#case can’t keep his hands to himself

[x3no9]

I am in love with these commissions from @ellenchain !! Thank you so much !! These are scenes from my William Case x Felix Neumann fic. Full versions are in the link.

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.

[geneviveleocardius]

some husband material headcanons with simon riley

late-night garage dances are his quiet way of loving you. when the house is quiet and you’re both waiting for your daughter to get home from a party, he’ll pull you into a slow dance. he doesn’t say much, just rests his chin on your head as the two of you sway to soft music in the dim light.

if you’re too tired to shower, he’ll gently coax you into letting him wash your hair. his hands are rough but so careful, massaging your scalp in a way that makes your shoulders relax instantly.

when you’re at the beach, you trace your name on his back with sunscreen, leaving the rest bare. later, when the tan sets in and your name is etched on his skin, he looks at it in the mirror and smirks. he loves the quiet claim you have on him, even if he pretends to roll his eyes when you point it out.

simon takes his time applying sunscreen to you at the beach, even though he could be quick about it. he’s meticulous, rubbing it in gently over your shoulders and back, making sure you don’t miss a spot. “can’t have you burning, love,” he says softly. he always uses it as an excuse to trail his fingers along your skin, a subtle moment of affection.

he’s big on touch, even if he doesn’t always initiate it. his favorite moments are when you lay your head on his chest at night and trace the scars on his arms. he doesn’t always talk about them, but he likes the way you don’t shy away from them either.

he’s the kind of dad who stays up until he hears the door click after a late night out. he’ll mutter about the time under his breath, but he softens immediately when your daughter leans in to give him a quick hug before heading to bed.

if he hears you sigh in frustration while cooking or doing something around the house, he’ll quietly walk over, take whatever you’re holding, and finish the job without a word.

he doesn’t say it often, but he loves being domestic with you. folding laundry, fixing things around the house, or even grocery shopping together is calming for him.

simon keeps a picture of the two of you tucked in his wallet—a candid photo of you laughing. when he’s away, he takes it out to remind himself what’s waiting for him back home.

he’ll let you put ridiculous face masks on him during a lazy evening, even though he grumbles about it. “this better not make me smell like a bloody fruit salad,” he mutters, but he stays still for you.

he’s terrible at hiding his smile when he hears you laugh. even in the most mundane moments, your happiness is his favorite sound.

sometimes, he’ll sneak up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and sway you gently to a song only he can hear.

if your child ever talks back to you or says something disrespectful, simon doesn’t let it slide for a second. his voice is calm but firm as he says, “that’s your mum you’re speaking to. apologize—now.” he rarely raises his voice, but the weight behind his words is enough to make them realize they’ve crossed a line. later, he’ll sit down with them, explaining why respect is non-negotiable. “she does everything for us. you don’t ever treat her like that, understood?”

when you have surgery, simon steps into full caregiver mode, even though it’s not something he’s entirely used to. he carefully helps you into the bath, always making sure you’re comfortable and secure. his touch is gentle as he washes you, murmuring, “tell me if anything hurts.”

he dries your hair after the bath, combing it slowly so it doesn’t tangle. “you’re still as gorgeous as ever,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

he insists on carrying you to bed, even if you tell him you can walk. “don’t argue with me, love. you’re meant to rest.” he tucks you in, makes sure you have everything you need, and stays close by in case you need him during the night.

simon takes every opportunity to teach your child the importance of kindness, especially toward you. he models this by being gentle with you, always showing them how love and respect are expressed.

he’s a firm dad, but never unfair. when he has to scold your child, he always makes sure they understand why their behavior was wrong, but he’s quick to reassure them that he loves them no matter what.

during your recovery from surgery, simon takes over all the household duties. he’s not a great cook, but he’ll follow recipes to the letter to make sure you’re well-fed. when something doesn’t turn out quite right, he mutters, “bloody hell,” but doesn’t stop trying.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Seeing ghosts in Gotham

He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.

His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.

Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.

Red Robin.

Danny shakes his head and turns around.

“Nope.”

A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.

He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.

Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.

“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”

“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.

He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.

“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.

“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”

Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.

“Do you not get what anonymous means?”

“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.

“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a runaway.”

Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.

“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”

Danny sneers in annoyance.

“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”

“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”

Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.

“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.

Red Robin pauses.

“Our time,” he repeats calmly.

“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”

“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.

“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”

Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.

“His name?”

Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.

Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?

“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.

Silence for a few moments, then-

“As in Gregory Boothe?”

The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.

Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.

“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”

Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.

“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”

Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.

Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.

“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.

Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.

“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.

“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”

Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.

“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.

Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”

Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.

“So… Greg?”

“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”

The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.

“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”

Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.

Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.

“Hey, Susan, can you go-“

The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.

“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”

The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.

They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.

He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.

At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?

He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.

It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.

Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.

“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.

There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.

“No.”

The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.

“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”

Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.

“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”

Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.

“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.

Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”

The vigilante doesn’t respond.

Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.

“Are these all files of victims?”

Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.

“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”

“There should be more.”

Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.

“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.

Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.

“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”

What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”

“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.

“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.

“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”

Danny frowns.

“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”

“You could be sixteen.”

No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.

“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.

“We want to help,” Red says too easily.

Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.

Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.

“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.

“We want to help-“

“You want me in your back pocket.”

Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.

Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.

Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.

It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.

Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.

Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.

It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.

“I know.”

…

“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”

Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

LOGAN HOWLETT 18+ thoughts bc I can’t get a grip

mdni, fem!reader. 685 words

Thinking about Logan playing with you from behind:

His back to the headboard, yours to his chest – warm skin pressed to his as you lay into him. It’s lazy, it’s comfortable. Your thighs parted loosely, bent knees resting against his straightened legs either side of you. 

It’s all so casual, one of his hands teasing at the fabric of your underwear, fingers extended down as he toys with you. Pad of his middle one circling your clit, working up that growing patch of wet. His other hand wrapped around your middle, palm large and warm over your stomach – holding you to him, keeping you firm to his chest. 

Your head hangs back on his collarbone, crown of your head resting slackly against his shoulder. You feel as though you’ve been run through the wringer, the minimal, inconsistent touch of where you wanted him causing you all sorts of anguish. 

He was teasing you, every touch calculated despite its relaxed environment. Just absentmindedly playing with you through the fabric, working you up to hear those soft, breathy whines of yours he loves ever so much.

And while you thought your patience was being tested, that was not solely the case. His toying coming from a place of reluctance – like he was seeing how long he can go without sinking a couple fingers in you. It was hard, and he was growing antsy. Just like you.

So after what feels like forever of faint, featherlight pussy play, he slips his hand down the front of your underwear, his fist protruding in the thin fabric. The bow sitting on his thick wrist, the lewd view of something so dainty and pretty against something so rugged and manly was overwhelming. The feeling making you tighten on nothing. The feeling releasing an involuntary soft moan. 

“Barely touched you yet, sugar,” he whispers behind you, voice gruff and low. 

The grip he has around your stomach raises, his touch light as he finds himself cupping under your tits – arm wrapped securely, fingers clasping at the one on the opposite side. Breasts resting on his meaty forearm, holding them carefully.

The hand in your underwear is barely moving, his fingers resuming their prior pattern of fiddly touching. Though, this time it’s beneath the fabric, not over. He dips his two middle fingers between your lips, tips of each immediately being coated with the eager anticipation betwixt your thighs. The tapered width of his fingers parting your folds ever so obscenely.

He’s hesitant, not because he doesn’t know what he’s doing, rather, the opposite. He’s hesitant because he knows what he’s doing. Waiting and waiting – being a tease with his hand grazing heavy against your wet cunt, the palm of his hand feeling the clamp-like, jitter motion of you beneath. 

He reaches his middle finger downwards, the tip delving inside of you —only up to the first knuckle— the feel giving you a brief, momentary wave of relief. 

It’s not enough, so you find yourself extending a hand down to his, your fingers struggling to envelop the meat of his wrist as you push him further into your underwear. Silently, desperately asking for more.

All he can do is chuckle faintly, the deep sound amused. He’s mean, but he’s not evil. So he gives you what you want – the full length of his middle finger, those few inches sinking inside with the greatest of ease. His ring finger easing in shortly after.

“Better?” he asks, the question almost rhetorical. He knew it was better.

Your grip around his occupied hand loosens, and instead moves to hold onto the arm around your upper torso – fingers pawing at the muscles. You go limp, melting into him from behind, your soft, dulcet noises echoing everything he does. Each of you looking down between your thighs, watching his fingers disappear inside you, his head resting against yours as you both stare at the near pornographic view. 

And as he begins to pump slowly inside —hooking his fingers up into all the right spots— you twist into him, pressing kisses into his bulging, veiny bicep. Wordlessly thanking him.

just watched dp3 again, christ

[sarahcmarie]

Don’t get me wrong I love the Tim drake tells his family about his trauma with out thinking to hard about it and them freaking out that’s great I love that hilarious BUT have you considered the hilarity of Tim Deliberately Hiding it from his family and the shenanigans he has to pull to keep them from finding out?

Que Tim drake trying to drink his coffee before Bruce comes to pick him up for lunch when suddenly one of Ra’s assassins come from the shadows to try to kidnap him and while Tim is trying to fight him he hears the alert that Bruce’s car pulled up his eyes widen as he shoves the assassin into the closet before Bruce can see and telling him to shut the fuck up for both of their sakes the assassin is so confused he just goes along with it

When Bruce comes in and see’s Tim’s ruffled shirt A broken vase in the hall and someone very clearly in the closet he chooses to ignore it because he REALLY does not want to know about his sons sex life

Red Robin gets stabbed mid patrol and has to pretend he’s worried about blood loss but actually he is annoyed because it was a rusty pipe so he KNOWS it’s gonna get infected and he does not wanna deal with that but can’t say that because then his family will know he doesn’t have a spleen

When a new supervillain comes around and starts cloning people Tim is the one who has the most information on how to catch him because of when he tried to clone Kon but only he and dick know this dick was obviously gonna bring this up so Tim could help on the case but it was also like 2:30 and he hadn’t slept in days so he decided to take a nap first only to be woken up by a shadow holding a hand over his mouth he nearly broke Tim’s jaw because of how bad he scared him and when dick asked him what the hell he was thinking Tim said to keep what happened with Kon to himself or else… the case was solved two days afterwards and dick kept his mouth shut but he had a new found fear for his little brother whom he loved (and feared) so much

There are many more fun instances that I am not creative enough to come up with so PLEASE feel free to add on

[lizziesangel]

thinking of reader wearing her glasses around rafe for the first time

SUMMARY: based on this request

it was the perfect kind of evening—warm, cozy, and full of comfort. rafe’s bedroom was dimly lit, the only light coming from the tv as it flickered with previews for the movie you were about to watch. you snuggled up on the couch, a blanket draped over both of you, the scent of freshly popped popcorn filling the air. it was the kind of night you had been looking forward to all week.

you were sitting cross-legged on his soft bed, nervously clutching a bowl of popcorn as the opening credits of the movie start rolling. your heart flutters when rafe plops down next to you, his broad shoulders brushing against yours. it’s been about a month since you started dating, and although he’s been nothing but sweet to you, there’s still a shy part of you that’s worried about how he sees you—especially tonight.

your vision had been getting worse lately, and the need for glasses had become more pressing. you were determined not to let it ruin the night, but as the movie started, your eyes began to strain. you only really needed them for things like driving or watching tv, but the idea of wearing them in front of Rafe made you self-conscious. what if they made you look… goofy?

rafe noticed immediately. he always did. "you good, princess?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye.

“yeah,” you reply quickly, but he doesn’t seem convinced. you didn’t want to admit that your eyes weren’t as sharp as they used to be. but the discomfort was becoming too much.

during the beginning of the movie, the words on the screen are a blur, and you know there’s no getting around it. slowly, you reach into your bag, pulling out the slim case that holds your glasses. you hesitate, stealing a glance at rafe, who’s too focused on the screen to notice.

you didn’t want rafe to think you were less than perfect.

with a quiet breath, you slip the glasses on.

“okay, better,” you mutter under your breath, settling back into the couch.

but suddenly, the room feels quieter. you turn to find rafe staring at you, the movie forgotten. his blue eyes are wide, and his lips part as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out.

your stomach flips. “what?” you ask, adjusting the glasses nervously.

he blinks, then runs a hand through his hair, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “nothing, i just… damn.”

“damn?” you repeat, your voice unsure.

“you look so cute,” he says, the words tumbling out as if he can’t help himself. he leans in closer, his gaze flickering over your face. “like, really, really cute. the glasses suit you.”

your cheeks heat up instantly. “stop,” you mumble, covering your face with your hands.

he gently pulls your hands away, holding them in his own. “i’m serious, though. i’m mad you didn’t tell me you’d look this adorable. it’s not fair.”

you roll your eyes, but a laugh escapes you, the tension melting away. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculously into you,” he counters without missing a beat. then he leans back, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you closer. “now, come on, we’ve got a movie to watch. but don’t blame me if i can’t concentrate.”

“you look,” he repeated, his voice now softer, almost in awe, “so freaking cute."

your face flushed deeper. “rafe, stop,” you muttered, trying to hide behind your hands.`

he shook his head in disbelief, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “i swear,” he chuckled, “you’re like a total vision in those.” he scooted closer, giving you a playful nudge.

“i didn’t think you could get any cuter. but here we are.”

and just like that, the movie plays on—but all you can think about is the way he keeps sneaking glances at you, the soft smile on his face proving just how smitten he really is.

MASTERLIST

[nateezfics]

Their reaction to you asking to cockwarm for the first time 😩

COCKWARMING ATEEZ

PAIRING — ateez x reader

GENRE — smut, romance, established relationship, boyfriend!ateez, fem bodied!reader, sub!reader, soft dom!ateez

WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex, cockwarming, semi public sex (hong’s studio), dirty talk//sexual language, intentional lower case and small font, intentional word abbreviations

WORD COUNT — 2.3k

SUMMARY — cockwarming ateez for the first time.

HONGJOONG

“so…just sit on it?”

hongjoong closed his eyes and inhaled. he was obviously growing impatient, what with his work needing to be done and his cock resting between your thighs, throbbing with need to get inside you. he held his cock and rubbed its head against your slick folds. “yes, baby. sit on it.”

the fabric of his t shirt crumpled in your fists as you braced yourself against him. you slipped down his length, sheathing it in your warmth. you both sighed, him at your tightness, and you at the stretch. instinctually your hips began to move, but a hand at your thigh quickly halted you.

“f-fuck,” he groaned, glaring down at his hand on your thigh like he wanted to do anything than keep you from bouncing on him. hongjoong swallowed while his thumb rubbed circles into your skin. “just sit. you gotta warm it. stay still while i work, okay?”

you huffed and leaned into his chest petulantly. two seconds into trying cockwarming for the first time and you already hated it. you wanted to move, needed to. his cock, nestled so deep inside, was brushing against that gummy spot; if you could just move, it’d feel so good. by this time he’d normally be pounding into you with reckless abandon, giving into what you both craved. right now, he was still, his arms around you as he busied himself with whatever it was he was working on. despite his cock being buried to the hilt in your cunt, he paid you no mind.

it wasn’t long before you were unable to withstand it any longer. you rocked your hips over his lap, whimpered into his ear that wasn’t covered with his headphones, and moaned his name weakly. and just when you thought he had a resolve of steel, his hips rutted upwards. “fuck it,” hongjoong cursed under his breath just as his hands found purchase on your hips, holding you still while his hips snapped into you repeatedly. “we’ll try again next time.”

SEONGHWA

“this piece, and t-this piece…” seonghwa’s deep voice was hoarse with need. and even as he thought aloud, trying to keep his mind together, he just couldn’t focus on the task at hand. he cursed, dropping the lego pieces onto the table. “fuck, baby, can’t i just –” he bucked his hips in a wordless plea.

you bit your lip to stifle a moan. you picked up the pieces again, offering them to him. “no, gotta stay still. it’s the whole point of cockwarming. now, finish building your set. you’re almost done.” you were sat atop him with your back to him. you watched his hands from each side of your form take the lego pieces again and resume what he had been doing.

seonghwa rested his chin on your shoulder. “this would be so much easier if i could focus, you know.” his fingers skillfully put the set together, the sight almost hypnotic to you.

“you don’t look like you’re having a hard time,” you replied, but were quickly reminded of the very hard cock nestled inside you.

he laughed and groaned at the same time, his breath fanning across your cheek. goosebumps scattered on your skin. seonghwa’s lips were against your ear then. “maybe…maybe i could take a little break, come back to this when i’ve cleared my head a little…” a hand slid down to where you were joined, his thumb pressing into your clit.

the clench around him was immediate, and you both almost lost all resolve right then and there. it was so tempting to just let him fuck you, even bend you over this table. but you weren’t going to back down, not yet. “keep working, just a little more. i promise you’ll get to fuck me. soon.”

the lego set was soon forgotten…

YUNHO

“yunho, please…” your cry fell on deaf ears, or rather, your cry simply did not penetrate the large headphones atop his head. you whimpered, cheek smooshed into his chest as you straddled him. he remained oblivious to you, too caught up in his video game. even with you wrapped around his thick cock, he was much more concerned with defeating his on screen opponents than fucking you. cockwarm me, he said. it’ll be fun, he said. you cursed him in your head.

you sat up straight, your face to his, effectively blocking his view of the computer screen. yunho was able to look over your shoulder with ease thanks to his larger frame, and this only fueled your annoyance more. you opted to trail kisses down his jaw, thinking that surely this would grab his attention. but no, it didn’t. the only sign he was even remotely affected was the slow bob of his adam’s apple. you groaned, and with no other option coming to mind, you took matter into your own hands and began bouncing on his lap, fucking yourself on his cock.

god, it felt good. so good. and you savored the sweet torture of his cock stretching your walls over and over, at least that was until one of his long arms wrapped around your frame to still you. you looked up at him to find that he was looking down at you, finally giving you attention for the first time since you’d been on him.

