#comfortable sleep attire
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mekyrdesign · 2 months ago
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Step back in time with our 1990s Vintage Pajama Set for Women. This nostalgic ensemble offers comfort and style, perfect for a cozy night in or lounging around the house. Made from soft, breathable fabric, the 1990s Vintage Pajama Set for Women features a classic cut and vibrant patterns that capture the essence of the decade. Embrace the retro charm while enjoying modern-day comfort in this timeless piece, ideal for any vintage lover's wardrobe.
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nochepsicodelica · 3 months ago
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NSFW
Toji waking you up with soft kisses and gentle caresses at almost two in the morning because he wants to (prone) bone you. You hum in question of all his touching, and he leans in close to your ear to murmur what he wants. You shake him off and close your eyes, trying to fall back asleep, but he interrupts you again and again with his relentless pleads. "Please, mama?" "I'll be so gentle. Please?" "Please, pretty girl?" "Baby, please?"
You roll over onto your stomach with a tired sigh and a mumble of, "Do what you want to me. I'm staying asleep."
He loves you so much. For much deeper reasons than sex, but this is definitely a peak 'my girl is the best' moment for him. With zero hesitation, he sits up and removes his minimal sleep attire—his boxers. He pulls the blanket off your lower body, revealing your legs, and lifts up your shirt, exposing even more of you.
"Oh, baby," he says, voice low as his hands keep moving. "Hiding all of this under that enormous shirt." He rides his hands down your waist and over your hips, before tugging your underwear down and off. He leans forward, and he truly meant it when he said he would be gentle with you. He slid into you as carefully as he could. He coos at you when you squirm and whimper at the intrusion, pacing himself as he molds his body into yours. He turned into a weighted blanket for you, making up for the actual blanket he peeled off of you once he lies down.
He mumbles breathy appreciations into your ear, in the form of praise and actual gratitude, as he rolls his hips into you.
"So pretty and soft. So fucking perfect, baby," he says, ending it with a needy groan. You could fall asleep comfortably with all the rocking if it weren't for the stimulation being offered below. You made your fair share of sound, and Toji loved it despite the fact that you told him that you would be sleeping. You let out a few muffled whimpers, some gasps and shuddered exhales. Nothing extreme because he's not blowing out your back. It feels more like a form of love making.
When he cums, he's groaning and panting into your ear, sloppily kissing the side of your face while squeezing the life out of you in his arms, like he has the most severe case of cuteness aggression. He just lies there for a minute, wondering if he should make you cum, too, but within the time it takes for him to bounce back, you're dozing off again. He sighs, contentedly, his needs satisfied by you, as always. He presses one more kiss to your temple before he crawls off of you and heads towards the bathroom to fetch a towel to clean you up with.
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serendipity-adventures · 1 year ago
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22 Key Tips for Comfortable Sleep on an Overnight Bus
Explore essential tips for comfortable sleep on an overnight bus, aimed at enhancing your rest and overall travel experience
Introduction Achieving restful sleep during an overnight bus journey is a significant challenge due to the moving vehicle, limited space, and presence of other passengers. Good sleep is crucial for maintaining cognitive function, mood, and overall health, especially when traveling. Despite the difficult environment, finding ways to sleep comfortably on a bus is important. Insufficient sleep can…
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elliewithcellie · 5 months ago
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summary: After months working for the BAU, your harbored feelings for your boss seem unrequited until your hunt for the unsub goes awry. (hotch x fem!reader)
wc: 9.8k (oh my god)
cw: slow burn, boss/employee dynamic, age gap pairing, criminal minds level violence, mention of alcoholism, implication of father issues, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, fluff, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Hotch is a professional at heart and takes work boundaries seriously
a/n: Back in the saddle with a new man to hyper-fixate on. Hotch can GET IT. Also, let me know if anyone wants the SFW version I'm working on
“Looks like we’re doubling up,” Hotch announced, a sigh escaping his lips.
Before you could even process his words, the rest of the team sounded off, choosing their roommates for the duration of the case. All that remained were you and your boss. With the team dispersing, you awkwardly shifted your duffle bag to your other shoulder and looked up at Hotch.
His stern expression didn’t change as he looked back at you. “Come on. We’re 202.”
You followed him to the elevators, still unsure what to think. This was not only your boss but someone you had garnered quite a fondness for since you joined the BAU. Of course, you had managed yourself professionally thus far, but you were sure this was going to test your limits.
You understood the immediate pairings among the rest of the team. You were still fairly new, not quite to the rapport that the team had formed with each other. But it also made you think about how no one chose Hotch. The pressure to be Unit Chief also had to be lonely.
The elevator chimed, and the two of you shuffled in. You kept to yourself, trying to maintain composure. The lift from the first floor to the second felt like an hour, the silence deafening. You couldn’t shake your nerves. The doors opened, and he stepped out. You quickly followed.
Hotch opened the door and allowed you in first. The two double beds, office chair, mini fridge, and small bathroom were all less comforting to you than normal.
“Do you mind if I take the bed by the door?” Hotch asked, his voice softer than usual.
You blinked up at him, stirred from your preoccupation. “Yeah, of course. I like the window side anyway.”
“Thank you. If you’d like, you can have the shower first. I’d like to call Jack before he heads to bed.”
“Sounds good.”
You began to unpack your belongings and sighed in dismay. You had assumed that you would have a room to yourself as usual, so your pajamas were a little more revealing than you’d prefer your boss to see. Still, a t-shirt and shorts were reasonable sleep attire, so you tried not to dwell on it. You collected your things as Hotch dialed a number on his phone.
“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”
You smiled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. His “dad” voice was more upbeat, yet calm and soothing. With Hotch distracted on the phone, you could relax in the shower. The boiling water stung your skin, just the way you needed it. As you relaxed, you realized how silly it was for you to stress over the rooming situation. Hotch was here to do his job, just like you. And other than his intelligence, his kindness, and his fierce compassion for kids, you were sure you were only infatuated with him.
You finished up your shower and towel-dried your hair once you could no longer hear his muffled voice through the door. You were desperate not to waste Hotch’s time. With your hair still wet and your large t-shirt hanging over your shorts, you timidly exited the bathroom back to your bed, on your toes as if you were sneaking around. Hotch sat on his bed, his coat jacket now on the desk chair. He flipped through channels with the remote in one hand and loosened his tie with the other.
“All yours,” you spoke, struggling to get the words out.
Hotch looked up at you and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He gathered up his things and closed the bathroom door behind him.
Another sigh of relief left your lips. You grabbed the book from your duffle and climbed into bed. You rolled over to turn on the lamp next to you and began to read, but before you knew it, sleep overtook you.
------
“Hotchner.”
You woke up to Hotch answering his phone. The sky was still dark. The only light illuminating the room was the alarm clock. You realized that you hadn’t turned off the lamp before you fell asleep, nor did you place your book carefully on the side table with a hotel pen as the bookmark.
“Alright. Yes. Right. Understood. We’ll be right over.”
You looked up at Hotch expectantly. He looked at you, then averted his eyes as he got out of bed. “Another young girl missing. She’s only 16.” He paced the floor for a moment, a short-lived break from the stoic leader he always has to be.
“I’ll call the others,” you said sitting up. His eyes returned to yours, the strain turning into relief. He only nodded and headed for the closet, suiting up right there.
You called the others and followed suit, leaving the hotel parking lot by 3:46 am.
------
The next 18 hours were long, stressful, and only moderately successful. The team was able to work out an arrangement with the kidnapper before their 24 hours were up. The girl, Heather, was returned to her parents with only a few bruises. But the kidnapper got away, practically goading you all at the ability to remain anonymous. The team was exhausted and out of ideas.
The team drove back to the hotel without a single word exchanged. The kidnapper’s voice rang in your head. He was so confident, arrogant even. There was almost never a moment where he fumbled over his words or cracked. His ruse lasted for hours. But he got sloppy in the end, fessing up to her location just enough for Garcia to triangulate. But something wasn’t adding up to you: his willingness to run instead of killing her when he had the chance.
Hotch spoke up, stirring you from your ruminations. “We need to start from scratch. Reid, give us a rundown on what, where, and why.”
“Well, we know his victims are all young women now ranging from 16 to 23. They come from middle to upper-class families. He sends messages to the families always demanding ransom within 24 hours. Three women have been killed, and now two have survived. The strange part is whether or not he stays truthful to his word. The parents have always given him what he wants, but then it’s up to his discretion whether he follows through.”
 “Based on these girls,” Prentiss interjected, “this guy’s intelligent. He prides himself on the ability to get away with this.”
“That’s good,” Hotch said, eyes still on the road. “But why work with us sometimes and not others?
The SUV hummed as its passengers sat in silence.   
You decided to speak up. “Prentiss said he prides himself on the ability to get away with this, right?” Everyone sat still, expectant for you to continue. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. This isn’t a sadist who gets off on killing. This isn’t a psychopath with a compulsion. This is a narcissistic sociopath who has been evading capture for weeks now. This is a game to him. It’s a game he knows he can win.”
“Which is why when he’s pressured, he releases the girl.” Hotch nodded along.
“He can take a loss where he can because, to him, the ultimate win is to not get caught,” Reid agreed.
“Great work,” Hotch said, parking the car. “You guys head in and get some good sleep. I’ll fill in the other van. Be ready for a big day of planning.”
You walked up with Reid and Prentiss, a small smile refusing to leave your lips. You cracked it, you thought to yourself.
Your two teammates teased each other up to the rooms, you following close behind. You weren’t the type to inject yourself into other people’s conversations, which ended up making it hard to connect with them. It was as if you had been adopted into a family that has known each other their whole lives. You were respected, sure, so there was no need to complain. You just wished that you could make jokes with them and have the levity they had during intense cases like this.
Still, even hearing your teammates laugh was enough for you tonight. You longed for a moment longer, but they said their goodnights and headed off.
You entered your room, much more relaxed than the night before. You had yourself all worked up, and for what? You gathered your things and headed to the shower, sure that Hotch wasn’t far behind and would call his son again.
As you exited the bathroom, Hotch entered the room. You jumped despite yourself.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
“It’s ok,” was all you said in response. You returned your things to your bag and slid into bed. You turned on the lamp and began reading while Hotch took his turn in the shower.
You were still reading when he returned, the book more interesting now than it was the night before. You glanced up only for a moment. Hotch wore striped pajama pants tonight, contrasted to the boxers you accidentally noticed earlier that morning. You looked back at your book but couldn’t read it. Your mind wandered to the message Hotch could be sending. Maybe your shorts were inappropriate. Maybe you weren’t meant to see his boxer shorts at all. Maybe he was just cold.
“Good work today,” Hotch said, interrupting your thoughts.
You smiled up at him. “It was a team effort.”
“We may have never come to the conclusion you did. Take the compliment.” Hotch’s lips raised to a subtle smirk, something you’ve only seen a handful of times and certainly never directed toward you.
“Yes, sir,” you said. “Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your eyes drifted back to your book.
“What’s your book about?”
Was Hotch trying to make conversation with you? True, it wasn’t as late as yesterday’s arrival, but in all of your months of working for the BAU, any discussion with the team had been strictly professional. Still, you blushed at the question.
“It’s a romance,” you confessed.
“I have to say,” Hotch began, “I’ve never read a romance novel. What about it appeals to you?”
You thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the suspension of disbelief. The relief to enter a reality where people love in big, romantic ways. Don’t you ever want to get swept off your feet?”
You cringed at the question, debating on whether it was appropriate to ask your superior about romance.
“I think I’d rather do the sweeping,” Hotch said thoughtfully.
You smiled at his words.
“You don’t think people love in romantic ways in this reality?” Hotch asked, looking up at the ceiling. His breaths were calm, and his face seemed to soften from serious to curious.
“I don’t know,” you said sincerely. “My sister is about to marry a real stand-up guy. He’s caring and has a good family who loves her, too. It’s one of those one-and-done fairy tale deals. Like truly made for each other. But I wouldn’t say that’s the norm. It’s not my norm, at least. So, yeah, I guess you could say I’m skeptical.”
You crossed your legs and fiddled with your thumbs. You tried not to reflect on your history, tried not to give any clue to your boss of your true beliefs. It didn’t ultimately matter to the conversation, anyway. The silence stewed as it stirred up new thoughts and old patterns, feeling yourself shut down the conversation. You didn’t mean to. You hated being seen as the one that was boring outside of work. The one that wasn’t friendly enough to get to know.
“I’m sure you don’t know,” Hotch began again, shaking you from your anxious thoughts, “but bringing up your sister reminded me that I met your dad a few years ago.”
You shot up. “You know about him?” You covered your face with your hands.
“He was nationally awarded for his work in counterterrorism. Of course, I know about him.” He laughed softly, a sound you weren’t used to but would never complain to hear it again. “I met him on a job in Bakersfield. He knew the town like the back of his hand. Is he why you joined?”
“In a roundabout way,” you sighed.
“He brought up his girls every chance he could.” Hotch smiled and turned to face you. “One was a soccer star in South Carolina on track to be a doctor. One was a track star a semester away from graduating with honors and applying to Physician Assistant programs, I believe.”
“My sisters are overachievers,” you said.
“Then it’s you he talked about the most. The musician, the future psychologist, the one who found fascination with the minute details of life.”
“My dad said all that?”
“He did. He had offered us beers when it was all over, and he shared photos of you all. You’re certainly much more grown now.” He chuckled.
Your cheeks flushed red at the comment.
“I showed him Jack playing tee-ball, and we both shared some stories before it was time to go. He had some great advice to give.”
“I’m sure he did,” you mumbled. “Sir, I don’t want you to think I got in because of him. He didn’t know until I made it to Quantico. I mean, yes, he always pushed the army and West Point like him, but I did this all on my own, Mr. Hotchner, I swear.”
“Hotch is fine,” he gently corrected. “I’m not worried about where you came from. I knew the entire time. But your qualifications are what got you on the team, not your father. Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue to remember that.”
“Yes, sir.” You thought to yourself for a moment. The candor of the conversation may have added to your bravery in this moment. “Hotch?”
He raised his eyebrows to imply he was listening.
“Umm, Is there anything that I can do to, like… never mind. I’m about to sound pathetic.” You huffed back down into your pillow. You couldn’t believe you were about to ask Hotch how to make friends.
“They’ll warm up to you, just like you’ll warm up to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are.”
You sighed again. Of course, he knew what you were stressing about. He’s the chief profiler after all.
“I’ll let you read now,” Hotch said, getting up from bed. “I’m going to call Jack.”
You gave a small smile and nodded, and he left the room.
------
You woke up the next morning to Hotch returning to the room, two disposable coffee cups and a case file in his hands.
You jerked up from bed. “Am I late?” you asked, scared you slept through the alarm.
“No, no,” he said, walking over to you. “I’m early. Coffee?”
He held out one of the cups to you. You gently accepted.
“Thank you.” You looked over at the clock. 5:54. You rubbed your eyes. “Are you always up this early?”
“On the job, yes,” he said with no inflection. “Much to think about, and much to be done.” He sat back on his bed and reviewed the file you knew he had reviewed countless times. If he was anything like you, he was searching for some hidden puzzle piece, something that the team must have missed to solve the case once and for all. But it was never that easy. Still, maybe some fresh eyes could help.
You slid out of your bed and rested on top of his. “Can I help?”
“Be my guest.” He shifted the file your way for a better vantage point. You crossed your legs and sipped your coffee before getting to work.
You found yourself lost in thought, jotting down those thoughts in the margins. It helped to visualize your connections, even drawing physical lines to connect them. You noticed that the most recent girl didn’t fit the age range of the others, 19-23. You dug deeper, making a note to ask Garcia to run the connection between all of these girls. College? you wrote. There was a college campus within ten minutes of the hotel. One more thing struck you. All of the victims had their hair up in a high ponytail. You weren’t sure how that was associated yet, but you wrote beside each of the photos anyway.
As the early sun began to rise, you grew brutally aware of Hotch’s presence. His body leaned closer to yours, and you felt his eyes sear into your skin. You grew distracted, your mind wandering to the fact that you were wearing only a loose shirt and small shorts in Hotch’s bed. Was he noticing the same thing? Was this a breach of professionalism? Were you making him uncomfortable? Against all your will, you felt your body temperature rise in the form of a blush.
The alarm clock rang out, pulling both Hotch and your attention. You stretched over to turn it off.
“I’ll let you get ready,” Hotch said, jumping out of bed. He headed to the door, refusing to meet your gaze. “Meet me downstairs?”
“Yes, sir,” you said, slightly surprised by the questioning tone of your superior. He nodded and left the room before another word could be spoken.
-------
In the conference room of the local police station sat the team, all watching Hotch interact with the captain of the squad through the glass. You stayed facing the table with your head low. You couldn’t help the bounce of your leg. While the others inferred the conversation outside, your mind had fixated on the morning’s events. The heat of your boss’s breath had tattooed your skin, a branding to the back of your neck. The intimacy, the closeness, and then the flustered nature Hotch left in replayed in your mind. You couldn’t look at him until you could properly collect yourself.
“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Morgan asked. Your head shot up. All eyes were on you now. You failed to hide the rouging in your cheeks.
“Nothing.” You shrugged, though you knew the contradiction in your body language.
JJ chuckled. “Nothing? You’re so tense, so distracted.”
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” Morgan asked again, a smile growing on his face. “Hotch keeping you up all night?”
You flinched at his name. You couldn’t help it, but you outed yourself all the same.
“No, I slept fine. I swear.”
“You flinched!” Prentiss laughed and pointed. “It is about Hotch, isn’t it?”
“Leave the poor girl alone,” Rossi said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.
“Hon, you better tell us what happened in the next three seconds.” Derek swatted at Spencer’s chest. “Reid, help us out, here.”
“Based on the months we’ve known her, she tends to—”
 “Don’t you start profiling me, Reid.” You glared at Spencer across the table.
His arms shot up in the air as if to surrender, but a smirk remained on his face. “All I’m saying is that I know the physical signs of a crush when I see one.”
Your jaw dropped. The conference room filled with laughter.
“Leave her alone!” Garcia yelled from behind you. “She’s our sensitive little one!”
“I’m not 5,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. Penelope hugged you from behind as if to protect you from the others. The others continued to laugh, causing you to smile despite yourself. Morgan took a photo of you and Garcia, and warmth spread through you. Even with all the teasing, being here with the team felt good.
Just then Hotch rushed through the door. “Alright, let’s be seated and get to work. We have a big day ahead of us.” Garcia took her seat, but Hotch stayed standing, opting to position himself in front of the whiteboard. “After speaking with the captain and going through the case file with Y/N this morning, I determined our best attack on the situation. Though, it is rather unorthodox.”
The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. Hotch continued. “What do we know about our killer better than anything? His victimology. We know that he goes after girls and young women aged 16-23. They are middle to upper-class, and not the type to find themselves in trouble. Now, who do we all know who fits this very description?”
“Y/N,” Reid said.
All eyes returned to you, this time with a seriousness looming in the air.
“If we don’t want any other kidnappings, we need to give him what he wants. Going after the 16-year-old was off for him. He’s devolving. Which means we need to act fast before he kills again. This is the only way we can approach this head-on.”
“Hotch,” Emily began, “with all due respect, let me take this on. Or JJ. JJ has experience.”
“With his victimology going as low as 16 now, it should be someone who looks the part,” Reid replied.
“She’s just a kid, Hotch.” Morgan reached his hand toward your shoulder, but you gently nudged it away.
“But I’m not a kid at all,” you spoke up. “I have two degrees and the same job as the rest of you. I know I’m young and look younger, but I’m qualified. If my appearance can be used to put this guy away, then let me help. Let me do my job.” You looked up at Hotch, a sudden confidence flowing through your veins. “What do you need me to do?”
-------
For the rest of the day, the team helped you prepare for your role as a 22-year-old college student. The team strategized and planned, desperate to ensure your safety. Everyone added their two cents, but you were happy to receive all the insight you were given. You weren’t going to screw this up for them.
You, Hotch, Prentiss, and Morgan returned to the hotel to pick among your belongings to dress the part. Rossi, Reid, and JJ stayed behind with Garcia to set up intel at the station.
“The shorts you wore to bed,” Hotch began, “go put those on while we find a sweatshirt or jacket. In fact, wear the shirt you wore, too. The size could conceal the mic better.”
You nodded and grabbed your things before heading into the bathroom. It was not lost on you that your boss was thoroughly aware of your pajama situation, but due to the pivotal role you were to perform, it was easier to focus on the task at hand.
You returned from the bathroom where Emily greeted you with the mic. You lifted your arms, allowing Emily to snake the mic underneath your shirt, securing it to your sternum with sports tape. While doing so, Hotch and Morgan returned with a single sweatshirt in Morgan’s hand. It was grungy and old, not quite the goal aesthetic.
Still, Morgan handed it to you to try on. The three profilers evaluated your look.
“This isn’t gonna work,” Morgan said. Prentiss pinched her eyebrows together in dismay. Hotch stayed staring.
“Take off the sweatshirt,” Hotch ordered. “I think I have something better.”
You did as he said while he rummaged through his duffle bag. He pulled out a quarter zip of excellent quality, something he only wears on a successful plane ride home.
“Put it on.”
You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions. It was a large fit, hanging just above the hem of your shorts and the sleeves landing at your fingertips. The three of them looked at you, then to their reference photos, then back at you. Something was missing.
“Call Reid. Maybe he can find any other similarity we’re missing,” Hotch said.
“No, I got it.” You remembered the notes you made earlier that morning. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair up into a high ponytail. “Now, what do you think?”
“That’s it,” Morgan said.
“And just in time,” Emily noted, “We gotta get you to the college fast.”
On the ride to the school, Hotch reiterated the goals in place.
“All you need to do is walk across campus using the roads. Keep to yourself, and most importantly, do not—and I mean it—do NOT, get into the vehicle under any circumstances. Stall him, flirt with him, do anything you can to keep him in place. We’ll be right there. Got it?”
“Yes, sir. I got it.”
“We’re counting on you.”
“Good luck.” Prentiss smiled with seriousness behind her eyes.
Morgan grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. “Be smart, kiddo.”
You returned a small smile and left the van to venture on your walk.
