#fic: the gods grow tired
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voxofthevoid · 6 months ago
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Hi! I just had the pleasure of discovering your work this week and felt compelled to reach out and express my admiration. I’m beyond impressed by the depth and realism of your characters. It’s rare to see characters so vividly written that they linger in the mind long after the story is over. The Kenjaku/Itadori story was (amongst others) a masterpiece of suspense and emotion. With that being said, what would you do with 11 or 52?
I'm extremely flattered, anon, and it's especially gratifying to hear that the characterization has struck a chord. It's the highest praise you could give me. Thank you so much 💙🥰
And I'm glad you enjoyed the kenita in particular! That's a dynamic that's fairly new to me, and it was a fun but taxing challenge.
The two sex curse ones, huh? Good choices! 11 is a fairly straightforward sex pollen story—not much angst or emotional complexity, just very charged sex—so let's go with 52:
52. i'm a waking hell, and the gods grow tired
A special-grade sex curse’s domain forces Gojou and Yuuji to fuck, and they get out of it physically unscathed, the curse vaporized, but neither of them takes powerlessness well, and the aftermath is ugly.
This was also hashed out in the DMs with @nearalways; I believe we kind of took the concept and each tackled it from our favored angles. Mine is, predictably, psychological fuckery galore, this time flavored with mutual noncon:
Ancient special-grade sex curse. The kind of domain expansion where the sure hit locks you into a contract. That way, it's not just a matter of overriding it with another domain. And the price of the domain being essentially unassailable could be that the curse can't attack the victims unless they either break the contract or finish it. It's just there watching, waiting for the victims to be exhausted.
The domain sex: Gojou laying Yuuji out and barely letting him speak while riding him, bent over his torso to hide Yuuji from the curse's view as much as possible.
Gojou would rip that curse apart, after. Gojou standing in the middle of the absolutely shredded curse, drenched in its fluids, and asking without looking at Yuuji if he's scared of him now. Yuuji mechanically answering he'd never be scared of Gojou-sensei.
Gojou being psychosexually obsessed with Yuuji after the event while feeling debilitating guilt and unhealthy possessiveness. Yuuji, meanwhile: Yes This Is My Normal Teacher Behaving Normally With Me. He Apologizes When I Fuck Him Sometimes.
Healing? No. Become dangerously codependent.
Man, I'd forgotten how much I want to write this...
Thanks for asking! I'll be rotating this AU in my head extra hard now.
Ask in response to the WIP Open Season
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the-one-that-weeps · 4 months ago
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Every time someone in this godforsaken fandom says "I think we've talked about misogyny enough" I want to hit them with a hammer. No we haven't.
We haven't even talked about the deep "Ruikasa&Akitoya Vs. literally everyone else" imbalance enough but imagine all of the people that get pressured into writing specifically for male/male ships simply because otherwise they won't get any appreciation.
Yes it's a cowardly thing but when you see Ruikasa having over 4000 fics and Ichisaki having like 5 in total obviously you're going to be discouraged. Obviously you'll be biased into creating Ruikasa instead of other ships.
And as someone who depends on appreciation in particular to do any work at all obviously that's going to have a lasting consequence. Some people spend 4 hours crying in front of a screen just for 3 people to like their work and leave, it's understandable if they lose passion for creating at all, you guys killed them.
It's even in how we handle m/m ships. You go into a fic that's tagged Rui&Tsukasa(platonic), someone in the comments always goes "okay but when do they kiss". You go to an action-packed longfic, someone always ends up going "okay but when do they kiss".
Fuck you guys. Actually. This is a silly piano tiles game about Hatsune Miku, we should be one of the MOST CREATIVE fandoms in history and somehow people still get mad over two boys not kissing immediately after getting introduced. It's so fucking difficult being a content creator in this fandom because you always end up having to take the same route. They meet they tease they kiss. End of story. "Oh you're doing something "lame" instead? -1 kudo. Bring me my yaoi next🖕"
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flowercrowngods · 1 year ago
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AAAAHHHHHGGG!! part 6 was so beautiful!!! sad in the most beautiful way!! 🥺🥺 I don’t know if you’d gonna post on AO3 but this is a fic I’m definitely coming back to read over and over again!! the rawness of their love and fear is captured so magnificently!!!!!!!
not sure if you plan on writing a part for chrissy and robin (i’m assuming she’s chrissy soul consuming, universal-law written love), i hope they get their happy ending too!!! 🥺🥺💚
gotta say one of my favorite parts was wayne’s moment with steve!!! I’ve seen a lot of fics who just make wayne back eddie up in whatever decision he makes and not really have his own opinion… and the way you wrote that just completely broke my heart about how much wayne cares for steve!!!
aaaaah this whole fic is absolute perfection to me!!! so glad I found your blog and got the chance to experience this story!! 💚🥺🥺
much love to you!!! 💚💚
aaah thank you so much!! i’m glad y’all like part 6, i felt like it needed to be a little sad, a little tragic, even with the happy ending on the horizon, because seven years or ten years or a lifetime of unrequited love and yearning aren’t easily overwritten, and they’re gonna have to learn to get the sadness and wistfulness out of their love. and work on it. and talk. and they kinda know that and it’s all raw and vulnerable. a plain and simple happy ending wouldn’t have been easily believable, i feel. but i also get the need and want for things to be easy and happy so yeah. i really love the way people love this story 🥺🥰
(am rambling again, i could always ramble about these two and the intricacies of their emotions in various fics of mine fhdhdh)
so thank you so much for saying that 🥺🥹🫶🤍
i’m definitely gonna put this on ao3, a few people have asked me to already. but i’m definitely gonna edit this a bit, make it flow better, etc etc — and yeah, potentially either add more buckingham, or write their own story. it’s just that it’s steddie week, and a similar focus on chrissy and robin would have felt misplaced (just like. yknow. writing angsty yearning barely-✨happy✨ ending fic. yknow yknow), but i kinda don’t want them to be left out.
god yes i loved writing the wayne part. that “i figured it would have been you” comment was something that i really wanted to write from the beginning of this :D with the way i constructed steve and eddie’s friendship/relationship in general, there’s no way that wayne 1) wouldn’t know, and 2) would simply take one side. he’d know that eddie moved on because otherwise he’d have been ruined. he’d also have seen the shift in steve at some point and been aware of their predicament/situations without judgment.
good papa wayne all round idk 🫶
anyway THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE 🥺😭🤍 appreciate it and you so much, hugging you so tight! 🌷🤍
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heartless-tate · 9 months ago
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Notice me! | Azriel X Freader
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summary; Azriel courting an oblivious reader.
a/n; Heyy! Just a little fic of being courted by Azriel. And you not being very aware of it. Hope you enjoy!
content/trigger warnings; knife, food, meat?, cussing, kissing, no use y/n, hint towards lust feeling, Azriel pining, Armen being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, thunderstorm mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it! 💝
word count: 3.1k. |. Part two
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A plate clattered against the table causing your attention to turn to the man in front of you.
You met his gaze as he waited for you to try his new dish, his eyes seeming to shine as the sun hit his eyes. You swear he always seemed to be effortlessly beautiful. It was angering in some ways, you had even seen him wake up looking like a god. No. Better than a god. It didn’t matter if you spent an hour in the mirror, swiping various products of different expenses on your face; the result would be the same. The same boring face you saw everyday.
A wonderful smell wafted from the plate, causing your empty stomach to growl loud enough to shake the mountains. The shadowsinger smirked, pushing the plate of food closer to you with a gentleness most men didn’t have. Your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands instinctively coming to paw at your stomach, hoping it would stop. Your eyes wandered down to the plate where a meal sat.
“I haven’t made this before. I wanted you to be the first to try it.” He spoke with every ounce of grace and elegance a god would have. His hands grasped the seat across from you, pulling it out and taking a seat. His wings shifted until finding a comfortable position in the chair. You nodded in response, picking the fork up before taking in the rather- gracious portion of food he had made for you.
A ribeye steak bigger than your hand sat on the plate. Seasoning of different kinds were smothered on it, and the smell of butter consumed your senses. Your mouth watered in response. Beside it were two sides. Your favorites.
Armen smirked from where she sat beside you, watching as you lifted the steak knife and fork. You were so oblivious. She had been watching for the last few years as Azriel desperately chased after you, and you never seemed to even notice. It was amusing. He has spent hours staring at you, and you never realized. And if she pointed it out, you just assumed you had something on your face. She knew he was growing restless. Not tired of you, but tired of your complete oblivion. These days he seemed ready to scream from the top of the roof that he loved you.
Azriel’s scarred hand clutched at your wrist. He gently took the knife and fork away from you, before grabbing your plate and proceeding to cut your steak into bite sized pieces. Armen snickered from where she sat, resulting in a glare from Azriel.
“Oh- Azriel I can do that-“ You started.
“I know you can.” He responded. He didn’t give back your plate until your steak was cut into bite sized pieces for you. He watched you place the first bite of steak into your mouth.
Your eyes rolled back and you let out a hum of approval, chewing the food. The flavor was delicious, and it was quite easily the best steak you had ever tasted in your life. It wasn’t too buttery. Or too seasoned. It was just right. The meat was tender.
Azriel’s wings rustled at your hum. His face shined with pure male pride. His eyes never left you once while you chewed and swallowed. He stood, taking the steak knife that was no longer needed into the kitchen.
Armen followed after him. He sat the knife in the sink, letting the house do its magic before turning his attention to Armen.
“You’re like a love sick puppy.”
“My love life isn’t your business.” Azriel responded, his face tight. His words were low, ensuring you couldn’t hear.
“Hm. All I’m saying is your ‘courting’ isn’t going to work.” Armen said, picking at her nail leisurely. She was like a cat. Her piercing eyes watched as Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her with a scowl. Before he could comment more, Armen spoke again.
“She’s oblivious. It doesn’t matter if you fix her food, or leave her favorite pastries everywhere so she finds them, she won’t get the hint. Literally. I’m getting seasonal allergies from the amount of flowers you’ve left for her everywhere in this house.Seriously, this place is covered in flowers. Either start professing love or drop this little crush.” She growled out, walking out of the kitchen.
Azriel stayed silent before whispering,“It’s not little.”
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“Yeah, don’t let me forget to grab a few early starfall gifts.” Mor said. You groaned loudly, rubbing your temples. Even the idea of her gifts made you want to cry. Her starfall gift for you these past few years have been a collection of ridiculously fuzzy socks. Every.Year.
Of course you were grateful, but everyone knew Mor’s gifts weren’t particularly good. You now had a drawer filled with fuzzy and odd colored socks.
Velaris was bustling today. Fae of all kids roamed the streets, some tending to their shops. Kids ran through the streets playing games. Everyone was out enjoying the sunny day. You and Mor decided to go shopping to pick up a few items. Your eyes wandered back down to your list, a few more candles, a book or two, and some lotion.
“Starfall gifts? I don’t think you need to shop this early for them-“
“Nonsense! It’s never too early to do gift shopping!” Mor said, cutting you off. You sighed and shook your head knowing it was hopeless to argue with her.
After a few trips to some stores, you both ended up getting lunch at Rita’s. You ordered a milkshake- apparently a new creation of a cold drink? None less, whatever they were, everyone had been going crazy over them in Velaris. And of course you also got your favorite meal. Mor ordered practically half the menu, content to eat her heart out. You didn’t blame her- food was good.
As your plates were sat down by the waitress, Mor eyed your food with a questioning look. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. “What? You’re looking at my food weird.”
“Oh. Well I’m just surprised to see you ordering a meal here. You know Azriel is gonna harp if you don’t eat his food.” Mor responded, shoveling food into her mouth as if she’d starve.
“Huh?” You countered.
Mor finished her food before rolling her eyes. She sighed deeply as if you had troubled her. “You know..” she said, waving her hands as if that would solve your confusion. When you raised your eyebrows with a puzzled face, she put her fork down.
“You know- when you eat something someone else cooked or you’re not hungry, and he’s cooked you a meal. And you refuse it- he gets all huffy and puffy! Like a broody motherhen.” She continued.
“He doesn’t even fix me food that often-“ you argued.
“Oh please! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Full course meal on the table for you. If only someone loved me that much.” Mor said, picking her fork back up. “Those meals weren’t from the house hun. All I’m saying is maybe you should pay more attention.”
For the rest of the meal, you both sat in silence as you pondered over her words.
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Cassian laughed  as you entered from the hallway. His eyes shined with amusement as you waddled to the counter with your shopping bags.
The sound was enough to draw a curious Azriel to the room. He immediately grabbed all your bags despite your complaints, setting them on the table. He nodded at you in response when you thanked him.
“I thought you were only shopping for a few things.” Cassian stated. He stood casually leaned against the table with a drink in his left hand. Azriel stood to your left, his wings expanded. His eyes were keen and watchful. You doubted he ever missed a single detail. His skin glistened with sweat, a musky bourbon scent coming from him. Cassian’s skin was sweaty too, evidence of them training together earlier in the day.
“Well, the candle store had a buy two get five for free deal. So I bought  four and got ten for free! Cauldron I love Velaris!” You squealed, and Azriel smirked knowingly. He had taken note of your recent obsession with buying candles. Cassian shook his head.
Cassian's face lit up with surprise as you handed him two candles. “So I got one for everyone else. This one smells like leather and the other vanilla. I figured you’d like it Cas.” You continued. He nodded in thanks. You turned to Azriel.
“I got you this candle because I know you love blueberries. And this one is supposed to smell like rainy days and lightning. And this one is books and bourbon!”
Azriel’s eyes never looked down to the candles you had shoved in his arms. His eyes stayed on your face as you happily ranted about the candles. When you finished and looked back up to his face, he had a soft look. It was one you don’t think you’ve seen him use before. His eyes were soft and looked like pools of honey, and his smile was gentle.
You watched as he sat down the candles on the table and turned back to you. “They’re perfect.” He responded. He was so memorizing. You just knew whoever he ended up with would be content. You struggled taking your eyes from him.Cassian growled playfully.
“Hey! Unfair! He got three candles! I only got-“
Cassian was cut off by Mor smacking him on the back of the head as she trotted to the kitchen. She had a lot of leftovers to put away. Azriel gave him a quick glare, silencing him.
You noticed he was wearing all his leathers, and siphons. His shadows whirled leisurely around his shoulders and wings. Azriel watched as your eyes creased in confusion. He sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a shimmer of hope at the fact you had gotten him more candles than Cassian.
“Rhysand sent me on a mission, I’ll be gone for a few days most likely. I’m going to spy on the human queens and make sure all is well there.” He admitted. He watched as your face fell. You quickly smiled again and nodded. His heart thumped like a hammer in his chest. Did you care? Would you miss him like he always missed you? He wondered if you couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t when he was away from you.
“Oh. I see. Be safe.” You responded, nodding slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the feeling in your chest. You had never felt it before. You wondered why all of a sudden you felt this way about him leaving.
His eyes softened even more. “I leave in an hour or two.” He whispered, head tilting to catch your eyes once more. Cassian had disappeared from the room all of a sudden, him and Mor talking loudly about dumb things in the kitchen. Leaving you and Azriel alone. “Let me cook you dinner before I leave.”
His eyebrows furrowed this time as you shook your head no. His smile dropped. He looked like a kicked puppy almost-
“I ate lunch with Mor.” You explained. Your explanation didn’t seem to comfort him as he shook his head in response.
“That was lunch. It’s time for dinner.” Azriel said firmly.
Your mind went back to Mor’s words. Pay more attention…what did she mean? What was there to pay attention to? Azriel cooked for everyone- right..? Your mind raced over your memories, trying to think of a single time you had seen Azriel set a plate down for one of the others.
“Alright then, fix me dinner Azriel.” You responded. Azriel smiled, pleased. His right wing flared, draping over your back. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. His wing was warm against your back, as it guided you beside him. It was much larger than  you were, towering over your head. As you entered the kitchen, Cassian and Mor immediately scampered out shouting something about extra training.
You watched Azriel move around the kitchen in a graceful dance of grabbing pans and pots. He kept his wings tucked in, to keep them from banging against counters and tables. His hair was messy from training, or like he had ran his hands through it more then once. But it never failed to frame his face. You watched as a few shadows dart around, grabbing various spices and ingredients for whatever new dish he’d make tonight. He set a pan down on the stove before turning to you.
His scarred hands gently grasped your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you on an empty space on the counter. He huffed a laugh at your squeak of shock. He patted one of your thighs gently before leaving your side and returning to his pan.
Your face flushed with embarrassment. He had lifted you as if you weighed nothing, showcasing his obvious strength. Everytime he touched you with his beautiful hands, it felt like everything stopped. As if the world had slowed to let you enjoy the moment. Your hands wrapped around your stomach, wondering what this weird feeling that had overcome you meant.
He moved swiftly, chopping ingredients and throwing things in various pots and pans. You quickly realized by smell alone he was making your comfort food. You remembered the night a storm had rolled in. Usually thunder and lightning didn’t scare you- but this was different. The booms and flashes were intense, shaking the ground and keeping you from sleep. You had stumbled to the house library in an attempt to distract yourself. But you only found Azriel instead. He had scented your obvious distress and took action immediately. He helped you settle on the couch with cushions and blankets before asking what a comfort food was. A good 15 minutes later he returned with a plate.
You don’t remember much pass that, you just remember becoming tired and sleepily. You remember feeling warm all of a sudden and then you woke up in your bed that morning.
“It’s almost done.” Azriel spoke, bringing you back from your memories. His eyes were distant as if he too was remembering that same night.
You smiled and thanked him as he handed you your bowl and a spoon. He made himself a bowl too. He took your bowl from his hands and sat it down, before grabbing you and setting you back on the floor. His hands stayed on your hips until he was sure you were balanced. He guided you to the sitting room with a fire.
Azriel didn’t eat until you took your first bite, ensuring you liked it. And of course, you did. It was warm, and comforting, like a hug in your mouth. It soothed your soul in ways nothing else could, the flavors easing your body from any previous aches. Azriel had never made a bad meal before. You both ate in silence together, with the comforting crackle of the fire and warming food. But as the time passed, you knew it came time for him to leave.
Your bowls sat on the coffee table. Both finished. The house made them disappear, taking care of them on its own. You were always amazed by its magic.
Your head snapped to Azriel as he stood. He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed and he almost looked like he wanted to chain himself to the wall before even considering leaving. He turned to your sitting form. His shadows seemed to move more quickly and sharper around his shoulders.
“It’s time for me to leave.” He whispered. He watched as you nodded solemnly. You smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach your eyes.
“Thank you for the meal.”
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You watched as Cassian hugged Azriel in goodbye, and Mor nod as her own way of saying goodbye. Azriel had taken his candles to his room earlier, before joining everyone in the hallway. When one left for more then a day, you all said proper goodbyes.
Azriel turned to you, walking swiftly. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his big biceps practically squeezing the life out of you. He practically had to hold himself back from purring when your arms wrapped around his neck in return. Everything darkened as his wings cocooned you. His wings blocked out the noises of the others, leaving just you and him. His head found solace in your neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses in a good way. Before you had time to question Azriel being touchy, Cassian yelled,
“Ok! Ok! We get it, Azriel. Let go of her before you suffocate her.”
Azriel lifted his head, and his wings dropped. His eyes stayed latched on yours. A few seconds passed before he tore his eyes away and scowled at Cassian. His teeth bared in silent warning. Cassian backed down and turned to have conversation with the others. Azriel released you from his grip.
“I’ll be back soon. Don’t starve. And I left some flowers on your nightstand. I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered to you, fiddling with his hands like a nervous school boy. Your eyes lit up and you smiled gently.
“Thank you Azriel. Goodbye.” You whispered back in response. His smile turned upside down.
“I told you, call me Az. Or whatever you want- just not my full name. We’re closer than that.” He said in a growl like tone. He watched as you nodded your head.
It was time for him to leave now. He sighed deeply. The others had gone silent watching the scene with interest. But he didn’t seem to care.
He leaned down to your height, his hands grasping at your chin. He turned your head before leaving a gentle but firm kiss on the side of your cheek. “Sleep well tonight.” He whispered before pulling away. You stood in shock at the door to the balcony, as he said his last goodbyes. He waved in an almost shy way at you before taking flight.
You stood still, flabbergasted at what had happened. Slowly your hand rose to your cheek.
Realization dawned on you- he hadn’t ever fixed food for anyone else other than you.
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a/n; hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want part two! 🌙
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avocado-writing · 1 month ago
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pairing: logan howlett x reader x wade wilson
rating: E, minors dni, 18+ (mmf threesome; resolved sexual tension; sex pollen; unprotected p in v sex; oral [f receiving]; double penetration)
words: 6.7k
summary: you, logan and wade are on a stakeout after reports of a new drug which only affects mutants. but what happens when you accidentally get a hit of it yourselves…? (the sex pollen fic from the poll! thank you @eupheme for betaing for me, i owe you my life!)
“I spy with my little eye…”
“Wade, I swear to god…” Logan’s voice is a low rumble, a warning.
“Awww c’mon, peanut! What else do we have to do? Indulge me in my childlike whimsy.”
“Let me guess,” you say, shelling a pistachio before throwing it in the air to catch it on your waiting tongue, “you spy something beginning with R-D, which is the rising damp, which is the fourth goddamn time you spied it because there’s nothing else in this fucking place.”
Wade huffs and throws himself back in his chair. 
“Killjoy,” he mutters, and goes back to carving obscene doodles into the side table with baby knife. 
On the first day you were happy to play along, just to ease the boredom and tension which came hand-in-hand with this arrangement. Now it’s been five of them, stacking on top of each other and getting claustrophobic-heavy, the three of you crowded into each other’s space and on the razor’s edge.
Something is going to break, and you’re worried it’ll be Wade’s nose under Logan’s fist.
What a stupid fucking mission. You should never have said yes.
Ever since the whole Void situation was resolved you, Logan and Wade have been X-Men adjacent. Not part of the group exactly but happy to play along if needed. This most recent assignment had been a request from Piotr - there was something going on downtown to do with trafficking drugs which affected mutants, and someone needed to keep an eye on it. Couldn’t be anyone from the mansion, they’re all hands on deck at the moment keeping an influx of kids in check. But the three of you? With no jobs between you and an urge to do good?
It was a problem with an obvious solution.
It’s a stakeout. Which means sitting and waiting and holy fuck is it boring. 
You can tell something is going on in the alley across the street but you’ve had strict instructions not to take action until you see the guy in charge: thickset man with a penchant for misdeeds and built like a brick shithouse. Once you have proof he’s involved, you’ll get the go-ahead to close in and shut the place down in whatever manner you see fit.