“what do you think you’re doing?” yunho had now paused his game, your bounces on his cock too much of a distraction. “I thought i told you to warm my cock while I played, not fuck yourself on it.”

“your game was taking too long, and –”

“and what? is my poor baby getting needy, huh?” yunho put his controller aside to hold your waist with both hands. with his full attention now on you, and that familiar dark look in his eyes, you didn’t feel as brazen as before. he chuckled, grinding his hips into yours in a way that had you melting in his arms. “well, if you wanted my attention so bad, now you have it. just remember you asked for this, baby.”

YEOSANG

“so…we just lay here?” yeosang’s voice was low in your ear, barely a whisper as you both payed attention to the movie. you were both on the couch, with him behind you and you settled comfortably in front of him. and his cock stuffed fully inside your cunt.

“yeah,” you said, and when you readjusted yourself, you pressed him further inside, making the poor man behind you groan.

“okay,” he started, strong arm tightening around you. he sounded winded, like he was struggling not to fuck you. which he definitely was, your tight walls tempting him to move. “but if we’re gonna do this, try not to move. please.”

the need in his velvety voice went straight to your core, and god, you almost caved at the sound. you weren’t fairing much better than him, but you at least wanted to give this a try. “okay, i’ll try.”

you managed to get through most of the movie with neither of you moving. his cock was still rock hard, and you were still so wet. your mind began to go numb, only occupied with thoughts of him, the movie a mere blur to you. it was getting closer to the end, and the end meant that finally he could move, could fuck you.

you intended to make it, to wait until you saw the credits that signaled the close of the movie, but yeosang’s hand pressing against your tummy showed that he had other plans. his hips moved tentatively back and forth; it was enough to make you both sigh out in pleasure. “i think,” he spoke between small ruts, “we’re close enough to the end.”

you nodded. “i think so too…” you rolled your rear against him for more friction.

“fucking finally.” there was a symphony of relieved moans at that first deep thrust of his hips.

SAN

san landed on top of you in a heap, panting heavily while he kissed your temple. your arms remained around his neck while you both came down from the high, your sweaty skin sticking together. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you kissed his shoulder. moments later he made to get off you, but you cried aloud, limbs wrapping around his body to keep him close. “stay inside of me.”

san laughed as his forehead rested against yours. “stay inside? but why? i’m all…soft now.”

“wanna cockwarm you. just for a little while.”

san was already inclined to do as you asked, but your pretty eyes looking up at him so cutely did him in. “okay. i’ll stay inside, baby.” san remained within you, but moved you both to lay on your sides for more comfort. his arms wrapped around you protectively.

you were content to pass the time listening to his heartbeat and revel in the intimacy of the moment. there was the occasional pillow talk over the most random things, soft giggles, and sweet kisses. sweet kisses that began to linger, grow deeper, and hands tangling in hair and soft sighs filling the air. the heated energy from before returned, and you felt the way san’s cock began to grow inside your walls.

you moaned, and san laughed, throwing your leg over his hip and thrusting. “i think i see why you wanted me to stay inside.”

you smiled as he began to fuck you, fully hard cock pushing you further towards your second orgasm of the night.

MINGI

“baby, i can’t sleep like this…”

“mingi, please,” you whined. “do it for me.” your boyfriend shifted behind you, large hands gripping your hips tightly. his cock was deep, already positioned to hit that sweet spot inside you if he only moved.

“how can i sleep when you’re so tight around me?” mingi was restless, your tight cunt the only thing occupying his mind. he was much too aroused to even attempt to find sleep. he was throbbing, the need to fuck you so intense it was unbearable. “I don’t even know why you wanted to do this in the first place.”

“mingi…” you huffed and fixed the pillow under your head, trying to not move your lower half at all. “just be still then if you can’t sleep.”

“you’re acting like you don’t inwardly want me to fuck you right now.”

“this isn’t about fucking.”

“like hell it isn’t,” mingi grumbled, starting to pull his hips back to thrust into you, but stopping himself. you didn’t make a sound, but the way you clenched around him told him everything. “your pussy is fluttering around me, begging to be fucked.”

when he pushed into your backside, you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped you. you heard him laugh behind you.

he kissed your neck. “what was that?”

you rolled your eyes though he couldn’t see. “okay, stop the teasing and just fuck me, will you?”

mingi thrusted into you forcefully. you cried out, barely catching your breath before he was moving again. “gladly.”

WOOYOUNG

“oh my god, wooyoung!” you cried into his neck, fists balling his shirt.

“feels good, yeah?” wooyoung kissed the top of your head while his thumb busied itself with your clit, rubbing smooth circles against the sensitive bud. you were spasming around his cock, so obviously close to cumming.

“this isn’t how it’s done,” you whined. “i’m just – fuck – supposed to warm your cock.”

“you are baby, but you never said i couldn’t rub your clit.” wooyoung was smug, staying completely still just like you asked him to despite him currently working you towards the edge. “you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

your head shook vigorously. “no! m’so close! so close!”

wooyoung smirked. “that’s what i thought.” his thumb was constant, steady rhythm on your bundle of nerves making you spiral in his lap.

“w-wooyoung, fuck!” your orgasm rushed through you, and you came hard around his still cock. you barely heard his low groan through the haze of your high.

“god, so tight, baby.” wooyoung gripped your hips, slamming you down onto him. “now it’s my turn to cum.”

JONGHO

“you’re so pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

jongho’s nasty words were punctuated by the sight of you in the mirror, splayed between his legs, your thighs open, and cunt stuffed full of his thick cock. you moaned, back arching and hips moving in search of friction. “jongho, please. fuck me.”

“not yet, i wanna admire you warming my cock some more.” his eyes found yours in the mirror, and he chuckled at the neediness in your gaze. “you can wait just a little while longer, can’t you?”

that was a stupid question only meant to tease you. he knew you couldn’t. he knew how desperate you were. you were leaking all around him, pussy begging for him to move. “i’ve already been waiting so long…”

“and you’ve been doing so good,” jongho praised with a kiss to your temple. “please just let me keep you like this for a little bit more. you’re just so pretty like this. i think we need to do this more often, baby. don’t you think so?”

you only whined in desperation. “I don’t wanna cockwarm you anymore, just want you to fuck me.”

jongho pinched your nipple, making you cry out. “so demanding,” he grunted. “if you want to cum at all tonight, you’ll stop whining, okay?”

you whimpered, but nodded anyway.

another kiss to your temple. “good, baby.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES — sooooo excited to finally have this posted 😩🙌🏻

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @hongthoven @httpseungmxn @itza-meee @jungkookieprincess @jaerisdiction @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @svintsandghosts @thesafecafe @wolfgurl2600-blog @5starduca

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[khioneee]

CATER 2 U

synopsis. rafe knew you weren’t a hardcore partygoer. but every once in a while, you’d indulge him and come along. pairing. rafe cameron x reader content. lowkey fluffy. dotting boyfriend (mans down bad). slight jealousy. alcohol. word count. 1.1k

the moment you walked in, rafe was already in protector mode. he found you a comfortable spot to sit, clearing the area like a professional bodyguard.

‘here, baby,’ he said, handing you your kindle, which he’d thoughtfully grabbed from the car. ‘brought this just in case you needed it.’ he crouched down in front of you, his hand brushing against your knee as he smiled softly. ‘water or soda? unless you’re planning on drinking tonight. your choice, sweetheart.’

you shook your head, amused at how seriously he was taking this. but you knew it was just his way of making sure you were comfortable in a space that wasn’t naturally yours.

throughout the night, rafe’s eyes would drift to you, even while he was in conversation with his friends. he’d glance your way, mouthing a quick ‘you good?’ from across the room.

you’d nod, and he’d give you a satisfied little smile before turning back to whoever had his attention.

at one point, he returned with a big bag of chips, setting it in your lap. ‘here, sweetheart. the kitchen’s packed, wouldn’t want you to get caught in a stampede.’ you couldn’t help but laugh at how thoughtful he was, even in the middle of chaos.

when you needed to use the restroom, he was right there, following close behind and standing outside the door like a loyal guard dog. he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the hallway for any sign of trouble. he didn’t care if anyone teased him.

he knew how unpredictable parties could get, and he wasn’t about to take any risks when it came to your safety.

when someone drunkenly stumbled too close to the door, he stepped forward, his broad frame blocking their path entirely. ‘keep walking,’ he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

and when you emerged from the restroom, his eyes immediately softened. ‘all good?’ he asked, one hand instinctively brushing against your back as he guided you back toward the main party.

it was little things like this that reminded you why you felt so safe with him.

as the night wore on, rafe found himself caught in a lengthy business interaction outside. but even then, he wasn’t about to leave you unattended.

‘lover boy’s doing business,’ topper announced as he plopped down in the armchair near you, a playful smirk on his face. ‘hi, doll.’

you looked up from your kindle, surprised but grateful for the company. ‘he sent you over?’

‘of course,’ topper said, crossing his arms and leaning back as if settling in for the long haul. ‘can’t let you fend for yourself, can we?’

you chuckled softly, pushing your undrunk beer toward him. one of the many drinks rafe had brought for you earlier. ‘want this? i’m not gonna finish it.’

topper waved it off with mock seriousness. ‘no, ma’am. i’m on duty.’

you raised an eyebrow, amused. ‘duty?’

‘yep,’ he said, leaning forward slightly, his tone teasing but good-natured. ‘rafe made it clear—keep an eye on you. so,’ he gestured toward your kindle with a grin, ‘what are we reading tonight?’

you laughed, appreciating how even his friends were roped into rafe’s overprotective tendencies. but that was just rafe, always making sure you were cared for, even when he wasn’t by your side.

as night blurred into morning, rafe wandered over to you, his steps slow and deliberate. you glanced up at him with a soft smile as he crouched slightly in front of you, his hand reaching up to gently brush a stray hair out of your face.

‘you good, sweetheart?’ he asked, his voice quiet, almost lost in the muffled bass of the party music.

you nodded, though the faint yawn you tried to stifle didn’t go unnoticed.

his lips quirked up into a knowing smile, his thumb grazing your cheek for just a second. ‘just say the word, and we’re out of here, alright? we don’t have to stay if you’re tired.’

you shook your head lightly, touched by his attentiveness. ‘i’m fine, rafe. really.’

but he tilted his head, narrowing his eyes just a bit. ‘no need to be polite, baby. you know i’d rather be with you anyway.’

rafe’s sharp eyes caught sight of you across the room, and he froze mid-conversation. there you were, sitting on the couch, your usual spot.

but this time, someone else was next to you.

a guy.

he was leaning in, his arm casually draped along the back of the couch, too close for rafe’s liking. worse, you were laughing at something he said. you were laughing, completely unaware of the tension building across the room.

rafe’s jaw tightened, the edges of his calm facade slipping as a flush of irritation rose to his cheeks. his friends followed his line of sight, their chatter dying out.

topper raised a brow, muttering, ‘uh-oh.’

rafe didn’t respond. he didn’t need to. he was already moving, cutting through the crowd with purpose, his broad frame towering over anyone who didn’t step aside quickly enough.

reaching the couch, rafe didn’t say a word to the guy. instead, he dropped onto the arm of the chair beside you, his movement sharp and intentional. as he sat, his hand brushed against the guy’s arm, deliberately shoving it off the back of the couch.

the guy flinched, looking up at rafe, only to be met with an icy glare that sent him reeling.

‘hey, baby,’ rafe said, turning to you with a smile that was a little too tight.

‘hey!’ completely oblivious, you beamed up at him. ‘we were just talking about books. turns out we’ve read a lot of the same ones.’

rafe let out a low, unimpressed hum, his arm moving to rest on the couch behind you, claiming the space the guy had just occupied. ‘is that so?’

the guy stammered something about needing another drink, his confidence wilting under rafe’s glare as he quickly stood and disappeared into the crowd.

you blinked, glancing at rafe. ‘did you scare him off?’

rafe tilted his head, his lips twitching into a smirk as he looked down at you. ‘nah, baby. he just realized he wasn’t needed here.’

you furrowed your brows but let it go, leaning back into rafe’s arm as he relaxed against the chair.

after a moment, rafe glanced down at you, his voice softening. ‘let’s go home.’

you smiled, nodding as rafe helped you up, his hand steady on your waist.

and as you left the party together, rafe cast one last glance at the guy from across the room—a silent warning that needed no words.

after a beat, rafe tilted his head down toward you. ‘you don’t need anyone else to talk books with, baby,’ he murmured, leaning in close, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. ‘you’ve got me.’

[thundersoothers]

spike, the dog (still derogatory)

who: John Price x wife!reader

what: continuation of this fic and this thought about john price being a softie for his wife and the dog you found on the side of the road (y’all LOVEDDDDD this, thank u omg)

word count: 0.9k

“We are not naming the fucking dog Gremlin.”

“Pooh Bear.” 

“No.” 

You and John are sitting in the living room, staring at the dog you picked up from the side of the road a few days ago, trying to come up with a name for him.  

Convincing your husband to let you keep the dog was a challenge.  It felt like you were debating with judge, jury, and executioner.  Stakes were high.  He was sitting across from you at the dining room table, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.  His eyes were narrowed at you and his face was expressionless, giving nothing away as you plead your case. 

Somehow, you won. 

So now, here you both are, brainstorming names to replace “Puppy”.  You’re holding the dog in your arms on the couch and John is sitting across from you in his chair. 

“And where the hell did you come up with these names?” 

“I have a list.” 

“You have a list?” 

“I have a list,” you say, “of dog names and baby names.  Every girl does.” 

And then, for just a second, the room stills. 

“Baby names?” John asks. 

A shiver runs up the bottom of your spine and you sit up a little straighter.  You feel the air buzz and John’s heavy gaze on you. 

“Yeah,” you say, glancing at John and then back at the dog in your lap.  “But—Pooh Bear?” 

After a long second, he says, “No.”

“Georgie Banks.” 

“The actress?” 

“Wha— no, fucker, Georgie Banks from Mary Poppins.” 

“… I’ll consider it.  What else.” 

“Ja’Marcus.” 

“My love,” he says, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands together, looking at you seriously.  “What the fuck are you talking about.  It’s a dog.” 

“Tra’davious.” 

“I’m making a list,” he scoffs, sitting back again.  “Jesus.” 

“It’s a nice name!” you exclaim.  “What are you gonna name him, Scout?” 

He looks at you.  

You look at him. 

“No.”  Your face drops and you almost shudder.  “No, John, that’s not even funny.” 

“Oreo?”  The corner of his mouth twitches but he quickly steels himself. 

“Stop.”  You hold the dog close to your chest, horrified. 

“Rocky?” 

“No!” 

“Buddy?” 

“John.” 

“We could just call him Puppy.” 

“What is this, Bird Box?  When Sandra Bullock named her kids Boy and Girl?  We can’t just name the dog Dog.  We would sound like neglectful parents.” 

“Your friend has a dog named Cat,” John says. 

“And that gets confusing because she just got a cat.  I think she’ll have to rename Cat.  And by Cat I mean the dog.  Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head, eyebrows furrowed.  What a mess that would be. 

“We could name him after your team…?” you say, the idea popping into your head.  Then, you frown.  “I’m not calling him Kyle, though.  That’s too human.  Ghost?  He is—you know.”  You rub over the dog’s mangey back gently.  “A little ghastly, still.” 

“Riley?” 

“Who’s Riley?” 

“No one.”

You eye him.  “Must be one of your other wives…” 

He ignores you.  “It would inflate their egos too much.  They’re already insufferable enough.  And,” he adds, “they don’t need another reason to suck up to you.” 

“They don’t suck up to me,” you say. 

“Sweetheart,” he says.  “They suck up to you.” 

“A pun with Price?  Uhhhh… High?  Low?  Buy one get one?  Bogo?”  You hold up the dog, as if to present him.  “Bogo Price, son of Mr. and Mrs. John Price?” 

“You think you’re funny,” John says. 

“I think I’m hilarious.” 

“How about Mackie?  For Mack?  Soap’ld love that–Scottish for ‘my son’.” 

“… I’ll consider it.” 

“You did find him near Notting Hill.  Maybe Notting?” 

You shudder.  “No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Knotting.  It’s a—I’ll explain it to you later.”  

(By later you mean never.  Explaining A/B/O to your husband who doesn’t have any social media?  And has never heard of the website Ao3?  He’d have an aneurysm and then wonder why you know about it.  And you cannot have that conversation.) 

“What are the characters from Notting Hill again?” he says, scratching his chin. He needs to shave—well. You need to shave him, rather. “We just watched it.  William Thacker, Anna Scott, uh, her shit husband, what’s his name—“ 

“Jeff King.” 

“Jeff King, yeah.  King, maybe?” 

“Look at him, John.”  You turn the dog to face him.  He wiggles in your hands and yips, his tongue falling out of his mouth.  “He’s not a King.” 

