#finally have enough energy to draw a little again :)

[theartofdreaming1]

Finally managed to finish another 50s LauraMax drawing, yay!

This came about because 1) I'm always in the mood for some 50s LauraMax and had been itching to draw some more of them and 2) I saw this cute couple from Arthur Sarnoff's painting "The Church Picnic" and they just screamed Laura + Max, I mean look at them:

So here we are :)

[writerpeach]

Ambrosial: Part Two

IVE Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

9.7k words

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five_1]

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Read on AO3

After leaving Yujin’s bedroom in complete disarray, the shower comes next. Not that it’s going to do anything to keep you clean or quell any other urges. 

Normally, you'd keep your fingers buried inside Wonyoung until the hot water runs out, kissing all over that pretty neck. And certainly, you do that—but you spend a little more time appreciating her perfect body under the running water, with a hand between her legs, getting her off more times than she can handle. 

Despite that, the shower ends up rather quick, with only enough time to leave her a shaking, whimpering mess from all the merciless overstimulation given, barely able to stay upright on her own two legs when you finish. Once you’re sufficiently refreshed and had enough fun, you head to the kitchen, completely forgetting the mess left on Yujin's sheets, to grab something to replenish the energy you've used up. 

The two of you share a bowl of strawberries atop the kitchen island countertop, not bothering to put any clothes back on—because you know where they’ll end right up again. 

Wonyoung feeds you a berry, one after the other, before she sucks all the juices off the next one, wanting to demonstrate what she really wishes she was doing to some part of you right now. You can't say you're surprised—because she’ll take every opportunity to turn something innocent into something completely salacious.

Not before long, all the strawberries vanish, leaving you with a lingering hunger for something else. So while you've got Wonyoung here, naked as could be, looking like an absolute meal, you guide her down on the counter, flat on her back, planting kisses all over her slender, bare body.

You’re met with a plethora of gasps and whimpers while you explore her, wet tongue going all over those sensitive nipples until they're left stiff and swollen, chest heaving with every breath. A slight bite here or there, then your kisses trail further down, turning into long licks all over her flat tummy, hungry little swipes to draw out the cutest little moans from her. 

“See? Daddy can’t ever get enough of me,” Wonyoung says through her cute gasps, but you don’t give her any acknowledgment, despite how she's got a point. More or less, she’s gotten all of your attention, while you haven’t had so much as a thought about Yujin in these past few hours.

“It’s not my fault you’re so fucking delicious, princess.” 

Wonyoung's long fingers rake through your hair while you get your mouth back on her perky tits, slurping harder, drinking in her reactions—this lovely, sultry noise that leaves her throat when your teeth graze a little too hard around her sensitive nub. 

And you’re nowhere close to being done tasting her, having not gone between her milky thighs yet, knowing the delicious nectar you’ll find there is incomparable to anything else. 

She’s so desperate for your tongue to move there, right where she really needs it, where your fingers haven't ceased their playful touches on her thighs. But instead, you keep this buffet going, letting your mouth wander with no plans to neglect any part of her. 

Peppering more kisses down the slope of her neck, your lips make their way along her collarbone, across the sleek surface of her bare shoulders. After a moment to relish her reactions, you lift her slender arms up over her head, so you can lick all over her armpits, tasting that distinct, delicious flavor you crave. 

Wonyoung is already squirming with each lick, loving the extra attention as she keeps her arms up for you while you indulge in this favorite part of her body. It has you utterly addicted, when your tongue slides all over, wet and messy, while those cute little sounds leave her lips that she tries to suppress, leaving no doubt she loves this as much as you do. 

“Princess—“ you finally groan out when you come up from burying your tongue in those luscious, creamy pits, before diving back in with an insatiable hunger to appreciate her body more and more. You won’t stop until you’ve licked this area absolutely glistening from your slobbery tongue, having tasted the skin there so thoroughly.

“Love the way you taste, everywhere, so goddamn delicious. Don’t wanna stop.” You’re so completely lost in devouring Wonyoung that you've lost all track of time, completely unaware of anything else when you suddenly hear another voice that isn't hers.

"Having fun, daddy?"

Not bothering to look up, you know it's Yujin standing there, with a look of amusement all over her features, while she watches you lick away without breaking your focus.

"Daddy got a little hungry," Wonyoung plainly states in place of you being too preoccupied to interrupt your meal. Despite a third body in the room, you don't cease in licking up this girl’s tight body, determined not to leave a single inch neglected.

"I can see that." Yujin chuckles, opening the fridge to grab something to drink, showing no real surprise seeing her two roommates going at it with absolutely no consideration for where they are. "What about you, princess? Had anything to eat yet?"

“Strawberries and daddy's big cock—that's all I've had," Wonyoung says so openly, prompting another boisterous laugh. Yujin joins you two at the counter, doing her best to not distract from your lustful licking and worshiping of her best friend's body.

You haven't even managed to make eye contact with Yujin yet either, too entranced in devouring Wonyoung laid out like a full course meal for your consumption, and that’s all before you even make it to the real delicacy between her legs.

"Sorry we made a mess on your sheets," you say once you speak up, lifting your tongue away from all this hot, flushed skin for only a moment, eager to head towards your next destination.

"Did you now?" Yujin asks, not even looking a little bit mad, every bit proud and content that you’ve used her bed for your escapades. Without any response, you decide to skip straight to the point, hopping off the counter and guiding Wonyoung closer by her milky thighs until her bare ass barely hangs off the edge of the counter. Now that she's all splayed out with her legs draped over both your shoulders, you've reached the best part—this divine treat ready for you to dive right fucking in. 

"As long as our princess got the rough fucking she deserves from daddy, that's all that matters." 

Yujin's approval has Wonyoung beaming at her until that smile fades quickly as your mouth travels where it belongs—right between those spread thighs. There's no better view than this, no sweeter taste while your tongue licks up her slit from end to end to flood your ravenous mouth. 

Having Yujin a few inches away, keeping a close eye, amused by the show, only encourages you to give your all, to work Wonyoung into an overwhelmed mess as fast as humanly possible.

"Looks like she really loves daddy’s tongue, huh?" Yujin asks while sipping her drink, more than pleased at watching you work between Wonyoung’s messy thighs. 

Neither of you offer anything in response, your mouth too occupied, Wonyoung obviously well out of commission. The longer you lick, the louder she gets, turning into a mewling mess even before you wrap your lips around her swollen little clit and start to suck relentlessly, getting lost in her blissful eye contact the entire time. 

Her fingers desperately clutch onto the edges of this hard counter, hips so eager to buck against your face. Wonyoung can’t begin to muffle her high pitched, needy moans falling from her lips, completely brazen with bliss as you eat her succulent cunt out. 

"Oh god, daddy, fuck, right there," she cries out so prettily, begging for more, even when you have your face buried between her trembling thighs, slurping away without any respite. "Please, just like that, don't stop—"

Yujin, she just sits there with a proud look on her face, savoring how Wonyoung turns into a puddle in no time at all, her presence doubling your efforts. A firm hand rests on her toned stomach to keep her pinned to the counter, not giving an ounce of control, only leaving her defenseless against the pleasure from your greedy mouth. 

"Daddy's so good at this, isn't he? Licking that wet little cunt, getting his lips all over your clit,” Yujin says, not allowing her eyes to leave this scene for even a second, so enthralled with how desperate Wonyoung looks. “Gonna cum on his cute face soon, aren’t you?”

Wonyoung frantically nods as you keep her needy clit between your lips, suckling so harshly in response to draw every bit of ecstasy you can, knowing exactly what she needs to get close to that much desired edge. "Did our princess make daddy cum today?" 

It takes a few moments before Wonyoung can satiate Yujin’s curiosity, grabbing a handful of your hair to steady herself from all those overwhelming sensations that make her toes curl. 

"T-twice." One little word has her struggling to say it, nearly at the edge of losing complete control. The moans that spill out from her lips are almost as endless as the slick that drips down your chin, too addicted to this taste that you simply can’t get enough of. "Daddy came once down my throat, then again in my pussy while I was all tied up."

"Tied up?" Yujin repeats, raising an eyebrow with amusement in her tone as she looks in your direction. “Without me?”

"We found your little box. Under the bed."

Yujin smiles to herself, with no intentions to deny she owns anything like that. "Oh that? I was gonna use that on daddy, but it looks like you beat me to it…"

Wonyoung ignores every part of the conversation, arching her back off the table as she grinds her wet cunt right against your face, rocking her hips with a harsh tug of your hair. You've got her on the brink of release, and you're not going to stop now. “I'll never get tired of eating this delicious cunt until you cum all over my face, princess."

With each tug to your hair, Wonyoung draws closer and closer to the edge, until her thighs shake around your head. You’re trapped there without a way to escape—not that you'd want that when her juices run into your hungry mouth and down your chin, lapping up as much as she spills. 

Meanwhile, Yujin's tired of being a spectator and wants to join for these final moments, leaning over the counter to play with Wonyoung's hard nipples, rolling and pinching them while the poor girl can't handle the excess bliss. 

“So close, aren’t you, princess? Do you wanna cum for us?" Yujin purrs as she leans down a little lower to whisper in Wonyoung’s ear, knowing she can't endure much longer. Having nowhere to go with her legs over your shoulders, and now hands working on her heaving chest, tweaking the sensitive, perky buds—there's only one outcome left.

Wonyoung can only let out a sob of pleasure, her clit throbbing right up against your relentless mouth, and then when you shove two fingers deep within the velvety walls of her wet pussy—she simply shatters. 

A deep cry and Wonyoung arches her back off the counter, body surrendering to bliss, shaking through a full orgasm, as Yujin keeps biting on her lobe, fingers twisting those hardened nubs to make her cum as long and as hard as possible.

Nothing could keep you from licking up all this delicious nectar that keeps gushing into your open mouth, the pretty sight of Wonyoung trembling, squirming, while you never relent, letting her ride her orgasm right on your tongue.

This double team of stimulation renders Wonyoung incapable of any coherent thoughts, delirious in nature as you keep your lips sealed around her clit, fingers pumping away in her wet heat. The faster you suck, the harder she sobs, and the messier you get, mouth slick with her delectable arousal. Her long legs still dangle lifelessly over your shoulders as she pushes at your face when it becomes all too much, the little whines becoming more pitiful by the second. 

So, finally, you decide to let up, looking all proud between her legs, that she weakly drapes over the countertop, still shaking as her heavy breathing fills the room. 

"That looked like it felt good," Yujin says after finally prying her own eyes away from Wonyoung to look over towards you while she recovers, running her fingers through your messy locks until her body can remember what normal breathing feels like. The corner of her mouth curls up when she notices the mess all over your face, giggling to herself.

"Fuck, so, so good, daddy always knows how to make me cum so hard…" Wonyoung’s voice struggles not to fade completely as she sits back up, staring down at you as you give her sensitive cunt a few final licks to help ease her down.

"You deserve it, princess," you reply, kissing the inside of her thighs softly. Yujin keeps up her playful touches while Wonyoung cools down, keeping her fingers dancing over those stiff, perky nipples, knowing just how sensitive they must be. Then her lips trail more kisses over the side of her face, letting that orgasm linger before she leans back to where her mouth meets yours, sharing that delicious sweetness.

"Hate to cut this short, but I have studying to get back to," Yujin says when your lips break apart. "I’ll have to miss daddy wrecking this pretty little cunt...” 

There’s genuine disappointment in her voice, but unlike Wonyoung, priorities exist on Yujin's end that she keeps at the very top, no matter how often she misses times like these. 

So with a quick kiss to your lips and then Wonyoung, Yujin makes her way to leave the two of you alone in the kitchen, heading up the stairwell off to her room, disappearing from sight. 

✦ ✦

Following Yujin’s departure, you've somehow regained some semblance of normalcy, managing to put clothes back on after grabbing something to eat that isn't between Wonyoung's legs.

"So, daddy—" she starts out, scrolling mindlessly through her phone as she kicks her feet up on your lap, making no effort to hide the mischievous grin that curls onto her lips. Surrounded by silence again, it's a challenge for Wonyoung to sit still with all this freedom. Her eyes glance right at you, but you already know what’s at the end of that sentence. 

"No," you answer firmly, despite the lack of anything else leaving that mouth. "We shouldn't bother Yujin."

"Who said anything about bothering her? I'll be quiet."

"You? Quiet? Did you forget the library incident already?" 

"That wasn't my fault," Wonyoung scoffs, crossing her arms and looking rather offended that you bring that up first thing, shifting the blame so naturally. "You know I can't help how I sound when you've got your cock buried in me." 

"Then why did you pick the library, of all places?" 

"It was either that or the cramped bathroom stalls again and—besides, those shelves were full of dust and cobwebs. How was I supposed to know that someone needed a book on microeconomics at the exact moment you were balls deep in me?"

“Yeah, who would’ve thought someone needed a book at a library? How dare they.” 

"Exactly," Wonyoung says, completely disregarding your clear sarcasm, still believing she's innocent in the matter. "I don’t even think that’s a real subject.”

Nobody can make you sigh as heavily as Wonyoung can. 

You’re not going to try (again) to convince her why a library is off-limits, and no matter how stubborn she can get, or how cute and charming she can be, you're putting your foot down for this. There’s hardly anything that can hide the kinds of explicit sounds she’ll make (outside of soundproofing the entire bedroom) when you've got her folded up in half, taking every inch of your cock deep in her guts.

So if not the apartment, and definitely not the library, where else can you satisfy the insatiable, these desires Wonyoung has for you to plow into her without interruptions? 

Sure, you have Wonyoung's repertoire of fancy cars at your disposal, but if you're being honest, there's little space in the backseat to really enjoy yourself, and the sun hasn't even gone down yet. It’ll be far too easy for anyone out and about to catch you in the act. The weather is still rather chilly to be outside by the pool, and you’re not about to check into a hotel just to rail this needy brat, so that doesn’t leave very many options. 

Keeping your eyes locked on Wonyoung, you’re determined to not give into her demands—because those eyes say what she’s holding back. Surprisingly, you get a reaction you’re not expecting instead of more complaints, followed by a cute little smile out of nowhere. “Fine. I’ve got the perfect place we can go then.” 

You raise an eyebrow with every level of suspicion imaginable. 

With no promise to behave herself and a smirk she can't keep off her lips, Wonyoung drags you right out of the apartment and into her car in a heartbeat, handing you the keys. Because of course, you’re the one going to drive, unsurprised at her need to be passenger princess. 

A short drive and she directs you into an empty parking lot, as you let her pink Ferrari come to a halt. 

"Alright, get out," she says, slipping out of the passenger's seat, which leaves you there to simmer in curiosity and confusion. You slide out of the driver’s seat, following right behind as you trail after Wonyoung like a lost puppy. Off in the distance, you can see that you’re still on campus grounds, but exactly where? There’s no telling. 

"Where the hell are we?" Standing outside in the barren parking lot, you survey the area—it looks empty and abandoned, which makes her pink sports car look even more out of place. 

"You said no library, so this is the next best thing," she answers, still not willing to tell you anything. "Just follow me.”

It’s not like you have much choice. Wonyoung doesn't bother to elaborate or explain anything while you tag along close behind, heels clacking on the asphalt as she leads you into an unfamiliar building. 

“Don't you trust me?"

“Not in the slightest."

That doesn’t stop you from staying a step behind as Wonyoung saunters through the hallways, walking so confidently like she’s done this route a hundred times in a building you didn’t even know existed. Though it gives you plenty of time to admire her from behind, those long legs that steal your attention with every step, and the rhythm of her hips so mesmerizing. 

The entire floor seems completely vacant when you head down another hallway, and Wonyoung navigates with precision—past an array of classrooms, to the very end, until the two of you reach a set of elevators.