But until he comes in, your little trio has no choice but to stay put, watching petty criminals come and go with no idea they’re being monitored.
Life has revolved around watches from the dingy window. Usually two of you will stay up while one of you tries to get some sleep on one of the uncomfortable twin beds that have been provided, but it isn’t easy to drift off when it feels like the mattresses are made of cinder blocks stuffed with broken glass. It isn’t that you’re unused to being in each others’ spaces - if you’re not at their apartment they’re at yours, after all, you are friends - but this is different. You have the luxury of walking away from each other in normal day-to-day life when things gets too much. Here? Here, you’re stuck until you’re done with the job. You’re all tired, irritated, and desperate for entertainment. You’ve even considered chopping off your own hand to watch it grow back, just for something to do.
And the thing is that’s not the worst of it. Ever since the three of you returned from the Void there’s been something there. Something difficult to pin down, exactly.  A niggling little feeling worming its way through your body. Something which thrums every time Wade flexes the muscles in his hand and you see his long, strong fingers; every time Logan grits his jaw and the tendons in his neck throb. 
Oh, right. You sort of really want to fuck them both.
You don’t go through something that traumatic and not have deep-rooted feelings which surpass normal boundaries. You fought for each others’ lives. You’re bonded in a way people rarely are. And the more time you spend with them the blurrier the lines between platonic and fucking soulmate become. You’ve seen both of them stare at you - and each other - when they think you’re not looking, so you’re sure this isn’t something that only you are harbouring. It’s a secret desire harboured by all three of you.
Like you said, something is gonna break. And in this shitty little surveillance room? It’s gonna break soon.
A movement outside. The three of you sit forward to take a look at the evening’s street view, only to fall back into your chairs as it turns out to be a false alarm. Just a pedestrian walking by. You’re going to go insane.
You drum your fingers on your thighs just to keep them busy, then turn to Logan. 
“You got a smoke?”
He cocks a brow at you.
“You want a cigar?”
“Nothing else to fucking do.”
“Whoa, hey!” says Wade, putting his hand on Logan’s arm as he roots around in his jacket pocket, “No no no, you quit last year! Don’t start up bad habits again unless I’m the one convincing you to, pookie.”
“Wade, c’mon. I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t have something to do,” you groan. Plus, really, you’d kinda like something to suck on, just to relieve some of the ache in your belly.
As if Wade can hear your thoughts he pipes up again.
“Well if you’re that desperate to use your mouth, I know what we could play to pass the time…”
You and Logan groan in unison, and he balls his fist in a way which suggests it’s not long until the claws come out. Wade holds up his hands to signify peace.
“Whoa, chill out, honeybadger. No need to get scratchy. You don’t have to join in if you don’t want to… but it’s more fun the more people there are.”
Accepting there’s nothing else to pass the time, Logan lets out a long, exhausted sigh and lets Wade continue.
The mercenary licks his lips as if, for once, considering his phrasing. Then blurts out what he wanted to say anyway.
“We could play blowjob roulette.”
It was a foolish time to take a drink of your soda, because you spurt it out your nose. After a moment of mopping yourself up with your sleeve you manage a, “what?!”
“Well, oral roulette I guess, if we’re being PC about it.”
“Oh my god,” Logan groans, getting to his feet and stomping into the tiny excuse for a kitchenette, grabbing a beer and opening it with such gusto that the cap bounces off an adjacent wall.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything! We just spin the bottle and whoever it ends up pointing out deals out a round of Australian kisses for the other players. Relieves the boredom, and it’s fun to see how long everyone lasts.”
Your mouth is open, you’re sure of it. You’re looking at Wade in abject horror. This has got to just be part of his stupid bravado, right? Making an ill-timed joke?
Because the other option is he’s serious.
Logan drinks. You stare. Wade rabbits on.
“I’m just saying we used to play it at Sister Margaret’s all the time, when we were waiting for new marks to come in and didn’t have anything better to do! It wasn’t gay or anything except for, you know, the rampant homoeroticism of slurping everyone’s gherkin.”
“Did you… did you ever have to do it?” you ask, morbid fascination taking over. He scoffs.
“Did I ever have to… pookie, I’ve taken more loads than my building’s washing machine. Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty fucking great at it.”
He’s staring at you with an intensity which makes you feel like you’re on fire, but from embarrassment or enthusiasm you’re not sure. 
“So?” he asks, quietly, putting a hand on your knee. Your body burns. You swallow. You look to Logan. 
He sighs. Finishes his beer, but in a way which suggests he’s giving in. You see the way Logan’s teeth touch his bottom lip. The start of a fricative. 
He’s going to say fine.
Movement out of the window. You bolt up, knocking Wade’s hand away. He deflates.
“Aww. But I really wanted to - ”
“No, guys - look!”
They quickly crowd you, following where you point. A huge man walks into the alleyway, flanked by underlings, the bulk of him taking up the small space.
“There’s our guy,” you say, “let’s go.”
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You descend upon the alleyway in a flash of swords and claws. You tug your cowl up over your nose to protect your face, hand on one of your Brügger & Thomet MP9s as the three of you come face-to-face with the door you’ve been monitoring all week.
“So are we going in sneaky style, or—”
Logan rips the door off its hinges, throwing it down the length of the alley; he is desperate to be done with this. You exchange a look with Wade.
“Okiedokie, asked and answered I guess,” he sighs, grabbing his Desert Eagles from his holsters.
You both follow Logan who’s thrown himself into the middle of the lab claws-first. Two-thirds of the people scream and flee, the others stand their guard and grab their guns.
Fingers on triggers, you take a beat to examine the situation.
Equipment everywhere. Beakers and cylinders you can possibly guess the use for, set up on desks and synthesising something nasty. The boss is standing in the middle of the room, eyebrow cocked and mild annoyance plastered on his face. Bingo. You make a beeline for him, taking a couple of bullets in your flank as you go.
“Cover me!” you shout to Wade. He pulls his katana out of a guy’s head and throws you a bloodied thumbs-up.
“Got your back, pookie! Hate to see you leave, love to watch you spill entrails as you go!”
As if he was predicting your next action, you whip your knife out of your belt and stab it in an assailant’s belly, watching his warm guts slide onto the floor. He releases a strangled noise as he drops to his knees - you make a move to continue on your way to the boss only to feel someone pick you up.
“Shit!” you mutter as you’re hoisted into the air. Wade and Logan stop their onslaught to turn at the sound of your panic, their eyes both going wide as they see you restrained. With a twinned shout of your name they come running to help.
Aww, your boys. It’d be cute if you weren’t bracing yourself for the pain.
Your attacker launches you across the room. A couple of seconds go by as you fly through the air - and then into a table full of test tubes and pipettes.
A great cloud rises into the air. A cloud of spores?
Before you can get a chance to properly read the situation, Wade and Logan are at your side. Sturdy hands grasp around your forearms and you’re dragged to your feet. 
Of course, it goes unnoticed…but all three of you take in a deep breath.
“You okay, baby?” rasps Logan. 
“Yeah, I’m f— move!” you scream, shouldering him out of the way so you can sink your knife into the neck of the man about to spray bullets down his spine. As you rip through the soft skin at his throat something occurs to you. 
‘Baby’? Where did that come from?
Not that it isn’t nice, obviously, but… it’s unlike Logan to show that much tenderness ever. Especially with pet names.
Oh well, no time to dwell.
Picking bits of glass from your biceps you tank a punch from a man closing in on your left, parry his next couple of blows, then shoot him in the dick. Wade has called this a ‘low blow’ before which isn’t incorrect but honestly, there’s no time for fighting fair when it’s 3-versus-30. 
The boss has finally gotten involved. A pair of brass knuckles shines against his fist as he swings at Logan, a meaty crack filling the air in a way which you’re worried might actually have dented one of your friend’s ribs. Wade uses the distraction to stab a katana into the guy’s back, then another one a little further up - using him like a goddamn climbing wall. The boss roars like an animal and attempts to swat him off but there’s no use. His massive bulk is working against him, and Wade can be a fast little motherfucker when he wants to be.
Wade lets out a ‘peekaboo!’ as he pops up over the boss’s shoulder, pressing his pistol into the meat of his neck and firing. Blood sprays across the floor but somehow the guy doesn’t stop, not even when Logan picks himself back up and sinks both his claws into his stomach; it only elicits another snarl.
Okay, time to close.
You sheath your guns and go back to your knife, using Logan as a launchpad as you throw yourself off the arch of his back and into the air - stabbing down into the boss’s skull with a dull thunk.
A line of blood dribbles out of his mouth. He starts to fall.
“Uh oh - call me Ke$ha, because I’m yelling timber!” Wade warns. With a snarl Logan rips his claws free from muscle, snatching you off of the boss’s corpse as he stumbles forward under his own weight. Pulling you free you both lose your footing, and you crash down onto your friend.
You look at Logan.
He looks at you. 
Suddenly, his hands clasp around your hips. Probably you move you off of him…
And then you’re on fire. 
Like gasoline has made a line from his touch to your cunt, everything in you is set ablaze. Your pussy clenches and you’ve never felt so empty before - or at least not so aware of it.
There is a cock-shaped hole and it’s begging to be filled.
You expect Logan to freak out, you’re freaking out - you never thought you had a murder kink but you guess you’re never too old to find out something new about yourself - but he doesn’t.
Instead you just see him furrow his brow as if processing something; then acknowledge the press of his hardening cock rub against your thigh as he bucks up into you.
Oh no. Something is wrong.
When you feel Wade grab your shoulder and haul you back to your feet it’s the same, that delicious burning sensation rocketing through you… and from the way he moans as soon as his hands are on you, the feeling is mutual. 
“Fuck. Fuck,” he breathes. Yeah. You want to, that’s the issue.
You stagger away from him with wide eyes and electric skin, a beat passing between the three of you as the people left in the lab decide to give up the fight now their boss is toast. Hearts racing, hands wanting to reach out and touch.
Logan is the one to break the silence.
“We should call in and let the others know we’re done,” he manages. You nod.
“Yeah. Can we… can we go back across the street? I don’t feel so good.”
“Oh, don’t you go Spider-Man Infinity War Part 1 on me,” Wade chuckles. You don’t have the energy to work out what he’s referencing, especially when a jolt goes through your body to your cunt when you feel his eyes meet yours. 
Damn. This is bad. 
“Yeah. Of course, honey,” Logan manages. He goes to put his hand on the small of your back and then thinks better of it, though you can feel its nearness like a magnetic pull. You almost moan when he retracts his touch instead. Wade whips his phone out and fires off a message to let someone know a cleanup crew is needed as you stagger out of the alleyway and back across the street. 
You didn’t bother closing the door when you ran out, too desperate to monopolise on the chance of getting your mark. The three of you tumble back into the room you’d been dying to get out of just a scant few minutes ago, relieved to be in the privacy of its confines again.
A moment passes as all three of you adjust to the feeling coursing through your bodies.
“What’s happening?” you breathe, bracing your hands on the back of your go-to wooden chair and breaking it with the force of your grip. You wince at the sound of splintering, blood dripping down your palms before you feel it heal over.
“I’ve not felt like this since I first discovered how easy it was to masturbate to Good Housekeeping,” Wade groans, whipping off his mask as he flops down onto the battered-up-couch. Logan has made his way to the fridge again, practically ripping its door off to get to a beer which he downs in one swig. Fuck. It’s so sexy. You want to lick the muscles in his neck.
“It’s a pollen,” he states, voice rocky in a way which goes straight to the burning pit of your stomach. You and Wade exchange a look and then turn to him, waiting for further explanation. “Only has a reaction in mutants. Charles said it was something about putting the id into overdrive, like a fuckin’ adrenaline shot to the libido.”
“It… it makes you aroused?” you manage, attempting not to rock your cunt into the palm of your hand. Logan grunts.
“Was trying to be more tactful, but yeah, honey. That’s the idea.”
Honey. The pet name once again goes down your spine.
“Fucking sorry,” says Wade, “someone was manufacturing this stuff as a drug for what? To make mutants too horny to fight?”
Logan shrugs, still not tearing his gaze from his empty bottle, as if to agree it’s his best guess. Wade’s head falls back against the sofa’s arm.
“I mean, damn, they could have just shown me any frame from Magic Mike XXL and it would have had the same result. Seems like a lot of effort.”
Something about the way Logan talks sticks out to you, you circle back around to it. 
“Logan, you seem to know a lot about this stuff… have you encountered it before?”
Another beer grabbed and chugged down, the forward hunch in his shoulders physical evidence of his walls raising. 
“Once. Back in the day with the other X-Men.”
“How did you get through it? Does it go away?”
Logan doesn’t reply. Drinks.
The unspoken answer sinks in.
“Oh my god, you had to fuck it out, didn’t you?” gasps Wade. Logan doesn’t even growl. Jesus Christ he’s right. “Who was it? Storm? Beast? By the love of all things 100k+ enemies-to-lovers-slowburn, tell me it was Cyclops.”
Logan doesn’t dignify him with an answer, instead putting the empty bottle down with enough force you’re surprised it doesn’t shatter.
“It’ll pass. I just need to sit it out,” he reasons, the grit in his jaw suggesting this isn’t the optimal solution. You feel your eyebrows tug together, a crease of concern settling between them.
“But…”
“I’ll be fine.” The way he says it, he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone. With the room in the air practically throbbing he heads to the bedroom, leaving you and Wade alone.
Holy shit. You and Wade are alone.
Your eyes wander over to him, to find his gaze is already resting heavy on you. Your skin lights up.
“So, uh,” he starts, shifting himself awkwardly where his hard-on is trapped in his suit, “you read any good books lately?”
That does help to alleviate the tension and you find yourself chuckling, only for the relief to be ablated when your empty pussy pulses. You whine.
“Wade…”
As soon as you say his name he’s rushing over to you, helping you sit down on the ruined chair. You both moan as hot skin slides against hot skin. 
“Look, it isn’t…” you groan as you slide your hand up his bicep. Fuck, he’s strong. “...it isn’t a crazy idea to help each other out, right? We’re friends. It’s just two friends giving each other a hand…”
Wade dips down to run the bridge of nose along the line of your jaw, letting his lips drop to the pulse in your neck.
“Just friends…” he mutters. You buck up into nothing. Oh, god. You’re going to die here. “Baby?”
Oh shit, oh fuck. You want him to call you that over and over again, stamp it into your fucking mind.
“Yeah?” you reply, the word ripped rawly from your throat.
“I wanted to do this before we even left this goddamn apartment, you think I might have changed my mind after the mutant viagra?”
He pulls back just enough for you to see the seriousness on his face. No, he’s not joking, not saying something dirty just because he thinks it’s funny. 
He’s saying it because it’s true, and it’s both thrilling and terrifying. 
“Can I?”
Oh, it’s so tempting to say yes yes yes… but the more tempting thing is to tease him. Just a little.
You hook your leg over his shoulder and he groans as you dig your heel into the muscle of his back. He groans loud and long.
“Wade?”
“Mmm?”
“Ask me properly.”
His breath hitches in his throat, and you’re pretty sure he’s making a mess in his suit.
“Fuck, can I eat you out, baby? Please?”
You nod so fast you fear you’ll break your neck.
Wade lifts you like you weigh fucking nothing at all, strong arms scooping you up and bringing you to the couch - desperate for more space. His hands move quick and roughly as he goes to the pants on your suit, so wracked with need his fingers shake just from the promise of getting to touch you properly. You help him as much as you can, toeing off your boots and helping him tug your underwear off along with your waistband. His eyes widen as he realises your panties are in his hands. He takes a moment to run his thumb over the cotton of them and he fucking moans. Oh, god damn it, you’re going to be fucking ruined.
“Fuck. Never seen a pussy look this good,” he breathes as he finds himself face-to-face with your dripping cunt. You’re already so wet that it’s embarrassing and, while it would be easy enough to blame on the pollen, you know that you’ve wanted this for months. When he drags his tongue up your puffy, desperate folds, you pretty much combust.
“Oh shit,” you groan, wrapping your other leg round his face to hold him flush against you - not that Wade needs any convincing though, because you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck you with his mouth before. He buries himself in you, scarred hands reaching up to dig into the soft skin of your thighs and keep you steady. He wants you at his own pace, it seems, and is strong enough to make it happen. Fuck, you are not complaining.
Wade’s eyes flit upwards to see how you’re reacting as he moves his whole face side to side to bury himself into your cunt deeper. It’s like he’s trying to find where your scent is the strongest and, honestly? With what you’ve heard about this pollen stuff? Seems right on track. He has no hair for you to bury your fingers in so instead you press your hand to the top of his head and pull him closer, because god knows you don’t have the ability to vocalise it. You sink your fingernails in so he knows, though.
Holy hell you’ve never felt so good. The pollen is heightening everything, each movement he makes into you shooting shockwaves through your nerves. Wade’s tongue is insistent in exploring every inch of you, pressing bluntly into your clit; lapping at the wetness seeping from you like he’ll die if he can’t taste what he’s doing to you; dragging down to your ass and toying with you there, too. Yes, fuck, anything he goddamn wants. When his teeth skim the needy folds of your cunt you jackknife into his mouth, almost breaking them clean out of his gums.
“Holy shit, babe. What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles, pupils so blown wide with lust that his eyes are eclipsed with black. You chase after him with your hips.
“Not you, and that’s the problem,” you harrumph. He grins and you see how covered with your slick he is and fuck you are going to die here. 
“I’ll take care of you. That’s what friends do, right?” he asks, putting emphasis on the word you’re both masquerading behind. When you reach out with a searching hand he threads his finger through yours wordlessly, using the other to grab a pillow so he has something to fuck up against. You feel a tiny bit bad for not offering to help but you know he’ll get his in time - in fact just thinking about sucking his cock your mouth begins to water.
He presses his palm into yours as he goes back to your cunt with his mouth. It takes only moments for him to start up his desperate pace again, tongue sinfully sweet, and you’re chasing and chasing…
Stars explode in your vision and in your blood. The noise you let out is feral, a euphony of pleasure and you don’t care who hears. Wade’s eyes drift close as he tastes your orgasm directly at his lips, drinking you down. You’re certain his hips stutter as he comes just from getting you off. Oh god it’s so hot.
Oh god, you’re not done.
Wade surges up your body and kisses you ferociously, you moan at the taste of yourself he gives back. 
“Fuck, yes, do you taste that, baby? What did I do to you? Holy fuck you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen…”
“Wade, I need you.”
“Yeah, fuck, okay. Let me get this stupid sexy suit off…”
Hands begin to fumble messily, needily at each other’s zippers in order to strip. You sit up to get a better handle on him—
And freeze when you see you have an audience.
Wade follows your gaze to where Logan is standing in the bedroom doorway. He’s managed to get his suit off and change back into his jeans, though you can’t imagine he’ll want to stay in them for long the way his trapped cock is staining dark blue denim even darker. He’s gripping the doorframe with such force that his claws have popped out, eyes a matching pitch black to Wade’s, chest heaving as he watches the show.
“You okay, honey badger?” Wade drawls, a cocky smile dragging across him. Logan grunts. Swallows hard. You go for a softer tactic.
“Logan, sweetheart, you wanna join in?” your voice is husky as you ask, oh so inviting. Logan squeezes his eyes shut and his fist tight, taking a chunk out of the wall.
“Get into the goddamn bedroom, both of you,” he growls. The two of you absolutely do not need to be told twice. Partially undressed you vault over the back of the dishevelled sofa, letting Logan lead the way. As soon as you’re within arms’ reach he snags you around the waist and pulls you in for a kiss.
Logan kisses like he wants to devour you. Rough, commanding, dragging his tongue into your mouth as if trying to claim you. Oh, you’ll let him a hundred times over. You mewl when his hand reaches down you cup your still dripping pussy, immediately swiping a thumb against your clit. It pulses as if Wade didn’t just pull an orgasm out of you.
“Fuckin’ needy little thing,” he snarls, delighted. You reach down to grab the bulge he’s rocking, squeezing hard enough to get him to groan.
“Look who’s talking,” you chuckle. He taps at the top of your suit, an instruction. 
“Off,” he says, but that’s as much as he gets to say, because Wade grabs him by the beard and steers him in for a kiss. You pause for just a second to see what will happen but clearly you needn’t have worried - Logan moans into your friend’s mouth, grabbing a handful of Wade’s pretty decent ass and digging in his fingers. While they’re busy you finish stripping, going for the zipper on the back of the red suit and pulling it down. It’s such a goddamn stupid design having it at the back like a goddamn prom dress - but at the moment you’re kinda thankful for it because it means you get to kiss along the revealed plain of skin. Wade has such beautiful fucking back muscles, you’ve stared at them for long enough to memorise every damned one.
He steps out of the suit when you get to his feet - yeah, he did come just from eating you out earlier and holy fuck are you proud - and lets out a strangled noise when you bite the meat of his asscheek hard enough to leave a mark.
“Fuck, are you gonna rim me? Because if so I’m a thousand percent down,” he chokes, pulling away from Logan’s mouth and leaving a string of spit between them, evidence of a messy kiss. You shrug.
“You want me to, baby?”
Wade seems to have a crisis of faith as he considers this, letting Logan nibble down the length of his neck; eventually he shakes his head though.
“No, I wanna be inside you, like, yesterday,” he confesses. 
“I’ve got enough room for two,” you state, so absolutely sure the pollen will accommodate that you don’t even need to think about it. Both Wade and Logan suck in a breath at that idea.
“Fuck, baby, aren’t you just perfect,” Logan drawls, grabbing you by the hips as you stand up and pulling you to the pathetic twin bed this apartment was provided with. Not how you wanted this first time to go down but hey, at least it’s going down at all. No longer just a dirty fantasy you bury your fingers into your cunt imagining but a real bonafide liaison (boner-fide liaison, Wade’s voice in your head pipes up).
You paw at his jeans, desperate to have all three of you naked and ready. There’s nothing to hide between you any more. Any boundaries have been not only crossed but decimated, absolutely destroyed beyond repair, and you couldn’t be happier. When his cock falls heavy into your palm you can’t help but suck air in through your teeth at its sheer size. Logan chuckles, gravelly and tempting.
“Oh it’ll fit, baby,” he coos, as if reading your mind. Fuck. Yep, it will. There’s no two ways about it. You’re having both Wade and Logan inside you if it kills you.