He sighs and shakes his head.  “He’s not a King.” 

“What about William’s weird roommate?  Uh, Spike?” 

“Spike,” John repeats slowly. 

You nod.  “Spike.” 

You both focus on the dog. 

“I like Spike,” you say. 

“I like Spike, too.” 

You hum, considering this.  “Spike…”  You narrow your eyes and study the dog closely, holding him tighter in your hands. 

He yawns with a high-pitched whine and then hacks.  

“Jesus,” John mutters, shaking his head. 

“Better than Georgie, Banks, or Mackie?” 

“Yeah,” John says, “look at ‘im.  He’s a Spike.” 

“He’s such a Spike,” you muse.  “He’s gonna be huge, too.  I mean, look at his ears and paws–they’re already too big for him.  Shit, he’s probably gonna be 70 pounds or 30 kilos.” 

“We need to train him.” 

“Yeah.  I can hire a trainer?  Find one online.” 

“I could get a trainer from base.” 

“I do NOT want an army dog.” 

“It wouldn’t be an army dog.  It would be a dog trained by the army.” 

You eye him.  “John.” 

“Love.” 

You sigh.  “Fine.”

“Good girl.”

note: prob gonna make wife!reader and spike a universe/series bc i loveeeee them. I hope you enjoy!!!!

posted 01.02.2025.

do not repost or modify any of my original words on any other platform.

to masterlist.

[silkythewriter]

Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!

Warnings!:non!

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)(｡•́︿•̀｡)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime

❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

“Each time I find myself

Flat on my face

I pick myself up and get back in the race!”

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!📺✨Vox✨📺!

When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!

Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?

At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!

He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.

He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!

He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!

Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience

Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.

This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.

Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.

Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.

Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!

Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too

He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.

He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.

He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.

He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥

He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out

NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.

Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!

Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.

It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.

And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.

He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.

He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.

But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!

Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course

Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.

If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always

Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!

Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.

He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet

He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. （；へ：）but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… (￣▽￣💧

He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!

Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!

Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.

He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!

You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.

Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!

Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’

[girlygguk]

NOT JUST ON CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

he's the first boy you've ever brought home for christmas. jungkook's nervous. you're horny.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 4 of 6

pairing nerdy!jk x gf!reader

genre established relo, college au, fluff, smut (18+ mdni)

content jk 21 | yn 21, spirited extro gf x soft angel bf, jk comes home w oc for the holidays, he’s so soft and shy, until he isn’t oop, i triedd w the context but this rlly is just oc getting the xmas dicking she deserves, kissing, cursing, switchy soft dom jk, giddy subby oc, they try to keep quiet, keyword try, dirty talk, cunnilingus, jk's a munch, condomless p in v sex, oc on pill, creampie, they're literal angels & i would die for them

word count 4.8k

banner by the gorgeously gifted @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

“My mom loves you.”

“You think?” Jungkook’s lips tilt into a soft smile, his hand warm and steady as it glides over your thigh, draped comfortably across his waist. “She’s amazing. I see her in you a lot.”

Your nose scrunches as you smile softly into the curve of his arm, your fingers absently tracing along his chest. When your nails graze over his nipple, you feel it perk up under your touch, and you can’t resist pressing a light kiss to the skin beneath your lips.

“You’re so easy to love, baby,” you murmur, your voice muffled slightly against his arm. But you know he hears you from the way his chest rises and falls a little faster, betraying the quiet effect you always have on him. “Had me whipped from the first time I saw you.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows cutely, the same expression he always makes when you say this. He never quite believes it, even now. You can tell he’s picturing that day—how you noticed him tucked into the back of the freshman seminar, seated in a corner with his laptop angled slightly, like a shield in case someone dared to take the empty seat beside him.

That someone had been you.

Coming to Seoul for university had been a big deal—not just for you, but for your family and everyone back home in Namhae-gun who’d cheered you on. You weren’t naturally gifted in academics the way your boyfriend was, but you worked hard, just like he did. You’d taken every extra shift you could at your local little grocer, worked the after-school care program at Sannie’s elementary school, and with some help from your mom and stepdad, you pieced together what your scholarship didn’t cover.

With that, you packed your clothes and favorite trinkets from your childhood bedroom, said goodbye to your family and the friends you’d known your whole life, and set off for the big, bright Seoul city.

It was bittersweet. Namhae-gun had been your whole world, but Seoul was your dream. And now, as you looked at Jungkook beside you, his pretty face soft in the dim light of your room, you realized he was now your new both. Your world and your dream. Your present and your future.

You still talked to your best friends, Lila and Jimin, nearly every night over FaceTime, Jungkook joining most times. He’d been so adorably shy the first time they demanded to meet him, visibly nervous they wouldn’t like him. It still baffled you sometimes, how he could think that way. How he didn’t see himself the way you did.

Because, in your eyes, he was everything. The cutest, dorkiest, sexiest nerd you’d ever met—you’d kill for him. You knew Lila and Jimin would fall for him too. And they did.

Your extroverted best friends even begged him for his socials, which he shyly handed over, his cheeks pink as he spoke out his handles. He almost choked on his own saliva when Lila let out the loudest moan mid-call, suddenly thrusting her iPad at the screen to show his latest post. It was a photo of the two of you at the beach—you, in a little multicolored bikini holding the camera out, and Jungkook with his big, wet chest on full, bare display beside you.

You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement at her thirsting over your handsome boyfriend, cupping the side of his burning face as he ducked his head into your neck. His linked arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as you nestled in his lap.

“Angel?” he murmured quietly into your neck. “Why would she say t-that?”

The disappointment—and maybe even slight annoyance—in his pouty tone made you want to slam your laptop shut and take him as far down your throat as you could. Instead, you’d cooed softly, turning your head to kiss his warm cheek and whispering in his ear that she was, in fact, a raging lesbian.

“Oh,” he whispered back, tickling your skin. “Okay.” His pout relaxed, and you felt the softest, relieved little smile on his lips against your neck.

You had bitten back a moan of your own at how much that turned you on, turning to pepper his round cheek with a hundred kisses until his blush faded and the corners of his lips tugged into a cute little bunny grin. You smiled fondly at the memory of Jimin groaning dramatically while Lila yelled at you to go lower.

“Your stepdad asked me to join him for golf tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s soft, nervous voice pulls you from your thoughts. You hum in surprise and beam up at him, fingers brushing lightly along his tummy. “Really? Oh, baby, that’s so great. Are you going to go?”

“Y-yeah,” he says, swallowing hard. His throat bobs as he glances down at you, your cheek now pressed against his chest. His hand lingers at your waist, fingers curling gently into your soft skin. “Would you… would you like to come?”

You coo softly, nodding as your lips brush the curve of his collarbone. “If you want me to, honey,” you murmur, your mouth pressing a little kiss to his pebbled nipple. His chest stutters with a throaty breath, and you grin against his skin. “I’d love to.”

“Always want you to come with me, baby,” he breathes, his voice unsteady as you tilt your head, lips wrapping softly around the bud. Your gaze drifts up lazily to his beautiful face, his eyes already half-lidded. “E-everywhere I go. Wish I could take you.”

“Mmm.” The hum vibrates against his chest as your hand slides up to scratch lightly over his other nipple, your teeth grazing over the one caught between your lips. His hips shift beneath you, his breath catching as his pants pick up. “I’ll follow you wherever you go, my love."

Jungkook tries to stifle the whine rising in his throat, but it slips out anyway, soft and desperate, when your teeth scrape just a little harder over his nipple. His fingers flex at your waist, gripping you tighter.

“Ahh,” he heaves under his breath, his head lolling softly into the pillow. “Baby, we-we can’t.”

You hum, brow arching slightly in amused defiance. “And why is that, honey?” Your lips brush over both of his nipples, one flushed red and swollen from your mouth, the other stiff and sensitive from your nails.

“B-because,” he stammers, his eyes fluttering open just in time to catch you tossing the blanket off your waists and shifting to straddle his lap. His breath hitches as your thighs settle around him, your body hovering prettily above his. He swallows hard, his focus slipping as he tries to gather himself. “Your parents, angel. What if they—”

You cut him off with a soft kiss, your palms flattening against his chest as you lean in to steal his breath. His exhale trembles through his nose, and he lets out a desperate mewl when he tries to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing your lips. You pull back just enough to keep him chasing you.

“Their room’s on the other side of the house, my darling,” you murmur against his lips, your voice low and sweet. “So is Sannie’s. Nobody’s gonna hear your cute little noises.”

Jungkook flushes a deep pink at that, his pout immediate and utterly adorable. You dissolve into giggles, your nose brushing his as he huffs. He doesn’t correct you, though. He knows better and so do you. You’re always the one who can’t stay quiet during sex, no matter how much he whispers please, baby, they’re gonna hear us against your skin.

The thought makes your heart race. Sometimes you still can’t believe he was a virgin before you. Not with the way he fucks. Sweet and shy as he is, Jeon Jungkook turns into something else entirely when he’s inside you.

Your first time together had been soft and clumsy and perfect. Tucked into the covers of his dorm bed while his roommate Taehyung spent the night at his girlfriend’s place. He’d asked if you were okay a hundred times, his hands shaking against your skin as he moved so carefully, so sweetly. You’d never felt more loved.

But the second time?

Once he stopped asking if you were alright every thirty seconds, once he started trusting you when you told him you fucking loved it and to keep going, he went.

Oh, how he fucking went.

That second night, your own roommate had come back early—earlier than she said she would—and screamed the moment she opened the door. She’d walked in to find your shy, soft-spoken, nerdy boyfriend fucking you raw from behind on your bed, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusted you back and forth on his cock, your makeup-smeared face buried in the pillow, your throat raw from begging.

“We’ll be quiet,” you lie softly against his mouth, your lips brushing his as you lean back down, rolling your hips over his stiffening cock. The thin fabric of your Christmas pajama shorts drags over his matching pants, the friction making him shudder beneath you. “Haven’t fucked me since yesterday morning, baby,” you pout, leaning up with a little huff, bouncing brattily in his lap. “You hate me.”

“D-don’t ever say that again, baby,” he husks, his voice so fucking low as you begin to grind your slickening core against him. “Love you more than life itself.”

“Yeah?” you whisper, your tone turning smug, satisfied. You drag yourself along the length of him again, slow and pointed, humming at the way he twitches beneath you. Leaning down, you hover just over his parted lips, so close your breaths mingle. “You love me that much, baby?”

He’s fighting it—you can see it. The way his jaw tightens, his brows knitting. His throat works around a sound he’s determined to swallow. His resolve is wavering. His control crumbling—or crumbled, he doesn't fucking know—as you roll your hips again, the wet heat of you seeping through the fabric between you.

“That mu-much, baby,” he chokes out, his voice strained. His long fingers dig gently into the soft flesh of your waist, guiding you as you move against him, his grip both a plea and a surrender all at once.

Your lips curl into a triumphant smile against his as you grind yourself back and forth with just a bit more pressure. You feel the way his breath hitches, the way his resistance falters. He knows he’s already lost.

And you know it too when his big hands slide under the hem of your little green singlet, patterned with tiny reindeers and snowflakes, gripping your hips firmly before flipping you both over.

Your big eyes blink up at him, maybe a little too giddy, as he hovers above you. He shakes his head softly, his bunny nose twitching, and then leans down to take the kind of kiss he’s been craving all day.

The kind of kiss he’s wanted since dinner, when your parents were fawning over him between bites of food, praising him for everything from his sweet nature to his thoughtful gift for San.

The one he hasn’t had a chance to steal since he was sitting nervously beside you on the living room couch, watching your baby brother open the limited-edition Iron Man figure Jungkook had picked out just for him. Sannie had sprinted up to your boyfriend, his tiny arms wrapping around him, hugging him so tight and calling him the best hyungie he’s ever had.

And, yeah, okay, maybe he cried a little.

It’s the first time all day he’s had you to himself, the first time since yesterday afternoon. The afternoon he’d spent with you in the communal kitchen at your college, baking the Christmas tree-shaped cookies you’d brought home for your family in a big container.

The same cookies he had snuck an extra one to Sannie, even when you told your little brother no more after two. He couldn't help it, folding instantly when the adorable kid tugged on his sleeve with those big, pleading eyes—the ones that reminded him a little too much of you.

Jungkook thought you hadn’t noticed, but of course you did. You’d stood quietly in the doorway, watching as your gentle giant boyfriend snuck two cookies from the container and handed one to San, his lips twitching with a soft laugh when your brother shoved the whole thing into his mouth like Jungkook might change his mind and take it back.

The feeling of your lips wrapping around his tongue pulls him back to the present, and he lets out a breathy groan into your mouth. You swallow it greedily, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as you tug his warm, solid weight down into you, relishing in having him pressed so heavily against you.

“Needa be quiet, baby,” he says, his voice low and breathy, maybe even a little whiny as he pulls away reluctantly. “C-can’t have your dad hearing us. I won’t be able to play golf with him tomorrow if I can’t look him in the eye.”

You hum as your lips chase his, dazed and unbothered. “You hate golf,” you murmur absently, your hands sliding up to cradle the sides of his neck, your thumbs brushing soft, hot skin. Then your tongue slips past his lips again.

He lets out something between a grunt and a laugh, his resistance melting away as his big tongue laps against yours. You taste the faint trace of toothpaste as you kiss him deeper, chasing every last hint of it, your body tingling as you take his tongue further into your mouth.

It’s no surprise that he’s already fully hard, just like it’s no surprise that you’re already fucking drenched. His stiff cock presses down against your stomach, and your hips buck instinctively at the feeling, a mewly moan spilling from your lips without care.

His hand slides up from your waist to wrap gently around your throat, and your brows furrow in pleased anticipation through closed eyes, silently hoping he’ll squeeze harder. He does, in a way, his fingers pressing softly against the sides of your neck, enough to make your head spin. The kiss slows as he pulls back slightly, leaving you pouty and blinking up at him.

His cheeks are flushed, his soft lips slightly swollen, his big, gorgeous nose marked faintly on the bridge from where his glasses had rested earlier. He looks down at you before speaking, his voice reluctant, heavy with the words he feels he has to say.

“Quiet, please, angel.”

You lick your lips, trying to chase more of his taste. “Okay, cutie,” you say with a sweet smile, nodding softly as you gaze up at him. “I’ll be quiet.”

His tongue darts out to lick over his lips, as if he’s doing the same as you, before he smiles knowingly. “Liar.”

He’s back on your mouth, his fingers still brushing softly over your throat as his lips capture yours again. This time, he takes your tongue into his mouth, sucking in a way that’s both soft and firm, pulling wet, breathy pants from you chest. Your ankles tighten around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. There’s not even any fucking space between you, but you're not a quitter, grinding pathetically up into him, hips searching for the angle you need.

And then you find it.

“mmmM,” you whine as his hard, covered cock presses perfectly through your pussy lips.

Jungkook groans low into your mouth at the feeling, his lips and tongue moving with messily with yours. He’s devouring you, the wet, sticky sounds of your kissing filling the room as you grind yourself shamelessly against him. The friction is heavy, perfect as his cock is stiff and hot beneath the thin barrier of his pajama pants. Your hips move instinctively, searching for more, harder, faster, anything to ease the ache between your legs.

His hand tightens around your throat, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep your head swimming. His lips break from yours with a slick little pop, leaving your lips humming and eyes hazy as they meet his flushed face. His eyes are wide and wet as his grip on your neck loosens, trailing down to your waist.

“Needa taste it, baby,” he rasps, his voice wrecked as he slips lower, dragging his big frame down the bed. “Please baby? Need to taste you.”

The words make your head spin, and you breathing out a pleading god yes baby as his hands grip the waistband of your shorts, tugging them and your panties down in one motion. The cool air against your slick heat makes you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his big tongue licking a fat stripe right up your drippy folds.

“Baby—fuckk,” you breathe, your thighs trembling as his mouth works into you. He’s messy with it, always is, his tongue dipping inside your hole, then dragging back up to swivel around your clit. His big nose presses against you as he eats, throat humming and brows furrowing like they always do when he tastes a really good dish.

He pulls back just enough to breathe out, “S-so yummy, baby. I love it. Love it so fucking much.” His lips latch onto your clit, sucking it between his lips and humming dirtily, making your hips jerk up into his face.

“Hahhh,” you whimper, your voice high and dumb as your hands tangle in his hair, tugging hard when his tongue flicks even faster. “Shit, Jung- baby, uuh—”

Jungkook moans into your pussy, the sound high-pitched and needy, vibrating against your soppy heat. His jaw drops as he pushes in deeper, taking your whole pussy into his big mouth, completely forgetting the need for either of you to shut the fuck up. You’re dripping everywhere, your slick coating his lips and chin, and he laps it all up like an eager dog, his hands gripping your plushy thighs to keep you spread wide.

He lifts his head just long enough to suck in a breath before gathering a thick pool of spit in his mouth. He leans back down, face burying between your legs, and lets the saliva drool onto your folds before dragging his tongue through the mess, licking and lapping it all back up greedily.

Your body writhes under him, your head sinking back into the pillow as one hand fists tighter in his hair and the other grips the sheets desperately. Your mind reels, fragments of random thoughts flashing through it—the curve of the statue of liberty, the lucky quarter you found on your walk with him in the city, the moment you first kissed. Everything and nothing blurs together and you realize with a hum that your life is flashing right before your fucking eyes.

You’re trembling, vibrating against the bed, choking on the little noises slipping from your lips. Another uh. And another. And another.