"Why do you even know about this place?"

"Perks of knowing the right people, daddy," Wonyoung answers with a sly little grin as a set of elevator doors slide open with a ding. "Although there's nobody here—so you could just fuck me in the elevator to save some time, couldn't you?"

You don’t answer her. At best, she doesn’t deserve one. That option is far too easy and unsatisfying, especially since you’ve been brought through this maze of hallways that leads up to—you’re not even sure. 

With the press of a button, the doors shut once you step inside and this metal box begins to climb, groaning like it hasn't been used in months. It’s a slow ascent, leaving you alone with your thoughts of what exactly Wonyoung’s agenda is while she stands beside you, too close, arms folded in this little black dress that you have to fight not to stare at.

By the time the elevator reaches its stop, the doors part to another empty floor that’s more of the same. 

"Come on. This way."

You continue to let Wonyoung lead you through, taking note of department names posted across each room's entrance, most all with a layer of dust over them. The entire floor is desolate, and you’re surprised the lights are even on, given how it must stay unused. Eventually, you stop questioning it, because your entire purpose here is to get out of the apartment, to give Yujin the space needed to focus on her studies, so you can focus on how good Wonyoung is going to look once she’s out of that stunning black dress. 

All of this leads to a heavy-looking door, unmarked aside from a singular letter across the door in black—'A'. Wonyoung hesitates in opening it, as if wanting you to do the honors instead, which you oblige, only to find out the door handle won't budge an inch, locked tight.

"It's locked," you say, frustration creeping up in your tone as you wonder if this whole journey has been for naught. 

“Is it?” There's a glimmer of deviousness in her voice that doesn’t phase her one bit, digging through her purse before fishing out a white plastic card. "That's the point." 

With that, she swipes the card, and instantly the red light illuminates the scanner beside the doorknob, changing to green. Another firm turn, and she twists the door knob, now able to push it open as the both of you head right in.

"You just have a key to this room?" you ask, growing increasingly more and more confused. "Did you steal it?"

"Of course not," Wonyoung answers with a scoff as she flicks the nearby switch on, lighting up the room as a huge row of windows comes into view, revealing what looks to be a rather spacious conference room, with a large wooden table in the center. While this building appears to be rather useless, these massive windows offer one of the best views of campus. 

Aside from that, nothing of note exists, enough chairs for at least a dozen people, yet no signs of a single person occupying one recently. 

"Like I said, perks of knowing the right people," Wonyoung says, seemingly satisfied to leave it at that. "Nobody even knows this room exists. They were supposed to rebuild this building a year ago, but that never happened… so it's a nice, big empty room for daddy to rail me in." 

"How do you even know about all this?" 

"Do you ever stop asking questions?" Wonyoung huffs, feeling the mood start to fade as her patience wears thin. "You wanted to leave Yujinnie alone, didn't you? All you need to worry about is fucking me until I can't walk." 

"So romantic," you respond with all the sarcasm you can muster as Wonyoung heads over towards the table, climbing on top and crossing her legs so you can get a good view of how this dress hugs her deadly figure in all the right places. “The princess is so full of surprises today.” 

"Less talking and more shoving your dick in me, please."

Wonyoung is already slipping a finger under one strap, sliding it off her shoulders so fluidly. And the same with the other, until the dress is barely holding on. You find yourself just watching, knowing it'll never get any easier to tear your eyes off that sinful body that's presented just for you to admire as she slides the fabric down further. 

"What makes you think I'm going to fuck you so easily, princess?"

One quick tug and the dress slips right off her body with no assistance, answering the question with ease. The sight of her left exposed has your mouth going dry in the snap of a second, her black dress a heap at the floor between her legs. Underneath is a pair of black panties but no bra, wearing nothing to cover up her perky tits, nipples already hardening at the touch of cool air. 

Her fingertips graze her chest, lowering until they reach the waistband of her panties, and she peels them off in one swift motion, leaving her standing in nothing but black heels that accentuate those ridiculously long legs. Now completely nude, Wonyoung spreads her legs, offering the sight of her freshly shaven cunt that already glistens in the light, wet and swollen from her desperate hunger for your cock. “Does daddy ever need a reason to fuck me senseless?” 

Without looking away for a second, Wonyoung slips her fingers right between her legs to tease herself before holding them up, letting her arousal speak for itself. No further convincing is needed, and with a few steps forward, those fingers meet your lips, slipping straight into your mouth. 

A whimper falls when you wrap your lips around those digits to clean them off, but they leave again as soon as they arrive, so fast, while Wonyoung wastes no time dropping to her knees with a single intent in mind.

Those fingers hastily move to unbuckle your belt, tugging your pants right to the ground so that nothing remains on your lower half. All the attention immediately goes straight to your stiff, throbbing shaft that Wonyoung practically drools at, stroking up and down at a tauntingly slow pace. 

"Rock fucking hard, just how I like it, daddy," Wonyoung breathes in satisfaction. Her hand gives you one more squeeze as a test, noting the familiar throb against her palm.

"Just shut up and start sucking, princess."

With zero reluctance, those soft, plump lips wrap around your cockhead, easing you into the pleasure. 

"But wouldn't daddy like it better if—"

And then you thrust hard and without warning, your length shoved far deeper than Wonyoung anticipates, because that's the only way you're going to shut her up. That makes her pretty mouth fall open, taking the entirety of your length in the back of her throat, so deep that her lips rest against your base with ease.

“That’s much better,” you say, as you hold the poor thing right there, unbuttoning your shirt while she stays like that, gurgling on your shaft until you toss it aside, leaving you just as naked as her. 

Another thrust follows right after, and there's no remorse as you fuck her face, indulging in the way her eyes immediately widen, struggling to take every inch of that throbbing cock while it plunges past those glossy lips. 

Wonyoung looks right at home, a messy bobbing of her head to help, her fingertips clinging onto the back of your thighs to pull you in closer. This is right where you need her, on her knees, throat stuffed, with your hands gripping fistfuls of dark hair tightly, while those beautiful, watery eyes stare right up when you take control. 

“Fuck, this bratty fucking mouth—your lips feel so fucking amazing around my cock," you growl, and there’s not much else that needs to be said when this bliss runs through your body, when her tongue eagerly works along your length, slobbering over every single inch in the warm depths of her throat. 

Wonyoung fights the urge to gag with her head firmly cradled between both of your hands, and her jaw wide open. There isn’t anything more beautiful about this sight, when her lips get covered in drool, tears running down her cheeks, and those hungry slurps mixed into her breaths while you use that pretty mouth.

"I think I like this place now," you say, cock lodged all the way down Wonyoung's tight throat, holding her right where you want her, which earns a few heavy, muffled coughs. Not even realizing you've picked up the pace, you get a little rougher in the process, pulling that hair a bit more than usual. Your cock drips with spit every time her stretched lips part, drool dripping all the way down her chin and naked body.

You can’t be gentle whatsoever when she looks so needy on her knees, never once hesitating to make sure Wonyoung knows exactly who is in control here. Her nose buries into your stomach every time your length slides back in, and she takes every last inch like a champ, proving she wants nothing more but to keep her tight, wet mouth stuffed with cock. 

Because that messy mouth never pulls away, no signs of wanting to tap out anytime soon, that heavenly little mouth so willing and eager to be a toy all for your pleasure. All Wonyoung can do is hold your thighs tight as you fuck her face mercilessly, and you can never hold back your hips from bucking right in a harsh, relentless rhythm. 

Seeing such a wrecked mess is everything you want, all the encouragement needed—this pretty thing all ruined, nothing like her usual prim and proper demeanor. 

As the tears start to well up in her eyes now, you’re really taking advantage of her obedience, shoving yourself deep into the back of her throat without faltering, so you can do a number on that perfectly applied makeup. Despite the continuous onslaught in her throat, Wonyoung stares up with such devotion, hardly able to breathe.

The look in her eyes says it all—getting off on being a complete slobbering mess that takes your dick so well, this gorgeous girl kneeling beneath you couldn’t be happier. 

When you eventually stop to take in the masterpiece you’ve created, Wonyoung leans back and lets out an immediate whine, gasping for air while your shaft, all covered in spit, rests on her face. Her mascara trails down those reddened cheeks, streaks of saliva all over her chin, lips swollen from sucking so hard on your thick shaft. “Please—please keep fucking my throat, daddy.” 

Wonyoung sounds so pathetic when she speaks, when drool spills out of her lips the moment they leave your cock. She’ll have to wait until later, because that’s all she’s getting now—you’re not going to end the fun without bending that body over the table. "Don't get greedy." 

As if she can do anything but that, worshiping your cock by planting these ravenous little kisses on the underside of your length to get more throbs from you, savoring the weight and taste like she can’t go a second without it. "Can't help it, daddy. Not when it tastes so good, just need it back in my mouth, need to choke more on it, please—“

“No, princess. This is going in your pretty little cunt now. Get up.” 

A hasty rise, and Wonyoung heads to the edge of the conference table, turning around to peer out at the campus for the briefest moment—lost in lust with only thoughts of your cock entering her. "Y-yes, daddy. You better cum in me. I’ve earned it.” 

"Have you now? Because I don’t think you’ve earned a damn thing yet.” Before she has a chance to answer, you smack her tight ass hard, and she yelps in response, the soft flesh reddening immediately at the harsh sting. 

"I’ve earned for daddy to fuck me like a toy, haven’t I? And to be a good little cum dump?” 

You don’t even dignify her comment with a response, slapping her other cheek twice as hard. Wonyoung bends down to remove her heels, only for her wrist to be caught at the last second, getting the message loud and clear. "Leave those on, princess. Want you in those fucking heels while I ruin you."

“Whatever daddy wants...” With her palms flat, Wonyoung braces herself on the table, legs spread in anticipation. There's a certain charm and elegance about her wearing nothing but those sexy heels as she takes her position, offering up that glistening pussy while she awaits your cock. 

"Such a pretty pussy, already so dripping wet like the slut that you are," you say, sliding right up to that backside so that your shaft can line up right between those cheeks. "Do you want me to be rough with you, princess? Do you want me to pound this greedy fucking cunt and breed you?” 

"Always," she says, an immediate answer despite her voice wavering. “Daddy can always be rough with me. Use me however you want.” 

An offer like that can’t go to waste. Spending a moment to admire the beauty of this petite goddess, you push down on her bare back to bend her further over, ass sticking up in the air while you tease her warm entrance with the tip of your cock. 

"Should make you beg for this dick. Made me come all the way up here just so nobody else can hear you scream when I rail you, huh?” You decide not to, because when you’ve got Wonyoung bent over so deliciously, eagerly waiting for your cock to stretch her all out, the view of her inviting cunt is far too irresistible. 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to get us away from Yujinnie. I would have been perfectly happy taking that dick in the kitchen or anywhere else. Now hurry up and—“

Before Wonyoung finishes, you silence her with a harsh snap of your hips, sinking deep inside in one powerful thrust. The heat from her cunt hits all at once, as does the grip of those velvety walls when you open her up so wide from the start. She's so fucking wet that you slide in to the hilt with ease, echoing her moans when you're bottoming out within seconds.

"Oh god, that's so fucking good," Wonyoung cries out, biting on her bottom lip when you start to pound right into her slick depths, again and again, and you can't believe how impossibly tight she is despite all this. "Love it when daddy splits me open with his thick fucking cock.” 

You hardly have a moment to savor this tightness as your hands settle on Wonyoung's hips, squeezing with so much force that it makes her walls clench unbelievably so all around your entire length. She whines so prettily for you when her pussy swallows the entirety of your cock in these unforgiving thrusts, rocking her slender body forward against the table every time you drill into her warm, needy cunt. 

"Fucking your throat was just what I needed, princess, getting me all nice and warmed up," you say, gaze fixed solely on how those buttcheeks look every single time they collide with you. Wonyoung takes it all in stride, every inch filling her up with ease as her soaked cunt adjusts so well to your length. Her heels clack to match the rhythm of your hips, accentuating those absurdly long and slender legs that can barely touch the floor when she's bent over like this.

"God, your cock is so good, so big inside me, daddy," she whimpers, and your hips don't cease for a moment, pulling her tight body into every motion of your hips. “Aren’t you glad I brought you here? So I can be as loud as I want while I’m creaming all over your cock?”

You’re too busy indulging in her intoxicating heat to care, offering nothing but the deepest of thrusts that hit right in the gut, fingers digging into her supple skin. Wonyoung, she’s made to take it just like this, the most perfect fit for your cock. 

“Stop talking and take this cock, princess,” you say, fucking your cock into her warm hole all rough and careless like she’s desperate for. Wonyoung’s going to do only one of those things, not afraid to let out every frantic moan and breathless gasp, surrendering completely to you and the pistoning of your hips that are unstoppable at this point.

There's nothing but an echo bouncing through this empty room, the filthy sounds of bare flesh clashing together as you drive in over and over, buried so deep into Wonyoung’s perfect pussy that’s somehow gets even wetter around you from getting railed just like she wants. 

“Fuck, can’t get enough of your tight pussy, princess,” you groan out, slamming so roughly as you relish the sight of her back arching, feeling the weight of your body all over hers. "You feel so so good, you're just dying to be filled up again, aren't you?"

"Y-yes, daddy," she replies, voice quivering while struggling to speak in the midst of her cunt being pummeled against the table. "Daddy can dump as many loads as he wants, wanna be so fucking full with your hot cum—"

“Then maybe I should be fucking you against the window—let everyone see you all naked and exposed, watching me destroy this perfect little pussy until I breed you so deep and full." 

That makes Wonyoung tighten up so harshly, because even though you're so many floors up, she can't deny the thought of being watched by absolute strangers as she's pounded against the glass until she's screaming—

While her imagination wanders, you let go of her hips for now, leaning forward to seize her forearms instead, pinning them behind her back as you keep plowing her into the table. Wonyoung clenches more at that, now that she’s so utterly helpless to do anything but take the brunt of aggressive thrusts as your pace only quickens, even more relentless with a bruising grip on her delicate wrists.

“Shit, oh fuck, daddy, just like that, pound my little pussy just like that!” 

Nothing could ever stop you from doing exactly that. Every fresh thrust accentuates the loud clap of your hips against her pale cheeks, the room filled by the sinful symphony of her loud moans that escapes so shamelessly. “So desperate for this fucking cock, you’ll do anything to get your slutty pussy wrecked by this, won’t you?"

Wonyoung just nods vigorously, as much as she can with you in control of her limbs, her forearms pressed right behind her, all bound in your grasp so you can keep her body firmly in place. You've got her cunt all stretched out, a hot, slick warmth to impale your throbbing shaft into, and you know she can feel all of you as you thrust and thrust without holding back a single time. “Daddy—fuck, so fucking deep in me, oh my god, use that pussy, use me to cum so deep and full—“ 

Those stiletto heels don't do her any favors as they clack rapidly against the ground, even lifting up at one point as she succumbs to pleasure, her entire body driven forward by your ferocity and strength.

"Oh my god, oh my fucking god," she gasps, borderline screaming with every snap of your hips, those wide open legs a blur of motion every time you bury inside. Wonyoung keeps you so snug inside her, refusing to let go while you drill her mercilessly, a series of breathless little gasps with each different thrust that drives her petite frame forward every time you hit balls deep.

“So, fucking, good,” you groan, punctuating each word with your hips. The resounding smack of hot flesh through this vacant conference room sounds every bit filthy the more you continue. Through all the moans, those drenched pussy lips cling to your cock whenever you ram back in, making it nearly impossible to hold back—so fucking tight and perfect, your shaft getting squeezed when it fills her all the way, never an inch remaining outside her. 