------
You had to have walked the streets for at least an hour. The campus was massive, larger than any school you attended. You did as you were told and kept to yourself. The sun had long since set, so there was no warmth to guard you from the biting breeze. A car or two passed periodically, but none slowed down beside you. There was a peace in the solitude. One could chalk it up to the calm before the storm, but you weren’t afraid.
Another car passed, but this time it slowed down. Your heart stopped and landed in your throat.
“Excuse me,” the man called out. The voice was unforgettable. The very same voice that threatened to kill the girl over the phone. The voice that replayed in your mind for hours. You knew it was him.
You turned to face him, trying to commit every detail to memory. He was a conventionally attractive man with lighter hair and a smile that you would have swooned over under any other circumstance. He wore a white polo and jeans and drove a two-door black convertible with the top down.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m looking for a party my buddy’s throwing, but I don’t go here.”
“I’ll say you don’t,” you chuckled as you walked closer. “Your car must cost my tuition!”
The man grinned. “You like? I could take you for a spin. But I’ll have you know; I like to go fast.”
“Mmmm, top-down, wind in my hair,”—you inched closer still, to feign some sort of interest— “but don’t you have a party you’re missing?”
“Well, if you show me where to go, maybe I’ll consider you my plus one.” He winked.
“Now, do I look like the partying type to you?” You laughed and rested your arms on his car door.
Without another word, he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you into the driver’s seat. You screamed at the top of your lungs. You tried to fight him from your disadvantaged position, but he was stronger, quicker. He forced you into the passenger seat as he wailed punch after punch into your jaw.
“Nice. Girls. Don’t. Scream!” he yelled. He punctuated his words with one final blow to the head. And as you drifted out of consciousness, you weren’t sure if the roof was closing above you or if the sky was turning black.
------
The sound of fireworks stirred you from your unconsciousness. Lights of reds and blues lit the night sky. You smiled at the serenity of the celebration. You didn’t want to go, but the strong hands beneath you lifted you away. You were much too tired to argue, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The faint words “stay with me” echoed in your mind, and if staying meant remaining in the comfort of the person who held you, you’d be content to stay there forever.
------
You woke up to blinding white lights. This must be heaven you assumed. You blinked through the searing lights and realized it wasn’t heaven at all. You were in a hospital. The sheets, the gown, the blinking monitors, and a small TV playing all clouded your senses. You reached up to rub your head, but someone was holding your hand.
Hotch moved with you, stirring him out of his strained slumber. He had pulled a chair to your bed, his head resting next to your knee. He lifted his head and looked up at you, an urgency deep within his eyes.
“How are you feeling?” He didn’t let go of your hand.
“I—uhhh—Hotch, what’s goin’ on?” You found your breathing quickening at the sound of your slurred speech, the confusion becoming too much to handle.
“You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok. The doctor said they want to keep you overnight, but the team’s on their way.”
“No, no.” You pulled your hand away. “They can’t see me like this. You can’t see me like this! I’m not put together. I—I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I can’t feel my arms. Are my hands shaking? I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!”
Hotch all but jumped at your ramblings, his eyebrows raised in shock. Before he could answer you burst into tears.
“Hotch, I’m gonna be sick,” you said through your convulsions.
Hotch jumped up in search of a bucket. He grabbed the trashcan at the corner of the room and brought it to you just in time. Tears streamed down your face as you threw up into the trashcan. Hotch held your hair back and gently rubbed your back.
Your nausea subsided, but your panic remained. Hotch sat on the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped him with all your might, desperate for the shakes to go away.
“You're alright. You're safe, ok? I think the medicine is messing with you a little. Take some deep breaths for me. I need you to relax, ok?”
You tried to take breaths at the pace Hotch set. Hotch’s hand combed through your hair as he tried to soothe you. Eventually, you were able to cool off. Hotch gently rested you back on your pillow. “Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little, ok? I think you’ll feel better when you wake up.”
You nodded, your face still wet from the tears. You repositioned yourself and fell asleep within moments.
When you woke up again, your mind was your own. Your head was pounding, and your body ached. You allowed yourself to adjust to your environment before searching for Hotch. There he sat by your bed, talking to a nurse. You cleared your throat effortfully. Hotch stood and approached you.
“How are you?”
“Everything hurts.”
“They’re giving you ibuprofen now. It seems like you were reacting to the morphine poorly.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“Not at all,” Hotch said seriously. “Do you remember what I told you? That they want to keep you overnight?”
“That does ring a bell,” you said as you rubbed your head. “Is the team here?”
“They are. I told them to wait outside until you were ready.”
“Oh, ok.” You thought for a moment. “Hotch?”
“Yes?”
“Can—Can you tell me what happened? Like, did we win? Is everyone ok?”
Hotch chuckled, but his eyes appeared sad. “Everyone is fine. We got him. Are you sure you want to talk about this now? Why don’t we wait until you—”
“Hotch. Please.”
Hotch sighed and took a moment to think. “Well, we knew we were looking for an expensive convertible thanks to you.” He smiled. “So, we began our search as you spoke. But then, we all heard you scream.”
You flinched at the word, your memory of the gruesome event beginning to reassemble.
“Of course, it was full speed at that point. He had you, and we weren’t going to lose you. We cornered him on a dead-end road just outside of campus. We didn’t let him get far. Prentiss shot out one of his tires, so he started running. Prentiss and Morgan ran for him, and I ran to you.”
He paused. He looked away as his bottom lip trembled. He took a deep breath in as he settled into his natural professionalism again.
“We had EMT on standby, so we were able to get here quickly.”
You nodded, realizing it was Hotch who carried you out. The fireworks, the lights, the “stay with me”, the reality of it all crashed in on you in the form of a shudder.
“It was you?” you asked.
Hotch knit his eyebrows together and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“You pulled me out. I felt you. I think I heard you.”
“Someone had to make sure you were ok.”
The fact that it was Hotch warmed your heart. Still, a question lingered in your mind. “Is he still alive?”
Hotch shook his head no.
“Mm,” was all you could say in response. There was no room for emotion. No time to process an opinion. You were just glad it was over. “What time is it?”
Hotch checked his watch. “It’s 2:43.”
“In the morning? Sir, with all good intentions, go to bed. Go tell the team to—”
Just behind Hotch, you caught a glimpse of Spencer in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” he asked.
You smiled and nodded. Spencer peeked his head back out and in a loud whisper said, “It’s clear! Go, go, go!”
The rest of the team hustled into the room and crowded around your bed. One by one, greetings and gentle hugs made their rounds, and your smile grew bigger and bigger.
“It’s a party now,” you said, a giggle bubbling out of your throat.
“Oh, she’s got the right idea,” JJ said as she sat close to you on the bed. She carefully moved a strand of hair from your face.
Prentiss laughed. “All we need now is some good music, a dance floor, and some drinks.”
The room filled with a few laughs and overall agreement.
“Too bad you all aren’t even supposed to be here,” Hotch said, slightly scolding the team. “It’s probably time for you all to call it a night.”
“Aw, Hotch, just a few minutes?” Garcia asked.
“We’ll be quiet!” Reid said.
Everyone looked at Hotch expectantly. You looked around at your teammates. They all were begging for a couple more minutes with you. That alone allowed your pain to subside.
Hotch sighed. “Just a couple more minutes.” A small smile formed on his face.
Everyone crowded around the bed, content murmurs and chatter filling the room again.
“Now be honest, guys. How bad do I look?” You shot them all a cheesy smile to sell it.
A few of them chuckled at your antics.
“I think you’ll be back to dating in no time,” Prentiss joked. “Guys love a badass scar.”
“Yeah, ’cause she was dating before,” JJ teased as she played with your hair.
“Shut up!” you giggled, coughing a little.
“I’ll get you water.” Hotch shot up and walked off.
“I’ll go with him,” Rossi said, sighing.
A seriousness enveloped the room. Derek was the first to speak up. “You know, you really scared us today, kiddo. Not to get all big brother on you, but it was tough seeing Hotch carrying you like that. Just limp.”
“And imagine how Hotch must have felt,” Reid said.
You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
Just then Hotch and Rossi returned with your water.
“Drink,” he said, his arm outstretched. You grabbed the water from him, your fingers overlapping his. The memory of his hands shot through your spine. His frantic begging for you to stay with him, much more panicked than you remembered the phrase.
Imagine how Hotch must have felt.
“It’s getting late,” Rossi said.
The rest of the team grumbled and said their goodbyes. Hotch allowed the rest of the team to go, lingering in the room with you.
“If you need me to stay, I’d be happy to do so.”
“You need sleep, sir.”
“I’ll sleep on the plane,” he said as if it was nothing to him. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I can let you be. We can be here early to pick you up.”
You thought for a moment. You didn’t want him to go, just in case. “Would you be willing to stay?”
“It’s why I offered.”
You felt your lip begin to tremble, the brave face for the rest of the team beginning to fade. “Hotch?”
“What can I do?”
“Well, I just… Can I use your phone? I think my mom should know I’m alright.”
“Of course.” He handed you his phone. “I’ll wait right outside for you.”
When the phone call was finished, Hotch returned and sat down in the chair.
“If you’re going to stay, I at least want you comfortable,” you said.
“The chair is fine,” Hotch said, taking his coat off for the first time today. “Get some sleep.”
You scooted to the side of your bed. “Here. At least sit up here where there’s some cushion.”
He didn’t respond right away. You knew you could convince him.
“I promise I’ll sleep,” you continued. “I’d be up worrying about your discomfort otherwise.”
Hotch sighed and stood up. “Only because I want you to sleep.”
He sat in the space you made for him at your feet. He stretched his legs alongside yours and rested his back against the footboard of the hospital bed.
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you curled up on your side. The comfort in knowing that he was there to take care of you was enough to send you off to sleep in minutes.
“Goodnight, Hotch.”
“Goodnight.”
------
You woke up to something you had never seen before. Hotch was asleep at the foot of your bed, resting his head against your shins. A hand was placed just below your knee as if he planned to protect you in his sleep. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him. He didn’t look cross or serious. He was calm and relaxed. You smiled to yourself. You had to fight the urge to return his touch. You knew the moment he woke up he’d return to his professional senses, and you weren’t quite ready for this moment to be over.
The doctor walked in to check on you, stirring him awake, anyway.
“I’m clearing you. Take these twice a day. Your jaw is going to be sore for a couple weeks, so work up to crunchy and chewy foods. And please, no strenuous activity for at least a full week.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you said, taking the bottle of pills.
“Thank you,” Hotch said. He stood up from your bed as the doctor left. He threw his jacket on and fixed his hair in the window’s reflection.
You sat up and swung your legs off the bed. Hotch spun around and met you at your side.
“How can I help?”
You chuckled. “I think I can stand on my own.”
His eyes shared signs of concern and disbelief. Still, he took a small step back and allowed you to gather your bearings. Standing on your own, you closed the small gap between you. You began to become painstakingly aware of your attire being only a hospital gown and rubber socks.
“You got it?” Hotch asked, his arms out like you were a baby taking your first steps.
“Mmhmm,” you said. “Are my clothes here?”
“Yes, let me grab them for you.” He rushed to the corner of the room where your clothes had been neatly folded, including his sweater. He handed them all to you, his hands brushing against yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he stood over you. You looked up at him. His eyes returned your gaze, though you weren’t able to read him. His chest rose and fell as if his breathing was slow and deliberate.
“I’m going to call the team,” Hotch said, his voice low. “Do you—do you need help with anything before I do?”
All you could do was shake your head no on instinct, your eyes not leaving his. He stayed still. His eyes scanned you like he was contemplating something. He backed up carefully and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.
“Wait,” you said.
He froze.
You felt your face redden as you worked up the courage to continue. “Could—could you untie the top for me? My shoulder—”
“You don’t have to explain,” he said softly as he inched forward again. “Turn around.”
You did as you were told. He brushed your hair over your shoulder and began to work on the knot. His calloused fingers feathered your skin. His warm breath betrayed you as chills ran down your spine. He untied the knot, allowing cool air to reach the back of your now-open gown. Hotch turned to leave.
“Be careful,” he said at the door. “If you need me, knock on the glass.”
You nodded.
He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.
------
The drive from the hospital to the hotel rendered the air stale. Hotch had insisted on helping you out of the hospital and into the car. But he didn’t speak. He drove while you sat in the back seat. Every once in a while, you’d catch him checking on you in the rear-view mirror, only to direct his attention back to the road.
When you returned to the hotel, Hotch stopped you from leaving the car.
“I’ll grab your things. You stay here.”
“I can get my things just fine.”
“Your bag is heavy. Doctor’s orders. No strenuous activity. Stay here.”
You huffed and sat back in your seat as Hotch closed the door for you.
The plane ride was the same: silent. Hotch sat opposite you as if he refused to allow you to leave his sight. But he kept to himself all the same. The others rested or played their card games, but you stayed put, almost waiting for Hotch to make his next move. He didn’t speak the entire flight.
Upon your return, Hotch dismissed the rest of the team.
“Thank you for the hard work this weekend. Rest up, and I will see you all Monday.”
You all headed out to leave, but Hotch stopped you. “Let me take you home,” he said.
You sighed. “Is driving a strenuous task now?”
“It’s late, and I’m not asking,” he said, returning your attitude.
You followed him to his car. He carried both his and your bag and placed them in the backseat before joining you up front.
Again, not a word was spoken between the two of you. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was as if the trip never happened, as if the distance between you never closed. The babying was the worst of all. You were sure he was seeing you as the rest of the team did now, incapable, fragile, only a child.
Hotch walked you up to your apartment. He waited for you to open your door, placing your bag directly inside.
“Well,” you began, “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”
He stood in your doorway for a moment, something on his mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? Is there anything else you think you may need before I go?”
“Hotch, what is all this?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
You tried to maintain your sanity, but the anger had bubbled into your throat. “All this, this, this coddling! You’re treating me like I’m fragile or, or useless!”
“Do I have to remind you that you were in the hospital this morning?” Hotch asked, aggravation coating his throat.
“I don’t need this from you, too, ok? The rest of them, I can take it, but you were different! I thought you were different.”
Hotch closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”
“Have you not noticed that all of them treat me like I’m a child? Derek literally calls me kiddo, and the girls act like I’m some innocent girl fresh out of high school. Reid and JJ are five years older than me. That’s it! Rossi, forget it. I’m like a grandchild to him at this point. But you, you never belittled me. So, what is this? Did I fail you? I’d rather you just tell me than refuse to speak to me.”
“I – you didn’t fail me. How could you think that?”
“You couldn’t even look at me after the hospital.”
Hotch’s face turned a light shade of pink, his eyes leaving yours for only a moment. “We were successful because of you. But you got hurt. I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all.”
You thought for a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I thought we were—I thought maybe there was something—”
“Please,” Hotch interrupted, “don’t say anything you might regret.” He took a step back.
“Are you saying I’m imagining this? That I imagined this morning?”
“No, no, no. We’re not doing this.”
“The coffee, the book put away neatly,”
“I would do that for anyone.”
“What about when you stormed out yesterday? When we were going over the file on your bed.” Your voice started to shake.
“That’s when I—I realized we had to use you.” He looked down, almost ashamed.
Your heart pounded in your chest, fear that you’ve outed yourself and maybe you were more delusional than you thought.
“This morning…” you said.
“You asked for my help, and I helped you. Just like I’m happy to do for you now if you need. Look, it’s late, and you’ve gone through a lot.”
“Then what did Reid mean?”
Hotch looked back up at you. He looked nervous, something you may have never seen in his eyes before. “What do you mean?”
“He said imagine how you must have felt when you found me. What did he mean by that if it doesn’t mean you care about me?”
“Of course, I care about you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to you. “I almost lost you! And when I found you, I thought you were gone. You were lifeless. So, forgive me for wanting to be careful with you, because I refuse to let that happen again. I refuse to lose you again.”
You looked at him in shock.
He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. Listen, the only reason you’re feeling anything for me is because it’s me you woke up to. Nothing more. If Reid or Morgan found you, the same thing would happen with them.”
“Do not chalk this up to some damsel in distress situation,” you said a little too boldly. “The whole team knows I have a thing for you.”
Now Hotch was in shock. He shook his head. “It’s not me you want.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
“I know you’re desperate for romance in your life because you either don’t make time for it in real life or were burned so bad in the past, that you gave it up entirely.”
“Hotch, don’t you dare profile me right now.”
“I know you have a rocky relationship with men in general, rooted in your relationship with your father.”
“Stop it, now.”
“You refuse to associate with him in any way. You don’t even allow us to call you by your last name. He views you differently from your sisters for some reason, and you hate him for it.”
“Hotch, I swear to god—”
“You mocked him for giving good advice, and you flinched when I brought up getting beers with him. He’s an alcoholic, isn’t he?”
“So, what, honestly? Literally who cares if he drinks? He gets mean, so what? What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot have?”
“But he’s not just mean, is he?”
The air in your lungs got caught in your throat.
“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s how he treats you differently.”
“That’s enough,” you said, your voice cold.
Hotch stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with both hands. You shuddered in his grasp. “You don’t want me, ok? I can’t fix what you’ve gone through. I can’t even protect you at work. Do you know the guilt I feel for what happened to you? I’m the one who got you hurt. And now I have to live with that. What makes you think that I can be what you need if I can’t even keep you safe here?”
You closed what little space was left between you. You looked up at him, your face only inches from his. “Stop telling me what I want. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. You’re not going to push me away like this.”
Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. His chest heaved up and down, and his eyes darkened. “This is wrong. I’m your superior. This isn’t appropriate.”
“If you truly don’t want me, I’ll stop. We’ll go back to how things were. But you have to say you don’t want me.”
His grip on your shoulders strengthened, his touch burning into your skin. His now wild eyes scanned you as if he couldn’t have fathomed this happening. A lump formed in your throat as you waited for him to find the words. Instead, he pulled you flush against him and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was raw and desperate, rougher than your healing jaw could take, but you couldn’t care less. He wrapped his arms around your back and gripped your hair as if it was instinctual. Your breathing hitched, causing you to moan into his mouth.
He pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I need you to tell me this is ok.”
“This is ok,” you said, breathless.
“Good,” Hotch said, “because I don’t want to stop.”
A smirk formed on your face. You grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him closer to you. “Then I think you need to take this off.”
You dropped the tie and kissed him as he took his coat off. Your mouth wandered to his jaw. Hotch let out a groan.
“Your room. Now.”
His words sent chills down your spine. You took his hand and led him to your room. You turned around and watched Hotch remove his tie, sliding it through his collar. His eyes stayed on yours, his already dark eyes now almost black with desire. The moment his tie came off, he was back on you, kissing you like his life depended on it. His hands wandered to your ass and lifted you up, his lips never leaving your skin. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bed.
Hotch laid you down, now hovering over you. His lips drifted from yours down to your neck.
“Seeing you in this had me thinking horrible things,” Hotch confessed, slightly pulling on the quarter zip you were still wearing.
You blushed. “Really?” you asked, a smug smile growing on your face. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”
“Was it really that obvious?” Hotch asked, his large hands finding their way under your shirt.
You couldn’t even answer as his hands ventured up to your chest. His hands pulled a moan from your mouth.
“Take this off,” Hotch said as he pulled the hem of your shirt.
“You, first.”
Hotch’s eyebrows raised as if surprised by your reply. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. You practically drooled at the sight of him shirtless. You could only assume he was fit when he rolled up his sleeves or manhandled unsubs, but this was all the confirmation you needed.
“Your turn,” he said.
You did as you were told, revealing yourself to him.
“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed as he kissed your chest.
You fought off a moan. You couldn’t believe this was happening. This was only something you pictured in your wildest dreams, and here he was in the flesh.
“I wanted this for so long,” you found yourself saying out loud.
“Me, too,” he agreed. “You have no idea how much I thought about this.”
Your cheeks flushed red. He began leaving marks past your breasts, down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.
“Can I take these off?” Hotch asked.
You nodded.
“Use your words, honey.”
Your stomach did a flip hearing the phrase. “Yes, sir. Take them off.”
He all but growled in response. He pulled at your shorts, taking them off in a swift motion.
“So much for no strenuous activities,” you joked.
“I can be gentle,” Hotch said as he settled in between your legs. “Let me take care of you.”
Your head fell back onto your pillow. You knew you were in for it.
Hotch spread your legs apart, the stretch enough for you to arch into his touch.
A smirk graced his lips, and without another word, he licked into your core. His mouth against you was like a gift from God, something you had only hoped could feel so good. You couldn’t help but squirm against him, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, if at all possible. He placed a hand on your stomach to keep you still. You could feel him smile against you, turning you on even more.
“Hotch,” you breathed out. You were close faster than you had ever been.
“Say my name,” he said as he placed a finger inside you.
“A-Aaron,” you choked out, the new sensation too much to handle. He filled you with another finger, his hitting the spot your fingers never could.
“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop. Please.” Your breathing quickened, and as he pumped his fingers in and out, you felt the coil in your stomach snap, expletives and his name leaving your lips. Hotch continued to pump you as you rode your high, a daze overtaking you.
When you caught your breath, you pulled Hotch back up for a kiss, your hands finding their way to his belt.
Hotch’s hands stopped yours. You looked up at him, confused.
“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.
“I want this if you do. Do you?” you asked.
“I really do,” he said. “I need to feel you.”  
You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Then please let me help you.”
He released your hands and kissed your forehead as you unbuckled his belt. The moment felt ironically wholesome until you pulled at his dress pants. You couldn’t help but gawk at his cock springing free. You were suddenly nervous, not quite sure it would fit after all this time practically revirginizing. If your jaw weren’t so sore, you’d have him in your mouth without a second thought.
“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as if he could hear your thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Hotch hovered over you and kissed your lips softly. You returned the kiss and nodded.
Hotch lined himself up with your entrance and carefully pushed in. He and you both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you something you hadn’t experienced in years.
“Jesus Christ. You’re so, this isn’t your first time, is it?”
“No, no,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just been a while. Just, just go slow, ok?”
Hotch nodded and started to move. He rested his forehead on yours, sighs and pants escaping both of your lips.
“Can I kiss you?” Hotch asked.
You chuckled at his question. “We’re a little past that, aren’t we?”