“God, baby. That’s— uh, fuck. So fucking good. Eat your fucking pussy, baby.”

Jungkook whimpers into you, his voice muffled by your cunt as his head follows the desperate rut of your hips. You buck against his mouth, but his hands hold you down, his tongue relentless. “My pussy,” he breathes against your folds, the words so adorably possessive. “It’s my pussy, baby.”

“That's r-right,” you gasp, your head lifting weakly to meet the sight of him—his face filthy, drenched, his mouth and nose buried in your heat as he tongue fucks your cunt like it's his last day on earth. “Your fucking pussy, baby.”

Jungkook groans against you, wet and desperate, his hips shifting against the mattress as he thrusts into nothing, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He knows he’s close—so close that it’s embarrassing. He can feel himself leaking through the fabric, and it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s cumming right there in his pajama pants.

And you know it too. So you beg.

"Please, baby. Wanna cum with you, Kookie... Please."

His face morphs into a little pout as he slows, pulling away from his meal reluctantly, tongue flicking one last time at your puffy folds before his hands leave your thighs. He’s panting as he climbs back up your body, unable to deny you anything in the world, lips and chin glistening with your slick.

You smile at his wet face, your hands slipping up into his messy curls as you tug him down for a kiss. The taste of yourself on his tongue is heady, dizzying, and you let out a little moan as you suck every last bit of it from his mouth. Jungkook groans into it, the sound so low that it almost resembles a cute little growl.

When you pull back, giving his swollen, red pout one last kiss, your gaze flickers down to his hand rubbing over his painfully hard cock. You bite your lip, your eyes trailing back up to meet his as you blink, waiting patiently.

He licks his lips, leaning down for one more quick kiss as his fingers fumble at his waistband. There’s a soft shuffle, and then his cock is free, flushed and heavy in his hand as he slides it against your slick folds. Your breath catches as he lines himself up, his hooded gaze locked on yours, brows furrowed in concentration.

He doesn’t need to look. His cock presses into you with an ease that has you keening, the thick head stretching you open as he pushes in. You feel every inch of him as he sinks deeper, feeding you more and more until your nails dig into his shoulders. The burn makes your jaw fall open, your head tipping back against the pillow.

“Ah,” he groans, his voice breaking as he bottoms out. “It’s so warm, baby—”

You’re already trembling, your walls fluttering around him as he starts to move, pulling out all the way before sinking right back in. “So big, Jungkookie,” you whimper, your fingers gripping his shoulders. “F-fuck, I love your dick so much.”

“Yeah?”

There it fucking is.

“You love it, baby? Love this fucking cock, baby?” he rasps, his hips snapping harder now, the loud, wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass filling the room.

“It’s yours.” Slap. “Your fucking cock.” Slap. “Will always be your fucking cock.”

Your pussy clamps around him, eyes rolling back as choked fucks spill from your lips. You can’t answer, your voice lost to your moans, your body arching into his as he pounds into you, each thrust hitting that spot inside that makes your vision blur. You barely register the slam of the headboard against the wall, too cock-drunk to care as he presses a big hand to your belly.

“Feel that?” he growls, his palm firm against your abdomen. “Feel me, baby? Fucking up inside of you right here?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp, your hands scrambling for purchase against his back. “Oh my god, yes, yes—”

His other hand slides up your body, under your singlet to find your nipple and roll it between his fingers. The sensation makes you jerk against him, your cries spilling freely now. “So loud,” he mutters, though his lips quirk like he’s fucking proud of it. “God, you just can’t help it, can you, baby?”

He knows you love it when he talks to you like this. You’ve told him so more than once. He didn’t know how he felt about it at first, but when it had you cumming harder, whining more, it wasn’t really a choice anymore. He’d do anything to make you feel like that, give you anything you wanted.

You don’t have a chance to respond—not coherently, at least. His thumb drags from your hip, slipping down to your swollen, throbbing clit. He rubs big, messy, wet circles over the sensitive nub, and your vision shakes as you feel it coming.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans when you let out that shaky little noise and that trembling clench you always do when you’re about to cum. “Cum for me. Let me feel it. Cum on your cock, baby.”

Yes. Yes.

“Yes!” you scream, your body seizing up, waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cry out, your hands slipping from his hair, nails raking down his bare back as you orgasm. “Baby, uh—fuck!”

He doesn’t slow, his hips pounding into you as his own release builds. “G-gonna fill you up,” he chokes out, his thrusts erratic now. “Fuckkkk, baby, gonna cum so fucking deep inside you.”

“Yes,” you whimper the only word you seem to know. “Wannit so bad, Kookie.” You slur, voice breaking as he keeps fucking into you like a fleshlight. “Wanna feel your cum fill up my fucking pussy, baby, g-g-godddd.”

He shudders above you, his hips snapping hard with one long, deep thrust as he chokes out a cuumming, baby before spilling into you, his deep moan vibrating through your bedroom.

His thumb doesn’t stop.

He’s panting hard, hips fucking in and out of your leaking hole while you milk every last drop of sticky cum from his softening cock. “Come on, angel, gimmie one more, please. Please, angel.”

He’s pleading. You’re dying. Your body is convulsing, clenching and squeezing around his cock, somehow pulling even more of his load when he thought he had no more left to fucking give.

“One more, baby. That’s it. That’s it. There we go.”

Your eyes roll back, the dirtiest moan tearing from your throat as you squeal and shake around his cock. Your second orgasm hits you even harder than the first. He works you through it, rocks you through it, pushing his hips flush against yours so the head of his cock bulges and pulses against your g-spot, spelling his name on your clit with his thumb while you give him one fucking more.

Your chest heaves as your body trembles beneath him, your hands clutching weakly around his sides. Jungkook’s hips still, his cock twitching inside you as he breathes heavily, his forehead pressing softly against yours. He lifts his thumb from your clit, panting, and brings it to his lips without thinking, sucking your slick from his finger.

When he pulls it free, his eyes blink open, dazed and drunk. “I-I can’t believe we did that,” he chokes out. “We were so loud.”

You giggle softly, batting his hand away from his mouth to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down until his weight sinks against you. “Babyyy,” he groans in protest, squirming slightly. “I don’t wanna squish you.”

You grumble, your legs locking around his waist again, keeping him firmly in place. His softening cock shifts slightly inside you, and you hum contentedly. “You’re fine, my love. Perfect.”

He lets out a grumpy little whine before conceeding and resting his head in the crook of your neck. His chest rises and falls heavily against yours, his body still trembling faintly.

“It really is okay, though, baby,” you say, stroking his damp hair with one hand while your other rubs little circles over his back. “My mom and Sang-cheol are very sex positive.”

Jungkook’s body stiffens in your hold. “Angel, noo.”

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, shrugging innocently. “What? They are.”

His face burns even redder as he rubs his nose into your neck. “It’s gonna be so awkward tomorrow,” he mumbles.

You snicker, drumming his bare bum with your feet. “It’s fine, baby. I didn’t pack any golf attire by the way, so we’ll needa go to the mall in the morning. You can help me pick out a slutty little sport skirt.”

His head lifts just slightly and you swear his ears perk up like a bunny. “Okay,” he says softly, cheeks still pink. “I’d like that.”

You giggle, the sound muffled as you press a kiss to his warm cheek. “God, you’re so cute, baby.”

His lips quirk into a shy grin, his doe eyes blinking down at you. “I love you,” he whispers. “This has been the best Christmas of my life.”

Your chest tightens, and your brows furrow as you whine softly at his sweetness. “I love you too, my sweetheart,” you murmur, cupping his face in your hands to press another kiss to his pout. “So much.”

His smile is soft, glowing, as he nestles back into your neck. His bare chest is warm against you, the two of you sinking into a quiet, content stillness. Your fingers brush through the damp hair at the base of his neck, his breathing evening out as your heartbeats sync.

“Angel?” His voice breaks the silence.

“Yes, my love?” you hum sleepily.

“I-I’m hard again.”

merry 23rd my darlings !! i hope you’re all having the best holidays so far, and thank u so much for all the overwhelming love and support on this silly willy journey of ours 💋 i’m sure you’ve already checked out december, but if you haven’t yet, PLEASEEE do — i swear to fuck u won’t regret it. the biggest thank u again from lovie and me, we appreciate you all endlessly 🩷🩷 see you on the 25th!! mwwwah -lyssa <3

[kirammanswifey]

arcane characters proposing x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: it was so satisfying to have written this after so much dramaaaa. i really liked this dynamic and i'll exploit it with so much more scenarios so be prepared for a lot of fluff, btw my favorite proposal was jayce's, he was all cute and clumsy. as you already know request are open ;)

wedding link:

Viktor

The silence in the lab is heavy, interrupted only by the soft hum of the machines he has designed himself. You’re beside him, watching how his fingers move with skill, adjusting a piece of the contraption he holds in his hands. The dim light from the lamps reflects on his face, casting shadows that highlight the features of his face, always so serious, so focused. But in his eyes, there’s something different today. Something... softer, deeper.

You’re used to seeing him in his colder, distant side, but something has changed. There’s a strange calmness in his presence. When he looks up and meets your gaze, his lips curl slightly, a small but meaningful smile.

"Science is my life," he says in his deep, measured tone, as if evaluating each word before speaking. "And it always has been. But some time ago, something changed. Something that... has nothing to do with experiments or formulas. Something I can’t measure or control."

He looks at you with an intensity that feels almost uncomfortable, as if he were exposed, vulnerable, on ground where he doesn’t have all the answers. His voice, though firm, carries a vulnerability he rarely shows.

"You’ve given me more than I thought I needed," he continues, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’s not just what you’ve done for me in the lab. It’s... what you’ve done for me as a person. You’ve been my anchor, my reason to keep going when everything seemed lost. In a world that doesn’t have clear answers, you’re the only certainty I have."

The distance between the two of you seems to shorten. Viktor takes a step toward you, although his movements are slow, as if each one carries meaning. He stops beside you, almost as if it were a gesture of trust, of allowing himself to be vulnerable in your presence. He closes his eyes for a moment, as if preparing to say something that has taken him a long time to decide.

"What I’m about to say... doesn’t have any exact formula. No calculation that validates it," he says, and you can see his hands tremble slightly. "But I know that, with everything I’ve done, with everything I still want to do, I would never feel complete without you."

His voice is soft now, much quieter, as if what he’s about to say is a secret, one he’s revealing only to you.

"I’ve seen you beyond the brilliant mind, beyond the scientist who always challenges me. I’ve seen you as someone who, no matter how many times I shut myself off from the world, continues to be by my side, expecting nothing more than... to be with me."

He takes something from his pocket. A small metal case. He opens the lid carefully, revealing a simple ring, but with an elegance that only he could have imagined and created. The Hextech light reflects off the blue stone, casting glimmers that make your breath catch for a moment.

"My life wouldn’t be the same without you. And if there’s one thing in this world I don’t want to lose, it’s the opportunity to have you by my side forever."

Viktor looks at you deeply, waiting, more vulnerable than he’s ever been. And finally, after all the science, all the advancements, all the sacrifices... he asks you with a sincerity that cuts through the air:

"Will you marry me?"

The silence that follows is absolute. You stay motionless, unable to articulate a word. The weight of his declaration, of his vulnerability, pierces you, but instead of an immediate response, you dive into the intensity of his eyes, looking for something, any sign, any confirmation that this isn’t a dream. Viktor begins to worry, and the discomfort is reflected on his face.

"It’s a shame... I can’t do it the conventional way, kneeling..." he murmurs, his voice trembling. "But... I guess..."

You can’t let him finish the sentence. The anxiety in his eyes, the insecurity in his posture, prevents you from doing so. You move quickly, placing your lips on his with a soft kiss, but one filled with everything you can’t put into words. The world seems to fade away, and all that remains is him, the beating of your heart, and that silent connection between you two.

When you finally pull away, his gaze is still fixed on you, expectant, anxious. With a tenderness that comes from deep within, you take his face in your hands, your fingers caressing his skin as if it were the most precious thing in the world. And it was. He was the most precious thing in your world.

You look deeply into his eyes, every word that leaves your mouth filled with love, promises, and everything you haven’t said until now.

"Yes, Viktor... yes, yes, yes. Always yes."

The air between you both is filled with a new energy, one that needs no more words, because the simple fact of being together is enough.

Jinx

The night has fallen, but it’s not a peaceful one. The air is charged with electricity, as if the whole world is waiting for something, and you, trapped in the whirlwind of the city, can’t help but feel that something is about to explode. Literally.

You walk through the dark alleys of the Undercity, the neon lights flickering around you, when suddenly, a familiar laugh makes you turn. Jinx appears, her electric blue hair waving in the wind and a spark of madness in her eyes. She’s holding a large, seemingly heavy box in her hands, grinning mischievously.

“Surprise!” she says, her voice overflowing with excitement. “I’ve got something incredible to show you. It’s bigger than anything you’ve ever seen!”

Before you can say anything, she grabs your hand and drags you toward an open space, where a small platform is set up, filled with wires and explosives. The sense of danger is in the air, but it’s impossible not to feel the adrenaline she radiates. You know that with Jinx, you can’t expect anything conventional, but that’s what makes her so unpredictable. So... perfect.

“What are you doing?” you ask, although you can already imagine the kind of madness she has in mind.

“Doing what I’ve always wanted to do! A celebration of love that no one will ever forget!” she replies, her smile so wide it almost lights up the city’s darkness.

Jinx runs toward an improvised control panel and presses a button with exaggerated theatricality, as if it were a grand revelation. Suddenly, the sky lights up. A flash of colors bursts above you, as if the very chaos inside her wanted to spill over into the universe. Fireworks. A visual spectacle so dazzling that it takes your breath away. It’s as if the whole city is alive, as if life and death themselves were dancing in the sky.

While the explosions of colors fill the air, Jinx approaches you, her eyes sparkling as if she had immersed herself in her own world of madness and love. She’s not one to beat around the bush or speak sweetly, so when she takes your face in her hands, her fingers cold but full of energy, you know what she’s about to say is as unexpected as everything she does.

“Listen,” she says, looking at the colorful stars exploding above them. “What I love most about this world is the chaos. Things don’t have to be perfect or make sense! But... there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of.”

Your heart beats faster, but you can’t help but smile at her wild declaration.

“I want you to be my chaos,” she continues, her voice full of determination. “I want you to join me in this journey of madness, to hold on to me when I explode, to keep laughing when the world falls apart, to follow me... because you and I are invincible!”

With a nearly mischievous grin, Jinx pulls something from her jacket: a ring. It’s quirky, like everything in her life, with visible gears and sparkling stones, some even crackling slightly, as if they’re about to explode.

“What I mean is... will you marry me? Tell me yes before I run out of fireworks!”

Jinx’s laughter is a little overwhelming, an echo of her own unpredictable essence. But despite all her chaos, there’s something so sincere in her eyes, something that makes you feel that, even though the world may be on the edge of destruction, this moment, this chaos, is the only thing that truly matters.

You stand there, speechless for a moment, overwhelmed by the light bombardment and the madness of the proposal, but when you see how she looks at you, waiting, you realize you have no doubts. Jinx has made it clear in her own language: love is a dangerous game, but you want to play it by her side.

With a brilliant smile, you approach her, and between the lights, amid the roar, you whisper:

“Yes, Jinx. Yes, to this chaos. Yes, always.”

Vi

You’re lying on the couch, comfortable and relaxed, with your head resting on Vi’s legs. The soft sound of the city that never sleeps drifts in from the window, but inside the house, the silence feels cozy. Vi is sitting, her muscles tense but calm, with a thoughtful expression as she plays with your hair, something that always soothes you.

The warmth of her presence surrounds you, and for a moment, everything seems perfect. But something in the air changes. Vi’s relaxed demeanor begins to feel different, as if she’s holding something back. You realize that, for the first time, she’s not being the confident Vi, the one who always has everything under control.

“Are you okay?” you ask, lifting your head from her legs to look at her directly. Vi doesn’t answer right away, and her fingers stop moving through your hair. There’s uncertainty in her eyes, something you haven’t seen before.

She shifts, crosses her legs, but doesn’t seem as comfortable as usual. “You know... I’m not really good with these things,” she says, her voice softer than usual. “I’m always the one who throws punches and solves everything my way, but now...” Her gaze drops to the floor for a moment, avoiding eye contact.

You look at her, sensing that something important is about to come out of her mouth. On her face, that nervous grimace is a clear sign that she’s struggling with herself. Something’s going on, but she doesn’t know how to express it.

“What I mean is... I’ve never been good with words,” Vi continues, letting out a nervous laugh. “And I’m not one for grand gestures or fancy things. I’m not someone who can give you the best, like... you know, expensive jewelry or fancy places. But there’s something I know I want.”

Vi takes something from her pocket, and when you see it, a small ring appears between her fingers. It’s not shiny or flashy. It’s simple, made of metal with a rustic design, almost as if she made it herself. A small symbol of her effort and her love.

“This... isn’t much,” she says, looking at the ring with a slight embarrassment. “I got it with what I could save. It’s not perfect, but... I want it to be a symbol of who I am for you. Of everything we’ve been through together. And... I want us to be together. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if I’m not the best at this. Because, despite everything, I love you more than I can put into words.”

Vi looks at the ring like it’s a simple object, but in her eyes, you can see how much it means to her. Her insecurity is palpable, as if she’s waiting for the ring to not be enough. But you know that’s not what matters. You know it’s all she has to offer you, and that’s what makes this moment even more special.