He wraps you in his arms before you can have any more thoughts on the matter and pulls you down onto the mattress with him, the pollen in your veins making you feel every touch like the end of a live wire - yet you keep coming back to get shocked. Logan positions himself under you, chest-to-chest, grinning at the way your nipples rub against the coarse and gorgeous hair of his chest. There’s a slapping noise and you realise it’s Wade’s hand on Logan’s thigh, encouraging him to move up the bed.
“Big boy, you know you have to scoot up if this is happening. I’m all for fucking the same pussy together but you have to be realistic…”
Obscured by your body, only you get to see the way Logan rolls his eyes fondly at Wade’s blabbering. He manouveurs you both to allow Wade room to kneel on the mattress behind you and you gasp at the feeling of their cocks bullying at your entrance.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, body on fire and desperate to be extinguished by them. Logan hums in your ear.
“I know, baby, I know. We’ll take care of you.”
“And each other. I got sex-pollened too, old man,” Wade harrumphs, rubbing his head against the slick lips of your cunt. 
“Nobody’s forgetting you, princess,” he murmurs, “now be good and put me inside.”
Logan probably misses the soft hiss Wade lets out at that, but you feel the way the mercenary’s hand wraps around his cock and presses Logan to your empty cunt. You moan in pleasure as he follows the path Wade has laid out and pushes himself inside of you, no resistance given. It takes you only a couple of seconds to adjust to the pure size of him. Holy shit, if this were any other time you’d be falling apart by now, but the way your body pumps with desperation suggests one dick alone isn’t going to be enough.
“You okay?” Logan rumbles by your ear. You cling onto him for dear life, nodding.
“Yeah. Fuck, Wade, I know you’ll fit, you’ve gotta fuck me too.”
Wade doesn’t even have an answer for that. Instead you feel his thumb tug at your lips, stretching you for him - or just watching the way Logan fills you, getting off on the filthy way you’re plugged. Another cock begins to press at your already stuffed hole and you whine.
“S’okay, I gotcha,” Logan says through gritted teeth as he feels Wade’s length slide along his own, the feeling almost overwhelming for him. You drop your head to his shoulder and choke on your own spit as Wade forces himself inside of you. Your cunt feels like it is about to burst into flames in the most satisfying way possible, flowering open between them both.
“Fuck, never felt anything so goddamn tight in my life…” Wade manages. Eventually he bottoms out alongside Logan, both of them sitting snugly inside of you, sharing you, clutched in your warmth. 
“There we go,” Logan growls. “You okay, baby?”
Not knowing if the question is aimed at you or Wade you both whine a yes. Logan laughs and you feel his chest move beneath you, all muscle and heat.
“I’m gonna move now.”
He drags himself out of you, inch by glorious inch, like a match striking against a box and sparking an ember. A deep ragged breath shudders through you at the feeling of it but it is nothing compared to how he slams back inside. Lights flood your periphery. You are going to fucking die between these two men and that is fine. Heaven, even.
Once Wade feels Logan’s rhythm it is too much of a competition for him not to match it. The mercenary’s arms fall either side of your bodies to support himself as he works himself in and out of you, sliding deep as Logan retreats to the tip. Your cunt makes a lewd noise as they piston inside of you and you have never cared about anything less in your life. You are bathed in light, high off this, euphoric over being fucked. A tiny rivulet of drool falls from the edge of your mouth into Logan’s chest hair and he curses at the glorious rawness of it all.
Above you, Wade has finally found his voice again.
“Look at you taking us so well. Oh, fuck, goddamn. I’ve wanted you like this for so long. Remember when we were neighbours, honey? Those guys who you used to bring home… fuck, baby… I used to give myself the old low-five to the sound of you getting fucked…”
You make a pathetic little noise which spurs him onwards. Wade’s mouth drops to your ear.
“...and I used to get angry because I knew I could do it better myself.”
“Oh my god Wade…” you whisper. Tears are beginning to pool in your eyes at the way you’re starting to get overstimulated, two cocks hitting that sweet spot inside you verges on being too much. Were the pollen not still in full force you’re sure you’d need to tap out.
“And you?” Wade’s hand grips Logan’s bicep, squeezing appreciatively. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up every morning and see you shirtless on my couch, and not be able to fuck you? You do it on purpose, peanut, I swear…”
Logan chuckles again, that deep honey-rich sound eked out in magnitudes. 
“And what if I do, Red?”
Wade pauses in his thrusting, you don’t have to see him to know that his eyes are wide.
“Wait, what? For real?”
“Wade!” you whine, reaching over to slap at his arm, annoyed that he’s stopped moving. “Can we all just agree we’ve gotten off to the thought of each other and we’d have fucked eventually anyway?”
The men either side of you seem to think it’s a good compromise to come to and redouble their efforts. All you can do is to cling onto whatever muscles you’re able to find and ride the wave of pleasure. Fireworks go off in your synapses, brain a messy goo of euphoria, cunt fucked out and thoroughly taken care of. 
They speed up, thrusts getting messy and arrhythmic and yet still somehow matching, and you know that they’re going to come together. What a fucking treat, how divine, oh god. Logan’s hands sink into your ass to keep you anchored as his cock goes faster, skin slapping on skin as his sac moves against Wade’s - causing the merc to let out a string of curses - and you’re suddenly flooded with his warm, sticky cum pumping inside you in jets. Wade whines at the feeling of himself being doused and follows Logan’s lead. The filthy cocktail of them drips around both their lengths and out of your hole, falling onto the pathetic mattress below. One last little nudge of the hips is all it takes to push you over the edge again. Your next orgasm is dragged out of you… but you know your body will demand more.
For now, though, respite. The urge to reach that peak again immediately has at least settled for the moment.
“Holy fuck,” you sigh. Logan hums an affirmative note, fingers playing with the small of your back as Wade peppers kisses across your shoulderblades.
“We should go on stakeouts more often, if this is the nice little bow everything gets tied up in,” Wade sighs, dreamily. You nod against Logan’s chest. His hair rubs your cheek deliciously. Your pussy throbs again, reminding you this dirty escapade needs to continue soon. “So what does this mean? Are we a little mutant charcuterie now?”
Your brow furrows as you try to parse what Wade has just said.
“Oh. Wade, baby, do you mean ‘coterie’?”
Logan bursts out laughing, a noise you’ve never properly heard before, and it has you grinning - and Wade, too, even though he grumbles a little at being corrected. Their cocks jostle inside you and you feel them getting hard again and, as you prepare yourself for round two, it’s nice to know that whatever the three of you face at the end of this will be happy.
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Three days later, you’re laid across the couch, head in Wade’s lap and legs in Logan’s, all tangled together as you get the single worst telling-off of your life.
“Non-lethal mission, Wade! How many times did I have to tell you, it was meant to be non-lethal!” Piotr shouts down the line. Wade grimaces.
“Look, there were other things we had to sort out first, okay? We kinda forgot about the no-killing part. Besides the guy can’t traffic drugs if he’s dead,” he confesses. You can picture Piotr’s disappointed face.
“Other things!? WHAT other things, Wade?!”
“Okay so there was this horny pollen, and we all had to—”
Logan grabs Wade’s phone and hurls it across the room. It shatters into pieces against the wall. Wade gawps.
“Hey! That was new! Well, okay, not new, but it wasn’t cracked. Well, it was cracked, but it had all my best dick pics on there!”
“You can take new ones,” Logan states. 
You smile. Yeah. The charcuterie is nice.
1K notes · View notes
l1tw1ck · 2 months ago
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Simeon's Devotion
Sub!Bottom!FTM!Priest Simeon x Dom!Top!AMAB!Holy Knight Reader
Word Count: 2,410
Reverend Simeon, plagued by sinful thoughts of a certain holy knight, is suddenly struck with a high fever and abandons his God
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AFAB Language Used | 2K Anniversary Request: For a Simeon Fic | [Breaking the Thermostat]
CW: Non-Con, Heavy Religious Themes, Dom/Sub, Virginity Loss, Bleeding, Size Difference, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Belly Bulge, Womb Fucking, Squirting, Creampie, Kidnapping
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You knock loudly against Simeon’s doors, heavily injured. You hear the sound of shuffling and see the lights turn on inside. Moments later, he opens the door for you.
Simeon calls out your name in shock. “What happened to you?!” He helps you inside.
“Ran into some demons..” You murmur, sitting down on his couch. “Can you heal me?”
“Of course!” Simeon hastily removes your clothes, leaving you in just an undershirt and boxers. You're both already used to this. “How many this time?”
“I wanna say…30?” You watch him kneel down and use his divine powers on your wounds.
“30?! Did something attract them?”
“I’m not sure. I was on patrol and everything seemed normal. The monsters looked strange too. They all looked like distorted versions of God and they were muttering things like ‘sinner’ and ‘dirty’.” 
“That's strange..”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You reach to rub your temple but Simeon quickly heals your headache. “Could I have something to eat? I know you're probably tired so something like crackers would be fine.”
“You need to eat a real meal. I don't mind cooking for you. You can sleep over too, all your clothes are washed.” Simeon finishes your last wound and stands up. It's very common for you to sleep over at Simeon’s due to exhaustion since demons usually show up on the outskirts of town and you live a bit further away. “Think you can take a shower?”
You stand up and groan, the sound making Simeon twitch. “I think so. Thanks, Simeon.”
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“God must be disappointed in you. So much for being a priest.” You say, staring at Simeon. He’s wearing sexy see through lingerie and an extravagant matching sheer silk robe. His legs are spread and he’s leaning against his bed frame. His tears are glistening against his cheeks, they’re shining like glitter. “You're nothing but a dirty sinner.” You move his panties aside.
Simeon looks at you, batting his eyelashes. Another tear falls down his cheek. “You’re my god now.”
“That’s right, baby. You’re mine.” You slowly begin to ease your cock inside him. “And I’m yours.” You press your hand against his pelvis, a pretty marking appearing on it.
Simeon suddenly wakes up moaning your name with his hand stuffed in his underwear. He gasps and yanks it out. He quickly wipes his hand on his clothes and begins to pray. “Please deliver me from temptation.” He repeats the same phrase over and over but as his body begins to grow hot, his prayer becomes strange.
“Please give me [Name]’s cock–” Simeon gasps and covers his mouth. “No…Forgive me— I need his co—” He covers his mouth again. He can't talk. He attempts to pray silently but that doesn't work either. It just makes him feel even more horny.
He begins to absentmindedly remove all of his clothes, his hands moving on their own to touch his wet pussy. He leans back, eyes out of focus, and begins to touch himself but he doesn't really know how. He just rubs his folds, which feel extremely sensitive. “I’m…I’m a sinner..” He mumbles, still out of it. “And a slut.”
“Only [Name] will accept me now.” Simeon brings his hand up to his tattoo and presses on it, a wave of pleasure flowing through him. 
He stumbles out of the bed and drunkenly walks to his guest room, where you’re sleeping. Knocking didn't cross his mind as he opened the door. 
“Si- Simeon?” You ask sleepily, sitting up. “Is something wrong?” You can't tell that he's naked. You move to sit on the side of the bed and squint at him.
“Yes..” He says quietly, stepping towards you. He kneels in between your legs. “I need you.”
“What?!” You recoil. “Are you okay? Are you drunk?”
“I’m not drunk.” Simeon presses kisses along your legs down to your feet. “I’ll do anything you want, [Name]. Anything.”
“I think you need to drink some water…you're not thinking straight.” You get off of the bed. As you try to head towards the door, Simeon stops you.
“I don’t need water, I need you.” He pulls you closer, he’s somehow stronger than before, and forces you into a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to pass on his ‘fever’ to you. Heat rushes through your body as your rational thoughts dispel like bubbles. He pulls away and looks at you lovingly. 
“Simeon...” You hold his chin, speaking with a loving tone. “How beautiful.” You mumble. He moans your name breathily.
“Kneel for me.” You order. Simeon kneels once again. You pull down your shorts and boxers at the same time. His eyes widen, hearts forming in them, when he sees your thick length. The process of becoming a Holy Knight can alter someone's body in major ways but he never knew it could change by this much. “Open your mouth.” You run your fingers through his hair.
Simeon opens his mouth and lets you slide your cock inside it. His mouth is unbelievably hot. He can feel the corners of his lips stretching to fit you. The thought of you stretching his pussy open next makes him moan. He stares into your eyes as you begin to thrust. You're sure they're glowing. 
“Your mouth feels amazing.” You moan. Simeon moans as well. “‘S perfect for me..” You speed up your thrusts. He happily allows you to fuck his mouth. He closes his eyes and focuses on your voice. He’s so aroused it's becoming painful.
You tighten your grip on his hair as your thrusts become unruly and desperate. He looks at you again, this time with tears in his eyes. But the tears aren't because he’s upset. “You look so pretty when you cry.” You groan as you come inside his mouth. You slowly pull away as Simeon swallows your seed without hesitation. You're still hard and you both want more. You pick him up and slam him onto the bed. Somehow, the both of you are able to see perfectly in the dark. Maybe it has something to do with the glow in your eyes.
You spread his legs and smile at how wet he is. The marking on his lower stomach glows faintly as you physically observe his pussy with your fingers. He squirms around cutely. You kneel in between his legs, mirroring what he did earlier, and bury your face into his pussy. Simeon moans. “Yes– oh- yes~!” He sucks in a breath. “[Name]~!” It's like he's ascended to heaven. 
You drag your tongue up to his clit and gently suck on it. It quickly and unnaturally swells in your mouth. It feels like he’s stuck on the edge of an orgasm, although it feels good nonetheless. You slip a finger into his hole and then another when you realize how easily it entered him, despite his tightness. “Ooh- oh, [Name]~” Simeon squeezes your fingers tightly as you attempt to finger him. The constant flexing of his walls make it difficult to move them but you don't mind. You’re more interested in how that’ll feel when you fuck him.
He can tell he's not going to come from this. He's not sure why, it feels like there's something blocking him from doing so. “Put…put your cock inside me, please~”
You smile and move away, standing back up. “Of course, my love.” You lick your lips and line up your cock with his pussy, slowly coating your tip with his slick. He bites down on his lip and uncontrollably twitches as you begin to sink into his sopping warmth. He throws his head back and grips the bed sheets while moaning shamelessly. You're barely inside him. His entire pussy is throbbing so heavily, it's almost like a second heartbeat. Blood soon spills from your penetration. 
The true representation of his sin.
He moans your name with his enchanting voice. Your cock ‘knocks’ on his cervix and strangely enough, it seems to be allowing your entrance. Like it wants you to enter his womb. You don't think about how that should be impossible and slide further inside him. “It feels– feels so—” He gasps, squirting. His eyelashes are fluttering rapidly.
“There you go, baby. Come for me.” You rub his clit with your thumb. He writhes around, no longer squirting but his cunt’s still squeezing you like crazy. He isn't able to think about anything at all, his brain is overloaded. The outline of his tattoo is becoming a bright blue. “Good boy…keep going.” You praise him.
Simeon wants to say your name again but he is completely unable to speak.
“Let’s make up for all your years of abstaining.” You start to thrust. He slowly comes back down to earth with each thrust you make. 
“Ah–” His eyes are sparkling with tears. “You’re so big…stretching me out~” 
“That’s right, I’m making your pussy fit the shape of my cock.” You slowly rub the bulge on his stomach, fucking him at a slow pace. “Your body’s gonna remember me and only me.”
“That's– that’s all I want~” Simeon moans. “Only you~”
“So pretty…” You brush his hair out of his face. He looks like a painting. You bring your hands to his waist and slowly build up to a faster pace. He reaches for you so you lean in. He wraps his arms around you.
“I love you.” He says in a shaky tone.
“I love you too.” You look into his eyes. For a brief moment, he realizes this isn't the real you, then he brushes it off. He feels strange. “My sweet Simeon.” You kiss him. The bed starts rocking due to your quickened thrusts. You separate from the kiss, some saliva dripping down his lip.
He looks down and notices the marking on his womb is glowing and the same color as his eyes. His desire has been satisfied. It’s all over. He looks up at you, suddenly shaking like a scared rabbit. The artificial light flickers out like a used lightbulb. He can't see you clearly anymore. The only lights are the glow in your eyes and the faint moonlight. “[Name]?” He asks.
“Hm?”
You're still…you’re not aware like he is. He suddenly feels disgusting. He forced you into this. Even if he wasn't completely conscious. He should tell you to stop, but he doesn't want to. Is it so wrong to want a little more? “I…I-” He stutters. “Come- come inside~” If he can't have you, maybe he can have a part of you.
You kiss his cheek. “Of course.” You come inside of him only moments later. It feels like he forced it out of you. You look at him with an exhausted but happy expression before passing out on top of him. He doesn't try to move you.
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You slowly wake up. You look around the room and notice a stain on the floor that you didn't notice before. And your bedsheets seem to be different too. You also feel a little strange. Refreshed, but strange. You get up and leave the guest room. You can smell coffee so you go down to the kitchen. “You're up pretty early. Don't you usually sleep in on Tuesdays?”
Simeon shrugs, not looking at you. “I felt like getting up early today.”
“Well, I’m not doing anything today. Maybe I’ll make breakfast this time?”
“It's okay. I’ll make it.”
“If you insist.” You know you can't convince him otherwise. “I wanna do something for you though. You deserve a gift.”
“Protecting my town is more than enough.”
“You’ll never change, huh?” You chuckle. “You know, the bed sheets look different from last night. Am I crazy?”
Simeon breaks the mug in his hand. You shoot up from your chair and rush over to him.
“I- I’m okay.” Simeon heals himself. “There wasn't anything in it yet.” 
“Good. You…seem weird today.” You notice he's not making eye contact with you.
“I..” He presses his forehead onto your chest and frowns, tears forming in his eyes. “I did something horrible last night.”
“What do you mean?” You bring him into a hug and gently rub his back to comfort him.
“Please…please don't hate me.”
“How could I hate you?”
“Last night…something strange came over me. I wasn't fully in control of myself and I forced you to…to..” He begins to sob.
“Simeon?” You ask, concerned.
“I forced you to have intercourse with me!” He blurts out, pulling away from you. He turns around and doesn't look at you.
You pause. “It must’ve been the work of a demon. It's okay, it's not your fault. It wasn't my ‘first time’ but…was it yours?”
Simeon’s eyes widen. “That wasn't your first?”
“No.”
He bites down on his nail. “When?”
“Um…maybe a decade ago?”
“Before you became a knight? And you haven't since then?”
“...Yes.” You assume he's uncomfortable due to his beliefs.
Simeon sighs. You were ‘reborn’ during your ceremony so you’re technically a virgin but you still have the experience. “Are you going to remain celibate?”
“I…well, I hope to find someone in the future. To marry, of course.”
“Oh.” He clenches his fist. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in?”
“I suppose I’ve caught a liking to Solomon, he—”
Simeon whips his head around. The look in his eyes is scary. “No.” He grabs your shirt. “No. You can't. You can't leave me.”
“Simeon?” You look at him in disbelief.
“I…I’m not letting you leave.”
Simeon looks at you sleeping peacefully on his bed. He isn't sure how, but he caused you to pass out and he was able to carry you here. He didn't even break a sweat. Due to a holy knight’s ability to neutralize certain forms of demon magic, Simeon is sure he isn't using that as you would've been fine if he was. But that leaves more questions to be answered.
He slides his hand down to his lower stomach and touches the glowing blue mark on his womb. It hasn't gone away. What is it? If it's not demonic then is it holy? How could this be holy?
He gently caresses your face. “I’m sorry, but I can't allow you to leave.”
You’ll be missed in the order of the holy knights but no one will worry when Simeon tells everyone he has bigger plans for you.
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1K notes · View notes
miupow · 3 months ago
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I need a fic where pregnant reader feels so gross and unattractive but she doesn’t realize Soobin is so down bad for pregnant her. Like he goes out of his way to show her just how turned on he is but nothing works, until one day he presses himself against her and it finally clicks for her and she gets the nastiest wetted sex of her life like he’s trying to get her pregnant again like ugh
⧼ 🍼 ⧽ ── GROWING PAINS 。
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soobin needs you to know just how much he loves your new body。
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╭♡ pairing 。〃choi soobin x fem!reader ! genre 。〃pure smut , fluff ! warning 。〃minors do not interact! pregnant!reader , husband!soobin , pregnancy kink , lactation kink , breeding kink , dirty talk , praise kink , sub top!soobin , handjob (m.rec) , oral (f. rec) , mentions of unprotected sex
a/n 。〃not proofread ! my first time writing pregnant!reader, so let me know if it sucks! also take a shot every time i use the word “nipple” lol
♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ 1.7k ꒱ ‧ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱
you had found a lot of solace in baking as of recent— it was one of the few things you could still do this far along in your pregnancy, big belly and aching joints always getting in the way of everything else. you just couldn’t stand the thought of laying around all day, wasting all of your maternity leave doing nothing except waiting for your husband to come home from work. you had to make yourself useful somehow.
you hear the front door open just as you slide your pie into the oven, the soft jingling of keys reaching your ears as your husband drops them in the trinket dish you keep in the hallway. before you can turn to greet him strong arms wrap themselves around your protruding belly, soobin’s tall frame hunched over to bury his face in your neck, plant sweet kisses to your skin.
“i’m home, bunny,” he mumbles against your collarbone, his trail of kisses slowly leading down your shoulder. “how are my perfect girls doing?”
“hi honey, you’re home early,” you giggle, turning your head to give him a kiss; he hums against your lips, big hands rubbing your belly through the loose dress you wore. he was always extra touchy after getting home from work, but this was odd even for him. he must have had a bad day, you thought. “‘m all sore ‘n tired; the twins woke me up from my nap and i couldn’t go back to sleep so i decided to make dessert early so it’ll be cooled down by tonight.”
“mm, you’re so good to me. i’m sorry the babies are bothering you, honey,” soobin replied, pressing his body flush against yours. “the boss let me go early; i finished up that project he wanted done before the deadline, he said i needed to go home and help out my wife. go rest and i’ll take care of you, i’ve been thinking about you all day, baby….”
“oh, sweetie… well, i wouldn’t mind a hand in cleaning up the kitchen—“ you start, but stop dead in your tracks— you can feel soobin’s cock against the swell of your ass, thick and heavy through his slacks. he rocks his hips up against you gently, an almost inaudible whimper falling from the bunny lips he buried in your hair.
“binnie,” you whimper, arousal pooling in your belly despite your shock, “you’re hard.”
