because there were parts of himself he kept so deeply locked away behind stainless steel doors with reinforced padlock that he needed to discuss with someone and he wouldn’t talk about it with you, he didnt want his darkness to dampen your light, but he agreed. He did one session and then another and then another, actually finding benefit in them as he discussed his fears out in the open for the first time. About what he had been through with his dad and as a soldier. He knew bottling everything up didnt help, usually finding solace for his overwhelming thoughrs in a bottle of whiskey that msde the world disappear, he knew it made him for volitaile and dangerous and he didnt want to be dangerous around you, not now. Not ever. He wanted you to expeirnce the same sense of peace ans safety with him as he did you.

Eventually he worked through his fears of fatherhood and having children, realising that he could break the cycle and be the dad he didnt have. He wants to discuss it with you, the potential of having his vasectomy reversed, especially after Johnnys missus has a baby and he sees how good you are with them. Holding them so comfroably in your arms and soothing them when they fuss and hes even surprised with how good he is with them. Able to hold them in one arm, tight against his chest so the baby can hear his heartbeat. You watch him with a small smile, your heart melting at the sight as you feel yourself falling in love with him all over again. After that day you two become the designated baby sitters for the littlest MacTavish and Simon takes to caring for it like a fish in water.

Its a few months later, after Johnny picks his baby up that you overhear Johnny ask Simon about having his own little one and Simon says he's been thinking about it, been thinking about having his vasectomy reversed and giving you the baby you deserve (because he has noticed the sad look in your eyes everytime you give the little one back to his parents and how happy you ar holding them in your arms). Johnny reassurs him that hes nothing to worry about, hed be a great father and hes sure that youd agree. So that night, after showers and dinner he brings it up and he assures you hes doing it because he wants to. Because he wants to have a baby and not just because you seem to want one and when tou agree, hed phoning the clinic the next morning to get his vasectomy reversed and you're phoning to get your birthcontrol stopped

Once its done, it takes a maximum of three months before you're pregnant and Simon stands with you in the bathroom waiting for the results to come up on the test. Hes hand holding yours and his heart beating erratically in his chest as five minutes seems like five hours and as soon as the test shows positive hes sweeping you up into his arms and thanking you over and over between kisses for giving him a baby, tears prick at his eyelids but dont quite fall

But when you're little girl, Aurora, is born he cries. His heart is just so full of love for the little girl in his arms and for you that he can't help the emotions from spilling over.

So yeah, Simon Riley didnt want kida but he is so damn glad he meet you and he did

this is so wholesome and cute and sweet?? i love it so so so much omfg thank you for sending this in! girldad!simon means everything to me <333

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: you know the episode 4.19 where Sam and Dean get a call from their supposed half brother and their rightfully suspicious and it ends up being a hunt for them? What about instead of Sam getting tied down and bled it’s their baby sister? She’s small and young and definitely shouldn’t be losing this much blood, she can’t even lift herself up after Sam and Dean manage to free her. Pls and thank you!

Request: I have a request on s4 e19 when Sam gets tortured by the ghouls. Can you reverse the roles with Winchester sister? No rush do whenever you want. Just remember to take breaks and drink water! Bye! :)

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Extreme Blood Loss

A/N: Please let me know if you like this because it helps motivate me to write more lol! Requests are open and if I haven’t gotten to yours yet feel free to request again because I have over 200 requests and I’m working on a bunch. You can request anything and everything I don’t care and I will never get annoyed!!

“Okay we’ve closed off every other way into the house.” You said to Adam, looking at the last tunnel in the house that wasn’t closed off. “If this thing is coming, it’s coming through here.” You finished at the same time as a door creaked through the house. Your attention immediately snapped towards the noise.

“You were saying?” Adam asked and you looked back towards him.

“Adam!” You heard from the other room and your heart sank.

“Adam!” It cried again, but before you could make your next move Adam was already calling back out.

“Mom?” Adam yelled, ready to run.

“No!” You tried to stop him, but he didn’t listen.

“Mom!” He yelled out and pushed past you.

“Adam!” You shouted after him, getting your gun ready. You ran down the steps after him trying to get him to stop.