Hotch smiled as he placed his lips on yours, much more tender than before. He moved a stray hair from your face and cupped your cheek with the utmost gentility. The urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. Everything had culminated to this moment, and neither of you wanted to waste it.
Still, the need for more overtook you. “Aaron,” you said, your hips bucking up into his.
“What do you need? I need you to tell me.”
“Faster, please,” you said.
His pace quickened, one hand still around you. He used the other to stabilize himself, allowing you to view the tension in his muscles. You bit back a moan as the pressure inside you built.
“Don’t hold back,” Hotch said. “Let me hear you.”
He slammed into you, a smirk growing on his face as your breath caught in your throat.
“Just like that!” you blurted out.
He did just that, slamming into you again and again.
“Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Hotch said, his voice almost shaking.
“I’m close, too. Please don’t stop,” you begged.
He pounded into you harder and faster, no longer a rhythm but a motive, a goal to achieve.
“Come for me, honey. I’ve got you. Just come for me.”
You clenched around him as you came, all but screaming his name. His pace didn’t let up as you rode your orgasm, your legs trembling around him.
“Oh, god. I’m gonna, where do I—”
“Chest!”
He pulled out and came on your chest, making the most attractive groans you had ever heard in your life. You watched in awe, absolute shock overtaking you. Never in your wildest dreams did you picture this. And for the love of god, you hoped this wasn’t the last time this happened.
Hotch crawled over you, still catching his breath, and captured your lips in a kiss.
“How are you feeling?” Hotch asked. “Is your head ok?”
“I’m good,” you said smiling at his return to his overprotective self. “I’m really good. I promise.”
Hotch rested his forehead on yours then kissed you, the tenderness returning.
“I like when you do that,” you said, your cheeks reddening.
“Me, too,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“You don’t have to help, if you don’t want to.”
“What, and miss showering with you?” Hotch smiled. “Just lead the way.”
In the shower, the two of you washed up, and you couldn’t knock the smile from your face if you tried, until you thought about showing up to work Monday morning.
“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked.
“The team’s gonna know,” you said.
Hotch thought for a moment. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, well, I wouldn’t have done it in this order, but would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”
You blushed, despite the state you were both in. “Are you asking me on a date?”
Hotch smiled. “I’m asking you on a date, yes. I have to be honest, though, I’m out of practice.”
“If tonight was you out of practice, I think tomorrow will go just fine.”
Hotch laughed and kissed you again, something you hoped would never fade in your memory.
************
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taro-bae · 1 month ago
Text
Twisted Wonderland - Third Years
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Summary: reacting to you falling asleep in their room
Characters: Third Years
CW/Notes: gn!reader, fluff, Slight Book 7 Spoilers! (Malleus's part), mostly written as platonic but its up to the reader
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Trey Clover
Trey makes it to his dorm room after a hustling day of classes and vice-warden duties. He's ready to just sit down and relax his muscles for the afternoon. As soon as he steps inside his room, he recognises a familiar figure lying in his spacious bed on his clover plush. Trey smirks a little amused by your choice of sleeping space. He makes sure the lights are off making his way towards you. He shifts your body to put the blanket covers over you.
Trey is like the older brother of Heartslabyul. He has younger siblings and knows how to take responsibility for others. Taking off his dorm Uniform hat and jacket, he settles at a respectful distance away from you, just resting his eyes with a hand behind his head. He watches you as you stir awake. "Sleep well, sleepyhead?" Trey says with a teasing smirk looking at your slightly dishevelled appearance.
Cater Diamond
After the unbirthday party, Cater returns, eyes locked on his phone as he edits and goes through all the photos he has taken during the day. He walks into the room, still looking down at his phone until he notices a silhouette hugging his smily plushie. Cater immediately goes to his camera, tip toeing towards the bed.
He takes multiple photos thinking just how cute you look with your cheek flushed and soft against the pillow. Cater hovers over you to snap different angles and profiles. "Aww, such a cutie~" Their cheeks look so soft, " He thinks in his head, trying not to wake you up. He reaches over to poke your cheek, snapping a picture at the same time. Minutes later, you are on Magicam for everyone to see, and Cater has no shame. There are plenty hashtags describing just how cute he thinks you like #sleepingbeauty #cutiepatootie #sweetcheeks
Leona Kingscholar
Leona is not pleased. Leona did sense you before even making it into his room by your scent. He scowls, seeing the person lying in his bed. "Stupid herbivore" His tail swishing behind him in annoyance. "Oi, wake up" Leona says bluntly, standing over you. When you refuse to get out and won't budge he lets out a frustrated sigh. "Move over. Now".
Leona slumps over on the bed, spreding his limbs out. He doesn't care at this point. He shifts over, pulling you into his body. "Since ya not gonna listen, you'll be my pillow," He says in a gruff voice. His tail is thumping against the mattress, but he likes how comfortable this is. He will never admit it, though. Leona has a sense of pride that you're not afraid to be near him, let alone dare fall asleep in his room. "Not a word or ya out. I need my nap". He's out within seconds.
Rook Hunt
Rook already knew you were in his room. Most likely, it was his works doing, a set up to get you into his room. Being a hunter, he knows exactly what's happening were and he keeps his diligent eyes on you. Rook returns to his room, where you sleep with an adoring look on his face. "Such a darling, Mon ange ♡" He's absolutely mesmerised by your beauty and peaceful, vulnerable state. He sees beauty in everything. To him, you're like a work of art in itself.
Rook watches over your sleeping face and body. The way your body rises with each breath to the small movement of your face. He takes in every detail. At some point, he takes out his phone to snap a few photos of you. He's so stealthy you'll never know he did. Just be warned you'll end up on his secret wall behind the wallpaper in his room. He's a questionable one.
Vil Schoenheit
The last thing Vil expects is to find someone in his room when he returns. Let alone finding someone in his bed, that's just unacceptable. He lets out a small cough before he speaks, "Wake up this instant." Vil makes his way across the room. "You mustn't sleep in such attire, and sevens forbid in my bed. One must always wear clean pyjamas and do a proper skin and hair routine prior. Which you clearly have not done."
Vil would scold you and point out your eyebags or tired look, warning about the consequences of overworking yourself. You have no choice but to follow through with his routine as he applies beauty products on your face and hair. If you complied well, he might just let you stay and rest up. "Very well...I'll permit you to stay. But don't make a habit out of this. " His voice is authorative, but without a bite to it. Vil actually secretly enjoys pampering you with some self-care and sharing his knowledge.
Idia Shroud
What was he doing out of his room in the first place? Who knows. When Idia comes back, it's an instant panic and internal turmoil. He nearly yelled but slapped his hands over his mouth. "What are they doing here! This can't be happening IRL! What do I do? They'll be mad if I wake them up!" He is slouched over, fiddling with his hoodie string, trying to decide what to do. His heart is pounding in his chest, the phrase "why me? Why my room?" Running through his head at a hundred miles per hour.
He can't help but stare at you, a small smile tugging at his blue lips. "No, stop! That's creepy. Cringe behaviour. They'll think you are a creep!" Idia snaps himself out of the trance but can't bring himself to wake you up. He huddles over near his desk, distracting himself with a game occasionally glancing at you sleeping with the ends of his hair pink.
Malleus Draconia
Malleus is surprised to find anyone in his room. He appears looming over the sleeping form eyes slightly widened as he observes your state. Malleus is rather glad that you're here, making his room seem less lonely. He is pleased that you are not afraid of him and comfortable enough to sleep not only in his room but remain asleep in his presence.
Malleus ensures the room suits your comfort, moving the blankets over you. "You're an interesting cause, child of man. A truly endearing sight." Malleus watches over you, ensuring you only have pleasing dreams and a deserved rest. After a short passing of time, He starts humming a melody. A lullaby.
"My eyes are watching over you still, let’s be together. With no fear, even if we wake from this dream"
His low voice echoes through the room, sensing you into a deeper sleep. That guaranteed would be the best sleep of your life.
Lilia Vanrouge
His room is a mess stuffed with artefacts and the most random things. Lilia finds you tired and fast asleep in his room. He sees this as a perfect opportunity to give you a little scare. Hanging off the ceiling, he yells out a "boo!" Causing you to wake up. "Khee hee," he plays it off by acting cute. "Fu-fu~ look at you all worn out, little one." Lilia doesn't miss a chance to tease you.
His red eyes sparkle with mischief. "Oh, I'm just messing around. Go back to sleep, I'll watch over you~" Says the man who just woke you up for giggles. Once you're off to sleep again, Lilias caring side steps in. He ensures you are safe and well rested, letting you sleep in his room, even on him, as he pats your head affectionately. Lilia is very parental and will guard your sleep from any nightmares.
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spencerreidenjoyer · 4 months ago
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insatiable | spencer reid x reader
Spencer learns how amazing sex is with you, but gets caught up with work. You show your boyfriend how good it can feel even if you’re not together physically, and he shows you how much he misses you when he gets back.
part 1 - addicted to you | part 2
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wc: 4.6k, rating: 18+/explicit
tags/warnings: established relationship, phone sex/video sex, mutual masturbation, public (bathroom) sex, brief mentions of typical BAU stuff (not in detail), meeting the family (literally reader meets the BAU), brief mentions of alcohol, making out, vaginal sex, getting caught (not in the act but afterward lmao)
a/n: this is what an insane person does when they're sick for two days and have nothing better to do over the summer. this is a second part to addicted to you (you don't have to read the first part but it does provide some context for some details within the fic), with inspiration taken from a lovely comment I got on ao3 that made me feel kinda crazy. i included some textfic elements in this fic as well which i hope reads well (bold text is spencer)! also I know early seasons spencer technically sets this around 2005-2007 but they have smartphones and video calling (aka present day) so please suspend your disbelief for the length of this fic lmao (p.s this fic is also on ao3!)
Your boyfriend gets whisked away for work sooner than you expect. Spencer’s supposed to have time off the rest of this week, but you suppose killers aren’t exactly respectful of an FBI agent’s time off of work. It’s downright cruel when he’s called in to work on a Friday evening, when you have dinner and wine set at the table, having gotten ready to spend a quiet, romantic evening in with Spencer. 
“I’m so sorry,” he says, rushing to change out of his sweatshirt and joggers into his typical work attire. You stand in the doorway of his room, mildly amused while Spencer panics to put an outfit together. “I know you had a whole evening in planned, but–”
“Don’t be, baby,” you assure him. “You have a killer to catch. Oh, that one– the blue cardigan looks good with those pants. It matches your socks.”
Spencer smiles as he looks up at you, reaching for the navy blue cardigan to his left. He tugs it on rather hurriedly, comes up to you and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the best. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
You shake your head. “Just find the bastard quick and come home to me.”
“I know. I will,” Spencer says.
After the both of you found out just how much Spencer liked fucking you, you were really hoping that your weekend together could be spent in his bed, but duty calls. Technically, JJ had called him in, but you’re not concerned about specifics right now.  
You spend the evening alone in Spencer’s apartment, half of the wine finished and his TV playing reruns of some show you haven’t been paying attention to. Your eyelids feel heavy, and Spencer’s bed is so comfortable you can’t bring yourself to leave it. That is, until your phone buzzes on Spencer’s nightstand, and you’re suddenly very alert.
I miss you, darling. > hey, i’m surprised you have the down time to text. i miss you too I’m really sorry I had to leave so suddenly. We’re on the jet right now.  > i told you it’s okay! i’m surprised the jet has wifi lol Taxpayer money, I guess? We land in LA in a couple of hours and we’re heading straight to the PD to work on the case. > my poor boyfriend is working so hard instead of cuddling me in bed :( How you tempt me, lovely. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Are you going to sleep soon? It’s late. > yeah i’m staying at yours for the night and maybe until you get back? really miss you already Okay, that’s good. I know. I’ll call when I’m in the hotel and settled for the day? :-( > yes please. also stop sending emojis with noses they aren’t supposed to look like that!!! They aren’t anatomically correct without them. The way you send them > babe they’re emojis it’s ok if they’re not anatomically correct Hahaha I love you. > lol i love you too! Goodnight, love. > goodnight spence <3 <3
You can imagine, especially from the way Spencer recounts it, how his coworker Derek must be teasing him about smiling at his phone, about how pretty boy’s lucky lady must be one hell of a woman to get Spencer so smitten. 
You would say you’re rather independent, especially in relationships, but Spencer has you acting like a clingy girlfriend. You can’t help but feel an ache in your chest as you long for him while he’s away, feeling like a military wife whose husband is out instead of being normal. To be fair, being with Spencer has never been “normal” – he always has something interesting up his sleeve, or some quirk that makes you even more enamoured with him. 
Your Saturday is relatively uneventful, milling about Spencer’s apartment. You laze around in bed for way too long, enough where Spencer would’ve definitely hauled you out of bed himself an hour ago if he were here. You make yourself breakfast, unsurprised that Spencer only has cereal in his pantry and almond milk in his fridge. You sit down with one of his very sophisticated literature books but you don’t get very far with it, and opt to clean Spencer’s apartment instead. 
It’s when you’re sweeping the floor that you realise just how much you like Spencer, feeling so strongly attached to him already. You’ve said your ‘I love you’s, given him his firsts. You were staying in his apartment even while he was away– hell, you’re even cleaning his apartment for him. 
Just for a moment, you let yourself fantasise about this being your apartment – yours and Spencer’s; about waking up to him every morning, about making breakfast for the both of you that isn’t cereal and almond milk, about coming home to each other instead of an empty apartment. 
You sigh and get back to cleaning.
You’re settled into his bed, surrounded by the comforting scent of him when Spencer finally does call. You almost drop your phone in your excitement to pick up. 
“Hey! Hi, Spence,” you say, unable to help the smile that’s forming on your face. 
“Hello, love,” Spencer answers. He sounds a little tired. You can imagine the little furrow in his brow, obviously exhausted and dissatisfied from a full day’s work of catching some bastard in LA, and you wish you could be there to kiss his frown away. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Spencer. Long day?”
“Absolutely,” Spencer sighs tiredly. “This UnSub is so slippery. No convictions, no paper trail, nothing, and he’s killing every other–” Spencer starts to ramble but he catches himself. “Sorry. I won’t talk about work right now. It’s pretty grim.”
“It’s okay,” you hum. “Do you want to talk about work right now?”
Spencer makes a little noise. “No, no. I don’t want to bring that to you. Let’s talk about you. How are you, honey?”
Honey. The name makes your insides feel all gooey, soft and warm and lovely. “I’m- I’m okay. I stayed at your place, cleaned up around here. I’m thankful it’s not as much of a man cave as I thought.”
Spencer laughs through the phone, a breathy chuckle. “Thank you for cleaning up for me, love. It’s just a lot of nerdy stuff, huh?”
“Yeah. It’s endearing. I tried to read one of your books earlier and could barely get past the first ten pages.” You tell him, garnering another chuckle from Spencer. “I like your place a lot.”
“I miss you,” Spencer says again. “Waking up to you and having you around is so much nicer than this dingy hotel room I’m in.”
“Aw. Taxpayer money couldn’t upgrade you to a better room?” 
Spencer snorts. “No, but I lucked out on getting the room all to myself.”
There’s a pause as you figure out what to say, and Spencer is quick to follow up, “I didn’t mean–”
“Does this have something to do with you missing me, baby?” You can’t help but grin. Spencer makes a distressed little noise over the line.
“Well, I– Maybe, but we don’t have to–” Spencer stammers, unable to find the words. He’s absolutely adorable. 
“I want to, Spence,” you coo. “I miss you so much.”
You hear Spencer exhale shakily. “What– What do I do?”
“A genius like you hasn’t forgotten how to touch himself, has he?” you tease, Spencer whining on the other end at your words. “Does that eidetic memory of yours come with an overactive imagination too?”
“Surprisingly, no. Hyperphantasia is more of being able to visualise different types of situations in one’s mind, and that’s what usually is associated with an overactive imagination. Having an eidetic memory is more about high-precision recall after seeing something even just once. I think having an eidetic memory pretty much ensures you don’t have aphantasia, or the inability to see and create mental images, but yeah.”
Ah, even his nerdy ramblings turn you on. 
“So does that mean you can recall the way I looked in bed a few nights ago?” you prod, and you wish you could see how red Spencer must be by now.
“Well, yes. Of course I can. How could I ever forget how beautiful you looked then?” Spencer’s words are sweet, earnest, and you melt. 
“Then picture that,” you barely get the words out because you’re so smitten. “Imagine I’m right there with you, Spencer.”
You hear the rustling of the sheets, and Spencer’s little telltale whine as he wraps his hand around himself. “O-Oh–”
“I miss you, Spence,” you drawl. “Miss the way your cock fits inside me. You miss my tight cunt, baby?”
“Your mouth is filthy,” Spencer laughs breathily. “But yeah, I do. You always feel so good around me.”
“You’re touching yourself, yeah?” you ask. You get a little whine from him as an affirmative, but your imagination is running wild – you want to see him. “Can you show me?”
“Yeah, I just– Do you wanna switch it over to a video call? I can’t–”
You laugh at your boyfriend’s lack of technical prowess, tapping at your phone screen until the top half of his face comes up. “Hey, I’m just trying to find a good angle–”
“Don’t just flip the camera and show me your dick, please. That would be so unsexy.” You say.
Spencer furrows his brows. “I was not planning on doing that, for the record.” 
You watch the phone move until Spencer comes into frame, the phone likely propped up at the foot of the bed and exposing all of Spencer to you. You might be drooling right now.
“This is… a lot,” Spencer laughs nervously. “I feel so naked.”
“You’re mostly clothed,” you quip. 
“Ha ha,” Spencer laughs dryly. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before.”
“Phone sex? Or calling your girlfriend so you can jerk off for her?” 
Spencer gives you a deadpan look. “Both, honey.”
You grin. “I’m glad to be your first. Now, show me how you make yourself feel good, baby.”
Spencer’s cheeks are a gorgeous rosy red when he takes his cock into his hand again, his tip leaking as he strokes himself slowly. With his eyes fluttering shut, Spencer’s lips part as he indulges himself in his pleasure. Like this, you indulge yourself in admiring all of Spencer – the flush on his cheeks that runs down to his neck, his breathy panting as he touches himself to the thought of you.
“Spence,” you sigh. “You’re so pretty.”
His eyes shutter open as he looks at you, somehow even redder than he already was. “You’re the pretty one, darling. Are you– Will you touch yourself for me?”
You hold back your moan as you nod. You were already in your underwear when you had slid into Spencer’s bed, but now all it takes is you sliding your fingers past the waistband to feel how wet you already are between your legs. “Oh, Spence.”
“Do you feel good, love?” he hums, voice only a little bit strained from his immense pleasure. 
The embarrassingly loud squelch that results when you sink your fingers into yourself is enough of an answer. Spencer grins, and you’re red in the face as you rock your hips down onto your own fingers. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything, honey,” Spencer laughs. “But I wish I could feel you right now.”
“I know, I miss the way you feel inside me,” you pant. “Please, Spencer–”
“Take off your underwear,” Spencer’s voice is breathy as he pleads with you. “I want to see you.”
You prop your phone up so your angle matches Spencer’s, both of you on full display for each other. You watch the way Spencer’s eyes widen when you slide your panties off, the way his eyes are trained on your figure through the screen. He says, “You’re so wet…”
“All for you, baby,” you sigh, leaning back as you slide two fingers back into yourself. You scissor them rather hastily, craving the hurried way Spencer fucks you. “It’s not the same without you here.”
“I know,” Spencer hums. “You look so good like that. I wish I could make you feel good right now.”
You moan, pushing your fingers into yourself deeper, barely hitting where Spencer reaches easily. The squelch from between your legs is obscene. “You do, baby. You’re making me feel so good, just thinking about you.” 
In practically a whisper, Spencer admits, “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
You let out a weak cry, impossibly turned on by your boyfriend’s filthy admission because you didn’t even think he had it in him to say it so bluntly. You slide your fingers in and out hurriedly, your palm giving you the friction on your clit that you crave so desperately. “Spencer–”
Spencer lets out a strangled cry, muffled behind his hand, when he comes. It’s sudden, Spencer’s load painting the soft skin of his stomach, his cock twitching. You moan as you follow suit, wetness drenching your hand as you ride out your own orgasm, imagining his cock inside of you. 
“Oh, fuck.” Spencer gasps, head thrown back as you watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes heavily. His forehead and neck are covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his cock out against the rest of his rather soft, innocent looking outfit is making you giggle just a little.
“You look really hot right now,” you say instead, wishing you could be laying next to him while he recovers.
“I think I should be saying that about you,” Spencer laughs. “You’re gorgeous. You’re so stunning.”
“How long are you going to be away?” You pout. “I like it when I can actually kiss you after you compliment me.”
Spencer smiles sympathetically. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”
“I’ll take phone sex with my boyfriend as a consolation, then.” You wink, making Spencer laugh. 
“Remind me not to get too loud, though. I think Emily is in the room next to me and I really hope these walls are thick enough.” He says, sounding vaguely concerned.
You laugh, and stay on the line a little longer just to relish in a peaceful moment with Spencer.
The next day, when you’re out getting groceries to stock up Spencer’s fridge, you get a text from Spencer.
I don’t know how much Emily heard last night, but she’s been looking at me funny all morning. > lol oops? If we call again tonight, we might have to keep it down.  > if? not when? :) I love you so much. > i know and i love you too :) and you should probably apologise to emily about last night Well, if we’re calling again tonight then maybe I should just give her one big apology when all of this is over. > good idea. now go catch your killer so we can go back to having sex irl Okay!
Unfortunately, Spencer gets too busy to call you again that night, the team working overtime to catch their UnSub, whose kills were escalating exponentially. You don’t find yourself bothered by it, by Spencer disappearing for the night with nothing more than a message sent your way, instead relishing in the fact that it’ll feel even more rewarding when he comes home. 
You’ve never felt this way before, craving Spencer so desperately while he’s away at work. While you’ve only been together a couple of months, you respect that Spencer’s work takes up a lot of his time. It doesn’t mean you don’t miss him, though, as much as you enjoy your alone time.
All of the team’s hard work pays off, though, because they’re storming into the UnSub’s lair by Monday afternoon, and Spencer texts you when you’re just clocking out of the office.