“‘m sorry, bunny,” he groans into your ear, deep and dripping with desire. it knocks the wind out of your lungs, makes you gasp against his lips when he leans in for another, filthier kiss. “you’re just so sexy, i’ve been needing you so bad… thinking about your beautiful body all day while trying to get my work done..”
you frown at the words ‘beautiful body’, squirming in your husband’s grip. he notices in an instant, your sweet husband always so perceptive to how you were feeling; whining and pouting those plump bunny lips you adored. “i don’t understand why you’re so self conscious… god, you’re so perfect— this is the best you’ve ever looked, you look so beautiful carrying my children, baby. it makes me so fucking crazy, you have no idea…”
“really..?” you turn to look at him, and his eyes lock with yours— the raw hunger you find in his gaze is unlike anything you had ever seen before from your sweet, shy husband.
his hands caressed your tummy and hips, slid up your sides to cup your swollen, sensitive tits, bare underneath your dress. the gentlest squeeze was enough to get you to gasp and moan, your puffy nipples threatening to leak, soobin drinking up your reactions like he wishes to drink your milk. “let me show you how much i love your body, please…”
⸝⸝
“binnie, oh my god, slow down! you’re gonna make me cum again!” you wail, your hands shaking as they tug at the hem of your little dress. you couldn’t see your husband over the swell of your belly, but you could feel his lips and tongue hot and heavy against your pussy, sliding up between your pussy lips to swirl around your clit. you were still recovering from the last orgasm he slurped out of you, your pussy drunk husband refusing to let up his onslaught of pleasure even as you cried, begged, and tugged at his hair— far too soon was that dizzying pleasure building back up in your tummy, your thighs shaking in soobin’s grip as he pushed you further and further to the edge.
“fuck yes, do it, cum for me!” soobin moans with his mouth full, tongue dipping deep into your hole, big hands tightening their grip and tugging you impossibly closer. “cum on my face, baby, please! make a mess—!”
his desperation does you in; you cum again with a sharp cry, your overstimulated little pussy pulsating uncontrollably as soobin eagerly laps up every drop of your release. you soak your thighs, your dress, and the bed underneath you— and, as soobin presses a kiss to your clit and pulls away from your slippery pussy to shoot you a silly, satisfied smile, you can see that you’ve soaked the bottom half of his face as well. it drips from his chin as he crawls up over you, his eyes slowly trailing from your flushed face down to your quivering tits.
and just as he takes in the sight of your heaving chest, his eyes widen and his mouth drops agape. confused, you follow his gaze… and take in the sight of two identical wet patches seeping through your white dress, your puffy nipples visible and budding noticeably through the fabric.
you had leaked milk in the midst of your climax.
“oh god,” you whine shamefully, raising your hands to attempt to hide the mess. “i’m so sorry, don’t look—“
soobin grabs your wrists in a rush before you could cover yourself, big brown eyes still glued to your tits. “fuck, bunny..” he marvels, licking his lips, “did i make you do that? that’s so sexy, holy shit—“
“s-sexy?” you stammer, shocked at his reaction. soobin nods.
“can i touch?” he asks in almost a whisper, eyes finally leaving your chest to blink up at you wantonly “please let me touch you, please..”
a hesitant “okay…” was all that he needed, instantly letting go of your wrists to tug down the top of your dress and take large handfuls of your breasts. more milk leaks out onto his fingers from the rough handling, making him groan deep in his chest as he marvels at the sight of the pearly white droplets cascading down the swell of your tits. your spent, sensitive pussy throbs at the sound, your husband sounding so unbelievably ruined and needy.
“so pretty…” soobin mumbles, wet fingertips beginning to pinch and tweak at your embarrassingly hard nipples. “my wife’s so pretty with my babies in her belly. gonna be such a good mommy… god bunny, i want to keep you pregnant forever, all full of me, claimed by me, so everyone knows you’re mine—!”
his fingers tighten harshly around your nipples, the pressure causing your milk to squirt out obscenely; soobin watches in awe, his eyes hazy and unfocused as he pants like a dog, kneads your sensitive swollen tits rougher and rougher. you fist the bedsheets and writhe under his touch, your high-pitched, broken gasps and moans reverberating off the walls of your shared bedroom— briefly you have half the mind to pray that your neighbors aren’t home.
soobin dips his head to nose along the contours of your breast, his hot breath tickling your skin; those spit-slick bunny lips just barely ghost your bud, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine as his tongue sneaks out to lap the lingering milk off of your skin.
he looks up at you with watery eyes, smirk plastered on his lips at your pathetic whimper. “can i.. can i have a taste?” he asks quietly, deep voice octaves lower than you’ve ever heard it. “let me taste you…please, baby, i can’t take it anymore…”
you nod desperately, throwing your head back against the pillows, and soobin shoots you a deadly smirk before sealing his lips around your nipple.
he lets out a deep moan as his mouth fills with milk, sucking with a voracious hunger; you cry out in pleasure, letting go of the sheets to grab desperately at his dark hair. you tug mindlessly at the strands as his suction deepens, soobin letting out the prettiest choked whimper that goes straight to your quickly wetting pussy.
he sucks until your tit runs dry, pulling off of your irritated bud with an obscene string of saliva— wordlessly he moves on to your other neglected nipple, his fingers coming back up to play with the one he released. the combined sensations are almost too much for you, your shaking legs wrapping tight around soobin’s trim waist; you can feel the curve of his rock hard cock grind against your dripping cunt, drenching the thin fabric of his boxers and aiding in the delicious slide of his hot fat shaft against your slit. your pussy suddenly feels so painfully empty, your hips bucking in desperation as soobin empties your other breast of milk. “you feel what you do to me?” he mumbles against your flesh, hips picking up speed, “feel how hard you make me?”
the hand you had in soobin’s hair trails down his chest to his straining cock, rubbing his twitching shaft through his boxers; soobin cries out around your nipple, his hips stuttering, and you can’t help but giggle as you dip your hand below his waistband.
the tip of his cock throbs an angry red, thick fat shaft slapping wetly against his taut belly. “all this for me?” you purr, gathering the precum dripping from his cockhead to slick up your hand; it only takes a few slow pumps of his cock to get soobin begging, your poor husband wound up and aching for release.
“please, please baby, let me fuck you— i gotta fuck you, i’m so hard it hurts,” he whimpers, releasing your tit with a wet pop, “gotta fill you up, put more babies in you… gonna be such a happy family..”
what kind of wife would you be to say no?
2K notes · View notes
gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 months ago
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when the fratboy falls
fratboy!Jaehyun x tutor!reader
summary: Jaehyun is a fratboy with a notorious reputation for being a playboy, you have never heard of him. surely, he can use tutoring as an excuse to get close to you, right?
word count: 8.9k
warnings: swearing, fuckboy behavior, mentions of alcohol and weed, characters consuming alcohol, based on ages in this fic- underage drinking, mentions of sexual acts, a very brief scenario where a non-nct-fratboy verbally harasses/drunkenly flirts, confusing ages/age changes between members (just don't think about it :)), Americanized college described (I'm American), pet names (sweetie, sweets, sweeteart) in order to avoid using y/n, uhhh I think that's it, lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: oh my god this feels like it's been a long time coming, I hope you all enjoy the origins of Jaehyun and Sweetheart and grow to love them even more! Feedback is appreciated! 
This fic is a part of my fratboy!jaehyun universe but can be read as a stand alone fic! (it’s the origin story)
dividers from plutism <3
taglist! @luv4jeno @vvx3 @mmjhh1998 @bluedbliss @soheendo
@lovesuhng @i4kt @johnjaesblog @sunghoonsgfreal @leemoonna
@cbgisland @yowmaman @cryingforjae @nanaissour @kongjjen
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You should be in a club right now, you and all your friends should be getting drinks bought for you in the flashing neon lights of a crowded room. You should be dancing like the girls in all the college movies with your hands up, tangled in your own hair, and dancing to the beat of the music pulsing through the room. 
But you weren’t there! You were stuck in the godforsaken library being proactive by studying for your staggered midterms starting in two weeks. You hated your professors for giving horribly detailed study guides that actually required you to work on them this early on. It was as if they had all conspired to make them as detailed and long as possible and to make them span two weeks.
Your eyes were burning from staring at the screen in front of you, the books laid out around you had barely been touched since you found the information you needed, and your pencil was lost somewhere in the pages of your notebook where you had been taking notes. Right now, your fingers were itching to grab your phone and scroll through some sort of entertainment, but you knew you couldn’t. 
You’d been doing so well studying for a good- wow, almost 3 hours, until the rowdiest group of guys came in and started making this experience even worse for you. They’d come in about half an hour ago and had been the worst examples of library goers since they took their seats two tables away from you. 
“Those guys are such a pain in the ass,” your roommate, Ari, mumbled under her breath.
Your friend, Kira, shot a look in their direction and immediately rolled her eyes, “Frat guys, Nu Chi. I’m not surprised.”
You peeked over at the group of guys catching the Greek letters on various pieces of clothing worn within the group. The ‘ΝΧΤ’ was was patched onto some hats, hoodies, and t-shirts- the bright green of the letters made it easier to see. You trailed your eyes over the guys in the group. Some look like they’d just woken up, one was asleep, another two were actually studying, and one was looking right at you. 
Your eyes widened in surprise, you hadn’t meant to get caught staring. His handsome face fell into a smirk as you saw his eyes trail you up and down. Your face got hot and you snapped your head back to the half undone study guide on your screen. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How embarrassing!
Jaehyun smirked at your embarrassed state, biting his lip as he stared at your panicked return to your studying. Thank you Taeyong for getting this table. You were cute, messy hair, comfy looking sweater, and tired eyes. He liked cute. 
You tried as hard as you could to focus on the study guide in front of you but the heat of this guy’s gaze was distracting you. You peeked up again, catching his eye and feeling your face get warm once again when his right eye dropped in a wink.
You looked away quickly, facing your friends and covering your mouth from his view, “don’t be obvious, but one of those frat guys has been staring at me for the past 10 minutes.”
Both their heads turned at the same time, catching sight of the guy. Ari’s eyes widened as her head snapped back to you, “that’s Jung Jaehyun, bitch!”
You stared at her like she’d grown another head, “does he play sports or something? Am I supposed to know who he is?”
“He’s just one of the hottest guys at this university. My roommate knows like four girls who have slept with him and not a single one of them complained. Apparently, he’s pretty good in bed. You should get on it,” Kira explains in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Don’t be gross, I don't want to be another notch in his bedpost or name on his roster. I’m not like that,” you sigh as you begin closing up the books spread around you on the table. 
“I know, I’m just saying it could be fun for you. Don’t let him use you, you use him,” Kira offers with a smug smile.
You chuckle, gathering your things, “whatever, I’m going back to the dorm. If I read another word my brain will melt into mush. I’ll see you guys later.”
You stood from the table, your arms full of the books you’d borrowed so you could take them back to the front desk. You heard a chair scrape against the floor as you left your area and passed by tables of scattered peers also studying or at least attempting to study.
“Here, let me help you with those,” a deep voice came from behind you.
You stopped, turning your head to see that it was Jaehyun, the guy from the table. “Oh, it’s alright. Thank you though,” you smiled politely while continuing your journey to the librarian’s desk.
“Hey, child development books. Now that I think about it your pretty face did look familiar. Do you you take it with Professor G on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 2? I’m Jung Jaehyun,” He explained as he walked with you. Clearly, he wasn't at all put off by you dismissing him.
“That class has like 200 people, how would you recognize me?” You asked Jaehyun, sending the librarian a kind smile in thanks before telling him your own name as you walked toward the doors of the library.
Jaehyun walked with you, holding the door open for you, “I never forget a pretty face. But hey, listen, I gotta say I’ve been struggling quite a bit with all the materials we need to know for the midterm. You always answer questions and Professor G compliments your work, would you be down to help me study? Like a tutor?”
You came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs outside the library. You bit the inside of your lip, contemplating whether or not you should help him. On one hand, you really understood the material and you would be more than capable enough to help him, and you had some time. On the other hand, did he really need help studying or was this one of his methods for getting you alone so he could work his charm to get you in his bed? “You don’t even know me, I’m sure there’s someone you know in the class that can help you.”
Jaehyun’s mouth opens quickly, “But I know you know the materials. Come on, please.”
You shook your head, he was cute, you had the time to help him, but your pride was getting in your way. 
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Any other girl would have jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him, time alone with him. You were different, making him work for it. And he knew you wanted him. He saw the way you’d been checking him out. He looked at the trees, his eyes brightening as an idea hit him, “how about this. If you help tutor me, I’ll let you and your friends in to every Nu Chi party for free for the rest of the semester.”
You hummed, that was a pretty good offer, “but I’ve never even been to any of your parties. We’re not usually the party type.”
Geez you were making this almost impossible for him, “fine. You and your friends can still get into the rest of the parties for free and I’ll connect you with some of my older frat brothers who can help you with any other class you need help with.”
You hummed, that was a pretty good offer, “Do you have a math guy? I really need help in stats.”
Jaehyun, let out a quiet breath of relief, “Yeah, Doyoung is a computer science major or something. Even if he’s not, he’s a genius and there’s about 4 other guys who could help you. We’re not all idiots, you know?”
“Just you?” You smile at him teasingly. 
He chuckles deeply, “yeah, just me. So yes? You’ll help me.”
“Fine,” you drag out playfully, “I can find you on instagram to set up the meeting?”
He nods handing his phone to you so you can follow yourself. You hand his phone back to him, “I guess I’ll talk to you soon.”
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The next time you see Jaehyun is at 9:48 on the following Saturday. You’ve been sitting in a study room nervously adjusting and readjusting the position of your laptop, then your notebook, then your pencil. Your coffee sits untouched beside your phone, face up to see if, and really when, Jaehyun will decide to message you and cancel. The session was supposed to start at 9:30, but there had been very few people walking through the door. None of which were Jaehyun.
You’d decided you would give him 10 more minutes and then you’d leave. You had better ways to be spending a Saturday than waiting in a study room alone like a mega loser for some guy you barely knew. A guy that was just trying to get in your pants no doubt.
With 2 minutes left you began to pack up your things. You knew it was too good to be true. Why had you even begun to think he was actually interested in studying? With the way he’d been undressing you with his eyes, there was no way he wanted to actually study with you. You were such an idiot! He was probably fast asleep, hung over, in his bed with a poor girl he’d managed to trick into sleeping with him. If you could even calling it tricking her- he was actually a good looking guy, charming, likable, and persuasive. Ugh! Why were you thinking about him like that?! 
You closed your laptop and slid your chair out, reaching for your bag when finally the door to the study room opened.
There stood Jung Jaehyun, red cheeked, tired looking, and out of breath, “I slept through my alarm. I’m hungover as a motherfucker right now, but I’m here. Did you just get here?”
You were frozen, “I’ve been waiting for almost 20 minutes. I was packing up to leave.”
“How are you not hungover? Last night was a major rager.”
“I didn’t go to the party,” You told him quietly, almost shyly. You pulled your laptop out again and pulled up the necessary tabs for the material for today.
Jaehyun stared at you confused, a slight hint of wonder, and another hint of admiration. “But I gave you free entry for the rest of the semester. You and your friends. I can think of something else to make this more worth your while.”
You deadpanned, “I’m not sleeping with you Jung Jaehyun, have some respect. I’m doing you a favor.”
Jaehyun flushed, his mouth falling open silently. He shook his head quickly, almost in worry, “that’s not what I meant. God, I’m sorry. I just meant that since you are doing me a favor and you haven’t exactly used any of what I offered to your advantage, maybe you’d want something else more your style. You can still have access to my smart bros, but maybe you want some food instead of the parties? A couple of the ladies in the dining hall love me and they give me food for free. I can pass that along if you want.”
You bit your lip, contemplating your answer, “It’s fine, the parties seem cool. I mean- I’ve never been to one, but I didn’t want to leave the wrong impression showing up hungover.”
Jaehyun flushed, suddenly very interested in the screen in front of him, he was embarrassed. Of course he made a bad second impression. He was the idiot that showed up hungover! “Should we get started?” he asked. It was clear you cared about school or at least doing well and wanted to make a good impression even when he was obviously thinking with his dick. Now, he felt like a total dick.
You nodded and began explaining what you had planned for this session. You had planned for the two of you would complete part 1 of the study guide, only a handful of questions and you’d review the slides used by the professor to help Jaehyun with anything he had trouble with. 
Jaehyun began to zone out after the third level of the hierarchy of needs. His eyes were zeroed in on the plastic cup on the opposite side of the table. The writing was mess but he could make out the order, a chai latte, oatmilk, a double shot of espresso, and 3 pumps of caramel syrup over ice. He’d never had a chai latte but it sounded really good. He wondered if the ice had melted own and ruined the coffee from making you wait so long. He did feel bad about that. He really didn’t mean to oversleep. He was proactive, he’d set an alarm for 9 o’clock, just enough time to shower, throw up, and walk to campus to meet you in the library. But at some point in the party last night someone had offered him a shot and as Social Chair, he couldn’t refuse. Well, he could, but he wasn’t known to unless it was his weekend to be sober and it wasn’t. Nu Chi Tau had a reputation to uphold, a reputation he upheld with pride. 
“So in the final level of the pyramid we have self-actualization, what this means is…” he heard you say, then he got distracted again. This time by you. The way your mouth moved to form the words, your lips looked soft, he wondered what kind of lip balm you used, what flavor it was, did they taste like that chai latte- WHAT?! Who was this voice invading his head?! What was this about unity and understanding you were saying?
He tuned into what you were saying, again, hoping his brain would allow him to stay focused, “since this is the highest level, not a whole lot of people ever get here. On the study guide make sure you add a note about only 2% of people ever reaching this level. I wouldn’t put it past Professor G to ask a question like that on the midterm.”
Jaehyun’s pencil scratched against a loose sheet of paper you’d let him have. “This is probably a really bad time to tell you I also forgot my laptop. Do you mind if I use yours, next time I’ll bring it. I promise.”
You sighed deeply, sending him a light-hearted glare, “Here. Let me know if you need help answering any of the questions. Let’s try to have part 1 done before we meet next time, some time during the week, if that works for you?”
“Yeah, maybe we can do Thursday before class and then we’ll see each other on Friday at the party?” Jaehyun asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could.
You bit your lip, mulling over his offer. His stare was intense, he was mentally crossing his fingers that you’d say yes. And god, why did you look so cute biting your lip?!
“Hey, I’ll be your personal host for the night. You obviously won’t have to drink if you don’t want to, I know all the areas that have more free space if you get overwhelmed, and I will see to it that you get back to your room safely. I promise you’ll have a safe and good night. That’s a Nu Chi Social Chair guarantee,” he pledged, complete with a hand over his heart.
You rolled your eyes, he was such a dork. “Fine, but don’t show up late to the next study session or else I'm dropping you. You can fail for all I care.”
Jaehyun feels his heart skip a beat, not only would he fail the class without your help, he’d also fail you and for some reason that sounded worse. He was definitely going to show up on time.
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True to his word he’d even gone as far as showing up early on Thursday. He had completed part 1 of the study guide, and even flagged some areas he needed help with. You had been thoroughly impressed, even a little surprised. So to keep your part of the bargain you were standing outside the Nu Chi frat house with Ari and Kira. The party was already in full swing. The music was so loud that you felt the bass beneath your feet on the road across the street. 
“Finally! I’ve been waiting for this since our first semester to come to one of these parties!” Ari clapped excitedly.
You turned to stare at her with a look of pure confusion, “you did. Literally the first weekend here at school. You came to the dorm that night and told me you had no interest in men after a man gave you the ‘amateur DJ special,’ but you kissed a girl after and claimed to have fallen in love.”
“So I came out to you twice? Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked in shock.
Kira groaned, “both of you shut up. Let’s go.” She grabbed your arm and led you and Ari into the chaos.
Upon entering, a wave of musky funk hit your nostrils. A nasty concoction of weed, alcohol, sweat, beer, and BO. There were people cheering in the center of the hallway playing beer pong, a crowd of people grinding in the living room to r&b music, the sliding door to the back yard was open and showed people doing keg stands before flipping into the pool. This was just above and beyond. Every other frat party in town had crowded living rooms with beer being sloshed around in plastic cups, but this was a full on experience. It was as if they had seen every college movie with parties and brought them to life. You might never admit it, but you were even a little impressed.
You all moved through the bodies to the kitchen to get yourself some drinks and you looked around to observe those around you. The kitchen was strangely more empty than you thought it would be, but the party had been going on for almost 2 hours so maybe people were already too drunk to care about getting more alcohol. There was a couple making out in one corner, a group of girls sipping on seltzers all gathered around a phone, and a few drunk people snacking on some chips.
You sipped on your drink, not even noticing that someone new had taken stance beside you, “hey, I’ve never seen you around here before. You a freshman?”
Your face turned into one of poorly-concealed judgement while you studied him. He looked like a freshman himself, probably fresh out of the womb. He had cute chubby cheeks, wide eyes, and a shaggy hairstyle that made him look younger than he likely was. You laughed as you thought about his tacky line and turned to him with raised brows, “I’m in the middle of my fourth semester here. Are you a freshman? You look like you just left 8th grade, little guy.”
He scoffed, huffed, and rolled his eyes, “I’m in my second semester, I’m not some first semester loser. I’m not some kid. I’m actually almost 19. In 3 weeks.”
“Congrats,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink, “what’s your name?”
He flips his hair back with some weird swagger taking over him, “I’m Haechan, I hold the Nu Chi record for longest bender. Six whole days.”
Your eyes widen in shock and you almost choke on your drink, “that can’t have been healthy.”
Another guy stands beside Haechan with a can of beer in his hand, “it wasn’t. He also spent ‘six whole days’ in the hospital right after. You can’t keep bragging about it without providing more context. Normal people get concerned, not impressed, bro.”
“God! Mark! You kill the vibe every time I try to make my move!” Haechan yells before turning to you and speaking softly, “you should come to my birthday party.” 
The two continue bickering and you make your way back to your friends to refill your cup. An unfamiliar arm slings around your and Ari’s shoulders. You had expected it to be Haechan, a harmless kid, or Jaehyun who you knew and had promised to be your guide, but instead it was another guy completely. He smelled awful, a sick mix of weed, sweat, and Axe body spray. 
His words were slurred and he was clearly using you and Ari to stay upright, “Ladies, what brings you beauties to this shitty party? You know, Alpha Sig throws better parties, we got one goin’ on tomorrow night. You ladies should come by. You’ll get front of the line access, especially you.” He tugs Ari closer to him.
Ari cringes and tries to pull away from his hold, “you have no idea how much that turned me off. Go away, you smell like a preteen boy.”
“I can be your boy,” he slurs, his hot breath hitting her face. She wretches and dry heaves with the scent of his breath.