“Mom?” You heard him sigh in relief.

“Adam no wait!” You cried out and rounded the corner to see Adam and the monster.

“It took me, but I got away.” It cried as Adam embraced her.

“Adam, step away from it.” You screamed with your gun pointed.

“Y/N, what the hell?” He shouted at you, confused.

“It’s not your mother!” You tried to reason with him.

“Adam, who—what is going on?” The monster cried.

“Get away from him!” You yelled at it starting to feel hopeless.

“What is going on?” It cried.

“You listen to me. It’s really her, okay?” Adam said, pushing it behind him.

“There was too much blood, your mother’s dead. There was too much blood in the vents!” You yelled trying to quickly explain before he snatched the gun out of your hand.

“Adam!” It cried.

“Shoot it!” You screamed, now terrified of the predicament you were both in.

“He’s crazy, it’s me!” It yelled in protest of the gun being pointed at it and immediately Adam pointed the gun back at you.

“Look—Adam!” You cried.

“It’s me!” It said.

“That’s not your mother!” You screamed trying to save the both of you and make him understand that his mother was not his mother and in fact the monster they were hunting. He flipped the gun back on the monster.

“Shoot it! It’s not human!” You yelled, trying to get through to him.

“I know.” He smirked, turning to face you. You had no time to be confused with what the hell was happening before he hit you with the butt of the gun and everything went black.

——-

You woke up to humming and noticed you were tied down to a table. You started struggling to get yourself out, but to no avail.

“Silver. No need none of the tests worked. You’re not shapeshifters. You’re ghouls.” You sneered, staring at Adam’s fake mom.

“You know, I find that term racist.” She replied with a knife in her hand.

“Huh.” You said with attitude, rolling your eyes. You tried to free yourself once more when she came to you sniffing you and biting your ear.

“Ew! Get away you weirdo freak!” You yelled. You had quite a bad problem with bad mouthing monsters and it always ended up biting you in the butt.

“Fresh meat. So much better than what we’re used to.” She grinned.

“Oh I should’ve known. It was the fresh kills that threw me. Ghouls don’t usually go after the living because you’re all just disgusting, filthy, nasty, trash pickers, taking form of the last corpse you choke down like a scavenger.” You sneered, again with the name calling. She was lucky you had to get to the point because you were just going to go on and on with all the negative words in the dictionary.

“And their thoughts, and their memories. Like Adam for instance.” Fake Adam said, walking into the room.

“Yeah well we are what we eat.” She chuckled.

“You’re pathetic monsters.” You said with disgust. Fake Adam sliced your one arm open and you let out a groan. His fake mom immediately went to licking the blood.

“That was for calling us pathetic.” Adam said.

“Yeah I’d call you a lot more than that. Do you have time?” You asked sarcastically, still struggling to get away.

“You know you use that word a lot, Y/N. Monsters.” Fake Adam said and brought the knife down on the table missing you by just an inch.

“But I don’t think you know what it means.” He finished as his fake mom continued to lick the blood pouring out of your arm.

“Her blood—it tastes different.” She said in confusion.

“Our father was a monster? Why? Because of what he ate? He never hurt anyone, Y/N. Living anyway.” Fake Adam smirked and grabbed the knife.

“No he was no monster. But the thing that killed him was. A monster named John Winchester.” Adam’s fake mom said trickling the knife up and down your body. Fake Adam stuck his fingers into the wound on your side and you cried out in pain.

“Thanks to your daddy, my brother and I, grew up on our own.” She explained as he twisted his finger deeper into your side and you let out a scream.

“At least we had each other.” She finished. He took his finger out of your wound and licked the blood off of it.

“Like you and your brothers— inseparable.” He said.

“Actually it was very hard to get you on your own. Your brothers are almost always keeping you out of harms way. Awww how protective.” She said sarcastically.

“So we figured instead of killing all of you, why not just kill you? They would suffer way more knowing that their wittle baby sister is dead.” He said in a fake sad voice.

“Go to hell.” You managed to get out.

“Like you said, Y/N, the only thing you can count on is family.” He said as she sucked more blood out of your arm.