Great news! We caught the guy. We’re packing up at the PD and coming home soon. > omg!!! that’s so great The team wants to go out for celebratory drinks.  > you should totally go ahead and celebrate with them spence! you guys worked your asses off on this case We did. But I’m telling you because I want you to join us. I want you to meet the team too.  > oh? i would love to but are you sure they want me there? Of course, sweet girl. Derek wants to know who has me smiling at my phone half the time, and Emily is asking who I’m calling in the middle of the night. > omg so she did hear you … I think so, love. > … i will apologise to her tonight then I’ll send you the address. Love you > love you too spence <3
There’s just enough time for you to get home and change into a nice outfit – a tight, red dress that hits your mid-thigh, your hair curled and your makeup touched-up before you head to the bar Spencer’s sent you the address to. While you know Spencer’s team is lovely, you do want to make a good first impression.
You see Spencer’s gangly form at the bar when you get there, the rest of his team facing away from you as they get their drinks. You see Spencer’s face brighten as he spots you, raising his hand and waving to you excitedly. The rest of his team notices, and turns to look at you too. You would be shy at all the attention, but Spencer’s unabashed adoration of you, especially in front of all his friends, is giving you more than enough confidence to walk up to the group.
“Hello,” you smile, and the warmth you feel from the team makes you feel welcome already. “It’s nice to meet you all.”
You shake hands with Hotch and Rossi as you introduce yourself. While you had heard of Hotch as a rather cold, serious Unit Chief, the way he warmly smiles at you makes you feel at ease. “So, you’re Spencer’s girlfriend. It’s great to finally meet you.”
“It’s great to meet you too, sir,” you answer rather instinctively, making both Rossi and Hotch laugh heartily. 
“Aaron might be Reid’s boss, but he certainly isn’t yours,” Rossi chuckles. 
Before you can feel embarrassed by it, you get pulled into a tight, warm hug by Penelope, and when she lets you go, JJ hands you a drink, and Derek and Emily are regarding you with knowing smirks. 
“Reid, you are one lucky man,” Derek says, after pulling you into a welcoming hug. “Don’t mess this up, lover boy.”
“I know,” Spencer says, his hand reaching for yours. You lace your fingers with Spencer’s, squeezing his hand comfortingly. “And I won’t mess this up.”
“Lover boy is right, considering what I overheard the other night,” Emily says, looking at you and Spencer pointedly. JJ also has a knowing smile on her face, and you feel your cheeks get hot.
“I’m really sorry about that, Emily,” you smile sheepishly. “I hope Spencer’s apologised for it too.”
“Again, I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Spencer says, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Emily. “I would say ‘We won’t do it again’, but…”
You shriek amidst the laughter of Spencer’s coworkers, Spencer laughing along as he holds onto your waist. You feel adored, so readily welcomed by Spencer’s friends, and you feel like you belong, by Spencer’s side.
After you chat with the rest of the team for a little more, they eventually disperse to do their own things, leaving you and Spencer alone. Spencer looks at you with such adoration in his eyes and you feel like you’re going to melt. “Hi,” he says warmly.
“Hi, Spence,” you say. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Spencer smiles. “But I’m here now.”
“You are,” you breathe, giddy with excitement, and lean in to kiss him. It’s a quick peck, but Spencer pulls you back in like you’re the air he needs to breathe. He kisses you deep, eager, pouring every drop of himself into you. His hands cup your face sweetly, kissing you until you feel breathless. 
“Oh my God, Spencer,” you giggle when he finally pulls back, eyes wild as he regards you. “You really missed me, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Spencer laughs. 
“Do we need to pretend to keep our hands off each other or do you just want to go and make out in the bathroom?” You say simply. You don’t expect Spencer to be down, considering how quickly he’d rattle off the statistics about the germs in a public bathroom, but Spencer smiles at you and pulls you toward the single stall.
You’re thankful it’s a relatively big, clean-looking single stall bathroom, Spencer locking the door behind you as you lean back against the sink. Spencer’s taller figure crowds you in with ease, and you feel swallowed up by him as he kisses you again. He’s desperate, eager as his tongue slips into your mouth, his little noises so deliciously sinful as you kiss him back.
“Spence–” you gasp, in between kissing Spencer back. “Oh, baby–”
“What we did over the phone wasn’t enough,” he murmurs, eyes unblinking as he gazes at you. “I need you right now.”
Sure enough, Spencer’s hard in his pants. He pushes his hips forward, pressing his erection against your thigh. You whimper, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “Please, Spence. You can take me right here, right now.”
You feel just as desperate as Spencer seems, his hands eager as they roam up your body. He’s eager to touch and squeeze and grope whatever he can get his hands on, and you relish in the way his large, sturdy hands grab your thighs, your waist, your breasts.
“You look so good tonight, my love,” Spencer grunts as he presses his face to your neck, his lips kissing up the column of your neck hurriedly. “So gorgeous. Letting me show you off to all my friends too– Thank you, you’re so perfect–”
“Spencer,” you gasp, hand sliding down to rub at his hard-on. You’re so turned on by how aroused Spencer is already, from just kissing you, from just touching you. “Fuck me, please?”
Spencer exhales shakily, lifting you up slightly so you can sit back on the countertop, your legs spread to accommodate Spencer between them. You’re soaked through your underwear, and you watch Spencer marvel at the sight. His hands are shaking slightly as he undoes his belt, pushing his pants down just enough to get his cock out. He’s hard and heavy and leaking, and you find yourself drooling as he strokes himself momentarily.
Spencer’s biting his lower lip in utter concentration, pushing your dress up and out of the way. You expect his hands to slide your panties off, but instead his fingers push the fabric aside, revealing your slick, wet entrance that he presses the head of his cock to. “Oh–”
“Like this,” Spencer says, breathless, his sentence not even fully coherent but you understand, especially when Spencer pushes the tip of his cock into you. You muffle a sob into your hand, feeling so on edge as you accommodate Spencer’s length. 
The burn is perfect, the slow drag of his cock inside of you teetering between pain and pleasure. It’s a primal urge the both of you desperately need to fulfil, and the way he presses into you satiates you so perfectly. Your arms slung around Spencer’s neck, you cry out weakly as he rocks his hips into you, already brutal and hurried with the pace. 
You’ve never felt this undone, so desperate that you’d let yourself get fucked in a bathroom stall. You barely have any alcohol in your system, for you to feel reckless enough to do something like this. Hell, Spencer hadn’t even taken your panties off before he’d started fucking you. The fact that prim and proper Spencer of all people is making you like this makes your head spin. 
“Oh, fuck, baby,” you whimper into his shoulder. “So good, Spence, oh–”
“You feel so good,” Spencer groans, hips stuttering as he tells you just that. “You’re so perfect. I love you.”
“I love you so much,” you hiccup, feeling Spencer drill into you, the muffled slap of his thrusts hitting the back of your thighs. You’re so overwhelmed, pleasure zipping through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, as Spencer fucks you like you’re the only person in the world that matters right now. 
“I’m close,” Spencer gasps, pace growing uneven, hurried, as he chases his pleasure while trying so hard to make you feel good too. “Please, I–”
You cry out as your orgasm hits you, too sudden, too quick. You clench around Spencer as your body shakes, Spencer fucking you through it with desperation. You don’t expect to come so quickly, but you suppose missing Spencer has an effect on you. 
You squelch obscenely with your release as Spencer continues to fuck you, needy and hurried, moaning in your ear as he stumbles into his orgasm too, wracking through his body like he has no control over it. You feel his load spill inside of you, hot and messy, his hands trembling as his thrusts slow.
“Oh, fuck,” you say, laughing slightly. “Holy shit, Spencer. We just had sex in a public bathroom, this is crazy.”
“We just had sex in a public bathroom,” Spencer echoes, sounding mildly panicked. “Oh, my God.”
“It was very fucking hot.” You assure him, holding his face in your hands to look him in the eyes, stopping him from overthinking. “But we should probably go home, because I’m a fucking mess between my legs right now.”
“I might need to take a shower,” Spencer says, his voice wavering slightly. “The sink is technically the most germ-ridden surface in a public bathroom, the damp environment makes it a–”
“Spencer, I love you so much, but for your sake and mine, let’s not talk about germs right now.” You shudder at the thought. “I think I need to take a shower after that too.”
“Let me clean you up, and we can go home.” Spencer, despite his germ anxieties, is rather sweet in cleaning you up. Your panties are ruined with fluids, and you’re starting to feel Spencer’s load trickling out of you when you stand back up, but you relish in the fact that you’re going to be back at his apartment soon enough. 
(The fact that Spencer hadn’t corrected you when you called his place home, makes your heart sing.)
You clean up your makeup and make your hair look as presentable as it can be, especially after your boyfriend has literally fucked you in a public bathroom, and when you both look presentable enough, you try to slip out of the bathroom casually.
Unfortunately, Derek and Emily are right there, catching you in the act of leaving, obviously noting the way you and Spencer look absolutely dishevelled. 
Derek raises his eyebrows, grinning. “Damn, lover boy.”
“Shut up,” Spencer retaliates weakly, his voice slightly shaky. 
“We’re heading home first,” you say with all the confidence you can muster, trying very hard not to feel extremely embarrassed in front of Spencer’s very smug friends. You’re still holding Spencer’s hand, and you feel a little less afraid. “It was fun getting to meet you guys.”
Emily shakes her head playfully, smiling. “We’d love to hang out more with you another time. Maybe when Reid isn’t so desperate to get alone with you?”
Spencer makes a displeased noise, but you smile and nod at her. “Definitely.”
Derek and Emily let you slip out of the bar without saying much else, and you hope that the rest of Spencer’s team doesn’t hear about it. 
As you and Spencer step out of the bar and into the cool, evening air, you kiss his cheek once more. “I love you. Now, let’s get home so we can shower. And then we can have sex again in the comfort of your bed?”
Spencer grins, any earlier embarrassment seeming to melt away. “That sounds perfect. God, I love you.”
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kissitbttr · 1 year ago
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a very tired miguel who gets home from work and gets babied by his woman
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It's close to 9pm as you're lying on your bed. keeping your focus on the book you're reading, one that you failed to keep as a part of your routine due to your busy schedule with work. being a fashion designer has it's perks but it also has its dark sides too. especially when it comes to dealing with snobby ass clients
as you are about to flip to another page, you hear the front door opened. keys rattling against the ceramic bowl with a loud sigh follows after. a soft smile appears on your face soon as you realize who it is
“miguel? Is that you?” you softly call out your husband’s name while putting the book down.
"si, mi amor" he appears shortly by the doorway. your tall and handsome fiancee adorned in an unbuttoned white shirt that showcase a bit of his chest and paired with black trousers. a simple work attire but never fail to make your knees wobble. the sight could put any Greek Gods known to a man to shame.
your heart breaks a little seeing how tired he looks. his eye-bags are coming off too strong. a constant reminder on how he has been working himself far too hard despite you telling him to take it easy. but that's just how he is, stubborn.
"how's work my love?" you ask, watching him undress himself, revealing his exposed toned chest before putting the clothes away with the rest of his dirty ones in the bathroom. "I take it, it wasn't a good day?"
"you could say that" he replies tiredly, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the chair and slipping it on. "trying to get ahold with the new recruits is a fucking job, Peter's been getting on my nerves and I'm working on advancing the technology we have right now in order for it to be easier to identify every single anomaly's DNA we've come across to. But the amount of hypotheses and research I've done are nowhere near close to how I want them to be."
"i would ask Tony Stark for help but que cabron esta muerto" he breathes out a sigh, pinching the thick skin between his brows. "I'm drained, mi amor... i can't fucking do this shit everytime--"
"no hey.. stop" you shake your head, hate having to see your man fronting a distressed look in his face. “come here, Miggy” you pout at him patting your chest for him to lay his head,
he sighs heavily. plopping into the bed and carefully lays himself on top of you. pounding head finding comfort in the warmth of your chest, snaking his big arms around your waist.
you put your arms around him, locking him tightly as your soft lips kiss his forehead making him purr.
“my pretty baby. exhausted aren't you? hm?” you ask in a cooing tone. he hums -- which sounded like a growl to you-- with a nod before nuzzling himself closer. “oh my poor poor baby... my handsome man. always working himself to the bone” another kiss on the forehead
“come up a little closer, hm?” you ask as he barely shifts his body. too lazy and far too comfortable in your arms like this for him to move.
you run your fingers through his soft hair, moving a piece that’s covering his forehead. looking down to see him close his eyes, yet not sleeping.
it’s so funny to see how this freakishly large- broad man who always seems to bring a cold presence that scares everyone off at work—which is technically true— then turns into a huge softie and a love puddle for you in a split seconds.
it’s truly a privilege that you’re the only one who gets to see and feel this
“look how cute you are, baby… do you know how cute you are, hm?” you coo at him, lips kissing his nose and the sharpness of his cheekbone. trying your best to console him in hopes of washing his stress away.
he lightly shakes his head. “no” a curt reply rolls of his mouth, drawing your body closer to him if that's even possible.
you pretend to gasp dramatically at his answer. fingers still stroking his hair lightly. “you don’t?! oh no! we have to fix that! you’re the cutest *kiss* most handsome *kiss* hardworking *kiss* man I’ve ever known” showering him with compliments in between kisses. he breathes out a small chuckle that muffles against your chest.
it’s obvious that miguel rarely gets treatments like this, he’s no one to shy from things but you're his only exception. the only person who truly can get him blush like a little kid when he's shown the slightest bit of affection.
“who’s baby are you hm? are you my baby?” a smile graces your lips as your eyes casting down to his pretty features.
“me. I’m your baby” he mumbles, tightening his grip around you. "always be your baby"
-
inspired by @webslingingslasher their frat!peter work yall is making me [REDACTED] please go take a look!!
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pedgito · 5 months ago
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𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘 | Joel Miller x reader
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summary | you've got an issue and joel's willing to solve it. after all, what are neighbors for?
author's note | this was a prompt from a meet-weird thing i saw ages ago that was originally supposed to be javi, but jo (@undercoverpena) gave me the beautiful idea of making it joel and it spurred this monster.
content warning | established friendship, caught during sex, does the apocalypse having working appliances? probably not, but for the sake of this fic distend belief i beg. oral (eating out from the back), unprotected piv, subtly cocky!joel miller, he's a good ass neighbor, okay?, unbeta'd.
word count — 5.6k
Joel’s fixed this damn machine seven times, convincing himself every time that it was the last time. Shocker, it wasn’t. This time didn’t even last a month. He’s desperate now.
He would usually haul the load all the way to the communal laundry house closer to the group of joined townhomes that housed most of the younger adults—the spry and bright-faced ones who sprung up at the mention of patrol or work, any prospect of toting a gun around with any sense of leadership. They were eager, he couldn’t say the same for himself.
He was old, weathered—years of routine he had created to get the job done and get the hell home.
And truthfully, as he tapped the wrench against the metal machine, chin tucked into his palm as he scratched at his beard, he almost complied with the idea that he would just have to tough it out. Scrounging for parts was nearly impossible—dumb luck, really. In the past several years they’ve picked this town clean, bone-dry.
He’s elbow deep inside the barrel of the dryer when he hears the knock at his door, bumping his head against the rim of it as he exits and cursing under his breath as he pushes to stand, joints creaking and popping in disapproval. 
He can smell you before he sees you, the familiar scent of fresh-baked goods following you everywhere—Joel couldn’t feel guilt for being one of the folks addicted to your cooking. 
Grains had been hard to come by since the epidemic hit, everything was tainted on a global level. It took years and years of Jackson growing its own stock of wheat for things like pie or a nice, gooey cinnamon roll to even be plausible anymore. But, they were managing well so far.
“Saved ‘em for you and Ellie,” You tell him, a small plate of still hot brownies covered with parchment paper, dawning that trademark smile that Joel has come to love, tapping his fingers against the door frame as he passes the plate off to a quickly approaching Ellie.
“Girl’s got the nose of a basset hound,” Joel looks on in amused bewilderment as Ellie throws a mouth-stuffed thanks over her shoulder, “sorry ‘bout her.”
You wave her off whole-heartedly, taking in his sweaty appearance and casual attire. You were used to him in jeans and thick flannels, not a graphic tee and pair of sleep pants. He’s almost always dressed like he had to run at a moment's notice, you weren’t even sure he owned anything different until now.
“Everything good?” You question him, a small laugh escaping your throat.
“Damn washer and dryer is out again,” Joel explains, throwing a hand vaguely over his shoulder.
“Both of them this time?” You ask, “Damn.”
“I can fix ‘em, just a matter of finding the right parts,” Joel tells you, “ looks like I’m gonna have to hand wash again.”
Joel was a friend. You helped friends. It seemed like a no-brainer really, opening your mouth without thinking it through, the kindness tumbling out despite yourself.
“Oh, you’re welcome to load yours up at mine,” You offer and Joel looks immediately apprehensive, the southern charm and well-mannered tone gearing to creep up on you.
“Now, I don’t mean to make you feel like you have to—”
“Joel, I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t feel comfortable with it,” You remind him, “seriously—anytime, just try and bring your own detergent—and for the love of god, empty your pockets before you put ‘em in.”
Joel chuckles tiredly at that, rolling his eyes as he nods in agreement.
“Got it, of course, sweetheart.”
“I leave an extra key under the rug, so if I’m ever not home just come in,” Given that Joel was Tommy’s brother, you knew he wouldn’t be up to any trouble, “sound good?”
“Yep. Anytime—just make myself at home.” Joel confirms and you nod with an even wider smile, waving a pleasant goodbye as you trailed down the stairs and made your way to the house you inhabited next door.
Right, anytime.
Unfortunately, Joel took that a little too literally.
-
Joel managed to scrounge up the courage a day later, tumbling into his house on tired legs after a lengthy patrol up at the cabin lookout, scooping the basket up in his arms and heading out his front door, taking the short walk to your house.
The lights were off, but that wasn’t unusual. Joel knew you liked to stay late nights in the town’s mess hall, often working on prep for the following morning to make the load a little lighter and sleep in a while longer, so when he fishes under the doormat for the key he thinks nothing of it.
And as the door swings open, it is still fairly quiet. Though, he can hear your own dryer running upstairs. He’s got the layout down too, having shared more than a few nightcaps with you. Friend to friend and nothing more, even if you had always felt a little more strongly toward being affectionate. A hug or a kiss on the cheek from time to time, he never pushed you away. Joel never seemed like the type of man who openly showed affection, even toward a friend. But, he was good, reliable–most of the time.
He reaches the stairs with trepidation as the sounds grow louder and part of him wonders if by some uncanny coincidence your dryer might be growling and rumbling on its own final leg. 
The moment his hand reaches that doorknob and turns he realizes he’s made a mistake.
He’s caught you at a…bad time. Head thrown back with your mouth hung wide, whatever noise you’re making was mostly drowned out by the nagging sound of the dryer as it tore through the spin cycle but he hears the tailend of it, a soft moan of pleasure from the man who’s buried inside of you right now, both of you naked from the waist down but your breasts on full display with your shirt tucked under your neck.
“Benny?” Joel asks, slightly amused.
You lift your head at the sound and spot him, your feet nearly slipping out from under you as you scramble to push Benny away, who perks with an even more perplexed, “Joel?”
“Goddamn it, Joel,” You curse behind gritted teeth, furiously readjusting yourself, pulling your sweats back on and over your ass and your shirt down, “What are you doing here?”
Joel looks down at the basket still clinging to his hip before back up at you, wordlessly.
You sigh through your nose with a tight lipped frown, cheeks puffing out as you brushed your fingers through your hair and down—Benny was still scrambling to redress behind you, unable to pull his gaze away from Joel.
“Benny?” Joel mouths at you quietly, eyebrows raised curiously.
You walk toward the now open door slowly as Benny buttons his pants and you shoot Joel daggers with your stern gaze.
Cut it out.
Joel smirks slightly, cheek dimpling with the action as he side-steps Benny, who leans around you and kisses your cheek—it was a kind gesture but given the situation, in horrible taste. You force a polite smile and once Benny is a far enough distance you hit Joel firmly in the arm as he passes by you and into the laundry room.
You walk Benny to the door with a million thoughts racing through your head, offering a distracted goodbye before you’re locking the door and racing back upstairs with determined footsteps and Joel has already loaded his clothes in the washer, turning the knob to set the load size and time.
“Benny?” He echoes his earlier questions, “Really?”
“What? Are you judging me?”
“No—just, that kid’s had quite an obsession with you for some time now. Just…surprised is all.”
Your lips pull together in a disapproving but nonchalant frown, taking his words for the bullshit they are.
“When I said anytime that did not extend to the middle of the night, Joel.”
“You’re usually still at work,” He supplies—and really, he’s not wrong, “M’sorry. I mean that.”
“Well, now I’ve gotta deal with the fact you’ve seen me naked,” You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the doorframe and Joel’s eyes track you for a moment, smiling with amusement at the thought.
“What? You want a fair trade?” Joel teases, “‘Cause, darlin’. I don’t mind—but it was an accident. Besides, ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”
He means it in a broader sense, but you can’t help the eye roll it induces. 
“No, no,” You chew at your bottom lip, watching Joel place the empty basket on top of the washer, “I can finish that up if you want to get some sleep. I know you had a long patrol today.”
“Oh, did you?”
He’s teasing you.
“Don’t push it, old man,” Joel shakes his head at that jab and chuckles, “Ellie clued me in when she picked up some sandwiches for her and Dina earlier.
He’s not going to pass on the offer, though. He nods, rubbing a hand over his tired face.
“Jesus—just…Benny?” Joel reiterates again, “Didn’t think the kid had it in ‘em.”
“Out,” You say with an over-pronunciation as you drag his slow and progressive steps further out of your laundry room and into the hall, “or you’re off my dessert list for a month, Miller.”
Joel smiles at you knowingly, “You wouldn’t dare,” He retorts, knowing you too well.
You wouldn’t make him suffer like that. Or Ellie, who wouldn’t hesitate to murder Joel if he robbed her of that pleasure. Not literally…but, she would carry a few choice words for him.