“Tyler, what the fuck are you doing here? You know you’re fucking banned. Get your ass out of here, and take any of your brothers that snuck in with you,” you hear Jaehyun’s voice. It’s surprisingly loud and stern. He speaks with confidence and command and you hate that it makes you question how you see him. He was just hot before but now he’s even more attractive, protective, and strong. Shit, what was in this drink?
You feel a sense of relief at the sound of the familiar voice. Tyler turns and begins arguing, his words barely comprehensible before a taller guy in a Nu Chi Theta shirt drags him out of the house. 
Once he’s out of sight Jaehyun turns to your small group with a much more relaxed voice, “I’ve been looking for you girls all night. Come out back, it’s way more chill. I had a pledge in charge of keeping an eye out for you, sorry he sucks.”
You all follow him out of the crowded house to the backyard and past the keg stands and to a small circle of benches where it is way calmer. These must be the older members of the frat hang out. Jaehyun smiles and introduces his brothers and they all apologize for Tyler’s behavior. 
Taeyong the frat president and Jaehyun’s Big, Johnny the Vice President, Doyoung the secretary, and Yuta the treasurer, which he was quickly explained he was forced to take up the role.
“I swear, the pledges get more and more useless every semester. The last good set was Mark and Haechan,” the one who had been introduced as Taeyong sighed.
Jaehyun goes to argue after rolling his eyes, but your snort interrupts him. Jaehyun turns to you as if to ask what was up. You shake your head, “Haechan tried to hit on me in the kitchen. Then Mark came in and they started arguing,” you explain.
Jaehyun laughs with a nod, taking a sip from his drink, “sounds like them.”
You all make conversation for a couple hours, laughing and getting to know each other. They share crazy party stories, embarrass each other with the occasional scolding to party-goers who are getting too rowdy out back or inside. They complain about their classes and upcoming finals, and in turn you and your friends complain about your own. You’re even able to make some connections for help with stats like you needed or the opportunity to look at some other member’s notes from similar classes. 
Yuta turns to you with a look of realization on his face, “hey, were you in the library about a week ago?” You nod and he continues with a smug smile, “you know, you’re like a living legend around here. You really knocked Jaehyun down a peg, first girl to ever not fall for his charm. Now, he’s actually studying. It’s amazing!”
You don’t see it because Ari suddenly falls from the bench, but Jaehyun punches Yuta’s shoulder with bright red cheeks. You and Kira help Ari up and begin saying your goodbyes, promising Yuta that you want to continue the conversation.
Jaehyun follows you guys out. He opens up the side gate and takes the brunt of Ari’s weight while you all walk back to your dorm building, which thankfully isn’t far. 
Ari nearly stumbles into a bush outside your building and plays it off with a, “I was getting you your favorite flowers, sweetie!” She pushes a crumpled pink azalea flower into you palm and you thank her while getting her upright and steady.
You and Jaehyun walk her into the lobby and from there Kira leads Ari into the elevator and she sends you a tipsy wink which is impossible to ignore. 
You flush with embarrassment, shes’s so obvious. “Thanks for walking us home, but you didn’t have to do that. You have a party to return to, Mister Social Chair. There’s probably some girl you had your eye on tonight, you could have missed your chance.”
“It was my sober weekend anyway and I promised to be your guide. No one else but you held my attention tonight,” he shrugs, “I just hope Tyler didn’t discourage you from coming to any future parties. Or even Yuta.”
“I got a personal invite to Haechan’s nasty 19. Plus, I think the brothers of Nu Chi would love to have a living legend in attendance, I’ll be there,” you smile while tucking the crumpled up flower behind your ear to distract yourself from his offhand admission of you holding his attention
Jaehyun feels his heart beat a little faster. It had to be the single beer he had earlier, or were crumpled up flowers always this pretty on girls who teased him? Was it the flower or could it be your teasing? He blinked a few times, forcing his brain to work for one of its intended purposes- speaking. “That one will be smaller. I’m not sure about calmer, but smaller for sure. Before that though, we have a couple more study sessions right?” He asks, changing the subject.
“Yeah, we need to finish off parts 2 and 3 of the study guide. The midterm is two Thursdays away, so let’s try to meet this Tuesday after class.”
“Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll have notes and everything.” He salutes you like a dork. 
You snort out a laugh, which he automatically files stores as a sound he likes hearing and wants to hear again. “I’ll see you in class.” 
He leaves with a wave and his hands shoved in his pockets. He walked back with a nice pep in his step. The stars looked brighter, he felt a giddiness he hadn’t felt in years. It was weird, but he liked it. He wanted to feel it more often. When he got to the party, he went right back to his room, alone, ready to bask in his new, light feeling. He liked this feeling, he wanted to feel it all the time.
You enter your room to find Ari passed out on the floor under a blanket from your bed and Kira happily cuddled up in her bed. You send Kira a raised brow, “your room isn’t even that far away.”
“Hey, I worked hard to get her here. I deserve this,” she huffs, setting her phone aside before she sends you a mischievous grin, “you and Jaehyun, huh?”
“Kira, I’m tutoring him. That’s all,” you sass back while changing into your pajamas.
She huffs out a humorless laugh, “sure, because Jung Jaehyun walks girls back to their dorms all the time.”
“He’s a frat boy but he’s not an asshole. We don’t even know he’s never done that before. You’re starting shit, Drunk Kira.”
“All I’m saying is, everyone else has gotten an Uber home or a pledge to walk them home. He didn’t even sleep with you and you got a personal escort while a party was still going on.”
You pull the sheets over your head, hating how you’re already over thinking an action that should be the bare minimum. She laughs drunkenly and you’re glad she can’t see the blush she’s put on your cheeks.
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On Tuesday, you get to class before Jaehyun, like usual. You won’t admit you’re now keeping an eye out for him… but you are. You place your phone on the desk and pull your notebook out of you backpack and open to where your notes left off. 
Someone takes the seat right beside you as your brows furrow, watching a dried azalea flutter out onto the floor from your notebook. 
“Wow, another one. Ari wasn’t kidding when she said there were your favorites,” you head Jaehyun’s voice as he places the flower back on your desk.
Your face still shows confusion, reading the pink glittery note from Ari in your notebook. ‘Sorry for making you drag my drunk ass back home :( forgive me sweetie’. You chuckle, “Ari’s version of an apology. Sorry, hi. Do you always sit in this row?”
“Hell no, I usually slip in about 30 minutes late and find a spot in the back. Today, I’m hoping that your smartness radiates off you and I absorb it. In other words, whenever you copy notes, I’m going to copy notes,” he ultimately simplifies.
“Geez, no wonder you need tutoring for this class. Do you have a paper? Pencil? Laptop? Something to take notes?”
“I’m not dumb,” he states, pulling out a singular sheet of paper and a pen with no cap. God, he probably has nothing but those 2 things and a protein bar with his laptop in his backpack right now. He’s like a kindergartner. All you can do is sigh before Professor G starts going through the slides of the day and lecturing. You can see him from the corner of your eye writing when you writing and fiddling with his pen, twirling it through his fingers. You try to suppress a smile, you’re a little proud of him right now. Just a little bit.
After class finishes you both make your way to the library and you force yourself to ignore the looks being thrown your way. In reality no one is really looking at you, more like looking at the infamous campus celebrity following you to the elevators. 
Getting to the study room is easy enough with nearly every girl’s eyes on your study buddy making you feel anxious and self-conscious. Jaehyun doesn't seem to notice though, and goes about getting out his laptop as normal. For the first few minutes of your session you both input new material into the study guides. Then you get into his confusion on the questions.
You begin to explain some ecological something he had flagged and all Jaehyun can think is, “why does child development have so many shapes?”
Your eyes widen in shock, your mouth opening to respond before you burst into a fit of laughter, using your hands to muffle the sound. Jaehyun smiles at the sound, something about you is growing on him, making him feel things he hasn’t felt since his high school girlfriend. Fuck.
You smile, simplifying this theory for him before you calm down. “Can I ask you something?”
He nods, “of course.” He finishes up typing his notes, writing them in the way you explained because you made it so much easier for him to understand. 
“Why are you taking a child development class? This doesn’t really seem like your thing.”
“It fulfills one of my general requirements. My first and second choice were filled up, and Taeyong is an education major. He convinced me to take it, so here I am.”
“So you do have someone else to help you study…” you trail off, “why ask me? Taeyong is probably more knowledgeable about this than I am.”
He clears his throat, looking away from you, “he’s really busy. Making lesson plans and making us act like students.” He doesn’t want to tell you that it was because you were cuter and prettier. That when he first met you he wanted to sleep with you, but now you make him feel feelings he’d buried deep, deep down. Plus, Taeyong was actually very strict when he tutored Jaehyun. He didn’t let Jaehyun get distracted, snapped in his face, corrected all his work too closely. He scared Jaehyun when he was in teacher mode.
“Okay, one more question. So you told us on Friday that you had a pledge keep an eye out for me, Ari, and Kira. How would a pledge know what I looked like?”
Jaehyun blushes, his cheeks feel hot, he starts mumbling, “gave him a general description of you or whatever.”
You lean in, poking his cheek, it’s soft, “you’re lying. Did you make him stalk me or something? Did he stand outside one of my classes? This has been haunting me.”
He laughs at your exaggeration, “haunting you? No, he didn’t stalk you or follow you. I uh, I sent him a screenshot of one of your Instagram posts.”
You tried and failed to suppress a smile, your own face getting hot now, “so you have a picture of me saved on your phone? Which picture did you pick? I have some pictures of me at the beach-”
Jaehyun perks up, “really? I haven’t seen those yet. Are they recent?” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens Instagram. 
You snatch his phone from his hand, “don’t make it weird, pervert. I was just starting to like you. Seriously though, which picture was it?”
He shakes his head with a smile, “it was a picture of you with Ari and Kira, so he knew what all of you looked like. Is that a good enough answer? Give me my phone back.” He’s choosing to save you the embarrassment by ignoring the fact that you had just admitted you liked him.
You slide the phone back with your eyes narrowed, assessing him. “Fine. Let’s finish part two, we only have a few questions left.”
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When you see him next, it’s one week before the midterm. You’re sitting in your usual seat in the auditorium with your notebook out waiting for Professor G to come in. Ari is texting you about some cute guy she saw. Kira is sending you memes about dogs. Your phone has all your attention.
Jaehyun comes in, five minutes early, making his way down the aisle to the empty seat beside you. He smiles awkwardly and apologetically as people move their backpacks out of the way and send him enamored smiles.
He plops into the seat beside you unceremoniously and loudly. You send him a look that shows him you are far beyond unimpressed by his lack of decorum. Then he sets something on your desk. 
“What is this for?” You ask with your brows raised. 
He shrugs, keeping himself busy by pulling out whatever he needs to take notes. “It’s a flower, sweetheart. Isn’t it obvious?”
“I know what it is, asshole. Why is it on my desk?” You ask bluntly. From anyone else ‘sweetheart’ would be condescending, but you like hearing his voice say it. Ew.
“I was walking to class and it flew in front of my face. I stomped all over it, danced on it, spit on it, and then I thought it would be nice to give to you.” He answers with a casual shrug of his shoulders, his eyes locked on the huge projector screen while everyone waits for the professor to set up the slides.
You push his shoulder playfully, preparing to reply but class starts. He lied again. The flowers don’t fly off anything because the bushes they grow on are too low to the ground. He didn’t stomp on it because it was perfectly in tact. It was round and the color was vibrant with no wilted petals. He had picked it just for you. 
You study him in your peripheral, a soft look on your face which you’re glad he can’t see since he’s busy taking notes. You force yourself to pay attention, tucking the flower behind your ear before catching up on the slides you’d missed.
Jaehyun catches a blur of pink, out of the corner of his eye he can see you tucking the flower behind your ear. He feels himself blush, and suddenly isn’t so mad that he took the long way to class just to find you that flower. They might be his favorite flower now too.
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It’s the Tuesday before your child development midterm and Jaehyun is waiting for you in the study room he’s booked. Class was cancelled today, it was the least Professor G could do after giving you all so much material to cover. It was 10:16 and Jaehyun was feeling weird. You were always early or at the very least on time, and you weren’t here yet. He scrolled through your DMs to be sure you had both agreed to meet at ten, and there it was, ‘See you at 10 :)’ 
He was busy typing out a message to you when you came into the room. You were panting, hair a mess, and an oversized, comfy looking sweater, and tired eyes. You looked just like you did the first time Jaehyun saw you and felt his breath hitch in his throat. 
“I’m so sorry I’m late. My 9 o’clock class ran over, because there was a surprise essay addition to the midterm. I didn’t think I was going to take all the time the professor gave us because I studied all night for this midterm and I knew what I was doing, but the essay threw me for a loop. I’m an anxious test take as is so the essay ruined all the calmness I had built up and-” your ramble is cut short. 
Jaehyun places his hands on your shoulders. He squeezes them lightly, “Breathe, sweetheart.” He makes a show of breathing in and out until you nod, showing him you’re fine. 
“Sorry, I feel bad for running late. Are you good? Have you been waiting long?” You ask in a much more relaxed voice.
Jaehyun waves you off with a nonchalant wave of his hand, “I’m good. I only have a few questions for part three so this won’t take up much of your time and you can get back to your place and relax. But now I’m wondering if I should give you this…” He holds up a familiar plastic cup, the contents looking like the perfect shade of brown you hadn’t consumed this morning. Your mouth waters and you reach for the cup, but Jaehyun pulls it out of your reach. “Promise me, the caffeine isn’t going to make you more anxious. I don’t want to be held responsible if you have a panic attack later.”
“Please, Jaehyun,” you whine, “I need coffee.”
He smirks, handing you the cup and watching as you take a drink from the straw eagerly. Your brows furrow in confusion. You expected some vanilla latte, or a caramel coffee of some kind. Instead, you taste your usual order. You taste your iced chai latte with oatmilk, double shot of espresso, and 3 pumps of caramel syrup.
“Did Ari tell you my order?” You ask with pure curiosity.
“I remember your order from our first study session. It’s actually really good.” He tells you casually, taking a long drink from his own straw.
“You remember my order from our first study session almost two weeks ago?” You can feel your heartbeat getting faster, and it’s not the caffeine. 
“I was tired and hungover, and you were talking about the pyramid thing and my brain couldn’t focus. So I focused on your cup instead. Are we studying or what?”
“Alright, yeah. Thank you, for waiting and for the coffee,” you reply.
He smiles at you, a soft smile that some part of your brain interprets as an affectionate smile for some reason, “no problem.”
You both get through the study guide, flipping through notes and making it easier to understand. 
Before you know it, the study session is over and the midterm comes even faster. 
Jaehyun sends you a wink, holding his knuckles out for a fist bump. His voice is a quiet whisper as the rest of the class gets the test and gets started, “you got this, sweetheart.”
You feel your heart soar, you want to get up and do a happy dance. There’s just too much giddiness in our body right now. Instead you settle for, “you too.”
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This was supposed to be a smaller party? The music is louder, you can hear people shouting, cheering, and the sound of people jumping in the pool. Now the card you brought feels dumb. You barely know Haechan anyway. Why did you come?
“I can hear your thoughts, sweets. We’re already here, we’re going to have a good time. Let’s go,” Ari tells you. She knows you too well. 
You don’t argue and let her and Kira guide you into the house. It is smaller, it’s less crowded than the first Nu Chi party you came to, but still full. There’s more room to move around the party, it smells less like BO and thankfully, no sign of anyone from Alpha Sig. 
Ari leads you all back to the kitchen, a familiar routine of starting your night with some alcohol. Jungle juice probably. Some kind of mix of alcohol and juices that will give you an awful hangover if you drink enough of it. 
“You came!” A voice screeches before someone embraces you. “I knew, Mark hadn’t ruined my chances. God he’s an idiot, but you came, for me.”
“Get off her, you little weirdo,” you hear Jaehyun before Haechan is pulled off you. Jaehyun holds him by the back of his shirt and Haechan tries to fight it. 
You laugh, reaching in to hug Haechan, he’s a cutie. “You invited us, I also,” you grab the card you’d set on the counter and hand it to him, “got you this.”
“For me?!” His eyes light up.
“It’s just a gift card. I wasn’t sure what you liked but I don’t like to show up on people’s birthdays empty handed. So uh, happy birthday,” you smile awkwardly, leaning in to give him another quick hug.
Jaehyun grunts, pulling Haechan back when he snakes his arms around you for too long. Haechan begins to whine and argue but quiets down when Jaehyun sends him a look of warning. Jaehyun loops an arm around your shoulders, “Ari and Kira are already out back, come on.” 
You let Jaehyun guide you out of the house again, let his arm fall from your shoulders to your waist. You like him being so close, wrapped around you like this. You like him being protective, a little possessive, and shit- you think you might like him. 
The same guys greet you in the same spot as last time. This time, Yuta and Johnny are drunker than the last party. “It’s Sweets!” Johnny cheers and you shoot your friends a blank look. That was a nickname from them, so he’d obviously gotten it from them. A nickname you felt neutral about in your small group since it was kind of cute. You were unsure of its origins but you were almost certain it came from a late night snack run you all made during your first hang out. Everyone got their own snacks that night, but you were the only one to leave with an armload of sweet snacks. 
“It’s nice to see you again. With Jaehyun,” Yuta smiles mischievously. 
Jaehyun’s arm drops from your waist and you miss the warmth it provided, the feeling of security, safety. You take a drink of the cup in your hand, hoping that the alcohol will help distract from the weird empty feeling you suddenly have. You sit beside Kira and join the conversation, letting the stress of midterms leave you while you vent and listen to everyone else rant about the tests, projects, and professors. 
You eventually come to the bottom of your cup and get up, offering to get anyone else a drink too. Taeyong joins you on your way back to the kitchen. You reach for the ladle in the giant bowl of jungle juice, already feeling a slight buzz from your first cup. Taeyong stops and chats with some people on the far side of the kitchen. A group of girls come into the kitchen and begin talking while grabbing beers. 
“I don’t know, it’s kind of weird to be here and not be hit on by him you know? It’s been pretty consistent at every party. Tonight I was going to finally give in,” one girl sighs.
“Girl, I think that ship has sailed. He’s been seen with the same girl for a few weeks now. I tried to hit on him at the last party and he shut me down completely,” her friends responds.
“You’re lying, bitch. Jung Jaehyun tied down? There’s no way!” A third girl exclaims after choking on her drink.
Suddenly you want to choke too. Your throat tightens up and fuck- you’d been so stupid to think that you could be anything special to him. Why would a guy like Jung Jaehyun go after you when he could have anyone else? It’s not like you had ever shown him you were going to give into his flirting, of course he would be done with you now. He asked you to tutor him, you had tutored him and he got what he wanted. It makes sense that he got what he wanted, not the sex, and had someone else that matched him better than you. Why would he have wanted anything deeper than tutoring and maybe friendship with you?
Your hands start to shake and tears fill your eyes making everything hard to see. You leave your cup on the counter and turn to walk out of the kitchen, out of the house, away from him. You want to go home and forget you ever fell for Jaehyun and forget that you were ever stupid enough to think he could actually like you back. Fuck!
You make your way through the living room and out the front door, feeling only a sliver of relief when the fresh air hits your face again. You feel someone grab your wrist and go to pull away, but it’s Taeyong. He looks concerned as he studies your tear filled eyes. “You’re not going home alone like this, just- wait here, I’m gonna go tell the guys that I’m taking you home,” he instructs. You nod, glad he didn’t ask any questions because your throat feels tight. If he were to ask you anything else you knew you would burst out into tears.
There’s no one out front as you wipe your tears. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you exhale. You were fine. It was all going to be fine. You were fine before you even knew who he was, and you were going to continue being fine now, after him. 
You can hear the side gate of the house open and shut, it must be Taeyong. You walk down the front steps and make it halfway to the gate before stopping, it’s not Taeyong. It’s Jaehyun and he looks worried. 
“What’s wrong? What happened?” He asks, looking the slightest bit distressed.
You roll your eyes and turn on your heels, not even gracing him with a response. You can make it home alone. Ari and Kira have your location, you’ll text them when you get home. It’s not even that far. It’s fine. 
“Hey, sweetheart. Just- talk to me. What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asks, his hand wrapping around your forearm and turning you to face him.
You wanted to make this a clean break. You just wanted to leave and forget you ever met him. Leave and forget you ever fell for him, but since he’s asking. “Why didn’t you tell me? Huh?”
Jaehyun’s brows pinch together trying to figure out what you’re talking about, had one of the guys told you that he liked you. Those fuckers, fine, he could confess now, “Look, I’m sorry they told you. I was trying to gather the courage and make sure my feelings were genuine before I told you. They are, of course, but I don’t know- it’s been a while since I’ve felt this way for anyone and I was nervous.”
You can feel the tears coming back, “And she knows how you treat other girls? She knows that you walk them home, get the flowers, memorize their coffee orders, and introduce them to your friends. You could have at least been honest with me! I told you from the beginning! I told you from the very beginning I wasn’t going to sleep with you. All I asked for was your respect, but I won’t be the girl you cheat on your girlfriend with. I deserve more than that. I don’t even know the poor girl, but she deserves more too.” You hadn’t even realized you’d gotten so close to him. Your finger was touching his chest and you breathed heavily, a few tears escaping your eyes.
His hand came up to hold yours, pulling your hand away from his chest while keeping your hand in his own, “At the risk of sounding like a dick, who is she?”
You pull your hand out of his hold, before throwing them up in frustration, “your girlfriend! Jaehyun, you have a girlfriend you didn’t tell me about! I developed real feelings for you and you have a girlfriend!”
“You like me back?”
“You’re not listening! That doesn’t matter! You’re a major fucking asshole and your girlfriend deserves better than you. Fuck you!”
He steps forward, cupping your cheeks which makes you freeze. It was the last thing you expected him to do. You try to move way, wriggle out of his hold, but he keeps his hold, “I don’t have a girlfriend. I like you. sweetheart, I like you.”
Your breathing falters, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit, “but there were girls in the kitchen. They said you were tied down and seen with the same girl all over campus and you turned one of them down when she hit on you.”
“Well, it wouldn’t very well make me look good to the girl I liked if I was sleeping around with random girls, would it? sweetheart, you were the one I was seen with. Didn’t we study together a few times? I sat by you in class, I walked you home, I was with you at parties. Any of this ringing a bell or should we get you to the emergency room?” He asks with a playful smile.
“You like me?” 