And she loves every single moment of it. 

“Daddy—“ It’s the only word on repeat falling from Wonyoung's mouth, a chorus of pathetic little whines, too gone to speak a coherent sentence. Her body jolts forward every time you plunge in deep, dripping sweat, at the absolute mercy of whenever your shaft hits at the perfect angle, shedding away whatever decency she has left. "Your huge cock is gonna make me cum if you keep fucking me this hard."

"That's the point, princess," you say, keeping this tight grip on her wrists to plow away, using her sweaty body how you see fit. Though you’re rapidly testing your own limitations, unsure how much longer you can keep up the current pace, Wonyoung is struggling to hold on, pussy spasming wildly through this onslaught of punishing pleasure. "But how many times can I do this? How many times can I make you cum on my cock?”

Wonyoung offers no clear reply other than desperate moans, shuddering in her bound position, so desperate to regain some control to impale herself right back on your length. But you keep her right here for as long as you need, a nice toy to pound into, this perfect tightness wrapped around your cock never ever enough. 

“Can't hear you. Better speak up, brat," you growl and loosen your grasp on Wonyoung’s slender arms, kneading two handfuls of her pert ass, digging your fingertips into the supple flesh. 

It’s rather animalistic, the way you watch her body bent over, so helplessly accepting your ruthless strokes. But now, she has the freedom to finally push herself back against your length, making sure her cunt swallows up every single inch. You don’t let up for a single moment, fucking Wonyoung so harshly against the table, both hands sinking into her asscheeks that jiggle each time you thrust, with only the tips of her black heels meeting the carpet floor. 

“Asked you a fucking question, princess. How many times does daddy’s little slut want to cum on my cock? Two? Three? Or have I fucked you so hard you've forgotten how to count?" 

“D-dunno, daddy, as many as you want me to,” Wonyoung stammers out, and you know she’ll greedily take as many orgasms as she can handle. Yet right now, all she can think about are these rapid-fire thrusts that get her closer to the edge, meeting your hips to speed this all up. “Feels so fucking good when you’re this rough—gonna fucking cum, gonna cum on that thick cock, oh my fucking god—“

Those heels finally slip right off her feet, and all this spiraling bliss has her toes curling on the ground while she braces for the inevitable. Right on cue, Wonyoung hits the tipping point, and her pussy convulses with absolute need around your throbbing length. Her voice echoes out daddy like a chant, those messy warm walls squeezing the life out of your shaft, all while these uncontainable trembles persist. 

She’s gasping, moaning, aching for more while you ram into her soaking heat at a dizzying rate, a new rush of wetness that drowns your cock and threatens to push you out of her.

The pleasure rips Wonyoung to shreds, and you fuck her through every intense moment, hips smacking so fast and rough against her tight little ass to savor the ripples that you help create. She rides this blissful high, wave after wave, gushing all over you until a pool of arousal drips down her thighs, staining everywhere it falls. 

“D-daddy—“ Wonyoung just keeps shaking beneath you, cumming on your cock again and again, her erratic sobs filling your ears. You love how overwhelmed she gets, when she falls apart, reduced to such a mess of heavy panting and those parted lips that struggle to catch a breath. Every inch of that porcelain skin glistens with sweat, strands of dark hair clinging to her pretty face, eyes half lidded as they try their best to meet yours.

"So good, daddy fucks me so damn good…” Wonyoung murmurs, still shaking after a release that hits like a truck, hardly able to let out anything but exhausted sobs and ragged breaths. 

Now that she’s coming down, you slow the pace back to something much more manageable, something less taxing on your body. Because you’re not done with her yet. Words can’t even describe the state you’ve left her in, a complete fucked out mess, legs barely holding up her weight through the aftershocks of climaxing so hard on your cock, and there’s no part of her tired frame that isn’t still spasming.

Letting Wonyoung collect herself, you run a hand down her spine, fingertips slipping through a layer of perspiration that shines against her pale skin, and that's before you look down between her legs. You really hope her claim that nobody uses this room—or this entire building holds weight—because this room is going to be in shambles when you’re both done. 

Only when she's gotten the most out of her overwhelming ecstasy, do you pull out for good, giving one more harsh thrust for good measure, still holding those cheeks in your grasp as a tired whine slips past her lips when left suddenly empty.

But Wonyoung doesn’t have time for her body to recover, barely catching her breath while turning back around to face you, and she practically crumbles to her knees before you can do or say anything about it. Immediately, she engulfs your cock in her warm mouth once again, lips wrapped around every drenched inch, eager to taste the tangy sweetness of her own juices.

"Jesus—so hungry for this fucking cock, aren't you?" you ask, looking down at the beautiful sight of Wonyoung bobbing her head between your legs like her life depends on it, savoring every single drop of her pussy as if she'll never have the privilege of tasting you again.

Wonyoung releases you with a loud, wet pop, letting your shaft smack on her face with a giggle before wrapping fingers along your slick, spit-covered length. "Can’t help it. Not my fault daddy's cock is so delicious." 

As good as she looks with your cock in her mouth, one of those conference room windows has her name written all over it. So without another word, you help Wonyoung back to her feet, earning a cute little gasp of surprise when you hoist her up in the air—then slide your cock right back inside with one swift movement as she wraps her long legs around your waist.

"H-holy shit, daddy, oh fuck—" With each powerful thrust upwards into this pretty cunt, her hands fall around your neck, arms clinging as tightly as she can while your hips drive right up into her. And with an extra squeeze of her scrumptious ass to help, she holds on as you walk her to one of the large windows nearby, continuing right where you left off. 

Her naked back meets the glass surface, the cool sensation catching her entirely off guard. You've got your hands right under her creamy thighs, and Wonyoung feels so light in your arms, practically weightless, able to easily pin her up against the glass like a prized piece of artwork. 

Wonyoung’s petite body is almost too easy to carry around—it takes no effort to bounce her on your cock, starting out with these shallow pumps, before really fucking her on your shaft, returning to something that resembles your earlier pace. "Hope you’re ready for me to blow such a thick fucking load into you, princess." 

“Always am,” she says, as her head rests against the glass window, eyes fluttering close whenever you slam her all the way down your length. Wonyoung feels so good wrapped around your cock, so unbelievably tight as you pound her deep and fast in such a vulnerable position on display for anybody who looks high enough to see. “Love when daddy uses my little pussy and fills me up with hot cum.” 

“Good,” you start to say, focusing on drilling as deep as possible in every thrust, so addicted to the moans that spill out so freely, exactly like before. "Because I'm gonna cum in you so hard. Gonna fill that pretty cunt to the fucking brim. No goddamn way I’m pulling out."

"I know daddy would never. Wanna feel it all unload inside me. Don't waste a single drop, pump it all deep into my pussy, empty those heavy balls right in me—that’s where it belongs." 

"Yeah, it fucking does," you reply, feeling a new surge of energy as you keep Wonyoung pinned against the glass, relishing how helpless this position is making her feel. You’re both completely lost in it all, the slick walls of her cunt spasming like crazy, every thrust hitting harder than the last. “All this cum belongs deep inside this perfect cunt of yours. Not gonna have to wait long for me to fill you up."

With that said, you give everything you’ve got, staring into those eyes that demand her wet cunt gets used by your shaft, stretched out with every pump. And just like that, you fuck Wonyoung into another devastating orgasm, pounding relentlessly into her dripping heat while she writhes uncontrollably in your arms. 

“Greedy fucking slut can’t stop cumming on my cock, can you?” you ask, and there's nothing to muffle her high-pitched cries. She clenches harder and harder in response, knowing how equally close you're getting, far too close for comfort, wanting that hot, sticky release shooting deep.

And as much as you want this to never end, to keep Wonyoung impaled on your shaft with her sweaty body against the window, you simply can't fight your inevitable end. You get a nice, firm grip on her ass, fingertips filled with that supple flesh, and keep her body securely in your grasp as she hangs on tight, taking every unforgiving thrust. Her legs secure so tightly around you, clinging to your body, and those desperate moans turn into whines and whimpers whenever you bring her body down on the base of your shaft every time you drive deep. 

"Inside me. Cum inside me, daddy, right now, please, just—“

As if there's any choice to be made. You can barely hold out, keeping her pinned against the glass while you bury your throbbing shaft back into those glistening pussy lips. It's all a matter of seconds, until her cunt grips you just the right way and makes you fucking explode inside her warm, slippery depths.

The look in her lustful eyes, those sweet pleas that beg for you to pump it all into her like she deserves, it has you there in an instant. When you inevitably topple over the edge, you let out a loud, guttural groan, and empty everything into Wonyoung like you’ve been building it all up for weeks. 

Thrust after thrust, your shaft throbs violently, flooding Wonyoung’s intoxicating heat with thick, sticky strands of white, and you spill it all into the deepest part of her soaked cunt. It's pure ecstasy, and the first pump inside makes her convulse around your cock, her pretty features contorted with relief as her pussy takes in everything, refusing to give back a single drop.

The most perfect place to unload all your cum, right where it fucking belongs.

Through this final ride of bliss, Wonyoung’s long legs stay wrapped around you, holding you hostage, and every squeeze her cunt gives has you fucking your messy load deeper into her greedy pussy, hips nearly on auto-pilot. Because once again, it’s another way of proving that she’s actually the one in charge here, despite your defilement of her body that would say otherwise. 

“Feels so full, so warm, daddy always cums so much in me,” Wonyoung says, as she buries her head in your shoulder, muffling her attempts to catch her breath. 

“You earned it, princess. For being such a—“ you cut yourself off, because you’re much too tired to even think about anything but the bliss lingering through your body. 

“For what? Being daddy’s slut? Or his favorite cum dump?”

“I was about to say a good girl, but clearly I was wrong, once again. You really are nothing but an insatiable little slut.”  

“Daddy’s insatiable little slut. You should know already that I’m not a good girl…” Maybe they go hand-in-hand more than Wonyoung thinks. 

As good as this glass window must feel against Wonyoung's exhausted figure, you're far too spent to keep her pressed here. With whatever stamina left remaining, you carry her over to the conference table and deposit her limp body onto the flat wooden surface before you collapse right on top of her, still sheathed in her warm pussy. 

It's Wonyoung that moves next, wrapping her hands around you to pull you close, lips meeting in a sloppy, heated kiss that’s considerably less intense than before. Her hands settle around your cheeks, and she cradles your face to meet your gaze, content with you just staring at her. 

“Just a little longer, daddy. Feels so good to have you inside me. Stay like this a bit longer.“ You can’t possibly say no to that. So you simply nod, resting your body on top of Wonyoung as she continues to keep you warm in her messy cunt. 

The two of you lose track of time while basking in the afterglow with no concerns for anything else, making out lazily. After all the roughness that comes with the territory of fucking Wonyoung, these delicate kisses prove just as necessary, brushing strands of hair that stick to her forehead. You could easily rest here forever. 

"Daddy..." Wonyoung mutters when you finally part from her sticky folds, all that oozing mess dripping out into a puddle on the ground, joining the previous evidence left by this rigorous session. "Let's go get ice cream. There's a new place nearby I wanna try." 

It's so very Wonyoung that even while she rests here, fully naked on this table, covered in sweat with her legs hanging off the edge, that all she can think about is eating ice cream. But hey, nothing sounds better, other than maybe a long, long steamy shower. "Whatever you want, princess. You deserve it." 

"Of course I do. All this thick cum pumped into me proves it," she says, swiping two fingers through her messy folds to scoop out a bit of the seed you've shot deep, then sucks on her fingers so obscenely, like it's her favorite thing in the world to taste.

There’s that look in her eyes again, suddenly energized by tasting what you’ve left between her legs. And yet, you can't exactly hide that you share the same desire, no longer the least bit exhausted while Wonyoung’s naked body stays on full display, glistening with sweat, cum dripping down her thighs, hair all disheveled, looking like an absolute gorgeous wreck. 

"Or does daddy wanna fuck another load into me first?” 

✦ ✦

Finding every excuse not to return to the apartment, ice cream only happens somewhere near the second or third round, after finishing inside Wonyoung again, then once more over her tight body all sprawled out on the conference table.

Without a shred of guilt, you've both left that room in absolute shambles, trusting Wonyoung's word when she swears nobody's going to even bother checking this place, anyway. So after trying to clean up what you can, ice cream turns into another quick fuck in the bathroom, plowing her against the sink while keeping a hand right over her mouth the entire time, until you shoot another heavy load all over her eager, gorgeous face. 

Wonyoung always looks the prettiest when she’s covered in your load. 

And of course, that wasn’t enough—because nothing ever is, even as she stares at her cum-glazed face in the mirror, almost daring to leave the bathroom wearing your load. 

You manage to sneak in one more session, this time outdoors, by the river, on a park bench in an area that you hope is secluded enough to escape attention. At least the sun has gone down, though the lust from Wonyoung clearly hasn't. 

The stars shine bright in the sky, highlighting every inch of this girl’s ridiculous figure while she rides you until you warn her you're about to explode. She quickly slips off your shaft and drops to her knees in the grass, eager to finish you off with her mouth as her lips slide down to your base just in time. And somehow, you’re still throbbing hard through another explosive release, gripping the edge of the bench while she guzzles it all down her throat.

In typical Wonyoung fashion, she keeps sucking like a greedy slut, as if she hasn't already emptied you several times over. You don't have the energy to protest, which, of course, she uses to her advantage, keeping her warm fucking mouth around your oversensitive, swollen shaft. There’s no point in resorting to begging, because nothing’s going to stop her from making you blow again, refusing to let off until she claims one more pathetic load. 

When she finally has mercy on you, she drags her cum-soaked tongue up to the tip of your cock, smiling innocently like she just didn't force everything you had left into her throat. Then she has the audacity to plant these little kisses all over your cockhead, watching how it twitches uncontrollably, continuing to stroke along every inch until there's nothing left to spill. 

And just like that, she's in your lap, running fingers through your hair, giggling that she still has the taste of your cum lingering in her mouth. The way Wonyoung goes from depraved and starved for cock to sweet princess so suddenly makes your head fucking spin.

It's almost midnight by the time you get under running water, and you’re so devoid of energy that Wonyoung ends up having to scrub every inch of your body before her own—or that's just another excuse for her to get her hands all over you. Either way, by the time she's all finished cleaning you up, you collapse right onto the mattress. 

"Poor daddy's so worn out," you hear Wonyoung say as she crawls under the sheets right behind, pressing her naked body into your back, legs coiling around you. An arm hooks over your chest, wrapping tight enough so that you can't escape, even if you wanted to. "Wanted you to fuck me until I couldn't walk straight, but seems like daddy can't even move an inch."

Even when you're about to pass out from exhaustion, you can't help but let out a smile at how brazen she sounds. Wonyoung nuzzles against the back of your shoulder before placing a little peck near the side of your neck. Then another. And one more for good measure. 

"Maybe we should leave Yujinnie alone more often if it means daddy gets to have so much fun with me..." 

That's the last thing you hear, thinking about how much Yujin's going to jump all over the both of you the moment she's done with studies before the exhaustion finally takes over, welcoming a deep, long slumber. 

And you can’t wait. 

[0cta9on]

Train Ride to Heaven

length: +3k words

Genre: Smut

NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader

(Author's Note: The winner of the first smut poll! I wrote this entire thing in 1.5 sittings, so it's very rough and unedited. Nevertheless, hope you horny sickos enjoy it <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

A weary sigh leaves your lips as you rest the back of your head against the trembling glass of the subway. Eight years of college, even more years of brown-nosing just for a sliver of a chance at a promotion, hours of sleep lost from nights working overtime, and where did it land you? A thankless office job that considers you more of a number than a living, breathing human being. After all that, you get to go home to a loveless marriage with a woman you know for a fact is cheating on you with her personal trainer, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. Hooray for you.