“Seriously, though, thank you,” He nods, leaning down to press a kiss into the crown of your head—an often familiar gesture when you parted after a long night of nonsensical talk and a couple glasses of wine or whiskey, depending on how hard the day had been, “I appreciate it, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, yeah—”
“And I do apologize for…not knocking and showin’ up at such a weird time.”
You shrug, “You’re forgiven. Just…don’t give Benny a hard time. He’s a good guy.”
“You’ve got my word, darlin’.”
Joel was determined to be on his best behavior, clearly.
-
It takes Joel a couple weeks to find the parts he needs and luckily there are no more run-ins on your midnight sex-scapades, still feeling the embarrassment from the first one. Joel doesn’t even seem to remember it after a couple days, thankfully. He was bypassing it for your own benefit, truthfully. And you knew that.
Selfishly, you're glad to have your appliances back to yourself. 
They’re good, solid, reliable—until they aren’t.
Your washer shits itself mid-load and you can hear it from downstairs. A loud screeching noise before an even louder pop that has you groaning loudly because you know. You can feel it.
You can’t even bring yourself to go check, peering through the window of your kitchen and catching a fresh pot of coffee in the house across from yours, a man coming into view and his stark white shirt contrasting the black coffee cup in his hands. He catches you out of the corner of his eye and looks at you with a quizzical amusement, smile tugging at his face.
Joel was always up before the sun rose, so with the sun just creeping into the sky you’re sure that’s his third or fourth cup of coffee. He reaches over his sink and fiddles with the latch on his window before heaving it up, watching as you struggled to do that same but eventually managed.
“You run outta coffee again?” He asks, sipping at the bitter, black coffee in his mug.
“No,” You reply quickly, slightly exasperated as you chew at your bottom lip, debating how to pop the question and feeling nervous under Joel’s intense gaze, curiously wondering if he’s still picturing you naked. He’s never explicitly mentioned it since, but you have caught him in the act.
Wandering eyes, gazes catching when your back is turned for half a second as you bend down or move in a way that exposes too much skin.
“My washer broke,” You cut to the chase and Joel chuckles at how comical it is, in hindsight.
Was this karma? It was definitely karma. 
You’ve never asked Joel for anything—despite your often bouts of kindness toward him you never expected anything in return, not even a favor.
“Doors open,” Joel nods toward his front door out of view, an invitation like you offered him.
You didn’t even hesitate, pushing the window close and bounding up the stairs.
-
You’re already loading your things into his washer before he appears around the corner, peeking his head in, coffee cup still in hand as he takes a few more steps and leans against the wall beside the washing machine and your eyes glance at him briefly before you continue moving the clothes, watching him watch you from behind the rim of his mug.
“I can start them and come back,” You tell him, “so I won’t be lingering around here all day.”
“No Benny?”
You stand up as you close the washer, deadpan stare pointed in his direction.
“You can be such a nosy neighbor, you know that?”
Joel shrugs, a smug smile covered behind his sip of coffee.
“It was just a few times. Besides he’s…too much for me.”
You turn the dial to start the load and it rumbles to life with a simple press of a button.
“You wanna talk about it?”
It wasn’t completely unnatural for you two—you knew quite a bit about Joel now: his life before, his work, his daughter…all things that come with trust and time. He’s waited patiently for you and you’ve given him peeks into your life, but nothing like this.
“It’s a long story, Joel.”
“Got time,” He smiles slightly, “I’ll go grab you a cup of coffee—sit down.”
You look around briefly, not a chair in sight. So, you raise yourself up just enough that you can slide your ass over the top of the washer, bare feet dangling off the floor and you wait, the subtle and quiet shake from the beginning of the load process keeping the awkward silence at bay.
Joel turns the corner a few minutes later with your cup, made up just to your liking and you nod with a gentle smile, taking the cup from his hand and allowing yourself a few generous sips.
“So—that night, you caught us,” You can laugh at the instances now, so you do in a soft, clipped manner, “it wasn’t the first—it had been a month by that point and he just caught me by surprise, showed up that night and things just got a little out of hand.”
Joel’s eyebrows raise in interest but he urges you to continue, leaning against the wall in front of you now, resting his mug on the shelf just above his head as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“He’s a good guy, don’t get me wrong—but I don’t do serious…I can’t, now with how things are. And I know a lot of people think the opposite, seize the moment and all that shit,” You sigh, a deep and heavy sound that expands and releases from your chest, “he was already talking about moving in, the idea of us having kids—so that night I just tried to distract him.”
“With sex? Seems a little���counter-productive, don’t you think?”
“Don’t judge me, Joel,” You warn him but it’s edged with a playfulness that Joel recognizes. You didn’t have a mean, deceptive bone in your body and Joel knew that from the first conversation he had with you.
“I needed him to shut up,” You groan at the thought of the conversation as it replays in your mind, “I’m trying to wash my clothes, he’s talking to me about babies. I do not want kids, Joel. Ever. At least none that are biologically mine. Who would want to bring a kid into this world?”
Well…Tommy. The thought comes to you after the words have already left your mouth and your heart sinks into your stomach, looking at Joel apologetically.
“Sweetheart, don’t even try to apologize. Ain’t nothing wrong with it.”
“It makes me sound horrible, I know but—”
“I’ve done my time—it’s none of my business how others choose to live. Besides, I’m pushing sixty, I don’t have to worry about all that…sorry, I’m not trying to be crude here.”
You nod knowingly with a smirk tugging at your lips, taking another sip of coffee before handing the mug off for him to place it next to his own, ready to slide off of the washer before Joel interjects with another question that catches you off guard.
“He treat you right, at least?”
You tilt your head with that same knowing smirk, pushing Joel away at his hip with your foot as he leans up from his position against the wall—Joel’s never flirted, always promptly skirted around the issue and went about it more gentlemanly. He’s not abrasive and straightforward like most of the men in Jackson, but damn did he know how to make you feel special.
Undivided attention, constant subtle compliments, giving up some much-needed sleep for a simple late night drink with you—part of you was too terrified to make your own move and make it clear just how badly you wanted just a small taste of him.
You’ve heard whispering, minimal talk from a few of the women in town. Joel didn’t often make his rounds but when he did, he left an impression. And you had every right to be jealous, because with him standing in front of you now—you knew it would be easy to say no and he would fix you right up, finally crossing that line that he’s been carefully dancing around for a few years.
“He’s a bit…timid,” You shrug, “and he doesn’t really…”
The air lingers and the side of Joel’s mouth pulls up—you don’t have to say it.
“Joel, don’t do that,” You shove at his shoulder as he approaches you, his hands pressing into the contraption you’re on, curled around the metal, “—he’s just…eager, but not in a good way.”
There’s a glint in Joel’s eye that leads you to believe he’s not thinking about Benny’s less than experienced sex life, feeling the sudden jitteriness from the coffee as your chest rises with a deep, shaky breath and Joel eyes the time over your shoulder.
Forty-five minutes and some change, plus the time to dry because Joel already knows you aren’t going to trouble yourself with walking the damp laundry through this cold, muggy weather.
“So, no then?” Joel asks.
He could have treated you better, sure. But, he wasn’t the worst.
But, the way Joel is staring at you knows makes everything and everyone dull in comparison.
You shake your head in agreement, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip as your hands fall to your lap, his hands ncreasingly closer to the tights covering your legs, suddenly feeling his thumb graze your hip. You both glance down at the action and your breathing halts, watching as his right hand slowly engulfs your thigh, fingers digging into the soft material and dimpling your skin underneath, his thumb only a few centimeters from dipping into the inside of your thigh.
They part on their own, welcoming Joel in wordlessly and his left hand echoes the other. His face is level with your own, staring down at your lips briefly before meeting your eyes and you’ve seen that look before—the adoration when he thought you weren’t watching, secretly you had become good at catching those glances, but Joel wasn’t trying to hide it now.
And it quickly dawns on you in the moment—he was jealous. Of Benny. Or really, any man that had come before him. But, he was using him as the scapegoat.
Honestly, you couldn’t even care.
“You want someone to treat you right?” He speaks softly and if you weren’t so close you wouldn’t have heard him, “I got you, sweetheart. I swear.”
He’s not looking at you anymore, eyes dragging down the bridge of your nose to your lips again. But, you are looking at him, flooded with that tricky feeling that creeps up on you when you want things you know you shouldn’t.
“Joel, I told you—I don’t do serious,” And you hold your breath for the response, wondering if that would send this moment crumbling to dust, but Joel doesn’t miss a step.
“Good for you,” Joel dotes, “neither do I.”
Then he’s on you, the press of his lips in a heated kiss sends you tumbling back, caught by the warm slide of his palm over your back to pull you in, throwing your arms over his shoulders as he pulls back briefly, just enough for you to open your mouth to speak, but his tongue finds its way inside and the words fade away.
Just friendly, my ass—you think.
If you had known he kissed like this—you would’ve jumped at the opportunity months ago; a night spent drinking too many glasses of wine and laughing over some movie far before your time, but not his. 
He was so entranced, giving you all the details, but you couldn’t help giggling over it, too touchy to be considered friendly.
You’d both cut it short quickly when Ellie popped in halfway through the movie, and beyond that, it never grew.
Until now.
“Sweet,” Joel notes with a subtle smile, his hand dwarfing the size of your neck as his fingers wrapped around the column of your throat, holding you firmly in place as he maneuvered you toward and away from the kiss as he pleased, swallowing every tiny moan that escaped your lips when his other hand squeezed at your thigh just a little too hard.
“All that sugar,” In your coffee, the taste lingering on your lips and he licks around them teasingly, pulling away briefly to look at you, your eyebrows raising in question as the gears turn in his head, “—you still with me?”
“I’m just wonderin’ if you’re okay with this,” Joel speaks candidly, his eyes trained on his thumb as it rubs against the middle of your throat, traveling up under your chin and tipping your head up slightly, watching as you swallowed, “before I take this further, jus’ need to know.”
You nod jerkily, not even a second of hesitation. 
“You would have known the moment you kissed me, Joel.”
In turn, Joel nods slowly before he speaks, stealing the air from your chest.
“Alright then, pull these down for me,” He tugs gently at the material clinging to your thighs before both of his hands find the spot behind your knees and tug until your feet hit the floor, “and push that pretty little ass out for me.”
The absurdity of this language on his tongue makes you giggle but abide in an instant, struggling slightly as the material bunches at your ankles and Joel helps you the rest of the way, tossing your pants aside before he’s kneeling despite how his body protests, too eager to give you a taste of the pleasure you deserve and he’s grabbing the cheeks of your ass and squeezing them between his hands before he’s leaning up to bite playful at the soft flesh.
He groans quietly against your skin, the press of his aquiline nose against your ass as his fingers fold around the string of your underwear and pull, dropping them down to your ankles and off and then his tongue is flat against the seam of your cunt, gasping as you fall forward and your own fingers clawing against nothing.
“Joel!” You squeak out as his fingers dig hard into your ass, forcing you up on your tiptoes as devours, licking into your cunt as it quivers around his tongue. 
Your hand pressed against the wall in front of you to keep your chest from hitting the washer, feeling your pussy tighten around the finger that enters alongside his expert tongue, a soft groan erupting out of him from behind you. That smug motherfucker was attempting a teasing huh under his breath as he busied himself with the task of eating you out from the back and you couldn’t even think straight. 
‘C’mon, baby,” He coos between his alternating licks and slurps of the heady slick that dripped from your cunt, “come all over my mouth, let me taste that sugar.”
It’s absurd, the way he’s speaking to you now. Your eyes squeeze shut as his thumb finds your clit amongst the chaos of his tongue and fingers, face heating up at how noisy your cunt sounded over the dull shake of the washer and Joel’s satisfied moans, occasionally massaging at the back of your thigh when your legs shake with the creeping feeling of your impending orgasm.
“Oh,” You squeal, reaching behind you to dig your fingers into his hair, panting out in desperation, “—fuck, don’t stop! Joel, right—right there,” and then glance you take back at him, his eyes peeking open from his position below, on his knees and dutiful to you and you alone, well…
It sends you tumbling over the edge as his thumb rubs over your clit quickly, soothing you through the aftermath as he laps up the mess you’ve made all over yourself, dragging his tongue along the inside of your thigh because if you knew anything about Joel, he didn’t waste a meal. 
And you were just about the finest he’s tasted.
You clear your throat as you rest your feet flat on the floor, feeling the faint quake in your legs as Joel rises slowly, forcing you to swallow down a giggle as he winces and he can see it on your face.
“Worth it,” He excuses himself, “don’t look at me like that.”
“No old man jokes?” You sound sad and Joel can’t believe it.
He shakes his head.
But, the smile that breaks out on your face quickly diminishes any comeback he has.
You begin to push him away with a hand gripped in his shirt, carefully avoiding the obvious bulge in his sweats as you reach for your tights, ready to redress and drop to your own knees as a favor but his fingers are wrapping around your wrist, pulling your attention back to him.
“I meant it,” Joel tells you, tilting his head to catch your gaze.
You smile wide and tilt your head to mirror him, “I think you proved your point—Benny is a pathetic man who doesn’t know how to make me come, blah blah…”
“My job ain’t done if you’re still thinkin’ about him, darlin’.”
His eyebrows raise in challenge.
Okay, you’re game.
Wordlessly you allow the hands at your hip that guide you toward the front of the joined appliances, his fingers sliding under your top until you get the hint to pull it off, your breasts bouncing free from the shirt—the few bras you had were already in the wash, big deal.
Joel chuckles and stops for a moment, admiring the sight of your breasts for the second time that month, albeit more openly this time. He reaches forward and rubs his thumb along your nipple, watching the nub harden under his touch and you bite at your bottom lip, eye fluttering closed at how sensitive they were to touch, something other men never took the time to notice.
“You like that?” Joel asks with a creeping grin.
You nod, watching as he squeezed your tits in his hands, showing your nipples ample attention as he circled them with his thumb before leaning down slightly and swiping his tongue over the hardened nubs, sucking your breast into his mouth and his eyes peer up, gauging your reaction which quickly developed from a soft giggle to a loud moan.
“Clothes,” You breath out, “off—if you still have a point to prove.”
A point that you wanted proven. Hard.
Joel pulls away and yanks his shirt over his head, allowing you an unobscured view of the mix of muscled shoulders and his softened stomach, running your hand over the patch of hair at the center of his chest and down, right along his hips until his own fingers hook around the fabric and pull his sweats and boxers down in one motion, his cock catching against the edge of his waistband before it bobs back up toward his stomach.
You find yourself smiling despite yourself, forgetting for a moment that Joel was standing there and watching you, feeling your mouth water at the sight of him hard and leaking at how just getting a small taste of you had turned him on that much, precum leaking slowly from the tip and he wraps his hand around himself, other hand tapping at your chin to drag your attention back up to his face, reminding you he was still there.
“Got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?”
You shake your head furiously, “No, no—no, nothing. Just, uh—”
“I’ll start slow,” He tells you and with the size of him, thick and girthy in ways you’ve only imagined or pictured in your head, it’s daunting, “are you still alright with all of this?”
Your face softens and you nod, appreciating the repeated check-ins, the need for confirmation, but it pulls at your heart as you wonder why he feels the need to ask so much. As if he was fearful you would change your mind on a dime—Joel was fine with that, but he was more worried about the change in dynamic. Thankfully, you were determined for that not to be the case.
“I’m pretty tough,” You shrug, a playful smile gracing your face.
Joel nods absently as his fingers drag along your waist before catching behind your knee and pulling it up over his hip, both of your eyes dragging down to his cock as he tugged at himself a few times, his brow furrowed as he spread your lips apart with the head, dipping his hips down slightly to catch against your hole before he pushes in slow, one solid stroke that steals the sound from your throat and transfers to his own. Joel groans out softly as he pushes into you, his hands gravitating toward your face and wrapping around the sides of your neck, tilting your head back to mouth at your skin, his tongue dragging along your collarbone before sucking and nipping gently at your skin.
“Don’t I know it,” Joel responds after a while, “find something to hold onto.”
Your soft giggle of excitement shoots down to your core and your fingers wrap around the edges of the washer and Joel pulls back swiftly before he’s snapping his hips back into you before repeating the process several times, the jolt of the machine hitting the concrete wall behind you drowned out by your loud moans, quickly swallowed up by Joel’s lips as he pulls your mouth to his, breathing into it with every sharp snap of his hips.
“Harder,” You beg, biting at his bottom lip as he groans, using his fingers intertwined into the hair at the nape of your neck now to pull your head back and he pulls his hips back quick, bottoming himself out inside of you so forcefully you feel like your legs might give out, his cock rubbing against your already too sensitive g-spot and continuously finding a way to bring you closer and closer to the edge, “fuck—yes, yes. Joel, oh my god—”
“Yeah,” Joel goads you, his eyes drawn closed as he tries to keep his own orgasm at bay, “give it to me, baby—wanna watch you make a mess on my cock, alright?”
Easy, you laugh airily and feel the instinctive squeeze of your walls around Joel’s cock as he pulls your face to his, foreheads pressed against each other as he angles his hips back and slams into you one last time before you come undone, head falling back in a similar position to how he caught you a few weeks ago, this time for him. 
Your grab for his shoulders suddenly, blunt fingernails digging into his skin and he takes a few harsh breaths through his nose before he’s pulling out, hand grasping his cock as he jerked himself a few seconds before he comes in thick, short spurts against your stomach, squeezing at the head of his cock as he drags it through the mess he’s made.
His expression is nothing short of mesmerizing, mouth hung open just enough that his tongue can drag over his bottom lip before his teeth are taking its place, eyes drawn to your skin.
Wordlessly, he pulls away on his own pair of shaky legs as he reaches for his wrinkled, worn shirt and brings it to your stomach, cleaning up the mess with a faint smile on his face.
“You know, I think it might take me a bit to fix my washer,” You tease, “so—I might be over here bothering you for a while.”
Joel peers up at you, his head still tucked down as he wiped at your stomach.
“Fine with me.”
Then he’s peering over your shoulder, watching as the washer time inched toward zero, dinging behind you. You turn around, letting your leg fall from his hip finally, ass brush against him in the process and Joel can’t help the way his eyes refuse to leave the sight of it.
Only feeling slightly guilty when you catch him this time, not giving him the pass you usually do.
“We’ve still got about an hour left if I dry them here,” You tell him, “anything else you wanna prove?”
Joel’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, eyes dragging up toward the upper level of his house before flicking back toward you, a smile plastered on your face.
“I can think of a few things.”
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divider creds: @/cafekitsune
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wheneclipsefalls · 4 months ago
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Little Gift - Latch
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Neteyam photo by @cinetrix
Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader
Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha
Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.
A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!
Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist
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You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.
Everything is perfect. 
Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures. 
The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.
You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out. 
His reward for all that he has had to endure. 
Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying. 
He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort. 
His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal. 
He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him. 
The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit. 
It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses. 
Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair. 
It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are. 
All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.
Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you. 
His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap. 
Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy. 
This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know. 
It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.
Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.
Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have. 
Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek. 
“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”
It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter. 
Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both. 
Later, he reminds himself.  
The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily. 
“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy. 
The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours. 
“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back. 
“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it. 
“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.
“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls. 
“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.” 
“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.” 
“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep. 
“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale. 
“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower. 
“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.” 
“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn. 
“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.” 
It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience. 
“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan. 
“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”
Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner. 
“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow. 
“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight. 
He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.
Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt. 
A sharp smirk cuts into his features. 
For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs. 
Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more. 
The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running. 
The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths. 
And then your breathing is cut all together. 
The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt. 
Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels. 
“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.” 
You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability. 
You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again. 
They are closer this time.
“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”
A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs. 
“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection. 
“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air. 
“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards. 
“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”
A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip. 
He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow. 
“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out. 
Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger. 
Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest. 
Neteyam keeps it sheathed. 
“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool. 
“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!” 
“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.” 
You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm. 
“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures. 
“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”
“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only  by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”
It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves. 
Poor thing, what would you do without him?
“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.
“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang  [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.
From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.
What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises. 
They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer. 
The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear. 
You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights. 
The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to. 
He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames. 
He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible. 
About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention. 
However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole. 
Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs. 
Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else. 
Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.
“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor. 
His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers. 
“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button. 
“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee. 
No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets. 
“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own. 
One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair. 
“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire. 
“Isn’t that right?”
“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth. 
“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place. 
Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment. 
It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away. 
“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.
Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing. 
For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.
Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop. 
Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him. 
It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of. 
He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms. 
You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning. 
And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle. 
A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied. 
It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.
Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time. 
The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt. 
“Did I say you could do that?” 
You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips. 
“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?” 
You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same. 
“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.” 
Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.
Just in the way only he can deliver. 
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Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations. 
You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you. 
“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.
“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.
“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”
Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him. 
“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.” 
Your alarm flares up once more. 
“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”
A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.
Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish. 
A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his. 
“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.” 
With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.
The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out. 
“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor. 
But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys. 
The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more. 
However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the  way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload. 
The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place. 
Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly. 
“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.” 
 And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows. 
He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids. 
The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union. 
And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss. 
“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper. 
“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else. 
“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over. 
“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong. 
“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust. 
Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek. 
“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.
That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations. 
There’s another side to him too.
The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom. 
Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him. 
And now nothing is going to take it away from him.
Nothing will ever take you away.
Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper. 
“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts. 
“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark. 
You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.
Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible. 
And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly. 
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“I want to sleep.”
Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.
“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again. 
It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same. 
“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.” 
Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out. 
Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat. 
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marvyu · 5 months ago
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SO WHAT? YOU'RE NOT MY BOYFRIEND.
pairings. choi seungcheol x female reader genre(s). smut, fluff, angst
summary. your roommate ruins your date night and treats you with something better.
warnings. explicit language, sexual themes, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, jealousy, emotional confrontation, masturbation (Male and Female Receiving) clit stimulation, oral sex (Female Receiving) hair pulling, aftercare, dirty talk, overstimulation -- if i missed anything lmk!
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It was another late night at the office, the clock nearing midnight as the soft hum of computers and the occasional shuffle of papers filled the air. You leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head and stifling a yawn. Across the room, Seungcheol was doing the same, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar glint. This had become your routine – working late into the night, side by side, before heading back to your shared apartment.