He laughs, it’s loud, unabashed, and happy, “yes, I like you! I have a crush on you. You make me feel things I haven’t felt since I was in high school with my first, and only, girlfriend. I like hearing your snort, I like seeing your smile, your laugh. I like how kind you are. I like when you wear your comfy sweaters. I really like when you put flowers behind your ears. I like that you make me feel giddy and warm and liked and flirty and playful and I can be myself around you. I want to be smarter for you. I want to be around you more. I think you’re beautiful and funny and kind and perfect. I just- I like you, a lot.”
“I like you too, if that wasn’t obvious. You’re cute and funny-“
“We get it! Kiss!” You hear Ari and Kira yell. You look over Jaehyun’s shoulder and catch them watching you along with the frat officers from the side of the house.
Jaehyun sends you a look as if to ask, if it was ok. You nod minutely and tilt your head up. Your eyes fall shut when his lips meet yours. His lips are soft as he kisses you tenderly. You can feel all the pent up affection you’ve both felt for each other through the kiss. His hands cup your cheeks and yours rest on the back of his neck, holding him close. You lose yourself in the feeling of his lips against your own, fighting back the urge to smile. 
He pulls away and your eyes flutter open, staring into his eyes that match your adoration and excitement in the moment. He presses his forehead against your own, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “so, want to make the rumors true?”
Your face furrows into one of confusion, the rumors? He laughs, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips which makes you melt. “Wanna tie me down, sweetheart?”
“Kinky,” you wink, which makes him laugh out loud. A deep happy laugh, which makes you embrace him closely, “of course I do. As if my temper tantrum over you having an imaginary girlfriend didn’t make it obvious.”
“Good,” he smiles. And it is good, great even.
“Simp!” Johnny and Yuta yell, before one of them drunkenly belches.
Jaehyun laughs, hooking his arm over your shoulder to lead you back to the party. So what if he was a simp? Who wouldn’t be for you?
1K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 4 months ago
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🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺
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Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge
Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.
Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).
A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!
Masterlist || Bingo Board
“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders. 
“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”
The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in. 
Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions. 
The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who. 
In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public. 
“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-” 
“Go fuck yourself.” 
“Okay, have a great evening.”
For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.
He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work. 
“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it. 
“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.” 
You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work. 
“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour. 
If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you  he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops. 
“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.” 
You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going. 
Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.
“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?” 
“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel. 
Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day. 
It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later. 
It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them. 
“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers. 
He absolutely did not know you were a stripper. 
“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”
He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body. 
The “scrubs” were baby blue  but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film. 
He, too, wanted to cling to you. 
“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?” 
“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.” 
He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions. 
“Right, right…” 
You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful. 
“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question. 
“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?” 
You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.  
“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded. 
“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for. 
“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?” 
“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.” 
“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”
“Oh, I can believe it.” 
You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.  
“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you. 
“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it. 
“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned. 
“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.” 
“Right,” he said, smiling again. 
If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray. 
Just in case. 
“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work. 
You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed. 
Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him. 
“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”
“Stripper? What stripper?” 
“You gotta be kidding me.” 
Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction. 
“That stripper, Spencer.” 
He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit. 
“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face. 
“Uh-huh, and what's her name?” 
“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face. 
“Oh my god, she's a stripper.” 
Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out. 
You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights. 
Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day. 
What you weren't expecting was Spencer.
You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target. 
“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her. 
“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”
“Wanna take a ride?” 
“Aren't you just the cutest.”
Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly. 
As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything. 
Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation. 
“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music. 
You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down. 
“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore. 
Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt. 
The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes. 
“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”
He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him. 
He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again. 
“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.” 
His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’ 
Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand. 
Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little. 
“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself. 
You didn't want to stick to any script. 
“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number. 
You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door. 
“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him. 
“What are you doing?” 
“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”
“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.” 
You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips. 
His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff. 
He was rock fucking hard. 
You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone. 
“So how is canvassing going?” 
“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.” 
“It is the morning, officer.” 
He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again. 
You decided to treat him. 
Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth. 
Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you. 
Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests. 
The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants. 
You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right. 
“You said something about an apology earlier, right?” 
I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.
“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up. 
You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing. 
You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos. 
Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap. 
“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”
“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them. 
“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”
You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway. 
You better stop the things that you do.
Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg. 
“So, what's your name, officer.”
“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe. 
“Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again. 
“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled. 
I tell you, I ain't lyin’.
“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear. 
“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”
He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T. 
The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants. 
“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”
He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap. 
“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.” 
You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly. 
He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again. 
Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest. 
You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came. 
“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him. 
“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier. 
“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick. 
He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right. 
Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina. 
You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.
As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed. 
The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock. 
He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own. 
I put a spell on you.
With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress. 
“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again. 
You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second. 
His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”
You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two. 
“You really thought I was a nurse?”
“It was dark.”
You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room. 
“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar. 
Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7. 
1K notes · View notes
impeakcharacterdesign · 1 year ago
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Just the Tip
— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —
MDNI!!!
Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.
But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.
Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.
No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe
Enjoy!!!
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The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.
Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.
These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.
Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.
You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.
You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.
You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.
So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.
“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.
And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.
Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.
You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.
Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.
God, you wished it was you that was touching him.
Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.
The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”
You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”
You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.
You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.
It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.
God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.
The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.
“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —
And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.
“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.
"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat
His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.
But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him
“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”
Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.
You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.
When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.
“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.
This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.
He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.
Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.
Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.
His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.
“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.
This moment in time was just for the two of you.
“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”
Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.
7K notes · View notes
smileysuh · 6 months ago
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nerd
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🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. Look up at me for a moment, gorgeous,” Wonwoo commands, and you do as you’re told. He meets your gaze, his skin flushed from your mouth suctioning on his cock. “Just need to get your eyes right for your character,” he explains, threading his fingers through your hair and aiding you up and down on his throbbing length. “Such pretty eyes. You look so good staring up at me with your mouth stuffed full, baby.”
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, use of dragon knotted dildo toy, use of vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, blow job, dirty talk, slight power play/humiliation, clit sucking, overstimulation, pussy stretching, reader rides the toy then Wonwoo uses the toy to make her cum again, talking reader through it, mutual masturbation, Wonwoo strokes himself off to the reader using her toys, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby. (Wonwoo’s) puppy
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k
🍭 aus. Established relationship au, gamer!Wonwoo, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I know this is on the shorter side, it’s pwp, but I’ve been reading shorter things lately, and I’ve been insanely busy, so I figured a short and sweet fic couldn’t hurt after last month's near 20k meanie fic :)
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You wake up to an empty bed, your hand stretching uselessly toward your boyfriend’s side of the mattress, to no avail. With a slight groan and a huff of sleepy annoyance, you wrap yourself tighter in your white duvet, searching for the energy to sit up.
A clicking sound has your brows furrowing, and you wrap your body tight in the blanket as you open your eyes to look around.
Wonwoo’s sitting at his gaming station in the corner of the room, large earphones snug around his head. For a guy who’s a bit of a night owl, you’re shocked he’s awake and playing video games right now, but as you stare at the screen, you realize what’s going on.
With the new Fallout TV show, Wonwoo’s been wanting to do another playthrough of Fallout 4. He’s been talking about it on Twitch streams for the better part of a week. Leave it to your boyfriend to get the energy to restart a video game at nine am on a Saturday morning.
As much as you love Wonwoo and what he does for work - being a streamer is his dream afterall - you kind of wish he was still in bed with you. He’d been up late gaming last night, and was too tired afterward to take care of your growing needs. You’re at the part of your cycle where you’ve been very horny lately, and you’d been crossing your fingers for morning sex, but by the way Wonwoo is locked in on his screen, you can guess that might not be in the cards.
You watch him a few moments longer, realizing that he’s not actively streaming. It looks like he’s just doing general character creation, but with a boyfriend as meticulous as Wonwoo, you know that could take a while.
Quietly slipping from bed, you wrap yourself in a kimono style robe that Wonwoo had got for you on a recent trip to Japan. You head to the bathroom, intent on completing your morning skin care routine, taking your time and brushing your teeth. 
When you head back to your shared room with Wonwoo fifteen minutes later, your boyfriend looks like he hasn’t even moved a muscle aside from his twitching thumbs on the controller.
Approaching Wonwoo, you lean over the back of his chair, loosely guiding your fingers across his shoulders and down to his bare chest. 
Wonwoo immediately takes his headphones off, turning to press a kiss to your cheek while you linger behind him.
“Good morning,” you breathe.
“Morning, baby,” he says, voice deep and crackly with exhaustion.
“Watcha doing?”
“Just making my Fallout character,” he responds smoothly, turning to look back at the screen. “I’m glad you’re awake actually.”
“Yeah?” you grin. “And why is that?”
“I’m almost done, and when I move onto my wife character, I want to model her after you. As good as my memory is, it’s probably better to have you here with me when I do it.”
God, he’s such a nerd.
You love him, your whole heart warming in your chest at the notion of him creating a wife character based off of you.
“Are you sure you want to put the time into that?” you ask. “We both know what happens to the wife within the first fifteen minutes of the game.”
Wonwoo only shrugs. “I woke up to your pretty face and I guess I was inspired.”
“Hey, puppy?” The pet name immediately draws his attention, and he turns to look at you, a smirk growing on his lips.
“Yes, baby?”
“Can you take a break for a bit?”
Wonwoo’s eyes scan you up and down, and then he sets his controller to the side, reaching for you instead. You allow him to lace his fingers with yours, drawing you in front of him. He positions you between his spread thighs, using his free digits to tug on the belt of your kimono robe. You don’t even need to verbalize what you need, Wonwoo knows you too well, and within seconds, your robe is opening to expose your naked body.
“I guess I didn’t really have the energy to take care of you last night,” Wonwoo admits, leaning forward to press his lips to the spot above your navel.
You let go of his hand in favour of threading your fingers through his curls, his hair teasing your sensitive skin as he presses kisses up toward your rib cage. He cups the back of your thighs, tugging you closer.
Wonwoo reaches your breasts, his tongue darting out to lick at the underside of your boob, eyes gazing up at you.
“How about a compromise?” he suggests, breath hot on your sensitive skin.
“A compromise?” Your words come out shaky as he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently.
He hums against the sensitive bud, one hand lifting to massage your ass. Then, he pulls away from your breast, looking up at you with a grin. “I just wanna finish your character first.”
You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head at Wonwoo. You step away from him, but he grabs at your hand. “Kiss,” he instructs, and you begrudgingly lean down to press a chaste peck to his lips. His fingers thread through your hair, cupping the back of your skull to keep your mouth on his for a few moments longer, then he releases you. 
“Should only take five or ten minutes,” he tells you. “And I need you here to model.” 
“One second,” you groan, heading to your closet.
If he doesn’t want to fuck you right away, if he wants to prioritize his video game, that’s just fine. You can start without him.
You find a good sized toy, one of the dragon style ones that Wonwoo had been obsessed with a few months ago. He loves watching the coulourful, ribbed cock with a wide ‘knot’ base work you open for him, and fuck it, today feels like a good day for you to enjoy it too.
You also grab a trusty black vibrator and a bottle of lube for good measure before going back to your boyfriend.
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything as you sink to the ground, he simply pushes his chair back, giving you some space to settle under the table his computer is on. You can feel his gaze on you when you open the bottle of lube, squirting some onto the toy before suctioning it to the floor.
“Five or ten minutes, right?” you ask, easing over the head of the toy and facing your boyfriend.
“Uh huh,” he mumbles, looking down to watch the way you sink the head of the toy into your pussy. “Think you can get all the way down to the knot with that time frame?”
“Probably,” you groan, closing your eyes to enjoy the way the tip feels inside of you. “But… puppy, you haven’t fucked me in so long, I’m pretty tight.”
“You’ll work yourself open,” Wonwoo assures you, his attention turning back to his screen, although you can see his cock beginning to strain against the grey fabric of his sweatpants.
The tip of the toy is tapered compared to the base, with all sorts of ridges that stimulate your inner walls as you test yourself up and down. The lube makes it easy to slide an inch or two inside your aching core, and as much as you’d like to try to sink down fully, you want to go slowly with this, seeing as you have five to ten minutes.
You grab your vibrator, turning it up to a medium setting and placing it on your clit. 
Your head is bowed, thighs already quivering as the sensation of the vibrator surges through you. A moan slips past your lips, your pace quickening on the toy, another inch sinking into you with your motions.
“That’s my good baby,” Wonwoo coos, reaching down to cup your cheek.
When you look up at him, you find his gaze still fixed to his computer screen, and it makes you angry.
You bite your lower lip, bouncing faster, harder- pressing the vibrator firmly to your clit in hopes that the pleasurable sensations will distract you from your growing annoyance.
“Wonwoo-” you groan.
“Puppy,” he corrects you.
“Please-”
“Please what?” your boyfriend counters.
“Fuck me?”
Wonwoo looks down at you finally, that shit eating smirk returning to his lips. “One cock inside of you isn’t enough right now, baby?”
“No, want your cock,” you insist.
“Okay, just remember, you asked for it, and I told you five or ten minutes.” Wonwoo sighs, lifting his hips and pulling his pants down, his hard length slapping up against his lower abdomen.
You’d meant you wanted his cock in your pussy, but you suppose you hadn’t specified what you wanted him to fuck-
Sucking Wonwoo off while he creates a video game character hadn’t been on todays bingo card, but you know how your boyfriend gets when he’s gaming, and you fear this might be the only way to have a piece of him while he’s focused.
Licking your lips, you pull him closer, the wheels of his chair dragging against the ground. With the hand not on the vibrator, you grab the base of his cock, adjusting so you can wrap your mouth around the tip.
Wonwoo releases a pleased groan, and you can feel your pussy clench around the toy.
Your eyes close, your focus going to the sensations ringing through your body. You take more of the dragon cock, slowly moving up and down on it in tandem with your mouth on Wonwoo. The vibrations on your clit are still making your legs shake, and as you get lost in the feeling of blowing your lover, you think you might cum pretty quick this way.
“That’s it, baby,” Wonwoo coos. “My good girl, being so patient.”
Fuck him for praising your patience. He knows lines like that make you eager to please him in this way, eager for more whispered words of affirmation even while he’s neglecting your aching pussy, fully content with you using a toy while he prioritizes his game-
“Look up at me for a moment, gorgeous,” he commands, and you do as you’re told. He meets your gaze, his skin flushed from your mouth suctioning on his cock. “Just need to get your eyes right for your character,” he explains, threading his fingers through your hair and aiding you up and down on his throbbing length. “Such pretty eyes. You look so good staring up at me with your mouth stuffed full, baby.”
Fuck. Your toes curl at his words.
If his skin wasn’t betraying the effect you’re having on him, you’d never be able to tell by the steady baritone of his morning voice. He’s not shuddering, not breathing deeply- it makes you want to suck on him even harder. You want to earn Wonwoo’s sounds of pleasure- sounds that can be so rare from a man who uses his voice for a living.
“Hows that cock feel inside of you?” he asks, gaze shifting up to his screen again. “Getting you nice and stretched for me, huh?”
You groan around his length, sucking roughly on his sensitive tip.
Wonwoo takes a sharp breath, and your body tingles with your success of earning a strangled sound from him.
“I’m almost done,” he assures you. “But I want to watch you take the knot first, be a good girl and sink down on the toy for me.”
You pull off of his cock with a popping sound, wiping a hand across your saliva wet lips. “What does it matter to you? You can’t even see me taking this.”
“True, but I know the sounds you make when you stuff yourself full with that toy. Wanna hear your pretty sounds baby.”
How is he so good at dirty talk while still staring at his computer screen?
“Nerd,” you whisper under your breath.
“Hmm?” He looks down at you with a grin, and you know he heard what you said.
“Nothing.”
“You’re gonna get it in two minutes,” he warns.
“Lucky me,” you say sarcastically, riding the toy faster, pushing yourself closer and closer to the wide base.
Wonwoo’s left hand finds his cock, and he begins to stroke himself while you focus on your own pleasure, rubbing the vibrator back and forth along your aching clit.
A whimper escapes you when you sink all the way down to the knot of the toy, hovering over the widest section.
“That’s the sound,” Wonwoo muses. “Come on, sink down on it.”
“I’m too tight,” you tell him, moving up and down, unable to go any further onto the knotted base.
“When you take it, I’ll take you,” Wonwoo promises, stroking his cock faster.
Looking up at him, you find your boyfriend staring at you now. He’s set the controller aside, and you have his full attention.
“Can’t you just fuck me right now?” you plead, motions stopping.
“I’m just a gamer nerd, remember, baby? Isn’t it my job to watch an angel like you make herself cum on some stupid toy before I get a taste?”
Fuck. 
He makes it sound like he’s the victim here, although clearly you’re the one aching for him.
“Puppy,” you groan, looking down and focusing on taking the knot. “I’m not wet enough-”
“Then cum. Use your vibe and make yourself cum, should make it easier.”
“But I want you,” you whine.
He laughs. “Brat.”
“Nerd,” you fire back. 
Wonwoo’s grin only widens. “Be a good girl, make yourself cum, take the dragon knot-”
“Anything else?” you huff, rubbing the vibrator hard on your clit.
“Yeah, one more thing.” Wonwoo sits back smugly in his chair, spreading his thighs even wider. “Suck my balls.” 
You narrow your eyes at him. Sucking his dick is one thing, but sucking his balls? Generally with past boyfriends, you’ve stuck to their cocks- but Wonwoo has a very specific way of challenging you to do things like this. 
He knows you can’t refuse. He carries all the cards. If you want his dick inside of you, you’re going to have to do this for him. It’s not like you hate sucking balls, it’s not like you’ve ever voiced it to him that this is a boundary for you, it’s just… regularly, you’d rather… well, you’d rather not. 
But you suppose this is what you get for calling him a nerd. 
With a sigh, you lean forward, licking at the space just below the fingers wrapped around the base of his cock.
“Don’t be shy,” he tells you. 
You decide to focus mainly on your own pleasure while you take one of his balls into your mouth. He’s doing this to degrade you, to get back at you for being impatient- but at the same time, from the contented groan that leaves his lips, you know Wonwoo’s sensitive in this area. 
His sounds do make things easier for you, and you close your eyes, rubbing your clit hard with the vibrator.
“That’s it,” he coos. “I love it when you’re a good girl for me.”
You whimper at his words, your core throbbing desperately.
“Better be fast and cum though, I’m not sure I can handle much of this, you’re just so good with your mouth.”
And now he’s threatening to not even fuck you? He’ll stroke himself to the finish line if you don’t cum first?
This man will be the death of you.
“Come on, baby, I know you want to cum,” he encourages you. “Be a good girl and just do it, cum from that vibrator and the dragon cock inside your tight fucking pussy.”
His words are the last straw and you pull off his balls to let out a deep groan. You bury your face against his thigh, pussy fluttering as your orgasm slams into you. Your walls contract around what you can take of the toy, and you feel a rush of wetness coat the silicon, helping you bob up and down even faster-
“That’s it,” Wonwoo breathes, rubbing his cock even faster. “Just a little more and I’ll fuck you.”
You whimper like a whore in heat, biting gently against Wonwoo’s thigh as you push yourself to sink further onto the toy, your inner walls screaming at you due to the stretch.
“Good girl,” your boyfriend praises you, petting you with a warm hand that makes your entire body ache.
You turn the vibrator off, nearly overstimulated. Tossing it to the side you focus on the dildo, feeling your pussy stretch to accommodate part of the knot.
“Almost there,” Wonwoo says, and by the way he’s stroking his cock, you’re not sure if he’s talking about you or himself.
“Wonwoo, please,” you beg. “I can’t-”
“You’re the one who wanted to be filled today, just take a little more and I’ll fill you,” he says, his motions faltering on his length. 
You grab at his thighs, squeezing and using him for leverage to rock up and down on the toy. Your eyes clench shut as you bob up and down, your wetness coating the silicon until-
You let out a gasp as you sink fully onto the toy, pausing while your thighs quiver. Another mini orgasm rushes through you at the feeling of being stretched this way, the knot stuck in your sensitive hole-
“That’s it,” Wonwoo says, moving into action immediately. He pushes away from you, standing up. Hands that are surprisingly gentle reach down and pull you to your feet, making you cry out from the way the toy is still lodged inside of you. “Fuck, you are tight,” he notes from the way the dragon cock didn’t immediately shoot out of you from the change in position. 
“Puppy-” you whimper, already delirious. 
Wonwoo helps you onto the bed, sinking to his knees at the foot of the mattress. He spreads your thighs, and you look down to see his pupils blow with lust while he stares at the large toy still embedded in your pussy.
He licks his lips. “Fuck, I always love it when you take this fucking knot.”
You whisper his name, moaning loudly when he grabs the base of the toy and gently thrusts it in and out of you. 
Then, he shifts, and his tongue finds your clit. “One more?” he practically pleads. “Then another when I’m inside of you?”
It’s been days since he’s made you cum, and it feels like today, he’s going to make up for that. You can bet that by tonight, you’ll have lost track of how many times you’ve orgasmed, and you honestly don’t mind.
“Please,” you whisper, reaching down to thread your fingers in his sleep tossled curls.
Wonwoo wraps his lips around your clit, gently rocking the toy inside of you. He doesn’t pull it all the way out, just shifts the knot along your sensitive walls, stretched to the limit and already throbbing.
“Fuck, that’s so good, puppy,” you groan, throwing your head back, eyes clenching shut. You begin to rock your hips, feeling impossibly full- his mouth suctions lewdly around your sensitive bud and your entire body quakes, thighs shaking on either side of his head. “Shit-”
Wonwoo grins against your pussy, an invitation for you to cum on the toy-
Fuck, you need him so badly, and your need spurs your body on, your muscles clenching as you teeter on the edge of an orgasm.
His teeth graze your clit and that’s all you need to topple over the edge, your legs attempting to close around Wonwoo while your pussy throbs desperately around the toy. The sounds escaping you now are practically inhumane, your entire body overtaken by white hot pleasure that courses through you like an electric wave.
Wonwoo pulls the toy from your core and you jolt from the loss, eyes opening to stare down at your boyfriend-
He releases your clit from your mouth, standing quickly. “Fuck, you look so good cumming on that stupid toy,” Wonwoo groans, grabbing the base of his cock and lining his tip up with your still aching pussy. “Gonna fill you now, like I promised.”
He sheaths himself inside of you and you let out a loud moan of releif. “Puppy,” you whimper, making grabby hands at him.
Wonwoo wastes no time, shifting his knees onto the bed, getting on top of you so he can press his lips to yours. Your tongues begin to clash immediately, and the kiss feels almost feverish as you tangle your fingers in his curls.