You feel the subway slowly creep to a stop. A few more of those and you’ll finally be able to sleep and pretend like you're dead for a couple hours before doing it all over again. A lone girl, at least 18, walks into the car and takes a seat directly across from you - an odd move considering the entire car is completely empty aside from you. You try to ignore her, opting to get some shut-eye before you get to your stop, but you can’t deny the shift in the atmosphere from her presence. She’s a pretty young girl, all alone at this time of night. You could do anything to her and no one would even know. You shake your head at the thought. No good can come from a perverted old man like yourself.

“Psst…”

Although, there’s no fault in thinking like that if it stays in your mind. A cute girl like her could easily be taken advantage of. In fact, she’s lucky that you’re here instead of an actual sicko that would try to put their hands all over her.

“Psst… Ahjussi…”

This shitty marriage has got you all pent up. Not like you would have any energy left in you, especially after a day like this. Lucky you. Maybe if you pray hard enough, whatever god is up there will pity you and summon a woman that’ll throw themselves at you. If only life were that easy.

“Ahjussi!”

Your eyes shoot open from the sudden noise. The girl sitting across from you giggles to herself as she smiles at you. It isn’t immediately obvious due to her innocent features, but you can tell that she’s hiding something behind that smile. Something sinister, even. How exciting.

“What?” You ask. Her sly smile only grows as she subtly raises her skirt. Little by little, she reveals the supple flesh of her thighs, firm and plump. You know in the back of your mind that this is wrong, that she shouldn’t be exposing herself to an old man like this, but the second you see that little bit of white cotton in between her legs, all common sense flies out the window. Suddenly, she lowers her skirt, much to your disappointment. Your emotions must have been obvious as she cackles sweetly, pointing at your face. Embarrassed, you lean back and shut your eyes, hoping she’ll leave you alone for the duration of the ride.

“Ahjussi~” she teases in a sing-songy voice. “Open your eyes~” Like a fool, you follow her orders without a second thought. This time, however, the reward is greater than you could have ever imagined. Her white cotton panties are there in full view for no one else but yourself, drawing you in like a siren. The girl bites her lip as she traces circles around her crotch, more for you rather than herself. Your cock begins to strain in your pants, begging to be set free.

“Come here,” she says, beckoning you with a single finger. You quickly do as she says and sit next to her. Up close, you can see just how deceivingly innocent she is with her big, round eyes and her thick, pouty lips. Anyone would walk by her and assume she’s a classy and upstanding student, not a little slut teasing random old men in a subway (Not that you mind).

“My name is Hanni, what’s your name?” She asks, gripping the sleeve of your blazer while she plays with herself under her skirt.

“I-I, u-um, m-my name is-”

She brings a finger to your lips, silencing you. “Actually, I don’t really care, I’m just gonna call you daddy,” Hanni giggles. You force yourself to take a deep breath in an attempt to remain composed, but inside, you’re cheering like an addicted gambler finally hitting that sweet, sweet jackpot.

“So Daddy, what are you doing riding the train home this late at night?” The lilt she puts on that word is enough to drive you insane, but you try to hold back, not wanting to scare her off if you appear too eager.

“Uh, y’know, just getting home after a long day of work. Boring office job and all that. Nothing you would find any interest in,’ you sigh. Hanni pouts, looking at you with a sympathetic expression.

“Awww poor daddy, you must be so stressed.” She holds onto your arm, pushing her perky breasts into you. Your wife has never given you so much as a glance in your direction whenever you showed up exhausted from work. She’s probably too busy texting her personal trainer. Hell, she’s probably fucking him right at this very moment. It’s only fair if you get to have some fun for yourself, right?

“Yeah, I suppose I am pretty stressed. On top of that, my wife has been cheating on me with this personal trainer guy she met a couple months ago.” As soon as you mention your wife’s adultery, a hint of a smirk appears on Hanni’s lips.

“Oh no~,” she says, feigning pity. “Maybe I can help you… feel better?” She puts your hand on your chest and inches it downwards, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Her face is close enough for you to feel her breath on your chin, but just far enough for her to escape if you try to kiss her. All you can do is wait as you feel her hand getting closer and closer closer to your raging erection. Everything fades away but the pumping of your heart and the gentle brown of her eyes. Finally, a guttural groan escapes your mouth as she grasps onto your cock, stroking it through your pants.

Hanni giggles at your expression. “Does that feel good, Daddy? Do you like it when I play with Daddy’s cock?” All you can do is nod as she continues to toy with you, rubbing and squeezing along your shaft. It’s been so long since another person has touched your penis that you almost finish right then and there, but you continue to hold it in with steely determination.

“Daddy’s cock is so big and thick, I don’t know if it’ll fit in my tiny, little mouth.” Hanni leans into your ear, tickling your skin with her breath as she whispers, “Maybe we should find out.”

“Y-yes, god yes,” you practically beg.

“Then tell me what to do,” she says. “I’m your little whore for the night. Treat me like one.” Those filthy words coming out of her pretty mouth is a memory that you will never forget until the day you die.

“Fucking suck my cock, you slut,” you command her, a little too enthusiastically. Even in the prime of your relationship, your wife would never let you talk to her like this. To have your commands followed by this cute girl is heart-poundingly exhilarating. You feel like a whole new man.

Hanni fiddles with your belt buckle at a snail’s pace. You try to do it yourself to get the ball rolling, but she swats your hand away.

“Let me do it by myself, Daddy~” she pouts. With a nod, you lean back and let her have her way, succumbing to the desires of her cuteness. If she wanted to, she could easily take over the world with her looks alone.

After unbuckling your belt and unzipping your pants, all that’s left is the fabric of your underwear separating your dick from her glossy lips. Hanni places a few gentle kisses on your bulge, drawing a moan from your belly. Giggling, her fingers hook around the waistband and pull it down at a tantalizingly slow pace, leaving you to wait as your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Finally, your member swings up, almost hitting Hanni in the face. Her jaw drops as she gazes at your length, a look of surprise and a little bit of fear in her eyes.

“Oh shit…” she whispers to herself before shaking her head and putting back the sultry appearance she had before. “I can’t wait to choke on your big, fat cock, Daddy,” she smirks as she begins to stroke your shaft. Hanni’s hands are much softer than your wife’s, and even more skilled as she cups your balls, applying just enough pressure so that it doesn’t hurt. You watch with bated breath as she leans forward, eyeing the tip of your cock for a moment before it disappears into her open mouth. The sound of your moan echoes throughout the subway car as Hanni sucks on your tip, slowly taking in more of your length with each bob of her head. Even your wife’s cocksucking skills pale in comparison to hers, you almost feel bad for the guy that she’s fucking.

“Yes, good girl, Hanni. Suck that dick, you fucking slut,” you encourage. You notice her ass sticking up in the air, and thanks to the rumbling of the train and her bobbing motions, her skirt rides up just enough for you to peek at the white panties covering her ass, giving you the bright idea to reel back and give her a good, hard spank. She moans into your cock, heightening the sensation. 

“I bet you like that, you little whore.” You yank her up by the hair, forcing her to look at you, saliva covering her mouth and chin. All the inhibitions and common sense you had before are completely gone, leaving nothing behind but animalistic desire.  “Say it. Say that your daddy’s little fucktoy.”

“I’m daddy’s little fucktoy,” she repeats, giggling at you. Satisfied, you release her hair and sit back, watching as she alternates between deepthroating your shaft and sucking on your balls while she strokes your entire length with her spit. You would happily quit your job and live at the subway instead if it meant you get to have this petite sex doll all to yourself every night.

Suddenly, the train comes to a stop at one of the stations and a man stumbles inside. The two of you scramble to cover up, hiding any semblance that the two of you were doing anything indecent. Much to your dismay, the man sits nearby, making it difficult for even small gestures to go unnoticed. He’s clearly not a student nor is he an office worker, so why the hell would he be riding the subway this late at night!?

“Wait,” Hanni whispers, pointing at the man. “Look.”

Confused, you watch as his body begins to sway with the movements of the train. Upon closer inspection, you notice that his eyes are struggling to stay open and his clothes are disheveled. Clearly, he’s either drunk, faded, or both. Finally, BAM - he knocks out on the seat, completely unconscious.

Hanni stifles as she gives you a knowing look. “He’ll be out for a little while so…” She bends over the seat, shaking her butt at you. “Fuck my little pussy with that cock, Daddy~,” she teases, winking back at you.

Pounding with excitement, you release your cock and stroke it back to life, while your other hand pulls down her white cotton panties, finally revealing her pinky honeypot to you. With Hanni’s saliva as lube, you line up your tip with her cunt, teasing her moist folds.

“Are you ready, baby?” you ask

“I’m so fucking rea- MMPH!” She struggles to stifle a moan as you completely bottom out inside of her, all in one thrust. So slick and so tight, you don't even care about comparing her to your wife anymore. All you want to do is ruin her little pussy and use it as your personal cocksleeve. You sink your fingers into her hips, pulling her into you with each thrust and watching her cute ass jiggle against you.

Fuck that stupid company. Fuck your stupid bitch of a wife. Your entire life you were told what to do, how to act, and what you should look like in order to succeed in life. You followed everyone’s orders to a T, even going above and beyond to obtain that success that was oh so coveted. But look where you are now - eight inches deep into some girl you just met tonight. Fuck the “high-paying job” and fuck the “hot wife”. If this isn’t success, then you don’t know what is.

“O-oh my g-god… Y-you’re so f-fucking h-huge…” Hanni squeaks in between thrusts, desperately trying to control her volume. You’re unsure how much longer you can manage, but it doesn’t matter. Whether she likes it or not, this slut is gonna leave with a gallon of your cum deep inside of her.

Hanni’s body begins to shake violently. “I-I… I’m cumming!” She shrieks wildly. You pull out of her, watching in astonishment as she squirts all over the seats. And your wife said you could never dream of satisfying a woman - if only she could see this now. 

“H-holy shit…” she says, leaning her head on your shoulder as she gasps for air. “That was… fucking insane.” Both of you laugh as you wait for her to get down from her high. Miraculously, the man didn’t notice her ear-splitting orgasm, still completely out cold.

Suddenly, Hanni straddles your lap, wrapping her arms around your head. “I noticed that you didn’t cum yet, Daddy.” She gyrates your hips, rubbing her wet slit against your tip. You figure she would still be sensitive after the first round, but it’s clear she was built purely to fuck. “Maybe we should change that,” she says, biting her lips.

“Maybe we should,” you smirk. Hanni kisses you as she drops her hips onto your cock, causing her to moan into your mouth. Not wanting to give up dominance completely, you shove your tongue down her throat, filling two of her holes at once. The wet slapping of her bouncing on your cock echoes throughout the car, and at this point, you don’t care if that man wakes up or not. He could be completely conscious and recording you right now, but you still wouldn’t stop plowing this little minx. In fact, you secretly hope that he is recording right now - the whole world should know that this fucktoy named Hanni is yours and yours alone.

You rip open her top, exposing her perky tits. They are on the smaller side, but they’re big enough to jiggle with each bounce and that’s good enough for you. Hanni grabs your head as you latch onto her tits, licking and sucking every inch of her chest. The pressure begins to build in your loins and you know the end is coming soon. Wanting to milk every drop of this experience, you stand up, supporting Hanni by the ass, and begin ramming into her with every ounce of energy you have left. Rather than a 40-something-year-old man, you feel like you’re reborn again into your 20-year-old body. You feel the familiar tightening of Hanni’spussy around your member, and with one final thrust, your body is elevated to Heaven. Shooting rope after rope into her deep cunt, the high is nothing like you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime. Not even your wife- Ah, who cares about her. She’s nothing but dirt under your foot, while Hanni is an angel sent from above.

You gently place her down on the seat before collapsing next to her, shutting your eyes so you can replay this entire experience in your head. Never in your life did you think you would ever get this lucky. The train comes to a halt, and a hand pats your shoulder.

“Sorry Daddy, but this is my stop,” she giggles as she skips towards the open doors. Despite the rough pounding you just gave her, she somehow managed to look presentable in the short time that your eyes were closed. “I’ll see you around, Daddy~”

The last thing you see is her wink before hopping off the train and disappearing into the night. You’re disappointed that you didn’t ask for her contact information before she left, but you’re confident that you’ll cross paths with her again in the future. Surely, whatever god that heard your prayers isn’t that cruel, right?

As you approach your stop, you quickly get yourself sorted, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention from passersby. If your wife asks about any mysterious “stains” on you, you could easily attribute it to being clumsy while drinking. Not that she would care enough to ask anyway. 

Upon exiting the car, a police officer stops you as you approach the stairs.

“Excuse me, sir,” he says. You try to ignore him, hoping that there’s someone behind you that he’s referring to, but unfortunately, nobody else is around. “Sir, I need to talk to you for just a moment.”

“What’s the problem, officer?” You ask, hiding your panic behind a nervous smile. A whirlwind of questions swarm your mind. Is this about Hanni? Did you get caught? Was it that drunk guy that sold you out? Beads of sweat begin to form on your head as the police officer questions you.

“There has been an increase in robberies in the subway recently and I just want to ask if you saw any suspicious individuals lurking around the subway.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the heat isn’t on you. “Well, no officer, I haven’t seen any suspicious individuals around,” you reply.

“Are you sure?” He asks. “All the victims have described the suspect as being a short Asian girl, about 18 years of age, with big brown eyes and black hair. Does that ring any bells for you?

An alarm blares throughout your head. Surely he’s lying, right? Maybe he’s talking about a different Asian girl. There are probably thousands, no, MILLIONS of people that fit that criteria. Besides, you and Hanni shared a special connection tonight. She’s the answer to everything that ever went wrong in your life, an angel sent from Heaven to cure you of your miseries. Hanni wouldn’t lie to you, right?

You dig through your pockets, frantically scrambling for your wallet and your phone. You feel something in your pocket and pull it out, only to be filled with dread at the sight of it - white cotton panties.

[pucksandpower]

Never? Never.

Day 14 → Innocence Play 💋 Lewis Hamilton

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

The office feels charged. There’s a weight in the air, one that sits low on Lewis’ chest as he waits. His arms are crossed, and he leans back slightly in his chair, fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the armrest.

He’s not impatient, exactly. More … curious. A steady line of candidates has been moving in and out all morning, but none of them have made much of an impression.

Then the door opens.

You step in, and for a second, the world seems to shift. Lewis sits up straighter, the tapping on the armrest stops as his hand stills. It’s subtle, but something inside him clicks.

You’re standing there, blinking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, dressed in a way that shouldn’t catch his attention but does. There’s something about you — something that feels out of place, but in a way that demands his attention.

You look young. Too young, maybe. But your resume … he remembers it well. It was strong, impressive even, especially for someone your age.

That’s why you’re here, why you got the interview. But now that he sees you — sees the way your lips press together nervously, the way your hands fidget at your sides — he knows. He’s already decided.

You’re the one.

He clears his throat, motions toward the chair opposite him. “You can sit.”

You hesitate for half a second, then move quickly to take a seat. Your movements are precise but careful, like you’re hyper-aware of the space around you.

“Thank you,” you say softly, your voice almost a whisper. Lewis has to resist the urge to lean in closer, as if proximity could make you louder.

For a moment, there’s silence. It hangs in the air between you, but it isn’t uncomfortable. He watches you, studies the way your fingers lace together in your lap, the way your gaze flickers between him and the floor.

“So,” Lewis finally says, his voice deep, smooth, breaking the stillness. “You’re younger than I expected.”