"Are you ready to call it a night?" Seungcheol asked, his voice breaking the silence.
You nodded, shutting down your computer. "Definitely. I think I’ve stared at this screen long enough to see the code in my sleep."
He chuckled, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "I know the feeling. Let's get out of here."
The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the streets deserted and the air crisp. It was a short distance, just a few blocks, and the familiarity of the path made the silence comfortable. When you reached the apartment, Seungcheol unlocked the door and held it open for you, a small gesture that always made you smile.
Once inside, the routine continued. You dropped your bags by the door, kicked off your shoes, and headed to the kitchen. "Want something to drink?" you called over your shoulder.
"Sure, just water for me," he replied, disappearing into his room to change out of his work clothes.
You poured two glasses of water and settled onto the couch, waiting for him to return. Moments later, he emerged in his usual post-work attire – gray sweatpants and a plain T-shirt, looking effortlessly handsome. He joined you on the couch, taking his glass with a grateful nod.
"Long day," he said, taking a sip.
"Tell me about it," you replied, leaning back against the cushions. "I don't know how much longer I can keep up with these late nights."
He turned to you, a playful smirk on his lips. "You say that every night, and yet here we are."
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Yeah, yeah. Don't remind me."
This was your life – a blend of work and personal time that blurred the lines between professional and intimate. Seungcheol was more than just a co-worker; he was your confidant, your roommate, and the one constant in your hectic life. The nights often ended like this, with the two of you sitting close, sharing quiet moments that hinted at something more.
It had started innocently enough, a mutual attraction that neither of you had acknowledged at first. But late nights at the office had a way of breaking down barriers, and before long, your relationship had shifted into something physical. There was an unspoken agreement between you – no strings attached, no complications, just a way to unwind after the stress of the day. And it worked, for the most part.
The routine was simple and comforting. After sharing a drink and some light conversation, the atmosphere would naturally shift. Seungcheol would give you that look, the one that made your heart skip a beat and sent a shiver down your spine. It was a look that promised escape from the day's stress and a dive into something much more exhilarating.
"Ready for bed?" he would ask, though the question always held a double meaning.
"Yeah," you’d reply, though the answer was never just about sleep.
You both moved with a practiced ease, the kind that comes from familiarity and mutual understanding. There were no awkward hesitations or second guesses – just a smooth transition from the living room to the bedroom. Seungcheol would wrap his arms around you from behind as you brushed your teeth, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a thrill through you. These moments of quiet intimacy were as much a part of your routine as the more passionate encounters that followed.
In the bedroom, the air would be thick with anticipation. Seungcheol had a way of looking at you that made you feel like the most important person in the world. He was attentive, always knowing exactly what you needed without you having to say a word. It was this unspoken connection that made your arrangement work so well. He understood you, and you understood him.
He would start slowly, his touch gentle yet firm, his kisses soft but growing more urgent as the moments passed. There was a rhythm to it, a dance that you both knew the steps to by heart. The way his hands roamed your body, the way he whispered your name – it was a routine that brought both of you immense comfort and satisfaction.
"You're so beautiful," he'd murmur against your skin, his voice husky with desire.
"And you're insufferable," you'd tease back, your breath hitching as his hands found their way to your most sensitive spots.
But beneath the teasing and the passion, there was a deeper connection. The routine was more than just physical release; it was a way for both of you to unwind and find solace in each other. The world outside could be chaotic and demanding, but in those moments, everything else faded away.
Afterwards, you would lie together in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, the post-coital glow making everything feel warm and safe. Seungcheol would hold you close, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. It was in these quiet moments that you felt the most at peace.
"You should try to get some sleep," he'd whisper, his breath warm against your ear.
"I will," you'd reply, though you often found yourself staying awake a little longer, savoring the feeling of his body next to yours.
One morning, as you and Seungcheol were enjoying a lazy breakfast together, you decided to share some news that had been on your mind. It was your day off, and the apartment was filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and the soft hum of the radio playing in the background. You had been chatting casually about work and plans for the day when you took a deep breath and decided to bring it up.
"Hey, Seungcheol," you started, trying to keep your tone light and casual, "I wanted to let you know that I’m bringing a friend over tonight. His name is Haru."
Seungcheol's reaction was subtle, but you noticed it immediately. His grip on his coffee mug tightened slightly, and there was a brief flash of something in his eyes – jealousy, perhaps? – before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.
"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "A friend, huh? What's the occasion?"
You shrugged, trying to hide your own nervousness. "Just thought it would be nice to hang out. Haru and I have been talking for a while, and I thought it would be good to introduce him to you."
There was a beat of silence as Seungcheol processed this information. He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes studying you over the rim of his mug. "I see. Well, it’s your place too. You can invite whoever you want."
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. You had expected some sort of reaction from Seungcheol, but his indifference felt almost worse than outright disapproval. You couldn’t quite place it, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air now, a silent understanding that things might be changing.
The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity as you prepared for Haru’s visit. You spent hours cleaning the apartment, making sure everything was perfect. The kitchen was spotless, the living room was tidy, and you even put fresh sheets on the guest bed just in case. All the while, Seungcheol watched you with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite identify.
"You're really going all out for this guy, huh?" he remarked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen as you bustled around.
"Well, I want to make a good impression," you replied, trying to sound casual. "It's important to me."
Seungcheol just nodded, his expression unreadable. "If you say so."
As the day wore on, your excitement grew, but so did your anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Seungcheol's reaction than he was letting on. You had always valued your relationship with him, but you also knew that things couldn't stay the same forever. Introducing someone new into your life felt like a step forward, but it also felt like a step away from the comfortable routine you had built with Seungcheol.
The afternoon sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow on the apartment. You found yourself glancing at the clock more often than usual, your heart beating a little faster with each passing minute. You had spent so much time with Seungcheol, sharing laughs, secrets, and intimate moments, that the thought of changing that dynamic was both thrilling and terrifying.
Seungcheol, meanwhile, tried to focus on his own tasks. He moved around the apartment with an air of forced nonchalance, his usual confidence replaced with a slight edge of unease. He couldn't deny the pang of jealousy that gnawed at him, but he also didn't want to overstep any boundaries. You were free to see whoever you wanted, and he had no right to interfere. Still, the thought of you being with someone else made his chest tighten.
"Need any help with dinner?" Seungcheol offered, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between you.
You looked up from the vegetables you were chopping and smiled. "Sure, you can set the table."
As he busied himself with plates and cutlery, Seungcheol couldn't help but steal glances at you. There was a lightness in your step, a brightness in your eyes that he hadn't seen before. It was clear that you were genuinely excited about Haru's visit, and that realization made his heart ache just a little bit more.
"What's he like?" Seungcheol asked, trying to sound casual.
"Haru?" You paused, thinking about how to describe him. "He's sweet, funny, and really kind. We've been talking a lot, and I think there's something special between us."
Seungcheol nodded, forcing a smile. "That's great. I'm glad you're happy."
You sensed the underlying tension in his words but chose not to push it. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, preparing a meal that you hoped would impress Haru. As the aroma of cooking filled the apartment, you allowed yourself to relax, reminding yourself that this was a positive step forward.
By the time evening rolled around, everything was ready. The table was set, the food was prepared, and you had even taken the time to freshen up and change into something nice. As you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead.
Just as you were about to head back to the living room, there was a knock at the door. Your heart leaped in your chest, and you quickly moved to answer it. Opening the door, you were greeted by Haru's warm smile.
"Hey," he said, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "You look amazing."
"Thanks," you replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Come in."
Haru stepped inside, and you took a moment to admire him. He was tall and lean, with dark hair that fell slightly over his eyes and a charming, easygoing demeanor. He wore a casual outfit – jeans and a fitted shirt that showed off his athletic build. There was an air of confidence about him that put you at ease and made you feel excited about the evening ahead.
As you led Haru into the apartment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. You had worked hard to make everything perfect, and now it was time to see how the evening would unfold. You guided him to the living room, where the table was set, and the aroma of the dinner you had prepared filled the air.
"This looks fantastic," Haru said, glancing around appreciatively. "You really went all out."
You smiled, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction. "I just wanted to make sure you felt welcome."
Just as you were about to introduce him to Seungcheol, you heard the sound of a door opening behind you. Seungcheol stepped out of his room, wearing his usual post-work attire of gray sweatpants and no shirt. His appearance was casual, yet it held an undeniable magnetism.
His well-defined muscles, honed from hours at the gym, moved with an effortless grace. His broad shoulders and chiseled chest caught the light just right, casting shadows that emphasized his sculpted physique. But it was his face that truly captivated – a strong, chiseled jawline framed a mouth that could shift from a teasing smile to a serious line in an instant. His dark hair was tousled, giving him an endearingly roguish look, while his eyes, a piercing shade of deep brown, held an intensity that made it hard to look away.
There was a certain scent about him, a mix of clean soap and something distinctly his, that lingered in the air and made your heart race. As he moved, there was an air of confidence and quiet strength about him, yet a hint of vulnerability in the way his eyes flickered over to you, just for a moment, before settling on Haru.
Seungcheol stopped in his tracks, his gaze locking onto Haru and then drifting down to where your hands were still connected. The room seemed to freeze in that moment, an awkward silence enveloping you all.
"Hey," Seungcheol finally said, his voice low and rich, like a warm breeze. "I didn't realize we had company."
You quickly dropped Haru's hand, feeling a bit flustered. "Seungcheol, this is Haru. Haru, this is my roommate, Seungcheol."
Haru extended a hand, smiling politely. "Nice to meet you."
Seungcheol glanced at the outstretched hand, his eyes narrowing slightly. He made no move to take it, instead crossing his arms over his chest, his expression remaining cool and unreadable. "Likewise," he said, his gaze never leaving Haru's face.
There was a palpable tension in the air, and you couldn't quite understand why. Seungcheol's usual easygoing demeanor seemed to have been replaced by something more guarded and intense. You brushed it off, attributing it to the sudden change in routine.
"Why don't you join us for dinner?" you suggested, trying to ease the awkwardness.
Seungcheol glanced at the table, then back at you. "I was just going to grab a snack," he said, his tone casual. "But thanks for the offer."
Ignoring the lingering tension, you led Haru to the dining table and gestured for him to sit. As you brought out the food, Seungcheol moved to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge with an air of nonchalance that seemed almost too forced. He emerged with a bottle of water and a snack, then leaned against the counter, watching you and Haru with a look that you couldn't quite decipher.
"So, how did you two meet?" Seungcheol asked, his voice cutting through the quiet conversation you were having with Haru.
"We met through a mutual friend," Haru explained, smiling at you. "It’s been really nice getting to know Y/N."
"That's great," Seungcheol replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Y/N is pretty amazing."
The compliment, though genuine, felt loaded with unspoken words. You glanced at Seungcheol, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression was unreadable. You turned your attention back to Haru, determined to make the evening enjoyable despite the strange undercurrent of tension.
As the evening progressed, the atmosphere in the room grew increasingly strained. You and Haru settled into a comfortable rhythm, your conversation flowing easily despite the occasional pointed look from Seungcheol. Haru seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, and you found yourself relaxing more with each passing minute. The food was delicious, and the atmosphere should have been perfect, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Seungcheol was watching your every move with a scrutinizing gaze.
"So, Haru," Seungcheol interjected suddenly, his voice slicing through the lighthearted chatter with the precision of a well-aimed dagger. "What line of work keeps you occupied?"
Haru looked up, momentarily startled by the abrupt inquiry. "I'm a graphic designer," he replied, offering a polite smile. "I work at a small agency downtown."
"Fascinating," Seungcheol drawled, leaning back in his chair with a languid grace that belied the intensity of his gaze. "It must be quite rewarding to indulge in such creative endeavors. Y/N and I, alas, are consigned to the monotonous world of numbers and figures."
You shot Seungcheol a pointed look, silently beseeching him to temper his remarks. However, he merely quirked an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as if he were savoring the undercurrent of tension he had created.
"It has its moments," Haru conceded, his smile faltering ever so slightly under the weight of Seungcheol's scrutiny. "I do enjoy the creative challenges."
"Good for you," Seungcheol replied, his tone laced with a veneer of civility that did little to mask the sarcasm lurking beneath. "It's always heartening to hear of someone finding fulfillment in their work."
Sensing the rising tension, you endeavored to steer the conversation back to safer waters. "Haru, you were telling me about that fascinating project with the interactive website. Do go on."
Haru's face brightened at the change of topic, and he launched into an enthusiastic description of his latest project. You listened with genuine interest, but you couldn't ignore the way Seungcheol's eyes kept flickering back to you, his expression a perplexing blend of amusement and something darker.
As the evening wore on, Seungcheol's interruptions grew more frequent and increasingly pointed. He made snarky comments about the food, pointed out trivial inconsistencies in Haru's stories, and even "accidentally" bumped into you as he moved about the apartment. Each incident seemed designed to unnerve Haru, whose initial charm was gradually giving way to visible discomfort.
"Excuse me," Seungcheol said at one point, reaching across the table with a deliberate nonchalance that belied his true intent. He managed to knock over Haru's glass of water, sending a cascade of liquid across the table. "Oops. My apologies."
You quickly grabbed a towel to mop up the spill, your frustration simmering just below the surface. "It's fine," you said through clenched teeth, attempting to maintain your composure. "No harm done."
Haru forced a smile, but the strain was evident in his eyes. "It's okay," he murmured, though his voice lacked its earlier warmth.
Seungcheol's behavior was wearing on your nerves, and you couldn't fathom why he was acting this way. He had never been so openly antagonistic before, and it was starting to fray your patience. All you wanted was to enjoy your evening with Haru, but Seungcheol seemed hell-bent on making that impossible.
The final straw came when Seungcheol "accidentally" brushed against Haru's arm as he walked past, causing Haru to drop his fork with a loud clatter. The sound reverberated through the tense silence, amplifying the growing discord.
"Seriously?" you snapped, your eyes flashing with indignation as you glared at Seungcheol. "Can you please give us a moment's peace?"
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his expression one of feigned innocence. "I was merely getting a drink," he said, holding up his glass as if to underscore his point.
"Well, can you manage it without causing a scene?" you retorted, your frustration boiling over.
Haru placed a soothing hand on your arm, his touch gentle and calming. "It's okay, Y/N," he said softly, his eyes beseeching you to let it go. "Really, it's fine."
But it wasn't fine. You could see the hurt and confusion in Haru's eyes, and it only fueled your anger further. Seungcheol was ruining what should have been a pleasant evening, and you were at a loss to understand why.
The tension in the room had reached a palpable peak, a silent battle of wills between Seungcheol and Haru with you caught in the crossfire. The evening that you had hoped would be a pleasant introduction of new possibilities had turned into a minefield of unspoken emotions and escalating conflict.
Seungcheol's final act of sabotage came as the three of you attempted to settle down in the living room. You had just suggested watching a movie, hoping it might diffuse the tension, when Seungcheol abruptly stood up, his eyes glinting with barely concealed irritation.
"I don't think this is working out," he announced, his voice ringing with a finality that froze you in place. He turned to Haru, his expression hardening. "I think it's time for you to leave."
Haru's eyes widened in shock, his calm demeanor slipping as he struggled to process Seungcheol's blunt dismissal. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"You heard me," Seungcheol replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "This isn't your place, and I think it's best if you leave now."
You felt a rush of anger and embarrassment flood your cheeks. "Seungcheol, what the hell are you doing?" you demanded, stepping between him and Haru. "You can't just kick him out like this!"
Seungcheol's eyes met yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. "I'm doing what needs to be done," he said, his tone unyielding.
Haru stood up, his expression a mixture of hurt and frustration. "It's okay, Y/N," he said, his voice resigned. "I'll go. This isn't worth the trouble."
You turned to Haru, your heart sinking. "I'm so sorry, Haru. This is not how I wanted tonight to go."
Haru managed a small, sad smile. "It's not your fault," he said softly. "I'll call you later."
As Haru gathered his things and headed for the door, you felt a pang of guilt and regret. This was supposed to be a simple, pleasant evening, and now it was ending in disaster. Once the door closed behind Haru, the silence in the apartment was deafening.
You turned to Seungcheol, your anger boiling over. "What the hell was that for?" you shouted, your voice shaking with fury. "You just ruined my date! Why would you do that?"
Seungcheol's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and something else you couldn't quite place. "He wasn't right for you," he said flatly.
"That's not for you to decide!" you shot back, your frustration reaching a breaking point. "You had no right to interfere like that. Haru is a good guy, and you just humiliated him for no reason!"
Seungcheol took a step closer, his presence towering over you. "I couldn't just stand by and watch you pretend everything was fine when it clearly wasn't," he said, his voice low and intense. "You deserve better than some guy who doesn't even know you."
"Better?" you echoed, incredulous. "And who are you to say what I deserve? You've made it very clear that our...whatever this is...doesn't mean anything beyond a few nights of fun. You don't get to dictate who I see or don't see."
Seungcheol's eyes darkened, his frustration matching your own. "Is that what you think?" he demanded, his voice rough with emotion. "That this doesn't mean anything to me?"
You crossed your arms, trying to shield yourself from the vulnerability his words evoked. "What else am I supposed to think? You keep things casual, no strings attached. That's what we agreed on."
"And maybe I was wrong," Seungcheol said, his voice softer now, but no less intense. "Maybe I want more than that. Maybe I want you."
The words hung in the air between you, a raw and unfiltered confession that left you reeling. You searched his eyes, looking for any sign that he was playing with you, but all you saw was sincerity and a depth of emotion that took your breath away.
The silence following Seungcheol's confession was thick with tension, each second stretching like an eternity. You stood there, heart pounding, grappling with the raw honesty of his words. The anger that had fueled your argument moments ago was now mingled with confusion and a flicker of something unnamed and unsettling.
"Y/N," Seungcheol began, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I mean it. I want you."
You opened your mouth to respond, to argue, but before you could utter a single word, Seungcheol closed the distance between you. His hands cupped your face with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his emotions, and then his lips were on yours, silencing your protests in an instant.
The kiss was both unexpected and overwhelming. Seungcheol's lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that took your breath away. For a moment, you were lost in the sensation, the world narrowing to the points where your bodies connected. His kiss was demanding yet tender, a blend of passion and desperation that made your heart race.
But just as quickly, the reality of the situation crashed back over you. You pulled away, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. "No," you said, shaking your head as if to clear it. "You don't get to do that."
Seungcheol's eyes searched yours, a mix of confusion and hurt flashing across his face. "Y/N, I—"
"No," you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration. "You can't just kiss me and expect everything to be okay. You don't get to treat me like some casual hookup and then suddenly decide you want more. It doesn't work like that."
Seungcheol took a step back, his hands dropping to his sides. "That's not what I'm doing," he said, his voice low but steady. "It's not like that."
"Then what is it?" you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture. "Because all you've ever wanted from me is something casual. And now, after ruining my date, you think you can just change the rules?"
"Y/N, please," Seungcheol pleaded, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. "Just listen to me."
You hesitated, the sincerity in his voice giving you pause. "Fine," you said, your tone still guarded. "I'm listening."
Seungcheol took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts. "I know I've been an idiot," he began, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "I've been hiding how I really feel because I was scared. Scared of messing things up between us, scared of losing you if it didn't work out."
You frowned, your anger slowly giving way to confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about how much you mean to me," Seungcheol said, taking a step closer. "I'm talking about how I can't stand the thought of you being with someone else because it makes me realize just how much I care about you. This isn't just some fling for me, Y/N. It never was."
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw honesty in his expression. It was a side of Seungcheol you hadn't seen before, and it left you reeling.
"But you never said anything," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "You never gave me any indication that you felt this way."
"I know," Seungcheol admitted, his voice thick with regret. "And I'm sorry for that. I thought I could keep things casual, that it would be easier that way. But seeing you with Haru... it made me realize that I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend that what we have doesn't mean everything to me."
You stared at him, your mind racing as you tried to process everything he was saying. The anger that had fueled your argument was slowly giving way to a deeper, more complex mix of emotions. Part of you wanted to believe him, to take the leap and see where it could lead. But another part of you was still hurt, still wary of getting your heart broken.
The silence hung heavy between you, laden with the weight of unspoken words and the raw, intense emotions that Seungcheol’s confession had unearthed. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that he rarely showed. And in that moment, your resolve began to waver.
“Seungcheol,” you began, your voice trembling, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything,” he replied, stepping closer, his gaze unwavering. “Just let me show you how I feel.”
Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both fervent and tender. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you against him, and you felt your body respond to his touch, the anger and confusion melting away, replaced by a burning desire.
His kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours with a sensuality that made your knees weak. You clung to him, your hands tangling in his hair as you surrendered to the intensity of the moment. Seungcheol’s hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting a fire in your veins.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. “I need you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing. “I need you to know how much you mean to me.”
You nodded, unable to find your voice. He took your hand, leading you to the bedroom, each step filled with anticipation and unspoken promises. Once inside, he turned to you, his gaze smoldering.
“Undress for me,” he commanded softly, his eyes never leaving yours.
With trembling hands, you complied, shedding your clothes until you stood bare before him. Seungcheol’s eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of awe and desire. He stepped closer, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”
You nodded again, your breath hitching as his hands trailed down your body, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He knelt before you, his eyes locking onto yours as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin.
The sensation was electric, and you felt a surge of arousal as his mouth moved closer to your core. He parted your folds with his fingers, his tongue flicking over your clit with a skill that made you gasp. Seungcheol’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he devoured you, his tongue and lips working in tandem to bring you to the brink of ecstasy.
“Oh, God, Seungcheol,” you moaned, your hands fisting in his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”
He hummed in response, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you. His tongue circled your clit, teasing and tormenting you until you were trembling with need. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that sweet spot, and you cried out, your body arching towards him.
Seungcheol didn’t relent, his mouth and fingers working together to drive you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building, a coil tightening in your belly, and then it snapped, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as you came, your cries echoing in the room.
He didn’t stop, his movements gentle as he coaxed you through the aftershocks, his eyes never leaving your face. When you finally came down, he stood, his fingers trailing your slick arousal up to your lips.