“And for 20 years, we lived like rats. Graveyard after graveyard, all that stinking flesh. And then we thought hey why not move up to the fresher game?” She said.

“And we knew just where to start.” He smirked and started carving on your other arm. You cried out in pain and felt the world fading around you.

“Revenge— it’s never over, is it, Y/N?” He asked, still carving around your arm.

“First, it was John’s cop friend, and then his slut and then his son.” She said twirling her knife around.

“Then I called John, but the son of a bitch was already dead.” Adam sighed, disappointed.

“So I guess you will have to do instead.” She said, petting the side of your face.

“And they won’t interrupt us this time. We’re gonna feed on you nice and slow— like we did with Adam.” He said.

“Oh and by the way, he really was your brother. You should know that.” She grinned. You struggled against the ropes that tied you down, trying anything to escape.

“He was still alive when we took our first bites.” He smiled.

“And he was a screamer!” She said before she sliced your entire forearm. Fake Adam followed after her and sliced your arm again. You screamed in pain and thrashed. You could feel the blood pooling out of your body and you could hear it dripping into the bowls. The way it flowed like a waterfall made you feel absolutely sick. You knew you were going to bleed out and that you didn’t have much time left.

“Y/N, the more you struggle, the faster you’re going to bleed out. So you might as well lie back and relax.” Adam said as you whined and whimpered, trying to stay awake.

“Hey!” You heard Dean scream and a shot ring out.

“Dean, they’re ghouls-“ You tried screaming, but you were so weak it came out as a whisper. You knew Dean heard you though because another shot rung out.

“Which means headshot.” He said as Sam came stumbling into the room.

“Y/N!” He yelled before he was taken down by fake Adam and thrown through the glass doors. Dean immediately followed suit as you groaned and cried out. Your breaths were becoming rapid and shorter. You didn’t have enough energy to pick up your head to see the fight going down. It felt like forever before you saw blurry figure walk back into the room. Not knowing who it was, you tried to get your body to move. You felt like you had a fifty pound weight holding your body down.

“No!” You whimpered weakly, knowing you had no fight left in you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, it’s Sam, sweetheart. I got you, you’re safe.” You heard Sam and felt him cup your cheeks to get your attention.

“S‘mmy.” You slurred.

“Yeah, hey bug, it’s me, I got you.” Sam said softly trying to comfort you, knowing that it was bad.

“Dean, she’s freezing cold.” Sam cried out trying to stay calm.

“Shit.” Dean said panicking. You felt the rope being cut off of your one wrist and you groaned out in pain.

“I know kid, I know. Hang in there for me okay?” Dean said, knowing that it was painful, but it had to be done. He started cutting the other one on your wrist while Sam started on your ankles. You felt your heart racing, your body sweating and your skin clammy. You could barely hang on to consciousness and your body felt weighed down by a million weights.

“Mmm scared.” You slurred looking into the blurriness of your brothers.

“You’re going to be okay sweetheart alright? You’re going to be fine. Just keep talking to us okay?” Sam asked, now full on panicking, but trying to keep you calm. You knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much blood and you weren’t sure if you were going to be okay. You let a few tears slide down your cheeks as you struggled to catch your breath.

“No, no, no. You’re going to be okay, alright? I won’t let anything happen to you.” Dean said noticing your tears. He quickly placed rags on your forearms and held them tight to stop the bleeding. You cried out in pain and tried to pull away when you felt him putting pressure on them.

“I know kid, I know. I’m sorry.” Dean said clenching his jaw. Sam made his next move by helping you sit up, but your body felt like jelly. You couldn’t lift yourself up as your head lobbed to the side of you. This feeling absolutely terrified you and left your body trembling in fear. The impending doom was taking over and it was paralyzing you. As your brothers scrambled around you trying to support your body, they urgently discussed their next steps in helping you when you interrupted.

“Mm I going to die?” You whispered weakly, blinking away the dots that clouded your vision. Scared that if you closed them, you wouldn’t open them again.

“HEY, HEY!” Dean yelled and tapped your face. Your eyes snapped wide open and your body trembled uncontrollably as you whimpered in fear.