You look up sharply, and there it is — that nervous energy he noticed the moment you walked in. “Is that … a problem?”

Lewis leans back in his chair, watching you carefully. “Not necessarily.” He lets the words hang, lets you sit with them for a moment. Then he adds, “Your resume says enough. But you know, experience counts too.”

You nod quickly, like you’ve rehearsed this. “I’ve worked hard to gain as much experience as possible, despite my age. I did an accelerated program, internships, and I’ve had hands-on experience in sports therapy.”

He smirks a little, not unkindly. “That’s what the resume says. But I want to know if you can keep up. My schedule is … demanding.”

“I can handle demanding.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow, intrigued. There’s a quiet strength in your voice now, something steady beneath the nerves. It draws him in. “You sure?”

You nod again, a little more confidently this time. “I’m sure.”

For a moment, he just looks at you. There’s something about your determination, your innocence wrapped in a quiet kind of fierceness, that makes him want to test you. Push a little further. See how far you’ll go.

“You know what I do, right?” he asks, voice low, almost teasing. “How intense it gets?”

Your lips part slightly, eyes wide again, but you don’t look away. “I know.”

“And you think you can keep up with that? With me?”

You hesitate, but only for a fraction of a second. “I do.”

Lewis lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and there’s a flicker of something — something he can’t quite name — that runs through him. Maybe it’s the way you sit there, unwavering under his scrutiny. Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re still so young, so innocent, yet there’s an undeniable strength beneath it all.

“You don’t look like you belong here,” he says suddenly, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

Your cheeks flush, but you don’t back down. “Maybe I don’t. But I can do the job.”

That makes him smile, really smile this time. “Confident.”

You don’t respond, just look at him with those wide, innocent eyes that make something inside him twist. He’s always liked control, liked knowing where everything stands, and right now, he’s trying to figure out where you fit into that. Because you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t affect him like this. But you do.

“Okay,” he says finally, breaking the silence again. “Let’s say I believe you. What makes you think you can handle me?”

You blink, clearly caught off guard. “I-I mean, I’ve worked with athletes before. High pressure, fast-paced environments.”

Lewis shakes his head, leaning forward now, arms resting on the table between you. “No. What makes you think you can handle me? It’s not just about keeping up with the physical demands. It’s about knowing what I need, sometimes before I even know it myself.”

You swallow hard, and he watches as you process the question. It’s not fair, not really, because how could you possibly know what he’s asking for? But he wants to see how you’ll respond, how far you’ll go to prove yourself.

“I … I think I’m good at reading people,” you say slowly, carefully. “I can pick up on what they need, even when they don’t say it out loud. I don’t know everything about you yet, but I’m confident I can learn.”

There it is again — that quiet strength. The determination that makes something inside him tighten. He likes it. He likes you.

“You’re not what I expected,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer now.

You blink, unsure how to respond. “Is that … bad?”

Lewis shakes his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. “No. It’s not bad at all.”

There’s a beat of silence, then he adds, “You’ve got the job.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “But … you didn’t ask me any real questions. You haven’t seen what I can do.”

“I don’t need to,” he says simply, standing up from his chair. He walks around the table, stopping just in front of you. “I already know.”

You stand too, a little more slowly, still looking at him like you can’t quite believe what’s happening. “But … why?”

Lewis steps closer, close enough now that he can see the way your breath hitches just slightly. He lowers his voice, eyes locked on yours. “Because you’re the only one who walked in here and made me feel something.”

Your breath catches, and for a second, neither of you move. There’s something electric in the air, something that crackles between you, and Lewis feels it in his chest, in the way his pulse quickens.

“You’re going to learn a lot,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper now. “About me. About what I need. And I’m going to push you, test you, see how far you can go. But I think you’re ready for that.”

You swallow hard, and he watches as you try to steady yourself, try to keep up with the intensity of his gaze. “I … I am.”

Lewis nods, satisfied. “Good. We start tomorrow.”

With that, he steps back, giving you a little space, though the air between you still feels charged, thick with something unspoken. You seem unsure of what to say, how to respond, but Lewis doesn’t need words right now.

He turns, walking toward the door, but pauses just before opening it. Without looking back, he says, “See you at 6 AM sharp. Don’t be late.”

Then he’s gone, leaving you standing there, breathless and wide-eyed, already wrapped up in something you can’t quite name yet.

But Lewis knows.

He knew the moment you walked in.

You were always meant to be his.

***

The penthouse feels warm, alive in the afterglow of celebration. Outside, the city hums in the late hours, but inside, it’s just the two of you. The clink of glasses and quiet laughter fills the space as you sit on the plush couch, facing each other.

The race earlier had been electric — Lewis on top of the podium again, his smile wide and genuine, the energy of the crowd still buzzing in his veins. Now, it’s quieter. The adrenaline has faded to something softer, and there’s a comfortable ease between you that hadn’t been there in those early days. It’s been months of working together, and you’ve found your rhythm.

Lewis leans back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one arm resting lazily on the back of the couch. His other hand holds a glass of Almave and he swirls the liquid idly, watching the way the light catches in the amber liquid.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he says, his voice low, cutting through the comfortable silence.

You look up at him, blinking a little as if pulled from your thoughts. “Just … taking it all in.”

Lewis smiles, a slow, crooked thing that makes your heart skip a beat. “Good night, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “It was … perfect.”

He watches you for a moment, studying the way you say it, the way your eyes seem to sparkle just a little more tonight. You’re both a little tipsy on the high of the win and the celebratory toasts that followed. The Almave is smooth, the evening smooth, and everything feels just a little softer around the edges.

“You’re getting better at this,” he says, leaning forward slightly, eyes still locked on you. “The whole celebration thing.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be the one celebrating.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Why not? You’re part of this. Part of me.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, heavier than you expected, and you don’t know what to say. Lewis is always like this — direct, confident, never afraid to make you think, to push just a little further than you’re comfortable. It’s why you’ve grown so much since you started working with him. He makes you better, challenges you in ways no one ever has.

“You don’t have to keep quiet when things go well,” he continues, his voice soft but firm. “You’re allowed to enjoy it.”

You nod, but there’s something in your eyes, something guarded. He notices it right away, the way you pull back just a little, and he doesn’t like it. He wants to break through that wall you still keep up sometimes, even after all these months.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, leaning in a little closer now, his voice low and gentle. “You look like you’re holding something back.”

You shift uncomfortably, eyes darting away for a second before you force yourself to look at him again. “Nothing. I’m just … tired.”

“Liar.” He says it with a teasing smile, but his eyes are sharp, focused on you in that way he has, like he can see straight through the layers you try to put up. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nod, but there’s a hesitation, a flicker of something that passes over your face. Lewis doesn’t miss it. He never misses anything when it comes to you.

“You don’t believe me,” he says, voice softer now, almost coaxing.

“I do,” you protest, but it’s weak, unconvincing.

Lewis sets his glass down on the coffee table, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Tell me something,” he says quietly, his eyes holding yours. “Something you’ve never told anyone before.”

You blink, the request catching you off guard. Your eyes widen slightly, and Lewis can see the panic flash across your face, just for a second.

“I don’t know if-” you start, but Lewis cuts you off.

“No.” He shakes his head. “No deflecting. You can trust me.”

There’s a beat of silence, and he watches as you wrestle with yourself, weighing whether or not to let him in. He’s patient, though. He knows you need time. And he knows you’ll tell him, eventually. You always do.

“I don’t …” you start, then stop, biting your lip as you look down at your hands. “It’s … personal.”

Lewis leans back again, but his eyes stay fixed on you. “That’s the point. I’m asking you to let me in.”

You fidget in your seat, your fingers twisting in your lap as you avoid his gaze. “I’m just not sure if it’s … the right time.”

Lewis lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “If not now, when? We’ve been doing this — whatever this is — for months now. I think we’re past the point of secrets, don’t you?”

You stay quiet, your eyes darting to the side, and Lewis can see the internal battle you’re fighting. He can almost feel it, the way you’re teetering on the edge of letting something out that you’ve kept hidden for a long time.

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to place a hand on your knee, his touch light but grounding. “It’s just me. You know that, right?”

You finally look up at him, your eyes searching his for something — reassurance, maybe, or understanding. And Lewis holds your gaze, steady and unwavering, waiting for you to decide.

“I don’t know if you really want to hear this,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lewis tilts his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Try me.”

There’s a long pause, the air between you thick with tension. Then, finally, you take a deep breath, your shoulders rising and falling with the weight of whatever it is you’re about to say.

“I’ve never told anyone this,” you start, your voice shaky but determined. “Because it’s … it’s embarrassing. And I don’t really know how to-”

Lewis cuts you off, his voice gentle but firm. “Don’t overthink it. Just say it.”

You swallow hard, your eyes dropping to your hands again as you fidget with the hem of your shirt. There’s a long pause, and Lewis can see how hard this is for you, how much you’re struggling to get the words out. But he stays quiet, giving you the space you need, his hand still resting on your knee, a steady presence.

Then, in a voice so soft he almost doesn’t hear it, you finally speak.

“I’ve never had an orgasm.”

***

There’s a stillness in the room after your words hang in the air. Lewis watches you, his eyes sharp, but his expression softens — careful. He wasn’t expecting that. Of all the things you could’ve said, this isn’t what crossed his mind. But there it is. Laid bare between you both.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice is quiet, but there’s something darker beneath it, something that makes the air feel heavier, charged.

You don’t look at him, your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands still fidgeting in your lap. “I don’t … I don’t really know why,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just never happened.”

Lewis leans back against the couch, his arm sliding across the backrest, fingers just brushing the top of your shoulder. He’s processing this, taking his time. He’s no stranger to intimacy, but this is different. This is you.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, sees the way you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice low, pulling you back from wherever your mind is racing to. “Look at me.”

You hesitate, but finally, your eyes meet his. There’s vulnerability there, a kind of rawness that makes his chest tighten. He’s used to seeing you composed, in control of yourself, even when you’re nervous. But now? Now you look small, like you’re afraid of being judged.

Lewis doesn’t judge. Not you. Not ever.

“First of all,” he says, a slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “there’s nothing embarrassing about that. Understand?”

You nod, but you don’t look convinced. He can tell this is something you’ve been carrying around for a while, something that’s weighed on you.

“And second,” he continues, his smile widening just a little, “I may be vegan, but I’d be more than happy to devour you.”

Your eyes widen in shock, your mouth parting slightly as his words sink in. “What?” You whisper, like you didn’t hear him right.

Lewis chuckles, low and deep, leaning in closer. “You heard me.”

He can see the confusion in your eyes, the way your mind is working overtime to process what he’s offering. He likes seeing you like this — unsure, but curious. There’s something about the innocence in your gaze that stirs something primal in him, something possessive.

“I-” you start, but you cut yourself off, clearly unsure of how to respond.

Lewis tilts his head slightly, watching you carefully, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to do anything. Let me take the lead.”

Your breath hitches, and he watches as your lips part again, eyes darting away from his. You’re nervous, he knows that. But there’s something else too, something that feels like anticipation. You’re intrigued, curious, maybe even a little excited by the prospect of letting go.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers now twisting the fabric of your shirt again.

Lewis shifts, closing the space between you, his hand moving to cup your chin gently, turning your face so that you’re looking at him. “You don’t have to know,” he says softly, his thumb brushing against your jaw. “All you need to do is trust me. Can you do that?”

You hesitate, your eyes searching his, trying to find something, some kind of reassurance. But there’s only certainty in his gaze, the kind that comes with confidence, with control. He knows what he’s doing, knows how to read you, and he wants to show you just how good it can be.

“Yes,” you finally breathe, the word barely audible but enough for Lewis to hear.

“Good,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing your bottom lip now. He watches as your breath catches, your lips parting just slightly under his touch. There’s a shift in the air between you, something electric, and Lewis feels it deep in his chest. He’s been patient with you, kept things professional, but there’s always been this undercurrent, this tension.

He’s not interested in waiting any longer.

His hand drops from your chin, trailing down your neck, fingers brushing over your collarbone. He watches the way your chest rises and falls, how your breath quickens just from the lightest touch. It’s intoxicating, watching you respond to him like this, and he knows you’re feeling it too — the pull, the anticipation.

“Let me show you,” he whispers, his voice low, almost a growl. “I want you to feel everything.”

You bite your lip, clearly still nervous, but you don’t pull away. You’re trusting him, even though you’re unsure of where this is going.

Lewis leans in, his lips just inches from your ear as he whispers, “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

Your body stiffens for a moment, but then he feels you melt into his touch as his hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer. It’s slow, deliberate, the way he moves, as if he’s savoring each moment, each small reaction from you. And that’s exactly what he’s doing.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching your face, gauging how you’re feeling. There’s still that uncertainty in your gaze, but there’s something else too — desire. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and Lewis can feel it in the way your body leans into his, the way your breath hitches whenever he touches you.

“Don’t think,” he murmurs, his lips just brushing against yours, teasing. “Just feel.”

You nod slightly, and that’s all the permission he needs. He closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s soft at first, almost testing the waters. But as soon as he feels you respond — feels the way your lips part under his, the way you sigh into the kiss — it deepens. His hand moves to your waist, gripping you tighter, pulling you even closer as he takes control, guiding the pace, the rhythm.

You’re tentative, unsure, but you’re following his lead. And that’s all he needs.

Lewis pulls away just slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. His thumb brushes over your cheek, and he can feel the warmth radiating from your skin, the way your body is buzzing with something new, something unfamiliar.

“How are you feeling?” He asks softly, his voice rough but tender, his hand sliding down to your hip, holding you steady.

Your eyes flutter open, and you look at him with a kind of awe, like you can’t quite believe what’s happening. “I … I don’t know,” you whisper, your voice shaky. “I feel … different.”

Lewis smiles, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip again. “Good different?”

You nod, biting your lip again, and he can see the way your body is responding, even if you’re not fully aware of it yet. You’re relaxing into him, letting go of that initial hesitation, and he loves seeing it — the way you’re starting to trust him, to trust yourself.

“Let me keep going,” he whispers, his lips grazing your ear again, sending a shiver down your spine. “I want to make you feel good. Just … let me lead.”

You hesitate for a second, your breath catching in your throat, but then you nod. It’s small, almost imperceptible, but it’s there.

Lewis doesn’t waste another second. His hand slides down your side, slow and deliberate, tracing the curve of your waist, your hip, while his other hand cradles the back of your neck, pulling you closer for another kiss. This one is deeper, hungrier, and he can feel you responding, your body leaning into his touch, your lips parting for him.

He’s in control. And you’re letting him be.

And as the night stretches on, Lewis knows one thing for sure — he’s going to show you everything you’ve been missing.

Lewis deepens the kiss, feeling the way you respond, how you melt into his touch. He moves with a slow, deliberate intensity, his hand exploring the curves of your body, memorizing every line and contour. There’s a purpose to his movements — he wants to show you what you’ve been missing, and he’s determined to do it right.

“Just relax,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “Let me take care of you.”

You nod slightly, your breath hitching as his hand slips under your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and Lewis feels it, the way your body reacts to his touch. He smiles, a dark, satisfied smile, knowing he’s already starting to break through the walls you’ve built up.

His lips leave yours, trailing a path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly. He can feel your pulse quicken, the way your breath comes in shallow gasps, and it only fuels his desire. He wants to hear you, to feel you lose control, to know that he’s the one making you feel this way.

“Do you trust me?” He whispers, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe, the word barely audible, but it’s enough for Lewis.

“Good,” he replies, his hand moving lower, tracing the waistband of your jeans. “Just let go. Let me show you what it’s like.”