“Open,” he instructed, and you obeyed, taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. The look of pure desire in his eyes made your pulse quicken, and you sucked his fingers clean, reveling in the way he watched you.
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a low rumble. He kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessiveness that made your knees weak. You could taste yourself on his lips, the mingling of flavors heightening your arousal once more.
Seungcheol broke the kiss, his hands moving to undo his pants. “Lie down,” he instructed, and you did, stretching out on the bed, your body still humming with the remnants of your orgasm.
He shed his clothes quickly, his erection standing proud as he joined you on the bed. He knelt between your legs, his eyes drinking in the sight of you spread out before him. “I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice thick with need.
He took his cock in hand, stroking it slowly as he watched you. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, and you complied, your fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles as you watched him.
Seungcheol groaned, his hand moving faster on his cock as he watched you pleasure yourself. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. “Make yourself come for me.”
You bit your lip, your fingers moving faster, the combination of his gaze and the sensation pushing you closer to the edge. “Seungcheol,” you moaned, your body tensing as you felt your orgasm building once more.
“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “Come for me, Y/N.”
His words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a cry, your body trembling with the force of your release. Seungcheol watched you, his hand moving faster on his cock as he brought himself to the brink.
He leaned over you, his eyes burning with need. “I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice a raw whisper. “I need to feel you.”
You nodded, spreading your legs wider in invitation. Seungcheol positioned himself at your entrance, his cock slick with your arousal. He pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.
He set a slow, steady pace, each thrust deep and deliberate. The pleasure built with each movement, the intensity of the connection between you making your head spin. Seungcheol’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice a soft command. “I want to see you.”
You locked eyes with him, the depth of emotion in his gaze taking your breath away. The rhythm of his thrusts increased, the pleasure building to a fever pitch. He reached down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.
The combination was too much, and you felt yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, the intensity overwhelming. “Seungcheol,” you gasped, your body arching towards him.
“Come for me,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “I want to feel you come around me.”
His words sent you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. Seungcheol followed you, his release spilling into you as he groaned your name, the sensation of him filling you only heightening your pleasure.
He collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. You turned to him, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. He pulled you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his hand smoothing over your hair.
You nodded, your heart full. “I’m more than okay,” you replied, your voice a whisper. “I’m perfect.”
Seungcheol smiled, his eyes warm with affection. “Good,” he said, pulling you even closer. “Because I’m not letting you go.”
The promise in his words wrapped around you, a comforting reassurance of the depth of his feelings. In that moment, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. And that was all you needed.
The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. You stirred, nestled in the warmth of Seungcheol’s embrace, his arm draped protectively around your waist. For a moment, you lay still, savoring the tranquility of the morning, the quiet intimacy that enveloped you both.
Seungcheol shifted beside you, his eyes fluttering open. A slow smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of you in his arms. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
"Good morning," you replied, your own smile matching his.
He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "How did you sleep?" he asked, his lips trailing soft kisses down your temple and along your cheek.
"Better than I have in a long time," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at his affectionate gestures.
Seungcheol’s kisses continued, each one a tender promise of his feelings. He moved to your other cheek, then your nose, then your chin, covering your face with a constellation of soft, loving kisses. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sensation, your heart swelling with affection for the man beside you.
"Seungcheol," you murmured, your fingers threading through his hair as he nuzzled against your neck, his breath warm against your skin.
"Hmm?" he hummed, his lips moving to your jawline.
"This is nice," you said, your voice soft. "I could get used to waking up like this."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that made your breath catch. "So could I," he replied, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you softly on the lips.
Just as you were losing yourself in the sweetness of the moment, a familiar sound interrupted the tranquility. The door creaked open, and you felt a rush of fur and energy as Kkuma, Seungcheol’s dog, bounded into the room.
"Kkuma!" Seungcheol exclaimed with a laugh, sitting up as the dog jumped onto the bed, tail wagging furiously.
Kkuma wasted no time, planting herself between the two of you and showering Seungcheol with enthusiastic licks. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the dog’s antics bringing a lightness to the room.
"Kkuma, stop," Seungcheol said, though his laughter belied any real annoyance. He scratched behind the dog’s ears, giving her the attention she so eagerly sought. "You’re interrupting a very important moment, you know."
You smiled, reaching out to pet Kkuma as well. "I think she’s just making sure we’re both awake," you said, your heart full as you watched the playful interaction between Seungcheol and his beloved pet.
Kkuma’s presence had an undeniable way of lightening the mood, her joyful energy infectious. She turned her attention to you, her eyes bright with curiosity. You scratched her behind the ears, earning a contented sigh as she settled down between you and Seungcheol.
The three of you lay there for a while, enjoying the peaceful morning. 
"Y/N," Seungcheol said softly, his hand finding yours under the covers. "About last night..."
You turned to him, your heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. "Yes?"
"I meant everything I said," he continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I want to be with you. For real. No more pretending, no more keeping things casual."
You felt a lump form in your throat, the sincerity in his eyes nearly overwhelming. "I want that too, Seungcheol," you whispered, squeezing his hand. "I want to be with you."
He smiled, a look of pure relief and happiness washing over his face. "Then let’s do it," he said, leaning in to kiss you again, this time with a gentle, lingering sweetness that left no doubt about his feelings.
Kkuma, not to be left out, nudged her way between you once more, her tail thumping against the bed as she demanded attention. You both laughed, the moment made all the more perfect by her playful interruption.
As the morning sun continued to rise, you and Seungcheol talked about your future, about the possibilities that lay ahead. There was a sense of hope and excitement, a feeling that together, you could face whatever came your way.
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© marvyu 2k24 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.
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alastorss · 6 months ago
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Hi, could you do an Alastor x Reader where Alastor is the intimidating, scarier half. Their group of friends see him wearing an adorable, soft, pastel pink sweater and start to laugh at him. Until Alastor jumps on Reader's back, grinning and kissing Alastor's cheek because Reader took forever to make that sweater?
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
"Hey, Smiles..." Angel strains out awkwardly. "What'cha got goin' on here?"
The spider gestures up and down Alastor's body, brows pulled together in utter confusion. (He really wishes he had his phone on him. He'd risk taking a thousand photos just to remember this moment.)
Alastor only stares back, smile ever present but eyes narrowed in irritation. "I'll have you know that pink is in this season!"
"In? This season?" Angel guffaws, glancing down at his own outfit before his eyes are all over the Radio Demon again. "I mean, I guess... But you don't seem the type."
"What ever do you mean?"
'It's written all over your face!' Angel screams in his head. He clears his throat and continues carefully, not wanting to step on the Overlord's toes and wind up on his dinner plate.
But before he can even get another word out—
"He means that stupid fucking pink sweater you're wearing," Husk deadpans from behind the bar, attention devoted to polishing a glass. Perhaps that was for the better, Angel thinks, when Alastor shoots daggers in his direction with a glare.
"Stupid?" Alastor repeats, voice crackling dangerously with static.
"It looks like Valentine's Day just threw up all over you," the bartender elaborates.
"Does it now?" The Radio Demon stands, seething in his spot.
Angel clambers over the sofa in worry. "Apologize now, I beg of you," he sputters in exasperation.
However, Husk doesn't back down. Instead, they stare at each other in intense silence, anger simmering between them. The pornstar is just about to yell for Charlie to break them up when his knight in shining armour waltzes into the room.
"You're wearing it!" You gasp, joy evident as your grin spreads ear-to-ear.
Angel watches in relief when Alastor relaxes, antlers shrinking back down. He takes his seat again, allowing you to attack him from behind. You dangle off his neck like a charm with your cheek pressed to his.
"Of course I'm wearing it," he chuckles. "You made it!"
Alastor's eyes dart to the side to leer at Husk who finally shrinks back, realizing his mistake.
A strange pairing.
It was what everyone murmured under their breath when they would see you and your companion. Wherever you went your relationship drew eyes. You were too good for him, or he was too good for you.
To hell with that.
You suited each other—despite the odds, despite the differences. He was harmless as a domestic cat in your arms, and he was teaching you all the wonders of smiling until your cheeks hurt.
And it was one thing to badmouth him. It was another to insult you, whether they realized it or not.
"Pink looks so nice on you," you sing, giving him a little squeeze. "Don't you think?"
You peer up at Angel, and for some reason, he feels a chill run down his spine. Maybe it was because you were currently an accessory to the most feared demon in the Pride Ring.
Or perhaps...
"Looks fantastic," he grits when your head tilts and he realizes you're smiling so wide that you're practically baring your fangs at him.
You were just as terrifying when you were mad!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
"They hated it, didn't they?"
Alastor can hear your pout.
"Oh, sweetheart," he muses as he watches you get ready for bed. "They absolutely did~"
You sigh, flopping down onto the mattress. When you finally look at him, you snicker.
"You really don't have to wear it to sleep, you know?" You poke his side. "I know it looks terrible. Take it off already!"
The Radio Demon catches your wrist and guides you into his lap, allowing you to straddle him. You melt into his body as his arms wrap around you.
"It's perfectly warm and comfortable. Acceptable attire for bed. Need I mention again that you made it for me?"
He kisses the top of your head and you giggle as he continues.
"And I believe pink really does suit me."
"Even if people laugh at you?" You ask quietly.
He is silent for a pause before he pulls you so close that he can feel your heartbeat.
"They can laugh all they want. At the end of the day, who's the one who gets to hold you like this?"
You breathe out a whispy laugh.
"Sap."
Before you fall asleep, you make a new reminder in your phone to pick up more supplies for another sweater.
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @princekeerys @cedarrthefluffylee @alastorthirsty (send an ask to be added!)
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mekyrdesign · 3 months ago
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Indulge in retro charm with our Women's 80s Print Satin Pajama Set. This stylish set features vibrant, nostalgic prints that bring a touch of fun to your bedtime routine. Crafted from luxurious satin, the Women's 80s Print Satin Pajama Set ensures comfort and elegance as you unwind after a long day. Perfect for lounging or a cozy night in, this pajama set is a must-have for anyone looking to embrace that iconic 80s vibe. Treat yourself to the ultimate in sleepwear!
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henrycangelbaby · 3 days ago
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Thinking about John Price and his cute little assistant (reader) who ends up pregnant. 
A/N: Guys i was inspired while scrolling on the john price x reader tag, this legit came to me as a vision and now i have to write it (I plan on expanding on this idea so just stay with me!!!!)
Imagine being John Price's cute little assistant, just the sweetest little thing that John is kinda obsessed with. Like don't get me wrong she is amazing at her job, smart, put together and well organized and John does feel that her addition has been a positive one, taking some pressure off his shoulders and making sure his team is always prepared for whatever they are doing. She is very good at what she does, but that doesn’t stop John from admiring her. He knows he shouldn't be bit, he can't help it, she's young and sweet and a little bit innocent and he just wants to protect and love her all the time. 
In the beginning she was shy, only addressing him as sir and knocking on his door hesitantly whenever she needed to speak to him but gradually their boundaries became less and less. More often than not she works out of his office, whether he’s there or not, he insists on buying her an early lunch when she lets slip that she didn't have breakfast that morning. He has even picked her up from a night out once or twice, a little bit tipsy and calling the most trusted person she can think of that just happened to be her boss. He takes care of her as well, helping her get her makeup and clothes off before tucking her into her bed with a bottle of water and pain killers for the morning. He doesn't mention it when he sees her next, knowing how embarrassed she will be when he tells her the loneliness her tipsy self admitted. 
When she starts to get sick John is having absolutely none of it, driving her home and ordering her to take some time off (he even visits later that night to bring her some soup for her stomach). He doesn't expect her to look so sad when she comes back supposedly better from her “flu”, he doesn't expect to see her eyes shine with tears when he asks “what's wrong babygirl?”.  He sits them down on the couch in his office together, putting an arm over her and pulling her close for comfort. He certainly does not expect her to look up at him with those shiny wet eyes and admit she did something bad before crying that she's pregnant. It’s news to John who never even considered that his girl would be dating (let alone sleeping with) people. When he vocalizes this and she admits that her baby daddy isn't a very good guy, it's over for John. 
Suddenly he's all over her, promising to be there for her, that she can come to him whenever she needs. And he actually means it. Suddenly she’s staying in the spare bedroom in his house, not only does it have more room but John can keep an eye on her. She entirely moves into his office working on his desk with him, he gets her a comfy chair so she can be supported in the later months. He gets up to hold her hair back when she has morning sickness and ensures she gets enough nutritious food each day. When she starts showing, oh my god John doesn't know what to do with himself. That little bump peaking out of her tight skirts makes him foam at the mouth. Of course he prioritizes her comfort, insisting she change shoes and stop wearing those uncomfortable looking heels, but he keeps her in her formal work attire for just a little longer, just so he can see her cute tummy poking out of it. 
Speaking of her bump. He simply can't resist putting his hand on it. He feels so protective over it, best believe he goes feral if anyone tries to touch it. Hell all but breaks loose when his precious baby looks up at him with teary eyes telling him how uncomfortable she was when some rando put their hand on her stomach, (someone definitely lost their job that day). He eventually has her sitting in his lap, cooing over her and reassuring her that they won't get in trouble, that really he is the big boss anyways. He just loves having her there, perched on top of him he rests his head on her shoulder both arms coming around to cradle her now bigger bump. 
John mandates maternity leave when she starts getting big, maybe around seven months when she spends a lot of her time complaining about back aches and swollen ankles, of course he does what he can to help her but it gets to the point where he knows that she should be resting. He has to basically forcibly put her on leave, reassuring her panics about money by promising to take care of her. And oh boy does he. He gives her foot massages and holds her belly, when she starts outgrowing her clothes best believe he would hand over any of his so she can fit in them more comfortably. He's just all over her, unable to stomach the fact that soon she will have a real live baby. That baby is about to become the most protected baby in the entire world.
That's all I have for now because I fear if I begin rambling about the rest of the 141 neither of us might make it out alive. (just know this baby is going to be so damn spoiled it’s crazy). 
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deadghosy · 7 months ago
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How they would react to teen sinner! Reader getting catcalled/ S/A:
WARNING: long depending on your reading speed, explicit language, uncomfortable themes, read if you don’t wanna read anything you have encountered in life like this. If you are dealing with s/a please call your national hotline. This will be the only time I write something like this cause this is a serious topic.
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LUCIFER
It was late in the pride ring as you snuck out of the hotel wanting to get snacks and a drink. I mean shit you died in the late 2010’s, you’re use to this shit. So you went to a store as you didn’t see an older sinner smirk, slowly gazing your body up and down as you grab a pair of chips and energy soda.
“Hey sweetie…” the older sinner says as he slowly appears behind you. You divest even bother to look at him as you felt him get closer. You whipped around and glare at him only to see such an ugly sinner who looks homeless as well.
“Hey now, I’m not gonna harm you.” The man says grabbing your arm and pulling you toward him. “I just wanna see your pretty face little boy/girl.” Your eyes widened shocked. You tried to pull your arm as he tugs tighter. You yelled for him to let you go as he dragged you out the store. You were not gonna let some creep take you! So you bit his arm hard as fuck. He let you go, but not without punching you.
You ate the punch but start to run to the hotel you know and love. You ran as your heart beat for safety and away from anything else. You didn’t think it would be like this, but what could you except. This is hell itself. There’s a lot of ass holes and bastards that deserve to be here.
You ran inside ignoring the look of a certain king who was sitting down in the lounge room, he swore he saw tears fall down your cheeks. He felt his heart ache to know what was wrong with you as he slowly followed after you.
A soft knock was heard as you look up to see the king of hell, the man who always gave you ducks when you first came here. “Kid are you okay? I heard you cry?” He said worried seeing you tear up hearing his worried voice. It wasn’t making it better as you ran into his arms. He was move back a bit at your usually tough attire cracking into a soft and scared one. Now he was concerned.
He set you back in bed as you rant out about what happened, even giving a description of what he looked like. After a bit of comfort in for Lucifer and him petting your back a lot. You sniffled a little, feeling better than what you felt as Lucifer smiled at you sleeping against his lap. He sighs sensing you sleeping as he poofs away from your sleeping body.
“DONT worry kid…that bastard isn’t going to see another hellish day…” Lucifer says walking out of the hotel as his hat overcasted his face.
It was a new day as you woke up to play your regular tv show only for the news to play. “BREAKING 666 NEWS!!! ALLEGED PEDOPHILE DEAD AT GRIMM’S MARKET AS HIS HEAD WAS-” the news was cut off by Lucifer who had a guilty expression as you had a wide eye expression shocked that the bastard got some quick karma.
ALASTOR
You and alastor went on a walk together as he wanted you to get off your pesky small picture rectangle. He’s talking about your damn phone.💀
“And I told the fellow gentleman to make my meat, medium rar-” before Alastor could finish his story about how he went to a restaurant. You groaned tired of this, you wanted to sleep and be on your hell phone since you miss the human world.
Alastor rolls his eyes with a smile, he pinches your cheek making you huff. “No need for an attitude!~” he said in a song tune voice you pushed him away from you embarrassed. “I don’t need to fix my attitude old man..” you say walking a bit forward ahead of the deer demon.
The radio demon chuckles, but the chuckles stops when seeing you immediately get whistled at by a male sinner who eyes you. You flipped the sinner off before going back to Alastor, holding the older’s hand as he slightly move in front of you.
It seemed like this asshole was trying to talk to you, but he couldn’t as alastor smiles down at the sinner. “C'mere sweet thing. Why don’t you come and get a drink with me.” The sinner says. You and Al narrow your eyes at the sinner, you weren’t budging from behind alastor who stands strong and confident
“I don’t think they will be going with you anytime soon my dear fellow.” Alastor says with a strained smile. The sinner was definitely new and didn’t know who was companying you at this very moment.
“I don’t think I give a fuck.” The sinner says teaching his hand out to your frame.
The sinner tried to make an attempt to grab your arm from the radio demon. There was a ring of static in the air whilst making the sinner stop grabbing your arm. Alastor grabs the arm that dares to try and take you from him. Alastor smiles eerily at the sinner.
“I’ll teach you some respect you filthy pest.” He says as static seems to boom the area before he goes full demon mode and drag the filth to the alley to have a nice “talk.”
Their screams were broadcasted on his radio station the day after they whistled at you. Alastor made sure to have his shadow follow you for a few months before he was sure you were fully okay. Harassment towards a minor, is a big no-no.
VAGGIE
You wanted to help her get more flowers for a decoration of a trust exercise, so she let you run the errand.
You ran out the hotel happy and excited. You always weee excited to help the hotel ever since you died. You knew your mom was in heaven so you wanted to be redeemed quickly and possible.
You went to the flower shop smiling which gained the attention of a female who smile sweetly at you. She approached you holding a flower. You knew not to take things from strangers, even demons as Charlie and vaggie told you.
But it’s a flower, what’s the worse that can happen. Plus you need flowers for the event itself. As you grabbed the flower, the flower sprays out this gas that made you feel slight drowsy. You feel your body limp as the woman comes closer to you.
You try to push her off as she caresses your body. With your mustered up strength, you use your sharp nails/claws to stab her eyes and run.
The flower drug was slowly taking affect until you did a few symbols on yourself. You learnt it from Lucifer as he gave you a book. The drug wore off but your mind was scrambling. You felt yucky and violated. As you bursted through the hotel door, accidentally running into vaggie’s arms.
“What the fuck happened!!?” Vaggie says concerned as she sees the bruises on your wrist. Her eyes widen. “What. Happened..” she says seriously.
You explained the situation while sobbing softly. Vaggie comforted you in her hold as she closed her eyes ashamed at how she wasn’t there to protect you. She was suppose to your guarden. Your parental figure.
Vaggie takes you upstairs, run you a bath and just watched you softly. Guilt in her eyes for not being a good parent to you and just follow you to make sure you were okay.
The whole night, she stayed close to you. Not even dropping her guard when it comes to you. You are too precious to go through this. She just hopes you can recover.
She’s not letting you out of her sight ever again. Hell she might teach you how to fight , but might go overprotective on you and keep you in the hotel until she and you were sure to go outside again.
CHARLIE
It was during a trust exercise with one of the new residents…
It was a trust fall activity as Charlie shows the residents how it goes. You say what you have in your mind and do the trust fall. After Charlie does it with vaggie. It was your turn and the sinner’s.
The sinner looked calm and you were anxious as you never done the trust fall game. Even in the human world.
As you stood on the stand talking to every member of this exercise and Charlie. She gives you a thumbs up which made you smile and gain confidence in talking. You fell backwards into the sinner’s hold as they caught you.
But they didn’t let you go. You tried to tell them but they didn’t let go still. You felt their hand travel around you and gr0pe your lower and waist. Your eyes widen as you try to move away from the bastard.
Tears were in your eyes as you hyperventilate at how you feel their touch. It burns, it feels like lit burns. Charlie notices what is going on. She gets up and pulls the bastard from you. She pushes you behind her as she looks behind her to see if you were okay. Whilst she does that, she glares heavily at the sinner.
“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN TOUCH THEM LIKE THAT?!” Charlie yells as her demon form was slipping out of anger seeing you run towards her. Hell was going loose as the sinner tried to back away from the raging aura Charlie was releasing.
Before Charlie can send hell fire at the bastard who dares to gr0pe you, you grabbed her arm. You know she isn’t really the type to kill someone and might regret it. So while you grabbed her arm, she calmed down and stared at you. Her yellow pupils going back to red as she glares at the sinner.
“Your stay isn’t welcome here..” Charlie says lastly as alastor takes the sinner away, probably to kill them and eat em.
Charlie takes you up stairs as you grip onto her arm. Her gaze on you soften with protectiveness and worry. She can’t believe that happened to you.
She checks on you everyday and has to mane sure you are with a resident before leaving the hotel. She feels guilty knowing she wasn’t there to protect you. Charlie must definitely hands razzle and dazzle to you if you are going out or going to sleep.
HUSK
A drunk resident had walked into your room as you were busy doing art work.
It was a night that you were relaxing in your room just drawing. You always had a passion to draw, maybe even to be an artist.
Your father figure was down stairs tending the bar. Husk was giving drinks to a resident, husk could tell that the drunk bastard has enough. He told the bum to go upstairs as he had enough beers.