You see her nervous, waiting for a response, and you can’t help but smile. You get up and stand in front of her, gently touching her hands, and when you look at her, the insecurity on her face melts away, though her voice is still a fearful whisper.

“Vi,” you say, with a sincere smile. “I don’t care about the ring, I don’t care about what you couldn’t give me. What matters is that you’ve shown me more love than I ever imagined. Yes, I want to marry you. Yes, I always want to be with you, by your side.”

Vi looks at you as if she can’t believe what she just heard. Her face lights up with a pure expression of relief and happiness. Even though the words aren’t perfect, everything this moment means is in her eyes. She lets out a nervous laugh and, without thinking, pulls you into a tight hug.

“I knew you’d say yes,” she whispers, but her voice is full of emotion. And you, amid the laughter and the embrace, know that despite everything that has happened, this moment couldn’t be more perfect.

Caitlyn

Night has fallen over Piltover, and the city lights shine with a golden glow, reflecting the majesty of the buildings and the life that has always characterized this city. Caitlyn has invited you to dinner at one of the most exclusive restaurants in town, an elegant place, tastefully decorated, where the panoramic view takes your breath away. The atmosphere is calm, yet filled with a sophisticated air. The murmurs of other diners do not interrupt the softness of the background music.

Caitlyn looks impeccable, as always, in her elegant dress that accentuates her delicate but strong features. The soft candlelight flickers on her face, highlighting the concentration in her eyes. From the moment you entered the restaurant, you could sense something in the air, but she is determined to maintain composure, even though her hands occasionally move restlessly over the table.

The dinner goes on as usual, with Caitlyn talking about her latest research advancements, her projects, and concerns about the future of Piltover. But even though the topic is important and her voice is firm, you can't help but notice the tension inside her. She drinks a bit more wine than she normally would, and from time to time, her fingers play with the glass as if she is seeking comfort.

"I've been waiting for this," she says suddenly, her eyes fixed on you, although her tone betrays her nervousness. "I don't know if I'm good at this, but I think... well, I need to be honest. I don't like hiding things, and this is important."

Your eyes meet hers, noticing how a slight blush begins to appear on her cheeks. Caitlyn, the woman who always has a logical answer for everything, now looks completely vulnerable. But it's not her nervousness that makes you smile; it's the way she looks at you, as if this moment is more important than any project or achievement.

Caitlyn sighs deeply and finally gets up from her chair, giving you a little spin around the table. You don't know if it's to calm herself or because she needs to distract her thoughts, but she approaches slowly, as if each step is a challenge. Her hands tremble slightly as she places them on the table, and you realize that something very important is about to happen.

"I know this isn't something I planned in the traditional way," she says, her voice soft but firm, "but... this is how I feel. And I want you to know." She lifts her hand, showing you a small ring, whose shine is subtle but radiant. It is a delicate ring, with a simple yet elegant design, of impeccable quality. And when you see it, you realize it's not just any jewel.

It's the ring her mother wore at her wedding, the same one Caitlyn had seen so many times, the one she had touched with so much love when she was a child. A symbol of tradition, of enduring love. A symbol of family.

"This is my mother's ring," Caitlyn says, almost whispering. "I know it's not a modern ring, nor expensive compared to what I could buy, but... it holds a very special meaning. For me, it means everything I want to offer you. My family, my love, my commitment. My promise that I'll always be by your side."

She looks at you, her eyes shining with emotion, as if it were the first time she showed something so intimate, so hers. There are no doubts in her gaze, only a deep certainty of what she's saying, but her voice remains soft, sincere.

"I love you," she says, with a clarity that reaches straight to your heart. "And I want you to be my partner in all of this, not just in the good moments, but in the difficult ones. Because, for me, there is no one else I want to be with. Only you."

Caitlyn places the ring in front of you, and for a moment, all the bustle of the restaurant disappears. Only the soft sound of her breath and the beating of your heart remain. You know what you have to do, but this moment feels so perfect, so genuine, that the words seem stuck in your throat. All you want to do is take her hand, look her in the eyes, and say yes.

Finally, your words come out with a wide smile. "Yes, Cait. Yes, I want to spend my life with you."

Caitlyn's eyes light up with a happiness that makes you feel as if everything is in its place, as if nothing else matters about what may come in the future. This moment, this commitment, is everything you both needed.

Caitlyn hugs you tightly, and the ring shines on your finger, a symbol of a pure and deep love, born from honesty, vulnerability, and sincerity from a woman who, despite her external perfection, has always been real with you.

Jayce

The day had been long and full of work, but Jayce, with his determined spirit, decided to surprise you. Instead of taking you to a fancy restaurant or preparing something sophisticated, he had a much bolder idea—a homemade dinner. That made you smile immediately, knowing that Jayce wasn’t exactly an expert chef. But you didn’t care; the idea of sharing something so personal with him excited you more than any gourmet dinner.

When you entered the kitchen, you found him with an expression of total concentration, mixing ingredients in a way that left much to be desired, but you found it charming. He had made pasta, something simple, but it had surely cost him more effort than he wanted to admit.

"Surprise!" he said as he saw you approach. Although the dish wasn’t a culinary masterpiece, you sat with him, and despite the imperfections, you enjoyed every bite. The smile on his face as he watched you eat was enough to make everything seem perfect. And when, after a while of talking and laughing, you got up to go to the bathroom, he took the opportunity to open a special bottle of wine.

When you returned, the glass was ready, and seeing the wine in it and the label on the bottle, your eyes lit up with excitement. It was your favorite wine! You couldn’t stop smiling as you smelled it and took a small sip.

But then, suddenly, something wasn’t right. A strange piece caught in your throat made you cough hard. The wine spilled from your mouth as you tried to catch your breath, and in the midst of coughing, a strange sensation made you feel as if something was stuck there. In an instant, Jayce was by your side, looking at you with panic.

"What happened?! Are you okay?!"

With a quick maneuver, almost instinctively, Jayce patted your back and, with a racing heart, helped you spit out what was stuck in your throat. To both of your surprise, what came out was not just a piece of food, but a small ring now resting in your hand.

Jayce was in shock, looking at the ring and then at you, completely red with embarrassment. "Oh no! That wasn’t part of the plan! How did that get there? Everything has gone wrong... I’m sorry, I never imagined this would happen."

You laughed, almost hysterically, as you cleaned the ring with a napkin and held it in your palm. Despite the comical situation, Jayce was clearly frustrated. He wanted everything to be perfect, but you didn’t care. It was clear that all that mattered was that he was there, in front of you, despite the fiasco.

"Are you going to ask me or not?" you asked, the smile on your lips growing as you watched his face change from despair to disbelief.

Jayce looked at you, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He was nervous, completely out of place. "Really? Now…?" he asked, with a nervous laugh. But it didn’t take long for him to do what he had to do. With a shy but genuine smile, he knelt before you, somewhat clumsy but sincere, and with a nervous laugh, he said:

"Well… since it seems I can’t do anything right today, maybe this will be the one thing that goes well. Will you marry me?"

The scene, as clumsy as it was funny, made you laugh even more, but in the end, all that mattered was that he was there, in his own way, loving you. The ring, somewhat imperfect in all its disorder, represented more love than anyone could ask for. Without thinking any further, you took his face in your hands and kissed him tenderly, answering in the simplest yet most profound way possible:

"Yes, Jayce. I do."

Ekko

The Undercity held its own kind of magic. The faint lights of the streetlamps flickered through the mist, and the distant sounds of the markets blended with the steady flow of water running through the pipes. You were sitting on an improvised bench in a hidden corner, surrounded by the crumbling walls, but to you, this place felt like the very heart of the world. Ekko had made it a refuge for the two of you, a space where you could escape from the chaos and, for a moment, forget about everything else except the present.

There was something special about that night. The way Ekko looked at you, the spark in his eyes... it wasn’t like the times before. There was something deeper now, a sense of resolution, as if he was on the verge of making a decision that would change everything. And he did.

"You know," Ekko began, his voice more serious than usual, "I've been thinking a lot about things lately. About how everything we've lived through... everything we've overcome... has changed us." His words carried a weight they usually didn’t.

The conversation didn't seem to be heading towards a cheerful topic, but there was something in the air that told you what was coming was important. You leaned in a little closer, sensing that the atmosphere was charged with something.

He pulled a small device from his pocket, something that looked like an old piece of machinery, but upon closer inspection, you realized it was no ordinary gadget. It was a pocket watch, but not the kind you'd find in a store. This one was modified, a timepiece that seemed designed not only to measure time but also to control something else... something intangible, like destiny. It was something Ekko had built over the years, a reflection of his constant efforts to understand the flow of time.

"This watch," he said with a faint smile on his lips, "is a reminder. A reminder that even when things seem out of control, we can always find a way to move forward. Like us, always moving forward, no matter what comes our way."

He looked at you with a seriousness you’d never seen from him before, and for a moment, he fell silent, as if searching for the right words.

"And… what I’m trying to say is that, even though we don’t have control over time, even though we can’t stop what’s coming, I want you to keep walking by my side. Every second, every minute, every step."

Despite his usual relaxed demeanor, in that moment he seemed more vulnerable than ever. The watch he showed you wasn’t just a machine; it was a symbol of what he had been searching for his whole life: a way to stop time, so that the most important moments wouldn’t slip away.

"So, if at any point you feel the same way," he added, gently taking your hand, "I’d like this... what we’re living... to never end. That we can keep making memories together. I don’t know if there’s a right way to ask, but... would you like to be with me, always?"

He looked at you with a vulnerability you’d never seen before, almost as if afraid you might say something that would break the magic of the moment.

You couldn’t help but smile, at first as if you were in shock, speechless. This Ekko, the one who always had a plan, the one who had faced a thousand battles, was now asking you to be by his side forever, with a sincerity he rarely showed. It wasn’t a grand traditional gesture, but to you, it was even more meaningful.

You were silent for a few seconds, and that made Ekko feel even more unsure, his gaze beginning to fade as if he thought you had already decided not to answer. But before he could pull away or say anything more, you caught him, quickly closing the distance between you.

"Yes," you whispered, but it was a resounding yes. "Yes, Ekko, I want to be with you. Always. I don’t need a watch or a perfect plan. I just need you."

You held his hand more firmly, looking into his eyes, and his lips formed a slight smile, though his face still carried a trace of nervousness.

"Together, forever, babe," he said, pulling you close and resting your back against his chest. You smiled happily as his arms wrapped around you.

You took the watch and kissed it, feeling the cold scent of rusted metal.

"Forever," you replied, and that word felt like the beginning of something eternal.

Silco

It was another night when the soft light of candles flickered, casting shadows in the corners of the room. The atmosphere in Silco's office was charged with tension, as always, but tonight something felt different. The usual coldness of the room had transformed into something warmer. On the walls, shadows danced to the rhythm of the flames, and the scattered papers on his desk seemed to tell stories of past struggles and uncertain victories.

However, Silco wasn’t at his desk. He stood in the center of the room, silently watching you as you leaned against the door, returning his gaze. His presence was magnetic, as always, but there was something different about him tonight. Something more vulnerable in his stance, as if he had been waiting for you—or rather, waiting for you to understand what lay beneath those deep eyes.

“This is a different kind of night,” Silco spoke, his voice grave, deliberate, as if weighing each word. He motioned for you to come closer, but not to him—toward the far side of the room. A table, delicately designed, rested just beneath a window overlooking the chaotic landscape of the Undercity.

As you approached, you noticed several boxes on the table, some open, some closed. One wooden box caught your eye. Silco’s gaze hardened on it, almost as if he feared what might happen when it was opened, or perhaps what it represented. He moved toward it slowly, like someone executing a carefully planned act, and gently opened the box.

Inside lay a ring. It wasn’t the kind of ring you’d expect from someone like Silco—no extravagant jewels, no grand display of wealth. Yet, there was something profound about it. The fine, dark metalwork and the stone that caught the light in a way you couldn’t ignore seemed to tell a story. It was as if the ring itself embodied both the harshness of his life and the softness of feelings he had long kept hidden.

“This is the kind of thing I never cared for,” he said, his tone mixing toughness with an unexpected sincerity. “A symbol without meaning. But since you arrived, I’ve learned that there are things worth more than logic.”

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Silco showed a hint of insecurity. His gaze clouded for a moment, as if he feared your reaction. But instead of saying more, he stepped closer, the ring in his hand, and slowly sank to his knee before you.

“I’ve sacrificed so much, maybe that’s why I never let myself desire more. But now I know. I know because I want you. And because I don’t want to do this alone.”

There was no grand gesture, no theatrics, but the weight of sincerity in his simple act stunned you. He looked up at you, his eyes full of vulnerability, asking for something more than anyone had ever dared to ask before.

“Will you marry me?”

The silence in the room was thick, filled with everything Silco couldn’t say but what his proposal meant. It wasn’t a casual request—it was a serious commitment, as serious as everything he’d fought for in his life.

For a moment, you stood still, heart racing—not because of the surprise, but because of the sheer intensity of his words and the unexpected gesture. You had seen the calculating side of Silco, the way he controlled every aspect of his life, every decision with precision. But this—this was something entirely different. It was the purest form of vulnerability, someone willing to give it all up for love, to risk everything they’d built for someone who meant more than any achievement.

Finally, you took a deep breath and, with a soft smile, nodded. “Yes,” you said, your voice steady but full of emotion. “There is nothing I want more in this world than to be your wife.”

The air shifted instantly. Silco stood slowly, and his normally implacable face softened. It was as if he had laid down an immense weight, as if the future finally had a clear purpose.

Without another word, he pulled you into his arms. In that moment, the shadows in the room seemed lighter, less oppressive. With the promise of a future together, everything that had once seemed distant, unreachable, now felt within both your grasps.

Mel

It was a quiet night, one of those where the sounds of the city reached you muffled, as if time was willing to grant you a break. Mel's living room, as always, was a perfect display of elegance and order, but something about the atmosphere that night felt different, warmer, more intimate. The soft light from the lamps illuminated the carefully arranged furniture, and there was a rare calm in the air, something that only happened when the worries of the outside world seemed to vanish for a moment.

Mel had invited you to her house that night, but not for dinner or a formal event. Instead, she had wanted to show you something more, something personal. And seeing the invitation in her eyes, you knew this moment was special.

When you entered, the house had a more relaxed vibe than usual. The fireplace flickered softly in the background, and the air was filled with the delicate scent of incense. However, what truly caught your attention was what was in the center of the room. A large painting, a framed portrait, was leaning against the wall, carefully placed under a soft light.

"I want you to see this," Mel said with a slight smile, her usually firm voice now tinged with an unexpected sweetness. She approached you, guiding you toward the painting. Though her face didn’t give it away, there was a slight tension in her movements, as if she was waiting for your reaction.

You stepped closer to the portrait, and your breath caught as you saw the image in front of you. It was a portrait of you, painted with a level of detail that only someone like Mel could have achieved. Every line, every shadow seemed to capture something beyond your appearance: a reflection of your being, how she saw you. It wasn’t just a painting; it was an expression of how Mel perceived you, something that had been rendered with such dedication that the work itself seemed to come alive.

"It’s… incredible," you murmured, unable to articulate a more complete response. Mel watched your reaction, her eyes fixed on you, but without saying a word. You knew that, for her, this work meant far more than just a portrait. It was a piece of her soul, an extension of her deepest feelings.

"I did it because… because I wanted to capture something that could never be expressed just with words," Mel said, her tone calm but loaded with meaning. "It’s hard for me to share something so… personal, but with you, I feel like it makes sense."

You turned toward her, surprised by the vulnerability she was showing, so rare in the woman who had always kept everything under control. But there was something in her gaze, something in her posture, that made you see what she truly felt.

Mel took a step toward you, her gaze softening even further. "You are… the only person who has truly shown me what it means to let someone in so deeply. I’ve spent my whole life building walls, creating an image of control, but you… you’ve shown me something I didn’t even know I needed."

There was a softness in her words that you had never heard before. You knew her as a strong, calculating woman, always impeccable. But there, in that moment, in front of you, there was something more, something that only you had been able to awaken in her.

"And now I want you to… be part of my life. I want you not only to be part of this portrait, but of everything I’ve built. I’ve had all the power in the world, all the control I could wish for, but that doesn’t make sense without someone like you by my side."

Mel paused, almost as if she were fighting against herself, and then, with a smooth movement, extended her hand toward you. In her palm rested a small box, which she carefully opened, revealing a simple but elegant ring. It was beautiful but not ostentatious, with a unique beauty, a design that spoke of her personality: refined, but with a subtle touch of surprise. The golden ring glimmered softly under the candlelight, like a reflection of the same gentleness Mel had shown in her words.

"I want you to be my partner," Mel said, her voice a barely audible whisper, but filled with meaning. "Will you marry me?"

The moment was marked by a tense silence, loaded with emotion. Mel wasn’t seeking a grand declaration or an ostentatious proposal. She only wanted to share her life with you, in the way she knew how to do it: with a sincerity that only she could offer.

Without thinking, you stepped closer to her, took her face in your hands, and without saying another word, kissed her softly. The kiss wasn’t just a response to her proposal, but an affirmation of everything you shared, of everything that moment meant.

When you pulled away, her eyes were filled with something you had never seen before: vulnerability, hope, love. You took her hand, and with a warm smile, you said what she had been waiting to hear, what you both knew was true.