He’s such a good kisser, but you can hardly focus on his lips with the way his hips are already moving, thrusting so the tip of his cock hits your cervix with each motion-
“Fuck, fuck-” you whimper, feeling tears in your eyes from the overstimulation.
Wonwoo’s mouth finds your throat, his mouth narrowing in on your sweet spot, sucking roughly.
“Puppy-” you cry, tangling your legs tighter around his hips.
“I know, I’m close too,” he pants. “Watching you take that fucking knot just does something to me-”
Your core throbs at his words- you’d guessed he’d been close while jacking off, but hearing him say it this directly makes you even hornier. Your pussy is a sloppy mess, so wet that each thrust has it practically squelching.
 “Please, puppy, please-” you pant, nuzzling against his cheek and licking at his sensitive ear. “Want your cum, want it so bad.”
“Fuck,” Wonwoo groans. “Rub your clit, need you squeezing me when I cum.” 
You shove a hand between your bodies, nearly crying from the sensitivity of your overworked bud- but you’re not about to give up now. You’re not a weakling, and if Wonwoo wants one more orgasm out of you, you’ll give him one.
“Feels so good,” you gasp, rubbing even harder, your core clenching tight around Wonwoo’s cock while he pants loudly in your ear.
“Need you to cum,” he grits out, fingers digging into your hips. “Come on, baby, cum for me.”
You shut your eyes tight, focusing on all the pleasure surging through you, and when Wonwoo bites gently into your throat, your high hits you straight on.
You gasp loudly, back arching off of the bed, pushing your tits toward Wonwoo’s chest. He releases his own sound of pleasure, and you can feel his cock throbbing while your walls clench around him, painting your insides as you both cum hard. 
You listen to his moans, loving the way he grabs you tightly as he cums, his thrusts faltering, motions shallow, as if he wants to be as deep as possible when he fills you up.
Your lips find his throat, pressing kisses there that make him shiver as you ride out your orgasms, and soon, your muscles are relaxing, the tightness making way for a slacked, exhausted feeling that overwhelms you.
Wonwoo stills on top of you, panting loudly by your ear.
“I think…” he swallows thickly. “I think we should go back to sleep now.”
You laugh, petting his curls. “What about your precious video game?”
“Fuck the video game,” he counters. “Right now, I’m going to clean you up, go back to sleep with you curled on my chest, then we can wake up in a few hours, do it again, get takeout-”
“You have the whole day planned out, don’t you, nerd?”
Wonwoo only laughs. “Don’t test me, baby.”
“Never.”
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! As much as I love longer fics, I'm such an avid reader of pwp for the anime's I watch, so I wanted to do something shorter and easier for those who like a bite sized fic instead of a full course meal :)
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. “That’s it,” Wonwoo coos. He simply can’t help his dominant tendencies. How is it that you’re supposed to be the one in control, but it still feels like he’s got you wrapped around his finger... And his cock.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, handcuff bondage, reader tries to dom Wonwoo, edging, oral, blow job, pussy eating, 69, choking, dirty talk, pet names, reader is slightly in control, Wonwoo breaks the handcuffs, slight crying/dacryphilia, power dynamic, power switch, teasing, creampie, slight fallout roleplay, masturbation, deep throating, etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby (his) puppy, sir 
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3k I teaser wc. 130
🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
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bonus
“Hey, puppy?” you call, standing in the doorway of your bedroom, watching your boyfriend close up his stream for the night.
“Yes, baby?”
The nerd doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing, but you suppose that’s no new behaviour. With a huff, you disconnect from the door frame, sauntering over to Wonwoo, your skin tight outfit squeezing you with each step.
Leaning over his back, you allow your hands to dance across his chest, Wonwoo looks down, and that’s when you get his attention.
His body goes rigid, and he slowly turns to look at you, taking in the full body Fallout Vault dweller costume you’re wearing.
“Baby…” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle, “what are you doing?”
“Playing into your addiction,” you say smoothly. “What, you don’t like it?”
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general taglist
@gotshinct - @runahways - @milkteade - @mocha000
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thanks to those who interacted with the teaser
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sturniolosangel · 1 month ago
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save a horse ride a?
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warnings: best friend dynamic, innocent bambi!reader, experienced!matt, flirting, kissing, thigh riding, corruption in a way, not proof read as always
a/n: first day of kinktober baby! i really hope you guys enjoy the whole month of fics! this is just a small of what big things are coming all puns intended. as always i🤍u
summary: reader is starting to obsessed over the farm life especially cowboys. what happens when matt takes her to the country and dresses the part?
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i sat happy in front of matt as he showed me an air bnb he rented for the two of us on the country side. “matt i didn’t think you would actually book the trip” i spoke softly. “of course anything for you but go pack your bags we leave tomorrow morning” he replied back. i sat up almost skipping to my bedroom to pack up my stuff.
once i was done grabbing all of my things it was around 8pm and matt said he had ordered food so i walked downstairs to meet him. “love hurry the foods gonna get cold” he slightly raised his voice. “i’m here calm down” i giggled. i sat with him as i put on a show while matt go the food ready.
as soon as we were done eating i was wiped out an ready for bed. “matt come onn im tired” i grabbed his hand dragging him up the steps.
the next morning..
me and matt are sitting in the car his hand on my thigh as he drove. “we’re here i’ll help you get your stuff just go unlock the door the code is 5555” matt spoke lightly as he got up. “on it” i smiled as i got up to the door.
all of our stuff was now unpacked and matt had planned horse riding for us so i started to get ready. i chose a red and white plaid dress and some brown cowgirl boots. “love! are you almost ready we have to leave soon” matt yelled from down the steps. “yeah i’m about to be done” i yelled back.
i walked down the steps to meet a very hot matt with a red and black plaid button up with a black cowboy hat. i felt a werid feeling in my body as a wet patch started to grow in my underwear. “so how do i look?” matt ask softy. “really good you know i gotta thing for cowboys” i whispered back. matt smirked as he grabbed his keys and waved his hand to follow him outside.
we arrived to farm as i saw all the pretty horses. “i want that one” i said as i pointed to white one. “i want this one” matt replied to the black one ironically standing next to the white one. i giggled as the instructor helped us get each of the horses.
i already knew how to ride a horse but seeing matt struggle was the best part. as the horse picked up the saddle rubbed in the right spot as i gasped out. matt came next to me on his horse “you okay” he asked “yeah just fine” i replied as i blushed.
matt was now infront of me and god did he look good. this unfamiliar feeling rose in my body again and i felt like i had an itch that i couldn’t scratch. when we were done i make sure to get a picture of matt and us with the horses.
as we got back to the air bnb i had to ask matt about what i was feeling was bothering me so bad i felt like i was gonna burst. “matt.. can you please come here” i called out from the bedroom. i could hear footsteps getting closer. “yeah what’s wrong love?” he said coming into the room.
“i feel something very weird and i think i might need help” i spoke softly. “what’s it that you’re feeling” he questioned. “it’s like an urge down there and i have no idea what to do like it almost hurts” i said embarrassed. matt seem to understand and wasn’t confused at all “come here baby” he patted his thigh.
i got up and sat up on his thigh and wrapped my hands around his neck. “can you help me?” i questioned desperately. “i got you, just be patient” he whispered. he grabbed my waist as he slowly rocked my hip back and forth on his jeans. i threw my head back as i felt some relief.
“feels really good matt” he took my face in his palm an connected our lips. i groaned into his mouth as my hips started to move on their own. he disconnected our lips to lift me up to my feet to reach his hands under my dress to slide off my panties.
“sit back down baby” he spoke a little more demanding. i sat back down on his thigh as i felt a new type of feeling. he pushed on my waist to add pressure as i rocked my now bare pussy against him. “fuck..” i moaned out.
matt took his flannel off and threw it on the floor leaving him with a black tank on. his lips started to leave kisses along my neck and his hands started to kneed my boobs through my dress. my hips bucked onto his thigh not knowing how this could feel so good. “matt i need to feel your touch.. please” i whined out.
“like this baby” his thumb started to rub my clit as my eyes rolled back and my back arched. “yes! fuck that feels amazing” i almost screamed out.
i felt the pressure build up in my stomach as i put my head in his neck as my hand slide up to his cowboy head and gripped my fingers around it. “that’s it love keep going you’re doing so good” matt spoke into my ear.
i picked up my paste as i felt the wetness spread onto his pants. “matt i think im gonna!…” before i could finished i was cumming all over matt’s leg as i gripped on his shirt and my legs started to shake. “good girl you feel better now?” matt said rubbing my back.
“so much better matt but i’m so tired” i spoke cuddling my head into his neck. “it’s okay baby we’ll go get a bath” he picked me up and took me to the bathroom as he sat me on the counter and started the bath. he started to take my clothes off and his and he picked me up once again and sitting us in the bathtub.
“if you ever have the feeling when you’re with me tell me you know i’ll always help my baby” he whispered. i rolled my head back onto his chest. “of course who else would i be so comfortable with asking” i said slowly closing my eyes to relax.
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liked by matthew.sturniolo, christophersturniolo, madisonbeer and 1,275,529 others.
yn.yln: how does it go.. save a horse ride a? @/ matthew.sturniolo
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liked by yn.yln, christophersturniolo, nicolassturniolo, and 1,100.637 others.
mathewsturniolo: maybe the farm life isn’t that bad @/ yn.yln
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a/n: i’m sorry this took me forever to get out today but trust everything will be posted everyday just takes time. i hope you enjoyed the little insta post at the end as well trying some new things! also some tags aren’t working so bare with me! i🤍u
taglist! @mattsbitchh @st7rnioioss @sweetlikesug4rvenom @ivysturnss @lormyaaa @slut4m4tt @sarahlovesyoualot @ilovemattsturniolo35 @melspam @daisy011 @matts-myloverboy @tsturniolo4 @mattsturnswife
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ellecdc · 3 days ago
Note
Hey gorg!!!
I saw the post about wanting pregnant reader/ dad marauders prompts and I literally ran here.
I’ve got two ideas, so whichever gives you the most inspiration/ whatever you like best 😂
1- pregnant!reader who just hits her limit for the day- overwhelmed and overstimulated with everything to the point she jsut wants to sit and cry- all because of something silly
Or!!
2- reader on their first day away from baby with the girls- leaving dad!marauders to it, coming back to a baby who’s very excited to be free from the chaos of the boys.
Lots of love!!
-🥟
eeeeeeeek I went with #2!!! thank you my love <3
dad!marauders x mum!reader who saves their daughter from the boys' tyranny [522 words]
CW: kid fic, fem!reader, you have a daughter but I avoided assigning her a name (let me know how ya'll prefer that: do you want me to name the kid? or do you want me to leave it ambiguous? I feel like it would probably read easier/more naturally with an assigned name, but I understand if you like making that up yourself)
“Oh thank gods you’re home.” Sirius pushed out all in one breath as he hastily stood from the couch with your daughter in hand. 
You clicked the door shut behind you as you took your shoes off, furrowing your brows at a frazzled looking Sirius and an equally frazzled looking baby in his arms. 
“You have to help us.” He begged quickly. “They’re driving us mad.”
“What?” You laughed carefully, though you had to admit that your child had a nearly identical pout on her lips as her papa, and you were quite sure babies her age didn’t have the ability to conspire. 
Though, you were sure if any baby could conspire, it would be a baby Marauder. 
“They haven’t stopped all day.” Sirius enunciated, whispering at you and looking over his shoulder as if some invisible threat was going to attack at any given moment. “Jamie got up this morning on a warpath; first we went on a family walk to feed the ducks some corn. Fine, I’ll let it slide. We no sooner got home, and Moony set up the sandbox in the yard. Great. But then, James insisted we go to the park! Which - okay, that was fun, because I got to run around as Padfoot. But then after a mere 20 minute nap, Remus had us out at the stream catching and releasing frogs!”
You awed in sympathy as you brushed some fine hair away from your baby girl’s forehead who was using her two pudgy hands to rub at her eyes.
“You tired, lovie?” You asked the child, but they both whined a yes in response. 
“Okay.” You murmured as you accepted the sleepy child’s grabby hands, only for her to immediately rest her head on your shoulder and melt into your embrace.
“Pads? Where’d you guys run off to?” James called from the other room, and Sirius’ paled. “We’ve got the water table set up.”
“Oh gods,” Sirius whimpered, “they’re coming.”
“Sirius,” you started to chide, but he simply turned and started pushing you towards the hall that led to the bedrooms.
“Go, save yourselves. I’ll hold them off.” He whispered theatrically.
“Sirius!” You squealed, laughing as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head - taking a deep breath as if he was trying to memorise your scent like he may never get the chance to do it again - and pat at your hip. 
“Make sure our baby girl grows up knowing the sacrifices her brave, brave papa made for her.” He offered solemnly, walking backwards as he held your gaze. “Go! Nap! Rest! Waste the day away in ways many of us only dream!” 
You giggled at him as he disappeared around the corner, hearing Remus murmur “what the hell was all that about?” only to hear a grunt, a chuckle, and a theatric “I won’t let you tyrannise our sweet girls any longer!”
“What do you say, sweetheart? Time for a nap?” You murmured as you made your way towards your bedroom; a nap did sound appealing, now that you thought about it. 
An answer never came, however; she was already fast asleep.
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coco-cinnamon · 16 days ago
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Better Than Me?
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౨ৎ Warnings: cursing, drinking, Y/N being a bit of a player (I've never wrote Y/N doing that so lmao), sexual themes, degrading, smut, Rafe being an ass but, when is he not lol 18+ MDNI.
౨ৎ Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Female Kook Reader.
౨ৎ Summary: When Y/N is at a party, she messes with Rafe, pretending like she's tired of him and going to go to Topper for her new sex buddy but, Rafe makes sure she learns her lesson.
౨ৎ Word Count: 900+ words.
౨ৎ Author's Note: this was originally supposed to be a re-write of one of my old Topper fics but, it turned into a Rafe fic lmao. I'll post the old Topper fic soon.
©coco-cinnamon 2024, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.
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Sipping your beer from a red solo cup, you surveyed the lively party. The pulsing music reverberated in your chest, as Rafe Cameron's parties always went all out. When one of your friends caught your eye and waved you over to the dance floor, you smiled back, ready to join her. But before you could make your way through the crowd, a hand suddenly gripped your arm.
Attempting to pull your arm away, you snap, "What the fuck?!" But it's no use - their grip is like iron around your arm. You whip yourself around to see who had grabbed you. Looking up, you're met with ocean blue eyes staring down into yours, hazy with lust. "What the fuck do you want, Rafe?" you ask, finally managing to yank your arm out of his grip. He just smirks at you, his eyes a mix of amusement and lust. "That isn't any way to greet the host, is it?"
You crossed your arms, your gaze piercing up at him. "Again, what the hell do you want?" you asked.
He smirked. "Well, I figured since you came to my party, we could head up to my bedroom. I'm sure we could do way more interesting things up there than you would be able to do over there with your friends."
You cocked a brow, considering his words. He watched you, his impatience growing evident on his face. With a sarcastic smile, you said, "Thanks, but no thanks," and began to turn away. Before you could fully turn around and walk off, he yanked you back to face him again. Rolling your eyes, you groaned, "what now?"
"I thought we had something good going on here." he said, tilting his head quizzically. "We did, at first." you replied with a small shrug. His jaw clenched slightly as he growled, "What do you mean 'at first'?" Maintaining a calm demeanor and a small smirk, you replied, "Exactly what I said. At first, we had a pretty sweet thing, but then I got bored. Plain and simple." You crossed your arms as you continued, "You care more about your own pleasure than mine, so I'm no longer interested."
Rafe scoffed bitterly. "No longer interested? That's bullshit, Y/N, and you know it. You and I both know there's no one here who can make you feel as good as I do. No one knows your body like I do. Do you really think any of these idiots could make you cum the way I can?" He growled, tightening his grip on your shoulders.
You smirked up at him. "Maybe, maybe not. But it's worth a shot to see if anyone can do better. As of right now, I've got my eye on him." You gestured towards Topper Thornton, who was across the room drinking and chatting with Kelce. Rafe let out a mocking laugh, as if the very notion was absurd. "Really?! Topper Thornton is who you're interested in?" he scoffed. "That's got to be a joke, Y/N. You'd actually lower your standards that much?"
"I think I already lowered my standards when I started sleeping with you," you retorted with a smirk, knowing you were getting under his skin. You begin to speak once again, "I mean, Topper is very attractive. Or if you'd rather, I could go and sleep with Maybank. I know for a fact that he'd know how to—"
But you get cut off as Rafe's hand suddenly wraps around your throat. He yanks you forward, his nose only inches from yours. The height difference causes you to rise up on your tiptoes. "Cut it out Y/N or I swear to god I will take you up those fucking stairs right now and fuck your ass so hard that you won't be able to walk the next day." He said, his voice lethally soft. You look up at him, remaining defiant as a a smirk playing on your lips before you speak "I think I'd rather Topper over there to fuck me."
"You want Topper to fuck you?! Fine!" He snaps, his grip around your throat tightening slightly as he continues, "but just know that I will make you beg on your fucking hands and knees when you crawl back to me, begging me for my cock because Topper couldn't fuck you properly." With that, he roughly drops you. You glance over to where Topper stands with Kelce, then shift your gaze back to Rafe. He smirks down at you, tilting his head. "Well? What are you waiting for? I thought you wanted to whore yourself out to Topper." His grin widens as he sees your face twist with annoyance. "Or are you having second thoughts?"
You glared at him before turning around and starting to make your way towards Topper. But before you could reach him, Rafe came over and grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder. He then smacked your ass roughly, eliciting a squeak from you.
"I- what the hell, Rafe?!" you yelled as he carried you towards the stairs. "Did you really think I was going to let you fuck him? You're mine, Y/N, and by the end of the night the only name that will be able to leave your lips is mine," he growled.
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౨ৎ Author's Note: tysm for reading, babes! part two coming soon!
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nyrasvoid · 2 months ago
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Through Love and Sorrow
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♡︎ Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader
𖤓 Summary: After the joy of expecting their first child is shattered by a devastating miscarriage, Gwayne Hightower returns home to find his wife consumed by grief.
⚝ Warnings: Angst, Miscarriage, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy Insecurities, Emotional Trauma.
⚝ A/N: this fic also includes a kinda mother-son relationship between reader and Daeron,btw sorry I haven’t posted anything in like two weeks lmao
-Word count: ≈4.4k
This fanfic is a request from a while ago (link)
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You sat in your room, the sunlight pouring through the tall windows. Your hands moved skillfully with the needle and thread, working on a small attire—a delicate onesie you had lovingly made for your child, your first with Gwayne.
As you finished the final stitch, you glanced at the door, eager for Gwayne’s return. You had planned carefully how to share the wonderful news with him, and now the moment had arrived.
The door creaked open, and Gwayne stepped in, looking tired but his face brightening when he saw you. “My love,” he greeted, coming over to kiss your cheek. “You look especially happy today. What’s going on?”
You smiled and took his hand, guiding him to sit beside you. “I’ve been working on something,” you said. “And I want to show you.”
Gwayne watched as you pulled the small onesie from behind your back and placed it in his hands. His brow furrowed for a moment in confusion before realization dawned on him. He looked up at you, his eyes wide with disbelief and excitement.
“Is this…?” he started, his voice full of wonder.
You nodded, unable to keep the smile from your face. “Yes, Gwayne. We’re going to have a babe.”
He stared at you for a moment, the onesie still in his hands as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.
Then, without warning, he pulled you into his arms, laughing with joy. “A babe! We’re going to have a child!” His voice was full of emotion, his grip on you tightening as he buried his face in your neck. “Gods, I’m the luckiest man alive.”
You laughed with him, feeling the warmth of his love surround you. He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you deeply, then gently placed his hand on your belly. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, as he got on one knee to kiss your barely swollen belly
“We’ll have a little one running around soon, with your beauty and wit,” Gwayne continued, his voice thick with emotion as he caressed your belly, where your child was beginning to grow. “We’ll teach them everything—how to ride, how to wield a sword, everything. I’ll be by your side through it all.”
You smiled, leaning into his touch. “And I’ll make sure they know how to be kind and strong, like their father.”
Gwayne laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with the kind of happiness that made your heart swell. “And stubborn like their mother, I’m sure.”
The days following the joyful news were some of the happiest of your life. Gwayne was attentive and loving, always making sure you had everything you needed, always talking about the future and the life you would build together. But as time went on, you began to be more worried and insecure.
The other ladies at court had spoken to you, sharing their experiences with childbirth—how their bodies had changed, how their husbands had sometimes seeked comfort elsewhere during those vulnerable weeks after the birth. They’d laugh softly, as if it were just a fact of life, but their words dug deep into your mind, planting seeds of doubt and fear.
You found yourself pulling away from Gwayne, unsure of how to voice your fears. He would come to you with that familiar smile, eager to talk about the babe or to spend time with you, but you would turn away, offering only brief responses, avoiding his touch.
It was not that you loved him any less—if anything, your love for him had only grown deeper—but the fear of losing him, of not being enough, was paralyzing.
One night, as you lay beside him in bed, the silence stretched on longer than usual. Gwayne finally turned to you, concern evident in his voice. “Darling, what’s wrong? You’ve been so distant lately. Have I done something to upset you?”
You stared up at the ceiling, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to reveal the insecurities that had taken hold of you. But Gwayne was insistent, turning onto his side and taking your hand in his. “Please, my love. Talk to me.”
The words came slowly, hesitantly, as you struggled to express your feelings. “I… I’ve heard the other ladies at court talk,” you began, whispering.
“About how their bodies changed after childbirth, how they couldn’t… couldn’t be with their husbands for weeks, sometimes longer. And how their husbands…” You swallowed hard, unable to finish the thought.
Gwayne’s grip on your hand tightened as he waited for you to continue, his eyes fixed on your face, his worry deepening.
“They said their husbands sought comfort in other women,” you finally confessed, your voice breaking. “In whores. And I—I’m afraid, Gwayne. I’m afraid that I’ll change, that I won’t be… enough for you anymore. That you’ll look elsewhere.”
For a moment, there was silence. You didn’t dare look at him, too ashamed of the words you had spoken. But then Gwayne did something you didn’t expect. He started to laugh—a soft, warm chuckle that caught you off guard.
You turned to him, confused and a little hurt. “Gwayne, this isn’t funny—”
“No, no, it’s not that,” he said quickly, his laughter fading as he saw the tears in your eyes. He leaned in, brushing his lips against your forehead. “It’s just… the thought of me with anyone else is absurd. My love, you are my heart, my soul. There is no one in this world who could ever compare to you.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a gentle kiss. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone serious now. “You are the only woman I want, the only woman I will ever want. The idea of seeking pleasure in someone else when I have you is ridiculous. Those other men—they’re fools. I would never betray you, never.”