Husk watches the person go upstairs, stumbling and staggering. The cat demon rolls his eyes as he hears a door close, assuming the sinner went to their designated room.
You were so busy listening to music you didn’t notice someone enter your room. As you put down your pencil, going for a crayon. You noticed a resident you would see at the bar. Your eyes widen smelling the strong alcohol from their body as they walked closely to you.
A curling scream came from your room making husk immediately drop the glass he was cleaning. He rushes upstairs to see the problem and why you screamed. He sees you being pinned down by the sinner he was tending to earlier.
“GET THE FUCK OF THEM!” Husk yells, eyes filled of anger. All he saw was red as he pulls the bastard off you and starts to beat the person up repeatedly. Their face was bloodied as heavy breathing came out of their face. You stopped husk as you had already been traumatized. Husk stops, breathing heavy before he kicks the bastard all the way down stairs.
You sometimes still relive through that moment as husk stays beside your bed. Husk would have to calm your down from your panic attacks from that night as you lash out at your own “father”
“Kid. Kid! Calm down…it’s okay. I’m here for you..fuck. I’m here for you.” Husk says calmingly while you try to get out of his hold. Still in panic mode. He had to hold you tightly for you to understand that you were now safe.
Hot tears fall to your cheek as you sob painfully at what you just experienced. Your tears made husk’s heart break and shatter. He was just glad you were okay in your room for now.
He holds you to his chest as his fur called you down even more. You sniffled holding him tight as if he would disappear if you let him go.
He felt your heartbeat go slow as you fall asleep in his hold. He stays close to you the whole night as he promises that he will always protect you. You are like his own child since you came to the is shit hole.
He lets you stay by him in the bar as you fall asleep. He grumbles a lot remembering that night as he almost broke a glass in his hand. You are only a kid…
ANGEL DUST
You were sent to find angel dust, only to see him in a bar drunk. So what did you do? Try and drag him out only to drag into trouble
You went into the bar to see Angel drunk, he was also talking to some demons who smirked at his drunken state.
You scoffed going over to grab Angel dust. As you went to grab him, one of the demons made you sit on his lap as if you were ready to meet Santa Claus. But you weren’t as you headbutt the demon and grab Angel dust.
The rest of the demons pull out knives and gun. Your eyes widen as you rushed pout the bar door, sensing the demons on your tail.
You throw a beer bottle at one of the members, the shards went in their eyes. Even if it was a small trick, the screams distracted those asshole as you make a run for the hotel.
You gently laid angel dust in his bed as his eyes tears up, realizing the situation and what could’ve happened if you didn’t take advice from Vaggie about combat.
“Shit…I’m sorry for getting you in this shit.” Angel dust says as he looks away with a drunk shamed look. You sighed, you’re just a kid looking after a drunk adult.
Angel sobered up a bit after you left him in his room. His memory fuzzy, but it was clear that you were uncomfortable with those damn demons that were eyeing you. Even if you got pulled into someone’s lap, that made him disgusted.
He promised you when you first came here that he would protect you. You was like a little sibling to him. He couldn’t believe how he was a drunk asshole who couldn’t even protect someone he cared about most.
Angel was actually sober for months after that encounter. Worried you would run into those demons he was with that night. He would also make you more like force you to watch fat nuggets while he is at work.
He would probably make a deal with Valentino or probably mostly alastor to make sure you were safe since that day.
SIR PENTIOUS
You were trying to find Frank, one of the egg boiz in the pride ring only to run into trouble.
You found Frank being ganged by some sinner who looked from the modern era you are from. You looked around for something, and you found an old computer. Mustering up your strength, you threw that bitch at their head.
Frank runs to you, holding your leg tightly. He was happy to see you were okay with him. You and the egg right here was like family as you smile at how cute he was happy to see you. Pentious would be happy to see Frank is in good condition
You left the alley way and start to chat with the egg boy by your side. It was have been obvious that you were being watched as a female sinner stared at you and your body. You felt the gaze and scoff making Frank raise a brow until seeing the sinner. The sinner seemed scary for poor Frank.
A whistle was made towards you, you flipped them off as you picked up the poor egg who was trembling. He obviously was trying to seem strong for you but it fails as he holds tightly to you. The sinner lady smirks as she follows you. You felt more uncomfortable with Frank as Frank was trying to warn you that she was gaining speed for you. But you already knew.
You made a circle with your hand, a portal opened and it closed immediately when you entered it. The portal sent you to the hotel in one piece with the adorable egg boy.
Your face was stoic with some disgust in your eyes. Eyebrows furrowed on your face as you entered Pentious’s room with Frank.
“Ssssweetheart? What happened? Whatssss wrong?” Pentious says as he notices your disgusted look. "Nothing nothing. Here you go penny." You said brushing off the feeling on your shoulders. But it still noticeable in your body language.
Before you could walk out of the room after putting Frank down. Frank just had to open his eggy mouth. The egg confessed that you were catcalled and almost followed to the hotel until you did your powers you have conquered in hell.
“Why that behavior is not acceptable to a minor!! That bunch of filth shall learn to never mess with my dear friend.” Pentious says as he forces out of his room so you can get a fresh start on a new days and this time he is making baby gates for his eggs so they will not bother you anymore
He was planning all night to see what he can use as a revenge for the cat calling you had experienced. Frank was also giving sir Pentious ideas also. It seemed they both agreed on one plan to have your get back.
He used his machine weapons to destroy that monster who catcalled. He was definitely making sure the laser was fast so he can come back to you and make you cookies so you could feel better. For the rest of the week and probably month.
CHERRI BOMB
You wanted to grab a snack out for Cherri and you. You left the hotel as she started to stay, as you left you didn’t notice of couple of shark demons. The leader smirked flicking a cigarette from his mouth eyeing you. They whistled at you making you scoff and keep walking.
The leader nods his head at you as the sharks move towards you snickering. You felt their presence, luckily you brought your…damnit you left your pepper spray.
The leader grabs you trying to pull you into an alley as your eyes widen. In a heap of panic you screamed for help, that only made it worst. Next thing you felt was a slap to your cheek as you sobbed.
The leader and the members chuckle grabbing your hair. With one final effort your screamed, but it wasn’t an ordinary scream. It was a sonic one that blew them away (a/n: sorry if it sounded corny😕) With that you left in a hurry inside of the hotel. Tears running down your eyes, you ran upstairs passing Cherri who looked shocked to see you run pat her like nothing.
“Sweetie?” Cherri says softly, her Australian accent showing her absolute worry for you as she followed you into your room. She sees your face in your pillow. Softly sobbing, scared as your adrenaline was still high. She sat next to you softly holding you in her arms hoping you would open up. And you did after calming down. 
After explaining what happened with a tired and broken voice, you couldn’t believe that this would happenu to you. You felt kinda yucky being touched but you felt safe with Cherri.
“What a fuckin' asshole. I bet his dick is small…don’t worry honey.” She says caressing your back as you sniffled before falling asleep.
In the aftermath, she blowed up their house in honor for you.🔥💗 no witnesses either.
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HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT!
Remember that my requests are closed, so please if you are new to my blog check out my other work as I am currently working on other requests‼️ THAT ARE IN MY DRAFTS, not the ones people are asking me. So please don’t DM me and respect that please.
And mostly, please seek help if you are going through any abuse or assault related issues. Everyone needs to speak up in their own experiences. ❤️
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alastor-simp · 30 days ago
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Cuddling By The Fireplace🧡 - Alastor X Female Reader
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❥Summary: It's fall season now, which means the air in Hell will get much colder. Thank god, the hotel has a fireplace.
❥Tags: Alastor x Female Reader, Flufftober, Cuddling, Snuggling, Fireplace, October, Flufftober 2024, Fluff, So Much Fluff.
❥Notes: Needed me some flufftober with Alastor. Enjoy!
Grabbing a piece of wood from the pile, you moved it slowly to the burning flames in the fireplace, small fire sparks crackling out. "That should be enough", you thought, as you slowly motioned to stand back up, maneuvering to your cozy section on the couch. Autumn had slowly creeped its way to hell, as the air was becoming more chiller, and some of the hellish trees were getting a change in color. It still surprised you that hell could even experience seasonal change, since you always believed it was a fiery molten pit, with blazing flames everywhere, but well you were proven wrong.
The other residents of the hotel noticed the sudden change, and began to slowly adapt to it. The others began to wear more comfortable clothing like sweaters and cardigans, especially Angel Dust since you often some him wearing really revealing clothing, but even he couldn't deal with the new chilly weather. Charlie, being the sweetheart that she is, went out of her way to get everyone new fall attire and also provide more blankets and comfy decor for there rooms since it was especially more colder at night. Alastor had pitched in as well, maybe not as much as Charlie, but he expanded his powers to create a warm fireplace in the lobby of the hotel, which everyone appreciated, including you. Everyone had retired for the night, except you, as you found yourself unable to snooze, so you decided to head to the lobby, hoping the warmth from the fireplace would help you nod off.
Upon reaching the couch, you threw yourself onto it, grabbing the fluffy blanket that Charlie had gifted you and wrapped it around yourself. Letting out a sigh, you leaned back, head placed on the couch cushion, as your eyes were trained onto the fire, watching the flames dance and twirl. The cracking of the wood burning and glowing effect provided a comforting atmosphere for you, as your eyes watched on, entranced.
Waves of static had merged itself with the sounds of the burning wood. Turning your head to the right, the empty area of the lobby was now accompanied by the radio demon himself. He was still in his regular suit, as he often said he didn't really sleep, so he found no need to change unless he felt like it. Crimson eyes were gazing at the fire, before they made their way towards you, watching you. "Good evening, my dear. I take it, you also are having trouble getting some proper shut-eye, hmm?" Alastor bent at the waist, smile widening as he continued to look at you. Wrapping the blanket tighter around you, your eyes gazed into Al's softly, giving him a kind smile, "Yeah, I was thinking maybe using the fireplace would help make me more tired. Thanks again for making this" Alastor appeared quite pleased, happy that you were appreciating what he did. It was only a simple trick, but the others were very thankful for it, even though he knows they wouldn't say it outright to him, except maybe Charlie.
"You're quite welcome, my dear.", his smile had softened, as he turned back to gaze at the fire, straightening back up with his hands behind his back. The both of you remained quiet after that, listening to the sounds of the fireplace and the small bursts of static coming off from Al. Moving more to the left of the couch, you lifted the blanket up, inviting Al into the warm cocoon. "Join me?" His ears twitched at your words, moving his head back towards you - eyebrow lifted as he was contemplating it. Eyes widening, you quickly realized your mistake, forgetting the extreme dislike for touch that Alastor made well known to everyone. The hand that lifted up the blanket slowly began to drop, until Al spoke. “Very well," he responded, as he moved closer to where you were on the couch.
Grabbing the lifted blanket, he slowly sat on the couch, moving the cover to wrap around his back. His legs crossed one on top of the other and his hands were placed against his lap, his whole body stiff as a statue. He hadn’t turn to look at you when he did that, his eyes continuing to stare at the fire. Heaving a sigh, you uttered an apology, earning a confused look from Al, as his head swiveled towards you, “Why are you apologizing?” Looking up at him, you opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you, so you casted your head down - ashamed. “I understand I have made you uncomfortable and it wasn’t my intention to do that. J-just…. I’ve never seen you physically relax and wind down after a long day and I thought maybe you joining me might help with that…I don’t know…I’m sor-”
A warm hand had placed itself on your chin, turning it around to face the red deer man. “You did no such thing, darling.” His hand ventured from your chin to your cheek, giving it a soft rub. Al began to turn back to look at the fire, his hand dropping from your cheek, making you a bit sad at the loss of contact. “I will admit though, it has been difficult for me to, what’s the word? Adapt…to these sorts of things. Centuries of mutilating and torturing my prey on my broadcasts can do that." His sharp row of teeth had disappeared, as his lips drew into a more somber smile, allowing you to see more of the true side of Alastor. His eyes turned back towards you, illuminating your face. "It may take some time for me to get a grasp of all this. However, I don't mind this current situation." His body was still stiff, but he had unhooked his legs, signifying that he was trying to somewhat relax.
Hands twiddling under the blanket, you looked at Alastor, words fumbling from your mouth. "C-can I come closer?" Silence was the answer that you received from Alastor. He didn't speak, but he was able to respond with a soft nod. Moving slowly, you began to inch closer and closer towards Al, eyeing him to notice any signs of discomfort from your actions. Two sets of hands had grabbed at your waist, lifting you up a bit, placing you on his lap. The blanket was then wrapped around the both of you, warming the both of you up. "Al! What are you doing?" You gazed up at Al in shock, not expecting him to do that. Alastor tilted his head, "Why, you wanted to get closer. Isn't this what you meant?" Well, he wasn't wrong, but you expected laying your head on his shoulder, not being seated on his lap. "W-ell yes, just wasn't expecting this"
Al noticed your flustered state, making him chuckle. His hands remained wrapped around your back, allowing him to pull you closer, your head being placed on his chest. His cheek was place against the top part of your head, allowing him to nuzzle against it softly. Despite being shy at the situation, you melted at the soft actions he was doing to you. Copying him, you nuzzled against his chest, listening closer to the static coming off from him, and breathing in his scent. "You smell nice" His chest vibrated with laughter, amused at your comment. "What a peculiar thing to compliment someone about." Heat rushed to your cheeks, burying your face in his chest to hide yourself from him, yet he could probably spot the red coloring of your ears. Laughing at your adorableness, he moved his hand to place it against your cheek, wanting your eyes to look up at him "You can't hide from me, my dear. You said something along the lines of "I smell nice." Care to tell me more about that?" He was loving this, giving how wide his smile was, eyes as well, glowing with amusement. Seeing no way out of this, you decided to give him an honest answer. "Well...um...you have kind of a earthy scent. Like the smell of pine trees in a forest. It's very pleasing."
As you were explaining it to Alastor, his smile had soften, his hand continuing to caress your cheek. "There! That wasn't so hard, was it?" Still embarrassed, you shook your head to remove his hand, returning back into his chest. Chuckling again, his cheek continued to rub against your hair. "Wildflowers" you heard him say. Removing your head slowly, your eyes gazed up at him, "Huh?" His nose began to trace slowly along your hair, you swear you heard him inhale. "Your scent reminds me of wildflowers. Reminds me of the ones that use to grow in my mother's garden. Sweet and oh so delicate." His voice had dropped an octave when he said this, sending shivers down your back. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. If you weren't sitting on his lap right now, you would have collapsed on your knees at him saying that. "Thanks," was your response to him, face nuzzling further into his chest. He let out a hum, as he continued to do the same to you.
The both of you remained cuddled next to each other, wrapped in each others and the blankets warmth, as the glowing flames from the fireplace continued to dance. Alastor's hand was tracing circles on your back; the sensation drawing a yawn from you as your ears picked up on the sounds of his static heart beating. Your breaths had slowed, eyelids becoming heavy, and little by little, you fell into a deep sleep, cuddling with Alastor. Feeling your body relax, his arms tightened around you, hugging you closer to himself. "Sweet dreams, Y/N."
-END-
Sinners:
@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic
@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,
@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,
@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,
@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,
@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao
, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,
@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,
@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,
@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,
@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,
@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,
@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,
@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,
@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,
@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,
@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,
@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,
@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco
@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,
, @aconstructofamind @angiiiiiiiiie
@pumppkinlynn @erikaafernns , @silverpaw2 ,
@cosmiccandydreamer , @killer-nightmare0 , @visara-valentina
@thereallsaturnstar , @coffee-or-hot-cocoa ,
@fckedupandbeautiful , @alaskathestereodemoness , @fries11 ,
@toneystank-3000. , @doll-babe-a-tron-queenthousand
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skyahri · 8 months ago
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One Bed |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
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Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, and Shikamaru Nara.
Summary: Classic one bed trope.
Warnings: Kissing. Bed sharing. Lead up to smut but no smut.
Masterlist Ko-fi
- - - - -
Sasuke Uchiha
It was shortly after the war.
The village was still recuperating from the loss, as was every other village, but there were still missions that needed to be fulfilled.
You were off to do some security work for the Daimyo, who had specifically requested the two of you to watch over his land while they rebuilt.
The only issue was that upon arrival, it wss revealed you'd be sharing a single room.
"You aren't the only ones to have suffered during the battle. Half of my property was destroyed!"
There wasn't much you could do, so you bit the bullet and followed one of the Ladies in Waiting to where you'll be staying.
One room? Whatever. One bed? Absolutely not.
You protested. It was inappropriate, even if you had known Sasuke for well over a decade at this point.
"We are low on resources at the moment, Y/L/N-san, Uchiha-san. It's why we have asked for your assistance in the first place."
You looked at Sasuke, who just gave you the same bored expression he always has.
You thanked the woman and began getting settled in your room. Sasuke offered to sleep on the floor, which you told him not to bother with.
You'd likely be here a few weeks, so it'd be best if you were both comfortable.
Sasuke was nice enough to let you shower first, which you'd gladly taken after two days' worth of travel.
He waited patiently for you to finish so he could prepare for bed as well. It was late, almost midnight, and he was tired.
It was awkward the first night. You'd slept uncomfortably back to back with this weird air around you.
You'd put on your most conservative pair of pajamas despite how warm the room was, and that only made things worse.
The second night wasn't much better.
But by the third night, you both grew tired of the tension. It was difficult to be fully rested when you'd slept terribly, so you formed some kind of unspoken, mutual respect for now.
You'd opted for your normal nighttime attire - a pair of shorts and thin t-shirt. You already felt better.
Sasuke, on the other hand, had been grateful for your prudish clothing. He had never said anything before, not that he had the time to, but he'd always been attracted to you.
Your revealing pajamas were not helping his comfort, so while you slept better that night, he did not.
Nor the next night.
Or the night after that.
By then, you'd become very aware of his antics. On top of being physically aware that he wasn't sleeping, you'd also become annoyed by his poor attitude.
He was already an ass as is, you really didn't need him sleep deprived on top of it.
So that night, as you lay in bed next to him, you roll onto your stomach and prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him.
"What's your problem?"
"I don't have a problem."
"Really? Could've fooled me."
He tsked at you. Why'd you have to be so annoying?
You pushed yourself up so you'd be sitting on your knees, your hands flat on the bed so you could still lean forward to talk to him.
His eyes darted down to your chest before looking away entirely.
No way. There was absolutely no way.
"Are you... bothered by my clothes?"
"Don't be stupid." He snapped.
You tried to suppress a knowing smirk but failed.
So you leaned forward and kissed him.
Despite his surprise, he immediately responded to your kiss, going so far as to roll you over onto your back so he'd be on top of you.
"Maybe I am a bit bothered."
Kakashi Hatake
This is Kakashi’s first Kage Summit, and he asked you to be his plus one.
You accepted with no hesitation. You were anxious to get out of the village since the war ended and going out with Kakashi was sure to make it all the more interesting.
The summit was boring. That's a good thing compared to the last summit, but it still made you want to gouge your eyes out. They discussed the status of their villages and what sort of issues they'd been running into, blah blah blah.
When it was nearing midnight and everyone was growing tired, they agreed to call it a night and resume in the morning.
Everyone went to their respective quarters, but when you got to the Leaf Village's wing, there was only a single room with a bed.
Apparently, during the rebuild, they'd slipped up and only added a single room instead of the usual two, and no one had noticed (Thanks Sasuke).
It wasn't too big of a deal. You'd known Kakashi since your Genin days and slept in the same room plenty of times.
You were a bit surprised when he actually got into bed with you though.
Despite all those sleepovers, this was the first time you'd actually slept so close together.
You stared at him. Not on purpose, just happened to be doing so while your mind was racing.
"Is this an issue? I can sleep on the floor."
You shook your head.
"You sure? You were giving me quite the look."
"I was just... wondering what you'd look like under the mask."
You lied. You couldn't tell him how you were thinking about sleeping in bed with him and it's implications.
He snorted and did something that completely caught you off guard.
He pulled down his mask.
You blushed. How could you not? All these years, and he chooses now, the most random moment, to finally reveal such a wel kept secret.
And then he does something else that yo weren't expecting.
He leans forward and kisses you. You kiss back. He pulls away after a minute.
"I've been waiting to do that since we were teenagers."
You laugh at him, then pull him in for another kiss.
Shikamaru Nara
Shikamaru, being the lazy man he is, put off booking a room to stay in for so long that there was only a single room left st the inn.
You'd scolded him, and he took it, knowing he should've done it when he'd gotten the mission report.
The room was on the smaller side and contained only a single bed and dresser.
Neither of you were interested in sleeping on the floor for the next week, so you agreed to share the bed.
Something you wouldn't have done if you'd known Shikamaru was such a... uncharacteristically chaotic sleeper.
Seriously, he moved around more at night than he did during the entire day. Maybe it's all the pent up energy.
Within an hour of him knocking out, he was already sprawled out across most of the bed, leaving you two options: sleep on the edge or lay on him.
You tried to sleep in the bit of space he hadn't taken, really, but it seemed he was basically drawn to you.
You caved, allowing whatever was going to happen to happen, too tired to fight it any longer.
When Shikamaru eventually woke up, you were on his chest, one arm thrown over him and peacefully sleeping.
He got flustered and quickly tried to get out from under you, waking you in the process.
He was able to dart away without much suspension. Or at least he thought.
The next night was the same, minus the internal battle you'd had prior.
When Shikamaru woke up to the same dilemma, he decided it was best to fall asleep after you.
That night, he'd stayed awake under the guise of a mission report update for the Hokage.
You'd simply shrugged and gone to bed.
He followed when he was sure you were asleep, making sure each of you were on your respective sides of the bed.
He was surprised when he woke up with him on top you, head on your chest as if it was the most casual thing to happen.
He'd begin to stammer about, but stopped when you'd groaned.
"Settle down, would you?"
"I was just-"
"It's not that big of a deal, Shika, just go to sleep."
He listened to you, despite not understanding what was actually going on.
In the morning, he attempted to talk to you about it, but the conversation didn't quite go as planned.
"Yeah, you're a cuddler. Not much I can do about it, so it's whatever."
From then on, it slowly became more natural for your nights to get more personal, even once you'd gotten home.
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