You nod again, and Lewis feels a surge of satisfaction. He wants to take his time with you, to savor every moment, every reaction. His fingers deftly undo the button of your jeans, and he feels you tense slightly.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing purr. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

You take a shaky breath, and he can feel you trying to relax, to trust him. He slides your jeans down, his hands trailing over your thighs, his touch light but firm. He wants you to feel every sensation, to be completely aware of what he’s doing.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, but there’s a softness there too, a tenderness that surprises even him. He wants this to be good for you, wants to show you how it should feel.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly, his hands moving back up, caressing your skin. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

You bite your lip, your eyes locked on his, and Lewis can see the mix of emotions there — nervousness, anticipation, desire. It’s intoxicating.

He leans in, capturing your lips in another kiss, his hand slipping between your thighs, finding the soft fabric of your underwear. He can feel the heat radiating from you, the way your body is already responding to his touch.

“Just let me lead,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers teasing you through the fabric. “I promise you’re going to love this.”

You nod, and Lewis takes it as his cue. He slips his fingers under the waistband, finding the soft, wet heat of you. You gasp, your body arching into his touch, and he smiles against your skin.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. “Just feel.”

You’re breathing harder now, your hands gripping his shoulders, and Lewis can feel the way your body is trembling. He watches your face, the way your eyes flutter closed, your lips parted as you try to catch your breath.

“You’re so responsive,” he says, his voice low and rough. “I love how you’re reacting to me.”

He increases the pressure slightly, his fingers finding a rhythm that has you gasping, your body arching off the couch. He can feel you getting wetter, your arousal slick against his fingers, and it drives him wild.

“Do you like that?” He asks, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice breathless. “Oh God, yes.”

“Good,” he replies, his fingers moving faster now, the pace increasing. “Because I’m not stopping until you come for me.”

You moan, your body trembling as the pleasure builds, and Lewis can feel you getting closer, your muscles tensing, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. He wants to push you over the edge, to see you lose control completely.

“Let go,” he murmurs, his voice a rough command. “I want to feel you come.”

You’re close, he can feel it, and he moves his fingers faster, his thumb finding just the right spot. You cry out, your body arching off the couch, and Lewis can feel you clenching around his fingers as the orgasm crashes over you.

“That’s it,” he says, his voice a low growl. “Let it out.”

You’re trembling, gasping for breath, and Lewis doesn’t stop, his fingers still moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. He wants you to feel it completely, to know what it’s like to lose yourself in the sensation.

As the waves of pleasure finally start to subside, he slows his movements, his touch gentle now, soothing. He watches you, the way your chest rises and falls, your eyes still closed, a look of bliss on your face.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his fingers slipping out, his hand moving to rest on your thigh. “Absolutely incredible.”

You open your eyes, looking at him with a mix of amazement and exhaustion. “I … I can’t believe that just happened,” you whisper.

Lewis smiles, a slow, satisfied smile. “Believe it. And trust me, it’s only the beginning.”

He leans in, kissing you deeply, his hand still resting on your thigh, grounding you. He can feel the way your body is still trembling slightly, the aftershocks of your orgasm making you shiver.

“How do you feel?” He asks softly, his lips brushing against yours.

“Amazing,” you reply, your voice shaky but filled with wonder. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

Lewis chuckles, a low, satisfied sound. “Oh, it can be even better. I promise you.”

You bite your lip, looking at him with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. “Really?”

“Really,” he says, his hand moving up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “I want to show you everything, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

You blush, the color rising in your cheeks, and Lewis feels a surge of affection for you. You’re still so shy, so unsure, but you’re trusting him, and that means everything to him.

“I want that,” you say softly, your eyes locked on his.

“Good,” he replies, his voice filled with determination. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He kisses you again, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that takes your breath away. His hand slips back down, finding the heat of you once more, and he can feel the way your body responds, the way you’re already getting aroused again.

“I want to taste you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire. “I want to make you come with my mouth.”

You gasp, your eyes wide with surprise and anticipation. “I … I’ve never …”

Lewis cuts you off with a kiss, his hand moving to gently push you back against the couch. “Trust me,” he says, his voice a low growl. “You’re going to love this.”

He moves down your body, his lips trailing over your skin, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He takes his time, savoring each moment, each reaction, until he’s settled between your thighs, his hands gently spreading you open.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

You’re trembling, your breath coming in short gasps, and Lewis can feel the anticipation radiating off you. He leans in, his tongue flicking out to taste you, and the sound you make — the soft, desperate moan — drives him wild.

He starts slow, teasing, his tongue moving in gentle, deliberate strokes, wanting to savor the taste of you, the way you respond to his touch. He can feel your body tensing, your hips arching towards him, and he holds you steady, his hands gripping your thighs.

“Just let go,” he murmurs against your skin, his tongue finding a rhythm that has you gasping, your fingers tangling in his braids. “Let me make you feel good.”

You’re moaning now, your body trembling as the pleasure builds, and Lewis can feel the way you’re getting closer, the way your muscles are tensing, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Oh God,” you gasp, your voice high and breathless. “Lewis, please …”

He smiles against your skin, increasing the pressure, his tongue moving faster, more insistent. He wants to push you over the edge again, to feel you lose control completely.

“Come for me,” he growls, his hands gripping your thighs tighter. “I want to taste you.”

You cry out, your body arching off the couch as the orgasm crashes over you, and Lewis doesn’t stop, his tongue still moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. He wants you to feel it completely, to know what it’s like to lose yourself in the sensation.

As the waves of pleasure finally start to subside, he slows his movements, his touch gentle now, soothing. Lewis pulls back slightly, watching you as you lay there, your chest still rising and falling from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

The look on your face — blissful, flushed, and so vulnerable — makes something twist deep in his chest. You’ve just experienced something new, something he’s given you, and the knowledge of that fills him with an intense satisfaction.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his smile slow and full of heat. “You taste incredible,” he murmurs again, voice rough, letting the words hang between you. “I’ve never tasted anything better.”

You’re still catching your breath, but your eyes find his, and there’s a spark of something there — nervous, but … curious.

Lewis can see the way you hesitate, the way you’re trying to form words but don’t quite know how. He leans in, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. “What is it, love?” He asks, his voice soft, coaxing. He’s patient, not wanting to rush you.

You bite your lip, your cheeks flushed with both the intensity of what’s just happened and the thought clearly forming in your mind. “I … I want to …” You hesitate, glancing away briefly, embarrassed. “I want to do the same to you.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow, intrigued, but he doesn’t say anything. He waits, watching the way your gaze drops to his chest, avoiding eye contact.

“I just don’t know … how,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

His heart stirs at your shyness, the vulnerability of your admission. There’s something so genuine about you, so unaffected. He can see the innocence still lingering in your eyes, even after everything that’s just happened. It makes him want to be gentle, to guide you, to show you that there’s no pressure here — just a shared experience between the two of you.

Lewis shifts his weight, sitting up and leaning back against the cushions. He reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he says quietly, his thumb brushing across your skin. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

You shake your head quickly, your hand reaching out to touch his chest, your fingers splayed against his skin. “I want to,” you say, the words coming out more firmly now, but still tinged with uncertainty. “I just … I don’t want to mess it up.”

Lewis chuckles, the sound low and warm, easing the tension in the room. “You won’t mess it up,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Trust me, you can’t mess this up.”

You glance up at him, your eyes searching his face, and he can see the resolve settling in. Slowly, you shift, moving closer to him, your hands tentatively sliding down his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle. Lewis watches you carefully, his breath slowing as your touch grows more confident.

Your fingers dip lower, brushing the waistband of his sweatpants, and you pause, glancing up at him again. “What do I … do first?” You ask, your voice small but filled with curiosity.

Lewis reaches down, his hand gently covering yours, guiding it to the drawstring of his pants. “You start by taking these off,” he says, his voice deep, steady. “Just go slow.”

You swallow hard, but you nod, your fingers trembling slightly as you untie the knot and slowly pull his pants down. Lewis helps you, lifting his hips slightly to ease them off, and soon, they’re discarded on the floor. He’s left in just his boxers, his arousal evident beneath the thin fabric.

You bite your lip again, your eyes widening slightly as you take in the sight of him. “I don’t … I don’t know if I’ll be good at this,” you admit, your voice wavering with uncertainty.

Lewis reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft, reassuring. “You don’t have to be perfect,” he says gently. “Just listen to me, and I’ll tell you what feels good. Okay?”

You nod, your nerves still there, but there’s a determination in your gaze now, a desire to learn, to please him the way he pleased you. Slowly, you reach for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down carefully, and Lewis lets out a low breath as he’s freed from the confines of the fabric.

For a moment, you just stare, your hand hovering uncertainly above him. “It’s … bigger than I thought,” you murmur, and Lewis can’t help but grin at your honesty.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. “You’ll get used to it.”

You look up at him, biting your lip nervously, and Lewis reaches down, taking your hand in his. He guides it to him, his breath hitching slightly as your fingers wrap around him, tentative but curious.

“Like this?” You ask, your voice small, unsure.

Lewis closes his eyes briefly, feeling the warmth of your hand around him, the softness of your touch. “Yeah,” he breathes, his voice rougher now. “Just like that.”

You start slow, your hand moving tentatively at first, feeling your way through the unfamiliar motions. Lewis watches you, his breath deepening as you grow more confident, your movements becoming more fluid. He can see the concentration on your face, the way you’re so focused on getting it right, and it only makes him want you more.

“Am I doing it okay?” You ask, glancing up at him, your eyes wide, seeking approval.

Lewis groans softly, his hand moving to rest on the back of your neck. “You’re doing perfect,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “Just keep going.”

You bite your lip again, nodding slightly as your hand moves faster, finding a rhythm. Lewis’ breath hitches, his body tensing slightly as the pleasure starts to build. He’s trying to stay in control, to guide you, but you’re learning quickly, and the way your touch feels — tentative yet eager — is driving him wild.

“You’re so good at this,” he murmurs, his hand tightening slightly on the back of your neck, encouraging you. “Just like that.”

Your cheeks flush at his praise, and you seem to grow even more confident, your movements more sure. Lewis can feel his control slipping, the pleasure coiling tight in his gut, but he doesn’t want to rush this. He wants you to feel how much he’s enjoying it, how good you’re making him feel.

“Do you want to use your mouth?” He asks, his voice low, rough with desire. “I can show you how.”

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes widening slightly at the suggestion, but then you nod. “Yes,” you whisper. “Show me.”

Lewis shifts, adjusting himself so that you have better access, and he cups your cheek gently, guiding you closer. “Just start slow,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Don’t worry about being perfect. Just take your time.”

You nod, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you lean in, your lips brushing against him tentatively at first. Lewis groans softly, his hand tightening on the back of your neck, but he’s careful not to push you too hard. He wants you to move at your own pace, to find your own rhythm.

You open your mouth, taking him in slowly, and Lewis’ breath hitches, his body tensing as the warmth of your mouth surrounds him. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “You feel so good.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide, and he can see the uncertainty there, but also the desire to please him. He groans, his hand guiding you gently, showing you how to move, how to take him deeper, how to use your tongue.

“Just like that,” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “You’re doing so good, love.”

You follow his lead, your movements slow and tentative at first, but you’re learning quickly, finding a rhythm that has Lewis’ breath coming in shallow gasps. He can feel his control slipping, the pleasure coiling tighter with each passing moment.

He’s never felt anything like this — the combination of your innocence, your eagerness to learn, and the way you look up at him, eyes wide and full of curiosity — it’s intoxicating.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hand tightening on the back of your neck as you take him deeper, your mouth moving in perfect rhythm with his guidance. “You’re gonna make me come if you continue doing that.”

You pause for a moment, looking up at him with wide eyes, and Lewis chuckles softly, his hand brushing through your hair. “Keep going,” he says, his voice low and rough. “I want you to finish me off.”

You nod slightly, your lips sliding back down over him, and Lewis can’t hold back the groan that escapes his lips. The pleasure is building fast, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer, not with the way you’re moving, the way you’re looking at him like you’re determined to please him.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, his hand tightening in your hair as the pleasure coils tight in his gut. “Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

You take him deeper, your mouth working in perfect rhythm, and Lewis can feel the tension building, the pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave. He groans loudly, his body tensing as he reaches the edge.

“God, I’m gonna come,” he gasps, his hand tightening in your hair. “You should stop if you don’t want to swallow-”

But you don’t stop. Instead, you push even further, taking him deeper into your mouth, your movements growing more confident, more determined. Your tongue swirls around him, your hand stroking in time with your lips, and Lewis feels his control shatter.

He’s never felt anything like this — your eagerness, your willingness to please him, the way you’re pushing yourself to learn and to give him everything he needs. It’s overwhelming, and it sends him spiraling over the edge.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back, his eyes closing as the pleasure crashes over him in waves. His body tenses, his muscles locking up as he comes, the intensity of it almost too much to handle.

You don’t pull away. You keep going, your mouth and hand working together to draw out every last bit of his orgasm, your movements steady and sure. He can feel the way you’re trying to take everything, the way you’re pushing yourself, and it drives him wild.

He’s gasping for breath, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his release, and he forces himself to open his eyes, to look down at you. You’re still there, your eyes locked on his, a mixture of determination and curiosity in your gaze.

“God, you’re amazing,” he breathes, his voice rough and unsteady. He gently pulls you away, his hands cupping your cheeks, guiding you up to his level. “You didn’t have to do all that, you know.”

You bite your lip, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I wanted to,” you say softly. “I wanted to make you feel good.”

Lewis’s heart swells at your words, the sincerity in your voice. He leans in, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your lips, and it only makes him want you more. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

“You did,” he murmurs against your lips. “You made me feel incredible. You’re incredible.”

You blush, the color rising in your cheeks, and Lewis can’t help but smile. There’s something so genuine about you, so unaffected by everything that’s happened. It makes him want to protect you, to show you that you’re safe with him, that you can trust him.

He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, his expression softening. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “For trusting me. For letting me be the one to show you this.”

You smile shyly, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “Thank you for being so patient,” you reply. “For making me feel … good.”

Lewis chuckles softly, his hand brushing through your hair. “I’d say we both came out of this feeling pretty good,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye.

You laugh, the sound light and carefree, and it’s like music to his ears. He kisses you again, slow and tender, savoring the moment. There’s a warmth between you now, a connection that wasn’t there before, and it feels like the start of something new, something real.

As the night wears on, you stay wrapped in each other’s arms, talking and laughing, the intimacy of the moment lingering between you. In the back of his mind, Lewis knows that this is just the beginning, that there’s so much more to explore, so much more to learn about each other. And he can’t wait to do so.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Cheerleaders + Football Team

The thing about cheerleaders and the infamous football team is that they’re quite accurate to their stereotypes

Now not every cheerleader team is run by a head girl who’s a massive bully 

Or that the football team is filled with dumb jocks that are just as violent if not worse

But they’re nothing to scoff at 

They’re beautiful

They’re athletic

And they're disciplined with confidence that comes with successful games and competitions

Such perks might give them quite a bit of power

Power that’s doubled when they’re working together

If you’d like to be happy you’re better off not figuring out just yet 

Since your arrival to the University, you’ve noticed more of your things have gone missing

Maybe this move made you more frazzled than you thought

Because you’ve found that you haven’t been able to keep friends like you used to

At least not without some help

“So you’re the new student, huh? Welcome to Energi University. As cheer captain, I’m really happy to welcome you finally!”

As she drags you along throughout your schedule, you’re waiting for the punch line

The moment she switches to embarrass you or smile coyly as she says something underhanded about your appearance

But she doesn’t 

Only twirling her hair as she asks you where you learned to glow like you do

You find it odd but you’re not complaining

Movies taught you that she and her team were top of the food chain 

so if they liked you enough maybe it’d trickle to some friends eventually

“Looking for a partner? Me too. How about we uh work together, freshie. If we finish before class ends you can have my varsity jacket and I can have yours.”