"Yes, Mel. Yes. I’ve always wanted this, to share all of this with you."

Mel smiled, her face lit by a deep emotion she had never shown before. Without saying another word, she hugged you, and in that embrace was everything she couldn’t say with words. The future, her promises, her fears, her desires. It was all there, intertwined in an embrace as warm as the painting she had created just for you.

Sevika

It had been a long and dangerous night, more than either of us had anticipated. You had gotten yourself into a mess, bigger than anyone else would have dared to handle, but there you were, beside Sevika, helping her get out of danger. There were a few of Silco's enemies, but with her strength and your ingenuity, you managed to make it all end in the blink of an eye. The tension eased, and calm washed over everything like a wave.

The air was charged with adrenaline, but also with a strange serenity when the two of you were finally away from danger. Sevika, with her impassive face and intense eyes, looked at you with a mix of gratitude and something more. You couldn’t say it was love at first sight or anything so romantic, but there was something about that moment that felt different, something raw, something real.

You stayed looking at her while both of you took a breath, your bodies still trembling slightly from the tension. She was so close you could feel her breath, as heavy and rhythmic as your own. Without warning, her eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, the outside world disappeared. There were no more enemies, no more worries, just the two of you.

Sevika didn’t speak at first. The full moon illuminated the corner where you were, but it was her silence that spoke volumes. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, her low voice cut through the air:

"Do you want to marry me?"

You stopped, surprised. Had she really said that? Or was it one of her usual jokes? It couldn’t have been more unexpected, could it? You laughed lightly, thinking it must have been a joke. But when you looked into her eyes, as serious as always, a knot formed in your stomach. Sevika wasn’t joking. Not this time.

"Just like that, out of the blue?" you asked, unable to suppress a smile of disbelief. It was as if all the chaos of the night hadn’t been enough to spill over into the unpredictability of her proposal.

She didn’t flinch, her lips curving into a slight smile, but her eyes stayed fixed on you, determined. "And why not? The best things come out of nowhere, don’t they?" she said with a tone that left no room for doubt. Her voice was strong, direct, but there was a softness hidden beneath her arrogance. Sevika had never been one for too many words, but the few she spoke always carried weight. As if nothing in her was accidental, and every decision she made was calculated down to the last detail.

She looked at you for a moment, evaluating you with the same intensity she always did, then added, "So, do you want to be my little, spoiled wife? I promise to put up with your snoring and you kicking me out of bed for all eternity." She joked, a low laugh escaping her chest, and you were a little surprised by the lightness in her tone, as if, in the seriousness of the situation, Sevika also needed to soften the moment in her own way.

Your reaction was automatic, more because of the teasing tone than the content of what she said. "Hey! I don’t snore that much!" you exclaimed, pretending to be offended, but the truth was, you couldn’t really be angry. You couldn’t be upset, because there was something about her that drew you in in a very unique way.

So, you decided to raise your right hand and move your ring finger. "No ring, no wedding," you warned, then flicked your hair in the air. "I’m not a girl who settles for little, and you know that."

Sevika approached you, never losing her smile. "Believe me, sweetheart, I’ll buy you the biggest, most expensive ring in the world. Tell me how many carats you want, and I’ll get it exactly how you ask for it." Her promise was full of a confidence only she could have. Every word sounded so convincing, so solid, that there was no room for doubt. Sevika never made empty promises, and this was no exception.

Her voice was deep, playful, as if she was willing to fulfill anything asked of her. You smiled, pleased, but something in her attitude sparked a mischievous glint in your eyes. Instead of continuing the joke, you went straight to the point and leaned close to her ear, whispering with a touch of playful innuendo:

"Since the best things come out of nowhere, why don’t we fast forward to the honeymoon?"

Your whisper was soft, but with an undertone of suggestion that didn’t go unnoticed. Sevika blinked a couple of times, clearly surprised by your response. But instead of being bothered, something on her face shifted, and a sideways smile appeared on her lips, as if you had pulled the idea right out of her head.

"I like that," she said, her tone now low and filled with palpable desire. "I love that you don’t beat around the bush." Her voice was hushed, heavy with desire, accentuated by how close she was to you. "Let’s make this night something much more... memorable."

Suddenly, the environment around you both ceased to exist. Only her eyes, the heat of her body near yours, and the certainty that, despite everything, something had begun in an unexpected way remained. The best things come out of nowhere, and tonight, Sevika had shown you that her way of loving, though fierce and daring, was also the most sincere you had ever known.

[kisses4themissus]

Obsessive Lover || Hwang In-ho X reader

wc: 2.4k request: an obsessive!reader who joins the games for in-ho but turns her gaze to player 456. a/n: this is actually my fav concept I've written so far!!

masterlist ¦ pt 2

“Ms y/l/n, you can’t keep chasing after an unknown man.” The therapist sighed as he sat down across from you at the table. You sighed as you swirled around your water.

“He’s not unknown. I’m being honest he knows of me, i can feel it!” You giggled at the therapist. He sighed before writing something down on his small notepad be had beside him. You watched as he jolted something down and quickly flipped it over so you couldn’t be able to read it.

“Moving on, you haven’t made progress in six sessions ms y/l/n.” The therapist placed his hand on your thigh, you flickered it off before standing up and walking to the door.

“What progress? You mean you trying to get me to sleep with you?!” You chuckled at his shocked expression; majority of his clients had been woman. You weren’t there for his sympathetic therapy but rather he was quickest way to gain debt.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You groaned as you sat on a bench, waiting for the next train. You dug through your bag before pulling out your phone; zooming in on the map to a familiar memorial site. 

“May I sit here miss?”

You nodded, not looking up from your phone’s map. “Lost?” The same man questioned. Putting down your phone you glanced at the man with an upset look. He had his hair combed back, his briefcase place between the two of you. 

You blinked at the man before grinning at him. “Let me guess, you want to play a game?” You batted your lashes at the man, he chuckled in response. “I was told that you happen to be looking for a certain someone..” He motioned towards your phone.

You nodded, turning it off before scooting closer to the man. “Possibly, do you know how to get me there?” 

He nodded and opened his suit jacket and handed you a card. “Just call the number.” He winked before getting on the next train. You watched as he left before flipping the card over to see the number. You grinned before stashing it in your phone case. 

- - - - - - - - - - -

Weeks had passed since your encounter with the recruiter. You had entered the games and were picked up on halloween.

Classical music filled your ears as you woke up from your deep sleep. Looking around you watched with curious eyes as other players got up from their bed and made their way to the middle of the room. You quickly got up and looked around the room.

Your gaze stopped at player 456, he stood at the end of his bunk, his eyes lowered as he watched everyone. “Upset?” You questions, he glanced at you before sighing. “These people don’t know what they’ve signed up to do.” 

You tilted your head at his words. “You know something don’t you?” You questioned.

He looked at you before motioning to the wall behind his bunk, you followed his gaze to see a camera above you both, you smiled and waved, player 456 glared at the camera before tugging you away.

“These games aren’t what you’re expecting.” He spoke sternly, you felt your face heat up at the short distance between you both. “Are you going to protect me then?” You smirked at the older man. He stared at you for a moment before distancing himself from you. “I’ll try to keep you alive if you listen to me.” 

You nodded at his words. The big metal doors in the middle of the room opened to reveal pink guards, the square guard walked up to the front of the room, catching eyes of the players.

Player 456 walked further down the steps of the bunks, you quickly skipped after him. You both listened as the square explained everything, a big piggy bank had lowered down from the ceiling. “Don’t be tempted, it’s all blood money you’d be spending.” Player 456 whispered to you, earning a nod. “I’m not after money here.” You grinned at the man, who shook his head and turned his attention back to the pink manager. 

- - - - - - - - - - -

After you had signed a wavier, you had been told a game would soon begin. You had stuck beside player 456 and even his friend who he had met on the stairs. You had gotten 456’s name due to his friend yelling it out on the steps.

The bright sun filled your sight as you three stepped outside, you eyed the giant statute of a doll on the opposite side of the field. “What’s that thing?” You questioned out loud, player 390 gasped as gi-hun popped out his dental implant. You turned back and stared at the dental implant before taking it from gi-hun’s froze hand.

You inspected the small implant and giggled as the inside had been missing a tracker. Gi-hun stared at the doll in horror as the voice spoke up over the speaker. “The first game will be red light, green light!” 

You quickly pocketed the dental implant with a sigh before turning back to gi-hun and his friend.

Gi-hun quickly pushed his way to the front, leaving you alone with his friend, jung-bae. You listened as the voice told the instructions over the speakers. Gi-hun yelled and got everyone’s attention.

You both listened as gi-hun yelled. “If you lose, you die!” Everyone around you laughed at him, you furrowed your brows at his words. “What is he even talking about?” Someone yelled out from behind you.

“Is he high?!” 

You glared at the woman beside you. With a scoff you shoved her away. “If they catch you moving they will shoot you from above!” He yelled ot, a bit frustrated no one took him serious. Whirling came from the doll as it turned around and raised it’s hand to touch the fake tree, five minutes popped up on the board behind the doll.

Gi-hun turned back to the crowd. “Whatever happens don’t panic and just keep running.” He yelled out.

The doll began to speak. “The hibiscus flower has bloomed.”

You quickly listen to gi-hun’s words and ran. As the doll turned back you were right by gi-hun. His eyes ran over the crowd of frozen players. “FREEZE!” He yelled out.

You watched as the doll turn around. The eyes moving in different directions, once confirmed no one had moved it turned back once more. You had made it halfway across the field before tripping right before the doll turned around. You laid on the dirt, frozen. Once in the clear you scrambled to get up but stopped as another player, 196 stepped on your hand. You scoffed as you glanced up at her. 

“You bitch!” You cursed as she stopped on your hand. “Oops!” She grinned down at you.

You froze once more as the doll turned back to you all. You held back groans as she purposefully moved her weight to her heels, adding pressure to your hand.

Once in the clear, you had been able to get up, a familiar build had stepped in front of you. Gi-hun helped you up before stopping as the doll turned. 

From the corner of your eye you had seen the player that stepped on your hand move as a bee landed on her neck. She stopped and laughed, “Crap, I moved!” As she laughed, she was shot in her forehead.

“Don’t panic, stay calm!” Gi-hun yelled as he heard the gunshot. “Player 196 has been eliminated!” The announcement rang out on the speakers. You tensed up as gunshots began to ring from behind you as other players screamed and scrambled.

Once stopped the rules repeated over the speakers, before a list of players who had died. Gi-hun quickly ran to the front and began to direct everyone.

In-ho watched quietly in his living quarters as he watched gi-hun help player live. He quickly poured whiskey into his glass and reclined a bit in his chair as he watched players begin to form lines.

As it had gotten to the end. In-ho furrowed his brow as he watched gi-hun and another player both fall to the ground before the doll turned. He watched confused as gi-hun’s back covered the other player.

You stared up at gi-hun who stared directly into your eyes. You smirked at the older man. “In front of everyone? Didn’t think you had it in you!” You giggled at his fluster reaction. “When that doll turns we ned to get up and across the finish line!” He commanded, making you nod.

Once the doll had turned you both had sprung onto your feet and ran to the finish line, barely making it in time as the timer hit zero.

You panted with a grin on your face, suddenly the roof had began to close above you all.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Once back in the dorm everyone had been silent. You sat on the bed steps by gi-hun. “Thank you for saving me!” You smiled at the man, who nodded. “Thank you for listening to me.” He thanked you before moving his gaze to his blood splattered cover shoes. With a sigh you sat down beside him, leaving little to no space.

“Gi-hun, how did you know about the doll’s eyes being able to shoot people down?” You questioned. He sighed as his attention was his hands. “It’s not the doll, there are soldiers that are hidden.” He avoided the main part of your question.

Jung-bae walked over to you both and stood in front of you two. “How did you know about that doll? Is it true you’ve been here before?” Jung-bae questioned. 

Before gi-hun could respond the big metal doors opened, out walked pink triangles and their square once more, as the manager spoke about voting you watched as they set up a machine.

You watched as the room darkened and the piggy bank filled with money. Gi-hun sighed and tugged on your wrist to catch your attention. “No matter how much there is in that piggy bank, you have to vote to leave!” He pleaded as you held his gaze.

You nodded as you stared into his brown eyes. As voting began you watched as players were divided. When you had finally gone up you winked as you passed gi-hun. You pressed down on the X and received a patch, you quickly attached it to your jacket before bouncing over to gi-hun’s side.

You both watched as the vote finally tied, you all watched as the final player walked to the machine. The machine made a sound, gi-hun looked defeated as the board read out 51. “Very well, majority have vote to keep the games going.” The square announced.

In-ho turned back to face the crowds, his eyes focusing on gi-hun. His gaze shifted as he watched a familiar stalker comfort the man, leading him to the bunks.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You sighed as you sat next to a frowning gi-hun. “You said you’ve been here before, correct?” You asked, holding onto his arm. “Three years ago..” He nodded.

“You have advantage, you know what games were played.” You grinned, he sighed rolling his shoulders back. You both had spent the time talking about his previous game and the games he had to play in. You were interrupted by the workers announcing dinner. You quickly popped up and lead him to the line to get your food.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You sighed as you waited to hand back your dishes to the staff. You grew bored of waiting, you turned around to check on gi-hun, a crowd of player had formed around him your gaze had stopped as you recognized one of the player number 001; the one who had stopped gi-hun’s wish of leaving the place with everyone alive. You scoffed at the players who surrounded the man, asking him questions of his previous game.

Once your dishes had been handed back. You marched over to the now empty space. You sat back down next to gi-hun, watching player 001 with careful eyes. 

“If we stick together, everything should work out just fine!” Jung-bae exclaimed, another player hopped off their bunk and joined the conversation. “He’s right sirs, oh and miss.” Player 388 nodded in agreement to jung-bae’s words.

“Who are you?” Jung-bae questioned.

“Oh i’m dae-ho, kang dae-ho! I’m a big fan of this guy since his awesome freeze earlier!” He grinned, holding his hand out for the men to shake.

You nodded as you watched the man in front of you. You sighed, slipping your hand into your pockets, a sharp poke made you jump for a moment before grinning at the memory of gi-hun’s implant in your pocket.

“I’d like the pleasure of getting to know you all!” 

You hadn’t noticed the stare of in-ho as you were busy fiddling with the implant in your palm. Jung-bae had gotten up from where he sat and walked over to the young man and rolled up his sleeve. 

“You were in the marines?” Jung-bae asked, standing back crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes sir.”

“Class number?” He questioned, puffing out his chest.

The younger man laughed at the question. You all watched with amusement as jung-bae unzipped his jacket to reveal his marine tattoo. Gi-hun sighed at his friend. You leaned over and laid your head on gi-hun’s shoulder. “Thank you for saving me again, i’ll protect you from now on in here!” You smiled at the older man who shook his head at you.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to do that.” Gi-hun cleared his throat, trying to push down the feeling of fluster you had given him.

In-ho watched with jealousy, he had known who you were; the stalker you had gained a fascination with him. Sending him letters to his old office, visiting his ex-wife’s grave, leaving her flowers. You had been admitted to a mental hospital for delusions. He was a bit excited when he had heard the news you had drowned yourself in debt to get his attention, he had sent the recruiter after you, hoping to see your obsession in person.

It was offensive that you had switched your toxic gaze to the “loser” winner; seong gi-hun. You had careless of his identity being in front of you but brushed him to the side as you cuddled into gi-hun’s side.

“You two seem close, it’s cute.” In-ho’s word dripped of sarcasm, you had picked up on it and glared at the player before turning to dae-ho and jung-bae. 

“You seem like an asshole...” You muttered under your breath.

pt 2

[mytherapyisreading14]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Spencer gets jealous when you work together with a police officer on your current case.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut, some Angst and Fluff (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, making out in public, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), multiple orgasms, creampie, dom!spencer (kinda)

Word Count: 6,5k

Author’s Note: I spent the whole week writing this one even though I should be studying for my final exam next week (not stressed enough to study yet oops) and don’t really like how it turned out even though I don’t know why. I rewrote it a couple of times but I think I’m just gonna leave it like that.

Spencer sits at his desk, his brow furrowed and his eyes fixed on the situation happening in front of him. It looks like a normal day at the office — the sounds of keys being typed, phones ringing, and the hum of the coffee machine. But at that moment, Spencer is oblivious to all of it. His gaze is fixed on the table next to the window, and he can’t take his eyes off the scene.

A police officer, a young, good-looking man named James, is having an animated conversation with you — his colleague, friend, and the woman he’s been in love with for years. The conversation seems relaxed and full of laughter, as if you two are sharing funny stories from your personal lives. You laugh again and again, a gleam in your eyes that he knows all too well.

But that’s not all. James reaches for the documents he wants to hand you, and as he does, his hand touches yours for a moment. The touch is fleeting, almost accidental, but Spencer feels an uncomfortable sensation spreading through him — jealousy. “She’s laughing... he’s making her laugh,” Spencer mutters grimly to himself, still staring at you.

"What's wrong?" he suddenly hears Luke’s voice, who sits down at his desk with a smile. Luke has been watching Spencer for a while without him noticing. Spencer tries to concentrate, wiping his hand over his mouth as if that would drive away the thoughts. But it doesn’t help.