You felt a rush of relief at his words, though the doubt still lingered. “But what if—”
“No what-ifs,” Gwayne interrupted, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “I swear to you, on every star in the sky, that I will never stray. And if any man tells you differently, I’ll knock his teeth out.”
A small laugh escaped you, despite yourself. Gwayne grinned, his eyes twinkling as he saw the smile return to your face. “See? There’s that smile I love so much. You’re going to be a wonderful mother, and we’re going to be a wonderful family. No matter what changes, I’ll be right here, by your side.”
That night, the two of you found solace in each other, and as you drifted off to sleep, you felt the fears that had plagued you begin to disappear, replaced by the strength of your bond and the love you shared.
---
A few weeks later, you, Gwayne, and Daeron sat at the dining table, enjoying a simple meal. Daeron was telling you about his day, his young face alight with enthusiasm as he described his lessons and adventures. You smiled fondly at him, listening intently as he spoke about a new bird he had seen in the gardens.
“And then it swooped down, right in front of me! I almost thought it would land on my shoulder like the falcons do on their keepers,” Daeron said, eyes wide with excitement.
Gwayne chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair. You laughed softly, reaching out to squeeze Daeron’s hand. “You’re already quite the little adventurer. Perhaps one day you’ll ride with your uncle on his journeys.”
Daeron’s face lit up at the thought, and he looked eagerly at Gwayne. “Will you take me with you one day, Uncle?”
Gwayne smiled, “One day, certainly. But I’m afraid I have to leave again in three days’ time for an important matter in Blackcrown. I’ll only be gone for a month, maybe less.”
You felt a pang of worry at his words, though you did your best to hide it. You had hoped he wouldn’t need to leave again so soon, but you understood the responsibilities that came with his position. “Just promise me you’ll be back well before the babe is due,” you said. “I don’t want to have to deliver without you.”
Gwayne took your hand across the table, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’ll be back in plenty of time, I promise. Nothing could keep me from being here for you and our child.”
Daeron looked between the two of you, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. “You’ll come back safe, right, Uncle?”
“Of course, Daeron,” Gwayne replied with a warm smile. “I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”
True to his word, Gwayne departed three days later. You and Daeron saw him off, Daeron clutching his uncle’s hand until the very last moment, and you pressing a kiss to Gwayne’s lips, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in your heart. As Gwayne rode away, you couldn’t help but feel a little sadness, but you reminded yourself that he would be back soon, that everything would be alright.
In the days and weeks that followed, you busied yourself with preparations for the babe. You spent hours knitting tiny clothes and blankets, imagining the child that would soon be in your arms. Daeron often kept you company, helping you with small tasks or just sitting nearby, chatting about his day.
One afternoon, you decided to take a walk in the woods with Daeron. The two of you had grown close over the years, and you cherished the bond you shared. As you walked along the familiar paths, Daeron spoke of his lessons.
“Auntie,” he began after a moment of comfortable silence.
Just as you were about to respond, a sharp, sudden pain shot through your abdomen, stealing your breath. You gasped, clutching at your belly as the pain intensified, bringing you to your knees.
“Auntie?” Daeron’s voice was laced with panic as he rushed to your side. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
The pain was unbearable, radiating through your entire body. You could barely find the words, but you managed to gasp, “Daeron, get help. Quickly.”
Daeron hesitated, his face pale with fear, but then he nodded. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, I’ll get help.” With that, he sprinted back toward the keep, his small legs carrying him as fast as they could.
You were left alone in the woods, the cold earth beneath you as the pain continued to wrack your body. You knew, deep down, that something was terribly wrong. Fear gripped you as you realized you might be losing the baby. Your heart ached with the thought, but there was nothing you could do except wait.
By the time help arrived, the miscarriage had already happened. The maids and guards who found you tried to help, but the damage was done. The life that had been growing inside you was gone, leaving you with an overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness.
Ignoring the advice of the maesters, who urged you to rest and be carried back to the keep, you walked on your own, numb to the world around you. The only thing on your mind was the baby you had lost and how Gwayne would react when he found out. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the disappointment in his eyes, even though you knew it wasn’t your fault.
Once you reached the keep, you went straight to the nursery. The small room that had been filled with so much hope and joy now felt empty and desolate. You sat down on the edge of the small bed, your hands trembling as you picked up the half-finished blanket you had been knitting for the babe.
Days passed in a blur. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave the nursery or eat. The maids came and went, offering food and kind words, but you paid them no mind. The world outside the nursery seemed to fade away, leaving you alone with your grief.
Daeron was the only one who could get through to you, even if just a little. He would visit you every day, sitting beside you and talking about anything and everything. His presence was a small comfort, a reminder that you were not entirely alone, even in your darkest moments.
One afternoon, Daeron came to the nursery as usual. He looked at you with concern. “Auntie, you have to eat something. The maesters say it’s important. Uncle Gwayne wouldn’t want you to get sick.”
You shook your head, still clutching the blanket. “I’m not hungry, Daeron. I just… I can’t.”
Daeron sighed, sitting down beside you. “I know you’re sad. I miss the babe too, even though I never got to meet them. But Uncle Gwayne will be back today. Maybe… maybe he can help you feel better.”
You didn’t respond, the weight of your grief pressing down on you. But Daeron’s words lingered in your mind. Gwayne was coming home. You weren’t sure how you would face him, how you would tell him about the baby, but you knew you couldn’t avoid it forever.
Daeron leaned in and gave you a hug, his small arms wrapped around you tightly. “I love you, auntie. And Uncle Gwayne does too. Don’t forget that.”
His simple words brought tears to your eyes, and you hugged him back. “I love you too, Daeron. Thank you.”
Daeron smiled up at you, his eyes full of warmth and understanding. He squeezed your hand before standing up to leave. “I’ll go and make sure everything is ready for Uncle Gwayne’s return. I’ll come back later, alright?”
You nodded, watching as he left the room. Alone again, you stared down at the blanket in your lap, running your fingers over the soft fabric. You had poured so much love into this tiny piece of cloth, and now it felt like a cruel reminder of what you had lost.
Hours later, you heard footsteps approaching the nursery. Your heart clenched with a mix of dread and longing. The door creaked open, and Gwayne entered, his expression filled with concern and urgency.
“My love?” His voice was soft, but it was filled with worry. He rushed to your side, kneeling before you as he gently took your hands in his. “Daeron told me… told me what happened.”
The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, and you couldn’t stop them. “I lost the babe, Gwayne,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry.”
Gwayne’s eyes filled with pain, but he quickly pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you wept. “Shh, it’s not your fault, my love. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked your hair.
“I feel like I failed you,” you sobbed, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. “I couldn’t protect our child…”
Gwayne pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own filled with unwavering love and determination. “Love, listen to me. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. You could never fail me, and this… this is not your fault. It was beyond our control, and I don’t blame you for a single moment.”
You searched his face, looking for any hint of disappointment or anger, but all you found was love and compassion. He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there as he whispered, “We’re still young, my love. We have time, and we will have children—many, I hope. But right now, all that matters is you. I’m here for you, and we’ll get through this together.”
His words were like a balm to your wounded heart, easing some of the pain that had consumed you. You nodded, resting your head against his chest as you let out a shuddering breath. “I love you, Gwayne,” you whispered.
“And I love you,” he replied, holding you tightly. “More than anything in this world. We will get through this, I promise you that.”
Gwayne held you close for what felt like an eternity, letting you cry, letting you release the pain you’d been holding onto since the miscarriage. His presence was a steady comfort, a reminder that you weren’t alone, that he would be there for you no matter what.
After a long while, Gwayne pulled back slightly, brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. “Come, my love,” he said gently. “Let’s get you out of here. We don’t have to stay in this room. We can go anywhere you’d like—anywhere that will bring you peace.”
You hesitated, looking around the nursery. The room had once been a place of joy and anticipation, but now it felt suffocating, a reminder of the loss you had suffered. You nodded slowly, realizing that staying here would only prolong your grief.
“Alright,” you whispered, letting him help you to your feet. You wavered slightly, still feeling weak, but Gwayne was there to steady you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
As you left the nursery together, you found yourself leaning on Gwayne more than ever before. He didn’t mind, guiding you gently through the halls of the keep, away from the place that had brought you so much pain. He led you to your chambers, where a fire had been lit, casting a warm, comforting glow over the room.
Gwayne helped you sit by the fire, then knelt beside you, taking your hands in his again. “You don’t have to be strong right now,” he said softly. “Let me take care of you.”
You nodded, too drained to argue, too weary to pretend that you could handle this on your own. Gwayne stayed by your side, talking to you quietly, telling you stories from his travels, stories meant to distract you, to bring a small smile to your face. He was patient, understanding, never pushing you to talk about the miscarriage, but always offering comfort in whatever way he could.
A few days later, when you had gathered enough strength to leave your chambers, Gwayne took you out to the gardens. The air was crisp, and the scent of blooming flowers filled your senses. It was a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere of the keep.
As you walked together, Gwayne kept his arm around you, his presence a steady reassurance. You were quiet for a while, lost in your thoughts, but eventually, Gwayne broke the silence.
“Do you remember the first time we walked through these gardens?” he asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.
You looked up at him, nodding slowly. “I do. You tried to impress me with your knowledge of every flower and plant.”
He chuckled softly. “And I failed miserably, didn’t I? You knew more about the flowers than I did.”
“You were charming, though,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I fell in love with you that day.”
Gwayne’s smile widened, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. “And I’ve been falling in love with you every day since.”
As you continued to walk, you felt some of the tension ease from your shoulders. The pain of losing the babe was still there, and you knew it would take time to heal, but with Gwayne by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope.
Later that evening, as you sat by the fire in your chambers, Gwayne brought out a small wooden box. “I have something for you,” he said, his tone soft, almost hesitant.
You looked at him curiously as he handed you the box. When you opened it, you found a delicate necklace inside, the pendant a small, intricately carved locket.
“It belonged to my mother,” Gwayne explained. “She gave it to me before she passed, and I’ve kept it all these years. I was waiting for the right moment to give it to you.”
Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at the beautiful locket, your heart swelling with emotion. “Gwayne, it’s beautiful,” you whispered.
He took the locket from the box and fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so. “I wanted you to have something that reminds you that you’re never alone,” he said, his voice filled with tenderness. “Whenever you feel lost, or when the grief feels too much, just remember that I’m here, and that I’ll always be here.”
You touched the locket, feeling the cool metal beneath your fingers, and nodded. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ll treasure it always.”
Gwayne smiled, as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, a kiss that was filled with the promise of a future together, a future that, despite the loss you had endured, would still be full of love and hope.
In that moment, you knew that with Gwayne by your side, you could face whatever challenges life threw your way. The grief would not disappear overnight, and the road to healing would be long, but you would walk it together, hand in hand, and eventually, you would find peace.
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P.S: i’m sorry my paragraphs look so separated but I have bad eyesight and I can’t read it well if I don’t separate lmao
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topherwrites · 1 month ago
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𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛, 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙
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summary - a saturday morning, and I love you on the tip of both your tongues.
pairing - bob floyd x (gn!)reader
word count - 2.1k
rating - nsfw content, 18+, mdni!
content warnings & tags - no use of (y/n) / fluff / slightly h*rny fluff / bob's love language being acts of service / the peak fantasy of homeownership / bob floyd being the ideal man™ / lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: time for my bi-yearly fic drop, lol! i wrote this in semi-conjunction with this moodboard. (a.k.a i started this months ago.) everyone who said they want to live in it... same. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated!
TOP GUN MASTERLIST / LIBRARY BLOG
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Your boyfriend has disappeared.
Even before your eyes are open and your brain is semi-functioning, you feel the lack of his presence, the sheets next to you devoid of his usual space heater existence. You touch the left side—his side—double checking—hoping, really—that you won’t have to peel yourself out of bed to search for him.
A cascade of orange and pink spills through your curtains, painting your room in soft light, letting you know it has to be before seven. With a groan, you check your clock, confirming your suspicions. The time reads a quarter past six—far too early for you.
Not nearly as agonizing for him, one of those irritating early riser types, but Bob is diligent about letting you know when he’s leaving for his early morning runs, a kiss planted to your temple, and a ‘be back soon’—just a little moment in case you have to leave for work before he gets back.
But it’s Saturday, and you had plans of lazing about in bed until at least eleven, preferably with him. 
Your brow creases as you push up onto your elbows, slowly blinking around your room as if your boyfriend will just appear in front of you, and you won’t have to pull yourself out from under the covers to try to coax him back to bed.
As of late, it’s like he gets struck by a whim, and his body is overcome with the need to check it off a list, unable to rest until he does—changing your oil at ten o’clock at night, fixing the light in your fridge that flickers before he heads off for a run, trying to fix the leaky pipes under your en-suite sink—he did eventually give up on that one and call a plumber. Thank god.
Part of you has just taken it as part of his job and personality—he likes getting up as the sun does, he likes fixing things, and his job is a stressor, you're sure. But it doesn't feel work-related, so part of you is beginning to wonder if it’s you. 
An ugly little thought that you can recognize has no factual basis. He’s never been anything but honest with you, open and vulnerable, even when you’ve guarded yourself.
As a result, you tuck it away, considering that he’s off on another one of his little quests. They’re things that always make you feel cared for and thought about—weeding or checking the pressure on your tires or rearranging his kitchen so you can reach the things you frequently use.
So, as you begin to pressure yourself to leave your cocoon of early morning sleepiness, a quiet metal-against-metal clattering floats down the hall and through the crack in your bedroom door, catching your attention.
Slipping out of bed, you pad down the hall, sleep shirt brushing your thighs. Growing nearer to the sound of the soft noise—clearly being sensitive to try not to wake you—-you catch soft guitar strings and the twang of John Prine and Iris DeMent coming from your grandma’s old record player.
You cringe as your foot touches the cold tile lining the floor and immediately regret not rummaging around for your slippers.
You find Bob there, posted at the counter as he cuts something at a butcher board, only wearing the sweats he went to bed in. He's still warm despite the lack of clothing and the countertop fan blowing at him.
At the arch entry, you stop and watch him for a moment, entranced by the way his broad shoulders and the muscles of his back move with the motion—by the sight of him in your kitchen. Something so distinctly domestic and intimate about it.
Completely focused on his task, he doesn't hear you come up behind him. He slightly jumps under your touch as your hands slip around his middle, his stomach beneath your fingertips.
He makes a short noise of surprise that washes into a gentle greeting, his voice low, “Hey, sweetheart.”
You press your lips to his shoulder blade, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.
You've clearly ruined some sort of surprise, but you can't feel too bad at the sight of his eyes still clouded by sleep and the odd angles his hair sticks up.
Keeping his eyes on the cuts he’s making, Bob briefly twists around to press a kiss to your temple as he mumbles, “Go back to bed.”
You just hum, beginning to press kisses to the freckles that scatter along his shoulders, deepened by the tan he’s obtained from working in the flowerbeds that sit alongside your front door. The beds were slightly tragic before you began dating, some sort of sparse bushes planted there. They were alive at one point, you assume, but lying half dead and bare when you bought the place.
In no time at all, he had the beds torn up and replaced with bright white hydrangeas that now sit in full bloom under your front windows. Pink zinnias, sunny yellow goldenrods, and pale milkweeds—all chosen by him because they attract monarch butterflies during their migration—flank either side of the brown brick pathway. Cheek pressed to his skin; you cast a glance outside just as a small orange and black blur flits by the glass.
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“So… where is it?”
Chewing on the inside of his lip, Bob casts a lost glance around the plant nursery’s vast outdoor gardens—bright pops of color among vast expanses of green, the high afternoon sun beating down on them—the acreage of it is astounding and certainly a workout.
You’re supposed to be picking up some mulch for the beds—but you keep getting sidetracked. Half your fault; you beeline for every slightly pretty plant, balancing it on the cart that’s rapidly becoming overloaded. The wheels digging heavily into the gravel pathways, little trenches left in your wake.
It’s early days with Bob Floyd, but he’s sweet and helpful and easy to get free labor out of—a big plus in your book.
On your first date, when he walked you to your front door, sweet and gentlemanly, you made a quick joke, a callback to your hinge profile. There, you had answered the prompt, I'm looking for…, with, ‘someone to put together my ikea bookshelf. seriously.’
Because, after two unsuccessful attempts to put it together and three months of it languishing in the corner of your living room, you were tired of feeling a pang of guilt every time you piled another book on top of the precarious stack teetering next to your reading chair.
Of course, on the date, you didn't actually expect him to do it. You made the joke as a way to test the waters, to see if he was open to coming inside without fully putting yourself out there that way.
But then he followed you in, sat himself down cross-legged on your living room rug, and got to work. You stood there in the doorway for a moment, warming even further to him. 
You poured a glass of wine for each of you, and watched his hands as he set joints together and tightened screws with a furrow between his brows. And despite his serious focus on the job, he continued asking you questions about your taste in books, your favorite bands growing up, what you liked about San Diego as you sat near—your only real contribution being the wine, simple conversation, and occasionally handing him a screw.
He’d finished near midnight, asked if you wanted help sorting your books, and when you said no, already mildly abashed at the fact that you’d set him to work on your first date, he’d given you a kiss goodnight on your cheek—chaste and unpresuming—and left it at that.
You’d fallen for him a little bit then and there.
Blinking, he stares down at the map once again—same furrow in his brow—turning it in his hands. Not sounding any more sure than he was a second ago, he points slightly westerly of you, “That way. I think.”
It draws a slight laugh from you. You lightly hip-check him, teasing over your shoulder, “Come on, farm boy, you’re supposed to be helping me.”
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The scent of lemon carries inside from the open window over the sink, summer ripening the tree planted in your yard. That’s also when you spy past his shoulder a small stack of the same yellow fruit on the counter. A pancake crackles away on the stove.
Your voice is quiet—reticent to break the seal of this hushed moment—as you ask, “What are you making?”
Hands wandering mindlessly, your touch follows the trail of hair from his belly button, fingers sneaking only just under the waistband of his sweats, loosely hung on his hips. 
He seems to part with the idea of whatever he’s doing being a surprise, clear that you���re not going to accede to his request and tuck yourself back into bed, too awake now to do so.
“Pancakes,” he reveals, continuing to whip, “with lemon ricotta whipped cream.”
“Trying out a new recipe?”
His throaty laugh reverberates into your chest, shaking you. Your smile hikes higher before you even know what he’s laughing about—just enjoying the sound, the melody and the slight grit to it.
“Emphasis on trying,” he says, scooping a bit of the whipped cream onto his finger, offering it to you to taste. “Would you?”
You draw his finger into your mouth. It’s slightly sweet with a burst of tang, the sugar and cream mellowing out the sharper edges of the lemon flavor. A success, you think. As you draw back, you flash your gaze up and find his eyes unabashedly caught on your mouth.
You pull off and without breaking eye contact, breathily tease, “Lech.”
With a slight flush to his ears and cheeks, he laughs and leans in, nose brushing yours as he presses his lips to yours. His mouth slants over yours, insistent, his hand finds its way to cradle your jaw, tilt your head just right. It catches your breath, makes your toes curl against the tile.
You're still not entirely used to this, the sweetness of Bob Floyd. His eyes are soft as he pulls back, his thumbs sweeping along your cheeks. He clicks his tongue, cheekily muttering, “I think it’s good.”
His lips move to your cheek next, mumbling between a kiss there, “You're distracting.”
The gesture, so simple, makes your heart flip.
By this stage of dating you're usually spiraling, finding reasons that it won’t work out and tallying up slights so when the expected happens, you're not blindsided. Like it's a game you’ll win; perpetually preparing yourself for heartbreak. 
And it’s often been easy, dating men who were noncommittal or uninterested or flippant with affection made it so. They were easy to write off— jettison them from your life and think, onto the next. 
But everything has changed with him. There’s an ease to the intimacy, a frankness to him that makes that defense mechanism very difficult to muster. You're… settled.
And it should scare you, the way your heart is fully on the line, but then you catch sight of one of his dogeared-to-hell paperbacks in the living room or the little date night notes he leaves scribbled on the calendar that hangs next to the fridge or his mismatched colorful socks mixed in with your laundry and it doesn't. As simple as that.
You haven’t said the L word yet. But it’s there, dancing on the tip of your tongue every time you look at him.
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Bob is near certain that this is love.
No, he supposes, he is certain. He’s mulled this particular topic over too much in his mind not to be.
It's love—the big kind. He’s just not certain when he should let you in on that fact. Release it out to you and see if it comes back returned.
In the past five months he’s undertaken a million little projects to keep his hands, mouth, and mind busy, working out all that excess energy. All he’s doing is kicking the can down the road, trying to find “the right time”. 
He's gotten close more than once, yet every time it catches in the back of his throat, his tongue an uneasy ally in the venture. The words, three simple ones, are left as something uncomfortable to swallow down at each abandoned attempt.
And yet, virtually all that discomfort is eased by the way you say his name, catching his attention when they nearly slip, nearly an endearment all on its own. 
His call sign being his name means that Bob hears it alot, from a considerable amount of mouths. Shouted, whispered, whooped. In a variance of forms, he's heard it. But it's never sounded so important, so weighty, then it does as it falls from your lips. Like you're speaking a dialect only the two of you hold knowledge of, his name equivalent to the word in the forefront of his mind.
"Bob."
He hums, certain that his face gives him away; 'Whipped' as Mickey called it or 'in love' as his mother did the first time you met.
This is the sort of thing that his parents have, the ease, the humor, the affection. It permeates every space of his life, the knowledge that you're here, with him, choosing each other easily.
Eight letters.
I love you.
He lets temptation run wild, hands glancing down your back and tugging you right into him. He takes a moment just to look at you, your bright eyes, and the sweet shape of your lips as you smile up at him. Your hands slide around his neck, gently teasing the hair at the nape of his neck, his stomach swooping at the feeling.
Three syllables.
I love you.
He lets them swirl in his head, settle in the back of his throat as he prepares his tongue.
Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and he opens his mouth, readying himself, just as your lips part, and twice at once, I love you, becomes tangible reality.
Like a held breath released, a smile, broad and uncontrollable, spreads over his face, mirrored on yours as everything comes into view.
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Just as Bob leans in to brush his lips against yours, higher than he’s ever felt, the smell of rapidly burning batter hits his nose. 
"Oh, shoot."
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a/n: thank you for reading!
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