It seems it works as the beefy but beautiful captain of the football team partners up during chemistry

Between the two captains, you think you’re making progress

Finally beginning to make friends

But you couldn’t be farther from the truth

Already you were skipping right into the pitfall that was their playground—Energi University

It started with the cheerleader’s captain, gorgeous, rich, and with a serious attitude problem

She was making her daily rounds with her two main girls

‘Putting the worms in their place’ as she’d report to her team

Until she found something interesting 

a glasses-wearing nerd had been holding a file, scrolling through someone’s social page with such dedication they didn’t even realize they were being cornered

And its not just someone—you

while her girls were exploring the use of pins on the human body, she was going through this fairly thick file

A file all about you

Filled with hundreds of pictures of you some with consent some not

Extensive organized lists of your likes and dislikes

And a neat report on your current whereabouts and social circle

By the end of it, she was intrigued

She’s never been one for reading but she just can’t put it down

Having to be brought back into the real world when her girls are done playing 

“Already? Ugh, let’s go find the next one this little report of his might be worth selling to those stupid jocks.”

That’s just an excuse 

she’s combing over your photos again as she re-reads about the mundane drama in your life

“Babe, I thought you said you wanted to spend time with me? Not lose braincells studying!” 

Her boyfriend–captain of the football team is trying to draw her attention with kisses and inviting touches

But she’s just too focused

Eventually, he’s going to snatch it all away, taking a look at it

“Who’s this? Your latest victim?”

“Puhlease they don’t even know me…yet.”

The nights they spend together is searching you on socials as they filter through these words about your world

There’s just something about you that has them enraptured

For them it’s like when they first started dating, running off from their teams to gush about their latest finds about you

Texting all through the night about schemes to meet you

Whispering on the bus on their way to seasonal competitions

It isn’t long before the nosey teams start poking around

All it takes is a whispered mention of your name and they’re stalking your socials 

Some hire private investigators to tell all they can get their hands on

It’s like a virus how the whole team is eventually letting your distant lovely little life take up all of theirs 

At some point words and posts just aren’t enough

“Yo Cap, why don’t we just get them to come here?”

“Yeah! I know I can get my dad to extend a scholarship and dormitory if something happens at their old school.”

“Hmm, I do still have those lighter fluid canisters.”

“Oooh and I can get them out of the dorms for awhile!”

“Then  we can swoop in and be the knight’s of shining armor they’ll need!”

“C’mon, captain! Let’s bring them home, aren’t you tired of looking at them through the screen?”

“Don’t you think it’d boost our morale for the championship?”

“Yeah!!” Pleaassee!?”

What terrible captains they’d be if they let their teams down now

So the plan is set, you conveniently are stood up on a date when your dorm and campus is burnt down killing so many friends you made+

The mysterious fire destroying their security footage and all your belongings too 

Its natural you start looking for a new college, a safer option

“Hey (Y/n) why don’t you come to our next game? Forget about that horrible fire and cheer us on!”

“Wait how did you know–”

“Grapevine cutie! Now what do you say to a sleepover!?”

“Not after we do our victory party!”

“Oh, you’ll have to try our captain’s famous jello shot! It’s going to knock your clothes+ socks off.”

Both Captains will watch happily as the group swarms you 

Your questions about the slug you made plans with prior were drowned out in their shouting and giggling

Their goal wasn’t to make you worry 

After all, they had the power to dissolve all of that 

The Captains and their teams

“Now that we have them I don’t see any reason, why our teams won’t be planned for an all-around victory in the nationals.”

“Of course, though we could do it without them. Money and pure talent are a given for people like us.”

“Still there’s nothing wrong with sharing a good luck charm.”

“You are absolutely right..”

“Aren’t I always? That being said we’ll have to talk about the…hoarding issue.”

“Oh yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. The next time one of your cheerleaders interrupts me, they’ll be dealing with more than broken legs.”

“And your players should know the next time they take my time with (Y/n) away they won’t just become paralyzed.”

[ozzgin]

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Asylum Spider]

A/N: This feels a little bit strange to post. It's an older OC (the drawing I used is like 3 years old) I had for a horror manga. I thought it would make a good yandere if you're into actual monsters. And the atmosphere is a lot like an indie horror rpg. :)

You wake up in a damp, dark room with no recollection of how you ended up here. Hovering above you is a repugnant beast whose appearance terrifies you into silence. Yet it doesn’t attack you. Quite the opposite, it seems to want to guide you outside. You must escape quickly, as whatever lurks above causes the creature to squirm in fear. Yet as departure approaches, a desire blooms within its ancient heart: must you really leave it behind?

TW: Monsters, horror, implied violence/abuse

Your vision is blurry and your head is throbbing with a harrowing, unbearable headache. You've been awakened from your unexplainable slumber by cold yet burning drops of liquid hitting your cheek at irregular intervals. You squint and try to focus on whatever lies before you. Slowly, the object becomes sharper and your eyes widen in terror. Drooling above you, a monstrosity. It looks almost human. Sharp, curved teeth are grotesquely gawking their way out. The skin is discolored, similar to the blueish tint of someone struck by hypothermia. The creature seems to be wearing a strange sort of straight jacket, tightly securing the arms and ending in a shredded rag, dangling between the skinny, crooked legs. Yet the most disturbing feature are the massive arthropod appendages that fan out from behind, suspending the abomination above ground.

The ridiculous, offensive sight drains the blood from your face and you hold your breath. You wait for the final blow that never arrives. It lowers its head and inhales deeply, trying to detect if you're still alive. Satisfied with the answer, it scurries aside and leaves you enough space to lift yourself up. The wide smile remains plastered on its face, making it look like a deformed mannequin. With nothing left to lose, you decide to risk it. "Can you talk?" you mumble, unsure about the potential response. It shakes its head in denial and you raise your eyebrows. So it can understand human speech.

You stand up and look around. There's a pungent smell irritating your nostrils, and large pipes slither their way over walls and ceilings in a maze of rusted metal. The floor is flooded and your ankles are sunken in murky water. Above the only door hangs an old plaque, eaten by mold and age. "W∎ter & Drain∎∎∎: Pro∎∎rty of ∎∎∎∎∎ Asylum". Ah. This must be the sewers, then. How did you even end up in the sewers of an asylum? Maybe someone upstairs can provide you with answers. You turn to the creature that has been obediently observing you.

"Can you take me to the main building?"

The humanoid spider screeches and trashes its appendages across the water. You jolt and step back instinctively. Is it mad? Have you upset it somehow? No, if anything, it looks afraid. You stare at its bizarre convulsions until it occurs to you the movements aren't quite as erratic as you assumed. It is drawing something using a swamped patch of ground.

Don't let find you Get out

You're choking with dread again. The ominous words send a cold chill down your spine and you shiver, helpless.

"How am I supposed to get out if I don't know where the exit is?" You demand with your last ounce of energy. 

It wobbles its way towards the door, and stops to face you expectantly. Is it offering to guide you? You're not quite sure whether to trust the ghoulish creature, but the rotting room is filling you with panic. 

Anything is better than being alone here. 

What a suffocating atmosphere. The corridors are tall, narrow and black. You can barely discern anything around you and the only sounds are the ghastly echoes of the metal creaking and bending from the water pressure. That, and your uncertain steps across the muddy flow. You glance at the creature. Its eyes are covered by a leather blindfold, so the darkness mustn't be an impediment for it. Then again, how can it tell its way within this colossal labyrinth?

"Is this where you live?" you whisper, trying to make conversation. You need something to distract you from your pounding heart.

It nods hesitantly. 

Your foot hits something and you instinctively attempt to kick it off. Perhaps some algae that begun developing in this forgotten grave. It seems to have wrapped around your ankle, so you bend down to remove it with your hands. It's a soaked sheet of paper. The ink has mostly diffused into the page, but you can still read some of the larger headlines. "Dozens have disappeared. The mystery of the abandoned Asylum, believed to be haunted by the countless victims of horrid experimentation". Next to the title is a photograph too smudged to make out.

You stop in your tracks, focused on the blurry letters. The monster patiently waits for you. Is it something to be asked? You gaze up at its features, trying to take in the details. You take a deep breath in and open your mouth. 

"Did they...um...do this to you upstairs?"

It seems to ponder your question with the same unfaltering grin that now feels painfully forced. Finally, it nods.

What a strange little creature you are. He returns your curious stare. Now that he thinks about it, you must be the very first person to follow him. When was the last time he spoke to another living creature? He can't remember. The others would panic beyond control at the mere sight of him, blindly running away and getting lost in the sewers. Later he'd find their bodies quickly decomposing under the running water, and he'd dispose of them outside. No one deserves to die here. The really unfortunate ones made it upstairs, into the asylum. He'd rather not brood over it. 

Yet here you are, asking questions and walking alongside him as if you were on a stroll. He doubts he's gotten less hideous over the years. Then again, he can't see to confirm. Just as he can't see you. Despite his lack of vision, he is overwhelmed by the feeling that you're a beautiful being. You must be. And thankfully, you won't have to worry yourself with any of the horrors lurking these cursed grounds for much longer. He'll help you escape.

Then he'll be alone once more. It shouldn't bother him this much, it's always been like this. But meeting you has reminded him just how much he missed the presence of another human, how dearly he longed for a kind voice. Is it selfish to fear isolation? 

"Oh! You're right, I can see a gate from here." You exclaim in gratitude. 

You sprint towards the rusty bars and feel a cool breeze against your skin. This must lead outside. The creature has kept its word. Soon enough all of this will be a nightmare of the past.

"I-" 

The monster seems to be making an effort to speak, but all that comes out is a dissonant croak. You're confused and he can sense it. 

Must you really leave him behind? He needs to let you know that he'd like to stay with you, but his throat is contracting pointlessly and there's nothing he can use as a writing surface. What is there to do? His chest is tightening with the frenzied desire to keep you with him forever.

Please don't leave him.

[pearlesscentt]

kitchen floor picnic

it was finals week, or hell week as you’d affectionately call it, and due to the onslaught of deadlines, everything was in shambles. good thing, you have your boyfriend to weather that cyclone with you.

mingyu x reader, college!au, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k words

in contrast to science, sound traveled faster than light—literally at that very moment.

when MINGYU opened the door to your studio apartment, it was pitch black, and all he could hear were your soft snores and the whirring of the dinky air conditioner. he started walking in blindly, worried about waking you up if he dared to turn on the lights, so he just clutched the paper bag full of groceries and hoped for the best.

his luck seemed to run out within a few seconds, as it wasn't long before he tripped over something hard, making him yelp in pain.

“shit,” he cursed under his breath. when the noise registered, his head immediately snapped in your direction, and he sighed in relief when you remained fast asleep. he kneeled down to clutch the toe he had stubbed and reached for his phone. he fumbled with it before eventually clicking on the torch, realizing he tripped over your bicycle helmet lying haphazardly in the hallway.

she must've tossed it on the floor from exhaustion, he thought, picking it up to hang it on one of the hooks on the wall.

it was finals week, or hell week as you’d affectionately call it. “i might not survive,” you told him at the beginning of the week during an afternoon at the library. “in our next life, remind me never to study architecture. this is torture, i will never put myself through this again,” you groaned dramatically.

he reassured you of everything you were capable of because he knew by now that the theatrics were just a part of your process for acing your classes. if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that you were an exceptional student. that was why he could only chuckle as you spent the next fifteen minutes complaining about your program while also perfectly tracing the pencil marks with ease on the plan you were working on.

which brings MINGYU to his current predicament: he was standing in the middle of your apartment, unsure of what to do next. he turned on the downlights from the kitchen. it was still dark enough to not disturb your sleep, while being bright enough for him to see the current state of your place.

it was a mess—even the word felt like an understatement. it was a category 5 tropical cyclone. there were different drawing and drafting materials scattered everywhere, papers of different sizes covering every flat surface he could see, an unfinished scale model perched on top of your desk, a pile of clothes on your unmade bed (indistinguishable whether clean or dirty), and a bunch of empty energy drink cans and instant ramen cups. lastly, there you were on your loveseat sofa, sleeping soundly in a fetal position because of the drawing tube and t-square at the far end of it.

beep, beep, beep.

he flinched at the sound, his gaze shifting to the phone on the coffee table as it lit up due to the alarm. power nap alarm, he knew immediately. you moved in your sleep, reaching to turn it off.

after a few moments, you sat up, stretching your arms out. MINGYU watched, he couldn’t help but smile at how adorable you looked with your messy hair. soon enough, your eyes darted in his direction.

“hi,” he whispered with a little wave.

you furrowed your brows and blinked at him. it felt like an eternity before you spoke up, “shit, i’m hallucinating.”

“uh, i’m really here, babe.”

“gyu?”

“mhm.”

“gyu!” your face lit up in recognition. standing up to make your way to him, you were quick but careful not to step on any of the clutter on the floor. “you’re really here.”

he opened his arms for you and gave you a warm hug. he rested his cheek on the top of your head as you melted into the embrace.

“why are you here?” you asked against his chest.

“for an intervention,” he joked before kissing your forehead. “i’m here to make you real food.”

judging by the state of your place, you had been living off instant ramen, any caffeinated drink you could find, and whatever was on sale in the nearby convenience store. your stomach growled for some real food.

“go do your thing while i cook,” he said with a laugh.

nodding, you settled on the floor by the coffee table and grabbed a technical pen nearby. you drew some finishing touches on the plan, continuing where you left off earlier before your nap.

it took about 30 minutes, using the shuffling sounds from the kitchen as your white noise while you were laser-focused on your task at hand.

“babe, time for dinner,” he called out softly.

when you looked over, he was holding two plates of what looked like katsu curry and rice with a proud smile on his face. suddenly, you wondered: where are we gonna eat?

noticing the change in your expression, he said, “hey, it’s fine, we could just eat here.”

“eat where?” you asked, walking over to him. even the small island in the kitchen was full of papers, you didn't even know which ones were important anymore; while the counter space between the single burner stove and the sink was not enough for both of you to eat comfortably.

“here.”

you raised your eyebrows at him while he placed both plates on the counter. then, he went toward the round dining table and retrieved two placemats from underneath a different set of papers.

“let’s eat here,” he said, placing the placemats on the floor, “like a picnic.”

frozen in place, you stood in front of him, still confused.

“don’t worry, i mopped earlier while i was waiting for this to simmer.” he took the plates again and motioned for you to sit. “we have picnics on the grass at the park and on the sand at the beach all the time, what difference does your kitchen floor make?”

with nothing to counter his argument, you obliged. you sat down cross-legged and used the counter behind you as a backrest. MINGYU followed suit, placing your respective plates on the placemats in front of you.

“are you sure you have time for this?”

“for sharing a meal with you? always.” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to place a kiss on your temple. “besides, i've already finished all my exams earlier.”

you raised your eyebrows, thinking about the days; it was just last week when you shared schedules with each other to stay informed in case the workload made it hard to give updates.

“i’m sorry, i forgot your schedule,” you sighed in defeat. your eyes misty as you turned to face him, a pang of guilt starting to consume you. “you had mine memorized, but i couldn’t even recall yours.”

“hey, it's okay, i understand.”