"Nothing," he grumbles, not moving. “Oh yeah?" Luke asks, grinning crookedly. "You know, you look like you're about to explode with anger at any moment. Can't you see you're driving yourself crazy?" Spencer was about to get upset, but he decides to stay calm.

“I... I'm just concentrating on my work," Spencer mumbles, his gaze constantly drifting toward you. Luke grins, knowing exactly what’s going on. "If you really want her, you'll have to do more than just watch." Spencer blinks. "What?" he asks. “You have to show everyone that she's no longer available. Put a ring on her finger, and the officer won’t come near her anytime soon," he says to tease him.

Spencer feels his throat go dry. Ring? That is the point where he perks up. He is about to say something else when suddenly a new laugh from you reaches him. James just made a joke — and you are laughing again. Spencer can no longer just watch. Hearing you laugh at something he said feels like a punch to his stomach.

“That's enough!" he growls, standing up abruptly, anger boiling up inside him. Luke raises an eyebrow and watches him. "Are you all right, man?" Spencer walks over to you without further ado. You are sitting at the desk, James just left to get more files, and your eyes are fixed on the stack in front of you. Spencer steps in front of you with firm steps.

“Do you have a minute?" he asks, his voice much calmer than he feels, while he tries not to make the words sound too harsh. He tries not to let jealousy flash in his eyes. You look up and smile at him, completely unaware of what is going on inside him. "Sure, Spencer. What's up?" you ask. “We need to talk." The quiet jealousy inside him is like a cold, steady pressure.

It isn’t just the flirting between you and James. It’s the way he looks at you, the way you react to him — having a conversation with the only woman he really wants. Spencer takes a deep breath and keeps his gaze on yours. “In private,” he adds when you make no sign of standing up. You look at him, confused. “Uhm… okay,” you say, and follow him.

Spencer and you are now standing behind the closed door of the small office. The room suddenly seems much smaller than it usually does. The air is heavy, almost uncomfortable, and Spencer has already turned around, his gaze returning to you. “So, how far along are you with the files?" Spencer asks harshly, phrasing the question less out of interest and more like a challenge. The words come quickly, almost too quickly.

“We're halfway through," you answer calmly, as if you don’t even notice the tension. “Halfway through?" Spencer’s eyebrows furrow, the lines on his face stiffening. "Damn, we should be much further along! We barely have any time left, and you're spending all your time with him instead of focusing on work!" You blink in surprise. "What are you talking about? James? We're well organized and work together. What's going on now?" you ask, confused.

“Oh, come on,” Spencer continues, now visibly upset. “The guy isn’t even interested in working on the documents. He’s just using the whole thing to flirt with you. It’s all just a game for him. And you’re falling for it!” He clenches his hands into fists. “He’s only doing this because he wants to get you into his bed, and he has no idea about the work we’re supposed to be doing here!” Spencer shouts.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. A spark of anger shoots up inside you, and you take a step closer to him. “That’s not true, Spencer,” your tone is sharp now, the words harsh and disregarding the tension between you. “We just get along well, okay? That’s all!” you say.

“Oh, really?” Spencer snorts derisively and shakes his head. “You know exactly what he wants. And it has nothing to do with work, you can be sure of that. He talks to you, flirts with you, and you let it all go like nothing’s happening!” He spits out each word as if he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

You feel your heart rate increase. You clench your fists now too. "You have no idea, Spencer!" you hiss. Your anger continues to grow the more you hear his words echoing in your head. "You have no idea what's really going on here, and most importantly, it’s none of your business, okay? You are not my boyfriend." You secretly hope that he will object and tell you that this is what he wants, but he just keeps looking at you.

The air between you is electric, so thick and charged that it almost feels like it could explode. Spencer stares at you, his face tense, but you can see a mixture of anger and... disappointment in his eyes. But when you said that it was none of his business, it seemed as if something inside him was breaking. You can see it in his eyes.

"I understand..." he says with a bitter smile, but it sounds more like disappointment than an answer. You can’t stay in that place any longer. You want to get out of that room, away from him, from this tense situation, from his accusations. You just leave him standing there, without another word. You open the door and quickly leave the room, heading back to the office, where the rest of the team is still going about their daily lives.

-

Spencer sits at his desk, his eyes fixed on the maps in front of him, but his thoughts are everywhere — except at work. His gaze keeps drifting to the desk where you are sitting with James. You’re speaking to each other; he says something, and you laugh. Again. Spencer can’t stand it. The thought that this guy is getting closer and closer to you burns inside him like fire.

The moment you left the small office is burned into his memory. Your words, his reaction — it had all been a blow to him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He felt hurt, disappointed, and even though he buried it deep inside, he knows that something inside him had broken.

At that moment, Luke appears again. He leans casually against the table, watching Spencer for a while before breaking the silence. "You look like you’ve just been through some personal drama," he says with a crooked grin that lightens the atmosphere but doesn’t obscure the seriousness of Spencer's face. "What happened, man? What’s wrong with you? Is it because of these two?" he asks and points over to you and James.

Spencer sighs and wipes his hand across his face before slowly turning back. "Nothing. It’s nothing." But even he knows he can’t hide behind that answer. “Come on," Luke urges, sitting down on the edge of the desk and leaning back. "I saw that. You’re not just annoyed. You look like you’ve just been through an argument. What happened?"

Spencer slowly turns Luke and shakes his head. "It’s... nothing important." He feels like admitting it would only weaken him further, so he continues in a short, clipped tone, "She’s just... she doesn’t understand me. I told her not to talk to the guy. And she... she doesn’t want to listen. So what?” Luke looks at him in silence for a moment. Then he snorts softly.

“You know, Spencer," he begins in a serious tone, "you both just have to stop ignoring what’s obvious." Spencer stares at him, unsure of what to say next. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," Spencer says. “Oh, come on," Luke says, looking straight at him. "You’re in love with her, and she’s in love with you. You two are just ignoring it like a couple of idiots."

Spencer blinks, his eyes widening for a moment as if the thought of Luke saying that caught him completely off guard. "What?" he blurts out. "What are you talking about? That’s not true. I’m not in love with her. I’m just trying protect her from getting hurt by that idiot.”

Luke leans in closer. "You look at her like she could change your life, and you roll your eyes every time James or another man is around, like it’s a personal attack on your precinct. And her? She’s just as torn, but she won’t admit it." Luke takes a moment before adding, "You two act like you're untouchable, like it’s just a working relationship, but that’s not true. You want each other. So stop lying to each other’s eyes."

Spencer opens his mouth, trying to say something, but then nothing comes to mind. What should he say? It’s the truth. But admitting that feels like losing all control. He feels weak and hurt, and the thought that Luke could see through it so easily doesn’t make it any better.

"I..." Spencer begins, but stops before he can reveal anything else. Instead, he turns back to his map and stares at the documents in front of him. He can’t look at Luke. "Just let it go," he says finally, his tone harsh. "I have to keep working; there’s still a lot to do." Luke sighs and shakes his head as he steps down from Spencer's desk. "You’re a stubborn man sometimes, you know that?" he says with a grin that shows no joy. "But if you keep getting in your own way, it’s no wonder you're wearing yourself out so much."

Spencer hears Luke walking away. But even now, Spencer can’t free himself from the thoughts that torment him. All this time, he believed he could control his feelings for you. But now that Luke brought it up so directly, he became painfully aware that he had become embroiled in something far more complicated than he had ever wanted to admit.

He looks back over to your desk, where you and James are still talking, but this time in a more relaxed manner. Spencer can almost feel the look James is giving you — and it’s driving him crazy. He snorts and tries to focus back on his work, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. You are in his head, over and over, always have been. And the more he tries to ignore it, the stronger the feeling becomes. He can’t escape it.

At the end of the day, Spencer and you avoid each other. Spencer sinks back into his work, conversations with you are kept to a minimum, and at some point, you and James disappear together into a meeting that Spencer doesn’t even try to follow. It’s as if they are the only two sharing the room, while Spencer is lost in the loneliness in his head.

-

When all the work is finally done, the team decides to go to a bar to end the evening in a relaxed manner. Luke is now trying to persuade him to come along. "A little relaxation, a beer – that's good for everyone," he says. “Come on," Luke says. "You've been thinking about her and your stupid fight all day. A little fresh air, a beer, and a few relaxed conversations – that will do you good. And besides... it's always better to hang out with us than to sit around alone, right?" he asks.

"I don't know, man," Spencer grumbles as he stares at his book. "I'm really not in the mood to talk to people today." Luke shakes his head. "You say that every time. Come on. I'll get you a beer, and then we'll talk about something else. Otherwise, you'll go crazy!" Spencer sighs and looks at Luke.

"Will she be there too?" he asks, and Luke nods. Spencer knows you’ll still be mad at him, but he's a little relieved because it means that if you’re at the bar, at least you won't be spending the evening alone with James.

And even though Spencer doesn’t really want to be around, it’s way better than sitting in his room, thinking about you. So he gives in. "Okay, okay, I'll come with you. But if it gets too much for me, I'll leave," he says. “All right," Luke replies, immediately setting off and clapping his hands happily.

-

When they enter the bar, the mood is relaxed, and the music in the background isn’t too loud. It is a nice place – exactly what Spencer needs to clear his head. The stress of the day is suddenly far away, and he feels a little bit better. But when he looks around the room, he pauses for a moment.

At a table at the back of the bar, there are all the people from the police team they are working with on the current case. Spencer stops abruptly when he spots them. And to his horror, he notices that James– the guy who had been getting on his nerves all day – is there too.

But that isn’t the worst part. What upsets Spencer most is the sight of you. You are sitting right next to James again. He has a charming expression on his face as he explains something to you, and everything about his body language screams, "I'm interested in you." Spencer feels the wave of jealousy and frustration building up inside him again. "What the hell...?" he mutters quietly as he turns to look at Luke. "What are they doing here?"

Luke, who is heading towards the bar, looks around in confusion, then at Spencer. "What?" he asks. “All the people from the police team... and James. Why the hell are they here?" Spencer snorts as he tries to stay calm, but anger is seething inside him. Luke blinks and then looks around at the faces as well. "Uh..." he finally says, scratching his head.

“I didn't know they were invited too. I thought this was just for us. Really...?" He is visibly surprised. "That's weird. Well, whatever. We're here, they're here – it's not the end of the world, is it?" Luke says. “At least not for you," Spencer says and rolls his eyes. “I didn't know, man," Luke says apologetically. "If you want, we can leave. But I thought you wanted to distract yourself a little. Come on, it'll be fine."

Spencer really just wants to get out, but he knows he can’t just disappear without being noticed. The whole group already saw them, and it would be even weirder to just turn around and leave. So he takes a deep breath to stay calm. “I'm staying," Spencer finally says, even though the thought of just standing there almost drives him mad. "But if that guy talks to her like that again, then..."

"You're exaggerating," Luke says, patting Spencer on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get something to drink first, okay? That will make it easier to bear." Spencer nods, even though he feels the restlessness inside him. “I urgently need something to drink.” Luke grabs two beers for them, while Spencer just stands there, trying hard not to look in the direction of the table where you and James are sitting.

But every time his gaze happens to wander there, he feels his muscles tense. James is still talking to you, and this time he seems to be paying particular attention to you. Spencer can practically feel Jame’s gaze – the gaze of a man who wants more. “Man, you really have to relax. Running around like a caged tiger all the time isn't going to help you,” Luke says.

“The problem is, I don’t want to see him making out with her,” Spencer admits. “I mean, what the hell? We're working on the same case, and he..." He exhales sharply. "That guy is the last person I want to get along with."

Luke shakes his head, but his grin slowly disappears. "Okay, I understand. But if you really want to prevent him from getting involved with her, you have to pull yourself together, otherwise everything will just revolve around him. Just relax. Drink something, talk to the others. And if you really want to change something, you have to do something instead of just staring."

Spencer nods, but the restlessness inside him remains. While Luke puts the beer in front of him, Spencer continues to stare in the direction of the table where you and James are sitting, while an unpleasant feeling does not leave him alone. When Luke goes over to sit down at table next to yours where Rossi, Matt and Tara are sitting, he follows him lost in his thoughts.

-

Your POV

The evening in the bar is slowly dragging on, and you try to relax as much as possible. But despite the conversations and the more relaxed mood, there is this one constant feeling that you can't shake off: Spencer's gaze. You feel it all the time – not directly, but still clearly. Again and again, you notice how his eyes fix on you from a distance, every time you laugh or get into a conversation. And you know it isn’t a coincidence.

The jealousy in him is almost tangible, but you can also see his insecurity. It’s as if he’s losing himself in his own thoughts. He keeps clenching his fists, as if he can’t control the situation. And while you are angry at him – at the way he behaves, at the way he’s closing himself off from his feelings – you also feel some pity for him.

You are both caught in this kind of self-denial. You think that he might feel as much for you as you feel for him, but he just never really dared to admit it. He had always been a little distant at times – almost as if he didn’t want to get too close to you. Perhaps out of fear of admitting to himself that he felt more for you. And you? You aren’t much better. You never address your feelings for him directly, for fear that he wouldn't return them, or worse, would just ignore them.

When James had shown interest in you, it had been a painful but somehow useful moment. The sudden attention he’s giving you seems to be working – at least in theory. Penelope and Emily advised you to use the opportunity to make Spencer jealous. It’s a risky gamble, but you know it might be the only way to get Spencer to come out of his shell. You hesitated at first, but over time you realized that you had to at least try.

James is funny, has a quick quip on his lips, and manages to make you laugh. And while you get along well with him, you feel Spencer’s gaze only getting more intense from one moment to the next. It’s almost like an invisible competition – James is flirting with you, and Spencer is watching from afar without lifting a finger. Why is he doing that? Why can’t he just walk up to you and show you what he really feels?

Every time you notice Jame’s gaze on you, you also feel Spencer withdrawing more and more into himself, his eyes lowering to the table and occasionally playing with his hands. He seems to be struggling to pull himself together, but you know he’s seething inside. And you... you are angry at him, yes. Angry that he never made the first move, angry that he doesn’t dare to show you how he feels about you.

But at the same time, there’s also a little bit of pity, because you know how vulnerable he really is. He doesn’t want to admit that he feels the same way, and it’s easier for him to watch you from afar rather than face the fear that his feelings for you bring with them.

And then... the moment when James turns back to you and puts his hand on your arm as he whispers something in your ear – a joke, a charming compliment that you can barely hear - you see Spencer’s look out of the corner of your eye. He stares at you, his jaw clenched, and you can see the anger and jealousy building up inside him.

For a moment, you feel... powerful. And guilty at the same time. Is that really the right way? Is there really any point in provoking him like that? “You can calm down,” Penelope whispers to you as she sits down next to you. “He’s been looking at you like that all evening, and we all know he’ll have to make the first move at some point. He won’t be able to ignore it forever.”

You take a deep breath and nod, even though you are torn inside. What if it just doesn’t work? What if he never dares? And what if he just wants to keep you in the friend zone without ever crossing the line? You look over to Spencer again – his eyes are still on you, but this time there is something different in his gaze. Doubt? Hurt?

“He just needs to see that you’re no longer available,” Emily says, as she advised you. “And then he’ll react. It’s just a matter of time.” James asks for another drink and turns back to you with a charming smile. Spencer’s gaze continues to burn into your back. But now that you’ve dared to use the situation to your advantage, you know: It’s a risky game, but perhaps the only thing you can do to bring the truth to light. You didn’t even know he would get this jealous.

But you can’t bring yourself to spend the whole evening here and continue to be stuck in this tension. It’s too much. “I’m going to the bathroom for a minute,” you say with a slight smile that is more polite than genuine joy. You turn to James, who is about to lean toward you again. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods and gives you a meaningful smile. “Sure, take your time. I’ll wait for you here.” You stand up, run your fingers through your hair, and walk toward the bathroom, looking over your shoulder once more to scan the room behind you. Your eyes immediately find the one spot that turns your stomach: Spencer.

He is still sitting in his seat, and you feel the atmosphere between you thickening. He has seen you. And you cannot miss his eyes – they are burning in your direction, as if they are blocking out everything else. It’s that look that you’ve felt from him too many times – a look that doesn’t let you go, a look that is full of anger and uncertainty at the same time. And yet, there is something else.

You pause for a moment when you notice that he’s watching you intensely. A brief hesitation, then you give him a look – almost like a small awakening between the two of you. It’s the moment when everything around you seems to go quiet. A moment that only exists between you and him.

Luke, who had been following the whole scene with a watchful eye, turned to Spencer when he noticed you moving away from your seat. “It’s now or never, Spencer,” he says, his tone serious. “If you really want her, now’s your chance. You have to do something. Otherwise, she’ll go back to him.”

Spencer glanced nervously in your direction as he saw you heading to the bathroom. For a moment, he just stared, then he abruptly stood up, dropped his beer back on the table, and walked in the direction you had disappeared.

-

You are washing your hands when the door opens behind you and Spencer appears. He walks towards you, his gaze hard and determined, but also somehow… vulnerable. The determination in his eyes reveals that he hasn’t come here without a conversation.

"Spencer?" you ask, and he takes a deep breath. Then he says in a tone so hard and yet so quiet that you can practically feel the inner conflict within him: "I don't want you to go back to him." You look at him, completely surprised by the sudden turn of events. Your eyes narrow slightly as you consider the words. "What?"

Spencer seems to force himself to repeat it again as he takes a step closer. "I don't want you to go back to him," he repeats, and this time it sounds final.