“You’re not going to die. Do you hear me? Just keep those eyes open for me, alright?” Dean asked with fear in his own eyes, but when he looked into yours he was met with confusion.

“Wh-what?” You started. In an instant, you were confused. Where were you? What happened?

“De?” You called out for your eldest brother, the one who took care of you your entire life. The one who was always there for you when you called.

“Yeah I’m here baby, I’m here.” He said. Baby? He only called you that when something serious was happening. You finally took in your surroundings and saw yourself covered in blood as your brothers worked around you.

“What happened!” You cried out, completely confused and dazed.

“Relax sweetheart, you’re going to be okay, alright? You’re going to be okay.” You heard Sam say as he lifted your body off of the table. You grunted in pain, but your body only grew heavier.

“There’s too much blood!” Dean cried.

“I know, I know!” Sam yelled in frustration.

It felt like time was skipping because the next thing you knew, you were in the impala. You glanced to your right and noticed your dad.

“Dad?” You asked, fuzzily. Dean immediately looked towards Sam who glanced down towards you.

“She’s hallucinating Dean, she’s lost too much blood.” Sam said stealing a concerned glance towards his brother. Dean gripped the steering wheel tight and cursed silently, speeding faster.

“Dad, I missed you.” You cried, which caused Dean to completely break.

“Hey baby, no, dad’s not here, alright? Dad’s not here.” He said weakly, completely terrified of his sister’s state.

“Mmm t’red.” You said weakly, the heaviness and the blood loss making their last round on you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, sweetheart, you’ve gotta stay awake.” Sam said urgently, but you didn’t listen and closed your eyes in exhaustion.

“Keep your eyes open please!” Sam cried out and tapped your face. It had no effect on you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

———

You jumped awake to a beeping noise in a complete panic. You were in a daze and physically couldn’t lift yourself up which made you panic more.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.” You heard Dean say, but the beeping noise only got faster. You were in total confusion and couldn’t make out where you were.

“Relax for me kid, you’re alright.” You heard Dean again and this time felt a hand placed on you. You groggily looked around and saw that you were in a hospital room. You immediately went into an intense shiver unsure if it was from how cold you were or if it was from the nerves that just overcame you. Dean cupped the side of your face, no doubt feeling your body tremor.

“You’re okay.” He said softly, giving you a reassuring nod.

“So cold.” You made out and he sent you a sad look.

“Alright, let me go find a nurse and get you some more blankets.” He replied hesitantly unsure if he wanted to leave you alone when Sam walked into the room with coffee. Sam’s immediate sigh of relief when he saw you awake and his glance towards Dean made you realize how serious whatever happened to you was. Dean left the room and Sam walked towards you.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said softly, sitting in front of you.

“Sammy.” You smiled weakly and tried to reach out to him. He immediately got the hint and took your hands into his.

“I’m here.” He said gently and rubbed his fingers on your hand.

“I’m so weak.” You mumbled, trying to understand why your body felt so heavy.

“What happened?” You whispered, not remembering anything that took place. Sam’s face fell and his eyes filled with sorrow.

“The ghouls had you bleeding out and when we got to you it was almost too late. You were so pale and you were ice cold. You were so cold bug, it terrified me.” Sam said, looking away and trying to collect himself.

“There was blood everywhere, we weren’t even sure how you were alive at that point. Then you started hallucinating and went unconscious. We thought we lost you, God we were so scared.” He said, shedding a tear and quickly wiping it before it could drop.

“We rushed you to the hospital, not knowing if you were even alive and waited around for hours not hearing anything. Then the doctor came out and told us you were stabilized, but lost 35% of your blood. He said you should’ve died and that it was nothing less of a miracle.” He said as his voice cracked.

“You were in a coma for two weeks.” He explained quietly, knowing this was going to freak you out.

“I’ve been out for two weeks?!” You asked, hysterically.

“They said it could’ve been up to a couple months, we just weren’t sure when you’d wake up.” He said as you just stared blankly at him.

“We were so terrified to lose you. Dean even prayed a few times.” He finished. You both knew that Dean never prayed and he never believed that there was a God out there so the fact that it got to the point where Dean was praying, made you extremely emotional. The tears started streaming down your face.