"Why?" you ask challengingly. Now that he said it like that, he sounds even more jealous than he did this morning in the office.

"Because I want to be the one," he finally says. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning. "I want to be the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who touches you, who tells you... things you want to hear. Not him. Me." For a moment, there is silence between the two of you. The words he had just said hang in the air.

You look at him—really, for the first time in a while, you see him clearly. Without the wall of insecurity and reserved distance that he had always built around himself. Without the anger that he had shown you again and again since he came back from prison.

"Why didn't you say that earlier? I could never be sure. I tried to talk to you but most of the time you were so distant," you finally say. “Because I... because I didn't know how," Spencer says. "I didn't know what you really felt. And... I didn't want to lose you. After everything that had happened with Maeve, then my time in prison... I was just afraid that you would be taken away from me too."

You look deep into his eyes. He loves you. For a long time. But he never admitted it to himself. He let himself be too guided by the fear of having lost too much if he had said it. And you? You hesitated just as long. But this moment... this moment is the turning point. Now you know.

"I don't want to lose you either, Spencer," you say quietly. For a moment, he just stands there and looks at you, but then he takes a step closer, and suddenly the distance between you is gone. Without another word, he pulls you towards him. His lips find yours, and in that kiss is everything you've ever wanted.

You run your hands through his hair, something you always wanted to do, and press yourself closer against him. He kisses down your neck, grazing a spot with his teeth before he bits down, leaving a hickey. Then leans closer to your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. In that moment, when the two of you finally give in to your desires, something snaps.

“You were driving me crazy today, angel. I had to hold myself together all day while he was busy flirting with you. But you’re mine.” He goes back to kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue and biting down on your lip. You press even closer against him. “Touch me, Spence, please,” you whisper, but he pulls back and chuckles. “Now you want me to touch you? After you spend the whole day hanging out with this idiot?” he says, not giving you what you want right away after what happened today.

“Yes, please. I only want you,” you say, roaming your hands over his body but he turns you around and your back presses against the wall. “Woah, Spence,” you squeak but he shuts you up by pressing another kiss to your lips. His hands begin to slowly trail underneath your top and squeeze your breasts through your bra. “We’re leaving. Now. I waited way too long for this. I’m not going to fuck you in a bathroom, at least not now,” he says with a smirk on his lips and you clench your thighs together in excitement.

He leans down to place one last kiss on your mouth before he takes your hand and pulls you out of the bathroom after him. He doesn’t even bother to tell the others you are leaving now, the only thought in his mind being you. To your advantage, the hotel is almost directly across from the bar. It's only about a 10 minute walk, but this time it feels even shorter as Spencer takes long, quick steps to get there as quickly as possible.

When you stand in front of the door of his room Spencer let’s go of your hand to reach for the keys in his bag. As soon as unlocks the door he pushes you in and closes the door before pressing you against the next wall. You can feel how hard he already is. His mouth is back on your neck in instant, kissing the spot where he left the hickey.

His hands trail back under your top again, but this time he immediately unclasps your bra. He squeezes one of your nipples before tugging at your top to show you that he wants it off. You help him and begin to open the buttons of his shirt too before it joins your top on the floor. While kissing you Spencer guides you to the bed and when your knees hit the bed frame you drop with your back on the bed.

Spencer takes the opportunity to take off your jeans and underwear in one motion, taking a step back to admire you from afar. “You’re so beautiful. And all mine,” he says, his eyes sparkling with lust. He comes closer and leans down, placing kisses all over your body and you keep running your fingers through his hair. It’s even softer than you thought. When he leaves another hickey you tug at his hair, earning a groan from him.

To hear this sound coming from him turns you on more than you could’ve imagined and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. Spencer’s head is now going down, in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs before running a finger through your folds. “You’re so wet. Is this all for me?” he asks, slipping a finger inside you. “Only for you, Spence,” you moan, lifting your hips to show him you want more.

But he stops and pulls away from you. “No, you’re not allowed to move,” he says with a smirk on his face. “Why not?” you ask, eagerly waiting for him to continue his actions. “Because I said so,” he simply says and then you understand. He wants to make you wait and even more desperate for him. It’s some kind of power play, he wants to show you that he’s the one who is in charge.

“Listen to me and I’ll give you what you want,” he says while his finger slowly trails circles on your clit. “Do you understand?” he asks, locking eyes with you. “Yes, I understand,” you say. All you want is for him to keep touching you, it’s addictive. “Good girl,” he says before slipping his fingers back inside you. You shiver and he immediately notices the affect the words have on you.

“Interesting. You like being called a good girl, am I right?” he asks, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you. “Ye - yes,” you whisper. “I can’t hear you,” he says while you try to hold yourself back to not arch into his touch like he told you to. “Yes, I - I like it,” you say. He seems satisfied with your answer and adds another finger. You feel the pleasure shoot right through you and you’re afraid you’re are no longer able to control your body.

“Please, I’m so close,” you whimper but he stops again. He‘s definitely driving you crazy. “No. I want you to come on my tongue,” Spencer says and leans down, immediately licking a stripe up your pussy before sucking on your clit. “Oh…” you exhale at the warm feeling of his tongue. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says. You feel him moaning against you and a shiver runs down your spine when he swirls his tongue around your clit.

His hands push into your thighs, making sure to keep them apart to keep on eating you out. Then he adds a finger and your entire body is on edge. You start to lose yourself in the pleasure and when you look down and see his head buried between your thighs, diving restlessly into you, you start to lose yourself.

“Spence, I - can I -“ you are no longer able to form a sentence, far too lost in the pleasure already. You’re glad he decides against teasing you for it this time. “Come on my tongue, angel,” he says and sucks on your clit to set you over the edge. Your orgasms crashes over you and you keep moaning his name when you come. Spencer chuckles and comes up to kiss you, giving you a moment to recover. You can taste yourself on his lips and push your tongue in his mouth.

“Need you now, Spence. Please,” you whisper in his ear. “What do you need, angel? You have to tell me,” he says. “You Spence - I need you inside me.” His hands reach for his belt and he unclasps it before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper. He pulls is pants and boxers down and your gaze wanders down his body and your eyes widen when you see his cock. He is bigger than expected, his tip already glistening with pre-cum.

He begins to stoke his cock lazily, enjoying the look you give him. “I don’t have a condom,” he says when he leans down to you. “I’m on birth control,” you tell him as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in to give him a kiss. You can feel how he lines your cock up your entrance, slowly sliding through your folds and over your clit to tease you.

“Spence, I need you inside me now,” you say and lift your hips again but he gives you a disappointed look. “I thought I told you not to move?” he says, pressing you back down with one of his hands. “I - I forgot. And it’s not fair when you drive me crazy the whole time,” you say and he chuckles. “Look at you, so desperate for my cock. Well, if you don’t want me to drive you crazy then I’m going to fuck you stupid, is that what you want?” he asks. “Yes Spence, please, fuck me,” you breath out and he finally pushes inside you.

“Fuck,” he sighed when he feels you clench around him. “I can get used to this.” You never felt so full before. He starts to thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot. You wrap your legs around his waist and feel him even deeper inside of you. “Harder,” you beg him and his thrusts become more intense as he fucks you faster and deeper. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. So wet and warm, just for me. Tell me, who does this pussy belongs to?” he says and grabs your hips harder, his fingers digging into the skin, leaving bruises there.

Your mind is going blank at the pleasure and you’re not able to answer him. But then one of his hands leaves your hips and grabs your hair, pulling your head back. You moan and open your eyes to see Spencer looking down at you. “I asked you a question. Answer me,” he says, his eyes sparkling with lust. “You - belongs to you, Spence,” you moan and grab his back to hold your shaking body steady. You’re close now, Spencer can feel it too.

“Yes, all mine. I’m the one who gets to fuck you,” he says and he thrusts so deep inside you that you can’t help but arch your back. Spencer can feel that you’re close and he starts to circle your clit with his thumb again. “I want you to come for me, now,” he says and you let go. Your orgasms hits you and you moan his name when you come, feeling his cock twitching inside of you before he finishes too.

He pulls out of you and collapses next to you on the bed. He places a gentle kiss on your head. “Are you okay?” he asks. You nod, still exhausted and not able to form any words. He pulls you into his arms and starts to stroke your hair. “I’m glad you’re all mine now,” he says and you turn your head to look into his eyes. “My heart always belonged to you, Spence. And that will never change,” you say, cuddling closer to him. “I love you so much,” he says and strokes your cheek gently.

You lean forward to kiss him. “I love you too, especially when you get jealous,” you say with a smirk on your lips. He rolls his eyes jokingly and he pokes your ribs, causing you to giggle. “Hey, stop that!” you say, trying to hold down his hands, effortlessly. You’re underneath him in a heartbeat and he starts to kiss down your neck again. “I’m far from done with you tonight, angel.”

[crushmeeren]

ᝰ KATSUKI’S NSFW ALPHABET .ᐟ

̽ ⋆ ﹒♡﹒ GOD…. The epilogue is KILLIN ME!!!!! I had to write the brain rot out of my brain.

‣ ‣ cw ; spanking, choking, lil’ bit of degradation — vanilla otherwise.

master list ‣ ‣ @i-the-fluffo

ᝰ A ‣ ‣ AFTERCARE { ༝༝ what’s katsuki like after sex? ༝༝ }

Often, sex ends with you becoming dead to the world, falling asleep in record time because Katsuki’s fucked out all your stress. Fortunately, or somewhat unfortunately for you, Katsuki is unable to leave things unclean. He downright refuses to relax.

So even when you’ve started to doze off, harsh panting turning steady and mellow, Katsuki runs his fingers through your hair, presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and demands you “get the hell up pillow princess, we aren’t sleepin’ in this fuckin’ mess.”

On the rare occasion he’s able to convince you to join him in the shower, he’ll ask if you want him to wash your hair. Sometimes, if you aren’t itching to be back in bed, you’ll say yes.

Katsuki also has a habit of positioning you so the spray of hot water will hit your back. Strong arms will wind around your shoulders, hugging you close to his chest, and every inch of you will keep warm.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ B ‣ ‣ BODY PART { ༝༝ katsuki’s favorite ༝༝ }

I can’t seem to shake the idea that Katsuki is an ass man.

He finds reasons for his hands to be on your ass no matter what. Cooking? He’s behind you, grabbing a handful and squeezing. At the gym? He’s spotting you while you do squats, smacking you every time you finish a set. When you have to get up from the couch after the fourth episode you’ve binged because you need to pee? Yeah, he’s there too. “Helping” you by shoving a hand up the back of your shorts to palm the curve of your ass and lever you up.

Don’t even get me started about the hand prints he leaves during sex.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ C ‣ ‣ CUM { ༝༝ where katsuki likes to cum ༝༝ }

Katsuki loves when the tight heat of your pussy locks onto his cock and refuses to free him, sucking him in like it’s begging to be stuffed full. It destroys his determination to pull out every time.

If he’s not burying himself inside you, he’s keeping a steady pace until his balls draw up tight, until his stomach clenches in warning, before he slips free, pumping his cock and covering your ass with glossy threads.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ E ‣ ‣ EXPERIENCE { ༝༝ how much does katsuki have? ༝༝ }

Katsuki’s dipped his toe into the water a few times, so to speak. No, he’s not one to sleep around, but you met him in his mid to late twenties. He’s had time to venture out and explore, as most people in that phase of their life do.

How else do you think he got toe curling pussy eating skills?

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ F ‣ ‣ FAVORITE POSITION { ༝༝ katsuki’s favorite ༝༝ }

Katsuki’s under a spell fucking you from behind. The first snap of his hips jiggles your ass and it leaves him slackjawed, fingers digging into your squishy hips to use as leverage while he yanks you back to meet each heavy thrust thereafter.

The curve of your spine, the clench of the muscles in your upper back, and the fact that the side profile of your fucked out expression is on display when it’s not shoved into the sheets all fill him with pride. It soothes the hidden primal urge in his brain.

To Katsuki, it’s a victory high when he pushes all the right buttons to shred your voice and shake your thighs while your ass is in the air.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ H ‣ ‣ HAIR { ༝༝ does katsuki shave or care? ༝༝ }

Katsuki does shave. Not bald, because it’s odd to him when there’s no hair. A small nestle of blonde curls is all that remains above the base of his cock. Sometimes, when you sneak your hand past the waistband of his briefs, and your fingers tease through the coarse hair, his brain starts to buzz.

In the case of whether or not he cares if you shave, his opinion can be summarized down to this — he does not give a single shit. He cares more that you do what’s comfortable for you rather than what you think he wants.

Whether your pussy looks like a hairless cat or a lions mane, you’ll scream his name.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ I ‣ ‣ INTIMACY { ༝༝ is katsuki romantic? ༝༝ }

Sometimes.

There are times when you need Katsuki to fuck you silly. To push into you so hard it bruises your hips, hands braced on the wall above your head to keep yourself from a concussion.

Other times, his fingers will search for yours and tangle together, ending with them pinned to the mattress. Katsuki’s face will bury itself into your throat, warm breath fanning your neck until it’s damp as his hips flex with the effort of making love to you. The tip of his cock slides across your g-spot and your back arches, tits pressing into his chest. Katsuki’s moan splinters, and he’ll chant “I love you, love you so fuckin’ much,” until your knuckles turn white.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ J ‣ ‣ JERKING OFF { ༝༝ does katsuki jerk off? ༝༝ }

Once, maybe twice a week, in the shower, he’ll curl his fingers around his cock. You’re the star of his show, whether you’re there in reality or not.

Eyes closed, Katsuki will brace a hand on the wall and remember the time you jerked him off in the shower. The memory of hot water on his chest, your soapy tits pressed against his back, and how he met each drag of your hand with a roll of his hips. It’s one of his favorites.

Usually he tries to avoid a mess, so he doesn’t touch himself in bed often. But when he does, he stares at the collection of filthy pictures you’ve sent him. Maybe a video of you sucking his cock, if you felt generous enough to allow him to record one.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ K ‣ ‣ KINK { ༝༝ katsuki’s kinks ༝༝ }

Spanking you, admiring your skin as it swells and burns hot to the touch, always sends heat sinking through Katsuki’s belly and straight to his cock. He wouldn’t do it if you didn’t squirm and cry out, pressing your ass into him to silently ask for more.

Along with spanking, Katsuki will flatten you to the mattress, haul a leg over his shoulder, and latch his fingers around your throat. The feel of your pussy fluttering, reacting as soon as he restricts your air flow, shoots adrenaline down his spine.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ L ‣ ‣ LOCATION { ༝༝ where katsuki likes to fuck ༝༝ }

Your bed is preferred. It’s big, comfortable, affording you the privacy Katsuki demands. He’d chew off his own arm before another person witnesses you unravel for him.

Other than that, he leaves the decision to you. As long as there’s some sort of solitude, and it’s not icky, Katsuki’s more or less fine with it.

You’ll get an earful if he isn’t.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ O ‣ ‣ ORAL { ༝༝ katsuki’s thoughts on oral ༝༝ }

Straddling his face, so slick that he laps at your pussy like an ice cream cone, tongue sliding over your tender clit again and again — that’s what curls pleasure low in Katsuki’s pelvis. Giving him the surreal sensation that he could cum from the slightest brush of his fingers.

When it’s reversed, and you’re the one with the aching jaw and swollen lips, Katsuki’s calloused palm will cup your jaw, thumb running along the bone underneath your eye, and his hips will thrust slowly to meet the fluid motion of your bobbing head. Eventually, Katsuki’s patience will run out, and you’ll be in his lap before he cums.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ Q ‣ ‣ QUICKIES { ༝༝ katsuki and quickies ༝༝ }

Katsuki prefers savoring the moment, so quickies aren’t his favorite. He will though, if you’re both pent up and it’s all the time you have.

It’s not a quickie by definition, but Katsuki enjoys waking you up in the middle of the night, squeezing between your legs and slipping his dick into your sleep soft body to seal you as one. Clinging to him with heavy limbs, moaning in his ear about how good he feels, he brings you both over the edge in no time.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ S ‣ ‣ STAMINA { ༝༝ what’s katsuki’s stamina like? ༝༝ }

Katsuki’s ego would bruise if his stamina was anything less than stellar. To be fair, he’s trained long days and even longer nights to achieve it. Repeatedly working himself to the bone for even an ounce of progress.

But, you make him weak. Katsuki’s man enough to admit there are times when his pleasure wells up so hot, so fast, that the iron grip on his control slips. He can’t help but suck in a sharp breath between his teeth, snap his hips forward and finish inside you.

The saving grace is that he can go multiple rounds without begging for too much of his stamina.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ T ‣ ‣ TEASE { ༝༝ does katsuki like to tease you? ༝༝ }

Teasing you until you’re flustered, until your expression is cracked with pleasure, it’s an achievement in Katsuki’s mind. In between the slick rejoining of your hips, when he can catch his breath, he’ll open his mouth and mutter with a rich, low tone “So fuckin’ needy for my cock, yeah? Can’t even go a day without it, you spoiled rotten princess.”

You love to hear Katsuki belongs to you, only you, and he uses that to his advantage to turn you to mush. When he eats you out, he moans, pulling back to stare at you with heavy lidded eyes, teasing you with “You love that I’m a fuckin’ slut for your pussy, don’t you?” The words sink into your skin, a flash of heat slicing through your belly, and the nod of your head is jerky. A few more swipes of his tongue and you’re cumming.