“I’m so sorry Sammy, I should’ve known it was a trap.” You cried, feeling terrible and guilty that your brothers had to be put through something so traumatic because of your own mistake.

“Sweetheart, no, it’s not your fault. Me and Dean should’ve never left you alone with Adam. We weren’t thinking and it almost cost you your life.” Sam said, staring into your eyes and wiping your tears. Before you could say something back, the door opened. Dean, a few nurses and a doctor walked in. They checked your vitals and explained that you were going to be very weak for about a month. You had iron deficiency anemia due to the blood loss and it would take a long time for you to start feeling normal again. They left the room and Dean put the extra blankets that they brought in on top of you. The weight and coziness of the blankets made you immediately feel tired. Your brothers took notice and Dean kissed the side of your head.

“Get some rest kid, we’ll be here.” Dean reassured.

“Thank you for saving me.” You smiled softly looking between your brothers.

“Always.” Dean said as Sam grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

[pygmi-cygni]

thoughts on steven (maybe even roommate!steven) being a bit of a panty thief? my mind was wandering and i’ve been daydreaming about pervy steven… of all the three he seems he would win Most Likely To Be A (secret) Pervert™️

hm...I see the vision...😏

cw: smut, suggestive content, steven being a little freak <3

All of the boys have a strong sexual appetite. The only difference is, Steven is a little shy.

He knows what he wants (you) he just doesn't know how to ask for it

Besides, he feels all funky about it. He likes what you two have: tea in the morning, scrabble after dinner, maybe a bit of flirting, and then off to your (regrettably) separate rooms.

But ohhhhh how he just writhes in his bed. He can hear you on the other side of the wall. He knows. He can smell it too, when he does your joint laundry.

God it drives him crazy. He'll just kind of....wait for you to leave, maybe to go do the dishes, then he'll shove one in his pocket and hastily dump the rest in the washer.

After his little escapades, he'll spent ample alone time in his bedroom, only coming out to drink a glass of water, sheet imprints on his cheeks and eyes glassy.

You brush it off - maybe he's just getting some well-deserved sleep.

Um.....no.

He'll shove his face in between his pillows and jerk himself off as long as he can take it, the soft cotton panties wrapped tight around his achy length.

Sometimes he'll use them as a gag if he can't keep quiet.

Orgasm after orgasm until he's lost the ability to move, just laying on his soiled sheets and snuffling drowsily at the stolen pair, completely drunk in his love-nest.

He's not a complete arse, though, he always returns them washed.

Steven does notice a pattern.

You've got sexy pairs, regular pairs, sleeping pairs, and that-time-of-the-month pairs.

monthly pairs and sleeping ones are his favorites.

Not sure why, but the lace on your sexier ones gives him a rash and you notice the regular pairs' absence too often.

Nightime pairs smell the most like you. He doesn't like to soil those, just fondles them or presses them to his nose. Your lotion and the soft smell of your skin is soothing as he falls asleep. He'll tongue at the softer parts, imagining you laying there instead, your thighs instead of pillows cradling his face...

Monthly pairs, however.

Well.

You smell different when you're ovulating, obviously. Richer, headier. He'll get an immediate hard-on if he gets a whiff.

Steven keeps those for days, till he can barely stand it. they're usually the softest, too. He'll slick himself up and just go to town, thrusting and humping into the warm, wet, silky pocket of your panties.

It's dangerous cause he'll start moaning like a whore when he spills onto the mattress, bleating and whining until the aftershocks stop. He's gotta learn how to be quieter.

You caught him, once.

He'd fucked himself so hard he couldn't walk very well, acting a little clumsier when he came out from one of his 'naps'.

You were heading out the door and caught sight of his bedroom, slightly ajar.

A pair of light blue panties were twisted on his mattress in a mess of slick that was not yours.

Something sinister and wanting bloomed inside as you slunk out the door. Maybe a trip to the lingerie shop was in order.

tags!

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander

@to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love @purple-amaranthe

@unear7hly @chaithetics @buckyssugarchick