“but still…”

“but still—nothing.” he shook his head to assure you, “we’re not here to keep score, baby. we're here to take care of each other. now, let’s eat, hm?”

as you took the first bite, warmth radiated through your body. sure, the food was good, but it was MINGYU’s steadfast presence that calmed your storms. the onslaught of deadlines and exams was eased by his unwavering love and care.

in the dim light of the kitchen, amidst the scattered papers and unfinished projects, you felt a profound sense of peace. not because he made the cyclone disappear, but because he was there to weather it with you.

author's note: just a little something bc i'm so soft for mingyu's acts of service and bc i missed writing here :(

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[casuallyimagining]

refuge | xmh

xu minghao x reader

"they're so loud." genre: fluff | wc: 592 | warnings: none

For the briefest of moments, the sound of laughter and old friends reminiscing bubbles up and punctures your quiet little hideaway outside. It’s a little chilly–autumn finally has the early October nights in its clutches–but you managed to turn on the small fire table before settling into a corner of the wicker sofa with your book. The noise dies down with the sound of the patio door sliding shut, and it takes only a moment more for the cause to appear.

Minghao leans down, presses a kiss into your hair, and hums at the warmth that the fire table gives off. “You’re quite cozy out here,” he notes, settling down into the space beside you. “I brought you some tea.”

You take the offered cup gratefully, setting your book down spine-up in your lap. “You lasted far longer in there than I expected.”

“They’re so loud,” he whines, a pained look crossing his face. 

“You love them.”

Just then, as if to punctuate his point, you can hear shouting from inside. Vaguely, you can make out Seungkwan’s voice. Hao looks at you flatly, as if to say ‘see?’

You bat at his chest playfully and you both laugh. It fades to quiet after a moment, and the silence of the night envelops you again. You pick your book back up and lean forward to set your mug on the edge of the fire table before cozying back into the sofa. Hao moves over, almost imperceptibly, but you can feel his body pressing into your side, and you wrap an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer.

Beside you, you can feel Minghao relax, his breathing evening out as he drifts into his thoughts. You let your focus fall back into your book, and for a while, you sit there together, completely at peace.

“We should get one of these for the balcony.” Hao’s voice is soft, and when you look up, he’s staring into the fire.

“Add it to the list.”

And he smiles. A soft, shy little thing that he tries to hide behind his cup of tea. The two of you have been half-joking about moving in together for months. It’s not the right time for either of you–he’s busy and your lease is nowhere near up–but the promise of more keeps you going.

The noise bubbles up again as the door opens, and Soonyoung’s voice punches out into the night. “Minghao! Come back inside and play with us! Vernon went to sleep and we need even teams.”

Hao shoots you a pointed look. “Loud,” he repeats, just loud enough for you to hear. 

You giggle. “Go in and spend time with your friends.” You kiss him quickly, his soft lips moulding against yours for the briefest of moments. “I’ll be in soon. I just want to finish this chapter.”

“Minghao!” Soonyoung yells again, and even without looking at him, you can tell he’s taken a step outside toward the two of you.

Hao rolls his eyes and kisses you quickly before standing. He takes his teacup with him. “I will give you 5 million won to forget my name,” he tells Soonyoung, and the older man giggles like a deranged toddler. 

The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you watch your partner disappear into the house. The night once again goes silent. You know he’s not always up for the raucous energy of his 12 chaotic brothers, but you’re always happy to be here when it gets too much. You’ll never tire of being his refuge.

minghao has really dug himself into the soft spot in my heart recently. I love him a whole lot, and I need more minghao content in my life. if you've got any recs, send them my way, but in the meantime, let me know what you thought of this, maybe?

[spicymambaae]

Bangkok Nights: Secret Longings

It was already late at night in Bangkok. The city hummed with an undercurrent of energy, even at this hour. Neon lights flickered outside, casting a colorful glow into the hotel room where Minjeong was leaning against the wall, scrolling through her phone. She was dressed in jorts, a crop top that barely covered her chest, and a white, long-sleeved unbuttoned blouse, her perfect flat tummy exposed. The day's schedule had been grueling, but now she was finally back, trying to unwind.

As she scrolled through her social media, her mind wandered to Karina, who had also been busy with her own schedules. Minjeong hoped that Karina would return soon; she longed to feel her presence after a tiring day.

Just as her thoughts drifted, the door creaked open quietly, and Karina stepped inside, her gaze immediately falling on Minjeong. A smile tugged at her lips as she saw her girlfriend still up. "I thought you would be already asleep," Karina whispered, her eyes taking in Minjeong's alluring figure.

Minjeong's eyes sparkled as she saw Karina enter. Her heart fluttered at the sight of her girlfriend, looking as radiant as ever despite the long day. “I wanted to wait for you so we can go to bed together," she replied, her voice laced with affection.

Karina’s heart swelled with love at Minjeong’s words. She approached Minjeong slowly, each step filled with the longing that had built up over the course of their separate schedules. "I missed you all day," she murmured, her hands finding their way to Minjeong's shoulders.

She let her fingers glide down Minjeong's arms, gently sliding the blouse off her shoulders. Karina's eyes lingered on Minjeong's exposed tummy, biting her lip as her fingers traced the smooth skin. She squeezed Minjeong's waist, drawing a soft gasp from her. "You have no idea how much I thought about you today," she whispered, her lips mere inches from Minjeong's.

Their eyes locked, a silent communication passing between them. Minjeong leaned forward, her lips parting to capture Karina's in a kiss, but Karina playfully pulled away, a smirk tugging at her lips. Minjeong smiled, undeterred, and leaned in again, only for Karina to pull away once more, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"You're not making this easy," Minjeong pouted playfully, her lips curling into a smile that mirrored Karina's own.  

"I guess you missed me too," Karina teased, watching as Minjeong's playful pout turned into a mock glare, though her eyes betrayed her amusement.

"Maybe a little," she admitted, her hand finding its way to Karina's face, her fingers caressing it gently.

Karina smirked as she leaned forward, their lips brushing in a tantalizing promise. "Just a little?" she murmured against Minjeong's mouth, her kiss deepening with a hunger that had been building all day. The kiss was full of hunger and lust. They kissed like they couldn’t get enough, like they were starving for the taste of each other.

The room was filled with the sounds of their breaths and the soft, wet sounds of their kisses. The city outside continued its never-ending rhythm, but inside this room, time seemed to stand still.

Minjeong's hands found Karina's waist, but Karina was quick to grab one of them, pinning it against the wall. She wanted to take control, to explore every inch of Minjeong's body at her own pace. She trailed kisses along Minjeong's jawline, down to her neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin.

"Careful," Minjeong whispered breathlessly, her body tingling with the surge of sensations. "We have a photoshoot tomorrow. No marks."

But Karina was beyond caring. Her need for Minjeong clouded her usual rationality. "Let them see," she murmured against Minjeong's skin, her hands roaming lower, cupping Minjeong's backside and pulling their bodies flush against each other. "Let them know you're mine."

Minjeong sighed softly, her resistance slowly melting away in the face of Karina's relentless ministrations. "You're gonna get us in trouble," she whispered, her voice laced with surrender.

Karina paused momentarily, her lips hovering just above Minjeong's skin, her gaze flickering up to meet Minjeong's eyes. "Tell me stop then." she challenged, her tongue flicking out slowly to lick Minjeong's sensitive spot on her neck. She knew all too well that this was her weak spot.

And that was all it took for Minjeong to fully surrender to Karina, letting out a low moan that vibrated on Karina’s lips.

Karina's lips traveled back up to Minjeong's, capturing them in another searing kiss. Minjeong responded eagerly, her body pressing against Karina's. Their tongues tangled and twisted, dancing erotically, tasting and teasing. Lips crushed against each other, soft and full, mouths opening wider as they dive into their intense craving. The heat between them was palpable, an electric current that seemed to spark with every touch. Their kisses grew more feverish, lips bruising under the force of their need for each other. Hands roamed freely, caressing and exploring, fingers tangling in hair and tracing the curves of each other's bodies.

They broke apart briefly, their foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath, their hearts pounding in unison. Minjeong looked into Karina's eyes, her own filled with a mixture of love and lust.

"Please..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Karina smiled, her fingers gently caressing Minjeong's cheek. "I know, baby," she murmured, her lips brushing Minjeong's in a quick, tender peck.

Karina's lips then trailed lower, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin of Minjeong's collarbone. Her hands roamed possessively over her body, claiming every inch as her own. Minjeong arched into the touch, her breath coming in short gasps as Karina's lips continued their descent. Their passion was all-consuming, burning away any inhibitions or concerns about the coming day.

Minjeong's skin tingled with anticipation as Karina's lips hovered over the curve of her breasts. "Karina," she whispered, her voice hoarse with need. Karina's hands moved to Minjeong's crop top, sliding over the soft fabric and feeling the firmness of her breasts. But what surprised her was the absence of a bra; Minjeong's nipples, hard and erect, pebbled against the thin material.

"No bra?" Karina asked, a hint of delight and surprise in her voice. Minjeong just smiled, her eyes half-lidded with desire, inviting Karina to explore further. Karina wasted no time, pulling the crop top down to expose Minjeong's breasts. They were perfect, with rosy nipples that begged for attention.

Karina's thumb found its way to Minjeong's mouth, and Minjeong obediently licked it, making it glisten with her saliva. Karina then used that same thumb to rub Minjeong's hard nipple, teasing it until it was even harder. Minjeong’s breath hitched as Karina lowered her head, taking the neglected nipple into her mouth. She sucked and teased it with her tongue, her eyes never leaving Minjeong's.

Minjeong's hands tangled in Karina's hair, pulling her closer, urging her on as she relished the delicious sensation. Karina suckled and nibbled, her thumb continuing to rub Minjeong's other nipple, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Minjeong arched her back, offering herself fully, her breath catching in her throat as the sensations intensified. Her pussy throbbed with need, aching for Karina's touch.

"God, I love how responsive you are," Karina whispered, her breath hot against Minjeong's skin as she teased her swollen nipple with her tongue. Minjeong was lost in a haze of pleasure, her body on fire. Every touch and lick sent shocks of delight straight to her aching pussy. Karina's mouth trailed kisses across Minjeong's chest, worshipping her breasts, her lips and tongue leaving no inch unexplored.

Minjeong's breath quickened, and her body trembled as Karina's mouth switched between her nipples, sucking and licking them to a peak of sensitivity. "Karina..." she moaned, her voice thick with need. Karina smiled against Minjeong's skin, loving the effect she had on her girlfriend. She continued her sensual assault, her mouth and hands working in tandem to drive Minjeong wild.

The pleasure built within Minjeong, an intense coil of sensation that suddenly snapped, sending her over the edge. Her knees buckled as an intense orgasm washed over her, and would have collapsed on the floor if not for Karina's strong hold on her waist.

"Wow... my God..." Minjeong breathed, her body still trembling as the waves of pleasure receded.

Karina couldn't help but admire how adorable Minjeong looked when she came. As she lowered herself to her knees, she planted kisses all over Minjeong's tummy, licking and nibbling, leaving marks and wet traces as evidence of her hunger for her girlfriend. Her hands roamed lower, dipping into the waistband of Minjeong's jorts. With deft fingers, she unbuttoned and unzipped the shorts, sliding them down Minjeong's legs, revealing her small white bikini.

But what truly took Karina's breath away was the sight that greeted her. Minjeong's bikinis had become transparent from her wetness, the fabric clung to Minjeong’s body, outlining her swollen clit. Karina's mouth watered, and she couldn't resist leaning in to lick through the wet fabric, tasting Minjeong's essence. Minjeong gasped at the sensation, her hands roaming the wall for support as her knees weakened once again.

“I can’t wait to taste your delicious pussy,” Karina murmured with her raspy voice. With gentle fingers, she hooked into the waistband of the panties and slowly pulled them down, revealing Minjeong's smooth, shaved pussy. Karina inhaled sharply, her mouth watering at the sight of Minjeong's folds.

She placed soft kisses on her inner thighs, her breath tickling the sensitive skin. Minjeong whimpered, her legs shaking as Karina's lips hovered tantalizingly close to her pussy.

"Please, Karina," she begged, her eyes pleading to finally feel her girlfriend’s tongue.

Karina gently spread Minjeong's legs wider, exposing her glistening folds. She blew a soft breath over Minjeong's pussy, making her shiver and whine softly.

Finally, Karina closed her lips around Minjeong's clit, sucking gently and swirling her tongue over the sensitive bud. Minjeong cried out, her hands gripping Karina's shoulders as pleasure washed over her. Karina moaned softly, the vibrations of her voice sending shivers through Minjeong's body. She continued her oral assault, licking and sucking Minjeong's sweet nectar, her hands gently caressing Minjeong's thighs and stomach.

Minjeong writhed and moaned. "I love it when you lick my pussy," she panted, encouraging Karina to continue her delicious torture.

Hearing Minjeong's words, Karina paused, looking up at Minjeong with a playful glint in her eyes as she nibbled on her clit. "I love your taste. I could eat your pussy all night," she said breathlessly.

Karina took Minjeong's leg and placed it on her shoulder, inviting Minjeong to grind her pussy on her tongue. "Grind your pussy on my tongue, baby. I know you want to," she teased, her eyes dark with lust. Minjeong was incredibly turned on, and she obliged, placing her hand on Karina's head and slowly grinding her pussy on Karina's tongue.

This was Minjeong’s favorite view—Karina on her knees, her pretty face buried in her pussy, her sparkling big eyes looking up at her as her tongue flicked and teased her clit. "I love your mouth so fucking much, please don't stop," Minjeong gasped, her hips moving faster, her wetness coating Karina's face.

Karina was drunk on Minjeong's taste, closing her eyes to savor the moment and the flavor of her girlfriend's arousal. She increased her efforts, sucking harder and flicking her tongue faster over Minjeong's clit. "Cum for me, baby," she moaned, her tongue delving deep into Minjeong's folds, tasting her juices.

Karina drove her tongue deep into Minjeong's tight pussy, fucking her with her mouth. She swirled her tongue inside, coating it with Minjeong's sweet essence, her own chin dripping with Minjeong's wetness. She moaned, the vibrations on her pussy driving Minjeong wild. Karina devoured her pussy, wanting to taste every inch of her.

"Let me see how beautiful you look when I make you cum," she whispered, her tongue never stopping its assault.

Minjeong cried out, her body tensing as an intense orgasm ripped through her. She screamed Karina’s name, her juices flowing onto Karina's tongue.

Karina lapped up Minjeong's sweet release, gently kissing and sucking on her sensitive clit and pussy lips, milking every last drop of cum from her. Minjeong whimpered, her body trembling, her legs weak from the intensity of the orgasm.

Karina helped Minjeong sit down on the floor, pulling her into her lap and holding her close. Minjeong was still breathing heavily, her body still buzzing. Karina held her gently, stroking her hair and whispering soft words of affection.

Minjeong, her voice small and breathless, whispered, "Kiss me," and Karina smiled, gently tilting Minjeong's jaw to the side and capturing her lips in a deep kiss full of want. Minjeong moaned into the kiss, tasting herself on Karina's tongue.

Suddenly, a jolt went through Minjeong's body as Karina's hand inadvertently brushed against her sensitive pussy. "Ouch, too sensitive," she whimpered, and Karina immediately pulled her hand away.

"I'm sorry, baby," she soothed, gently caressing Minjeong's body with feather-light touches. But then, a moment of panic crossed Karina's face, and she muttered, "Oh shit."

Minjeong, sensing something was amiss, turned her head slightly and asked, "What's wrong, baby?"

Karina reached for Minjeong's phone and turned on the front camera, revealing the hickeys that covered Minjeong's body.

Minjeong gasped, her eyes widening at the sight. "You're so dead," she said, a playful threat in her voice.

Karina's face took on a mischievous grin as she realized the extent of her love bites.

"Oops?" she offered, feigning innocence.

Minjeong shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "You know we have a photoshoot tomorrow. How am I supposed to hide these?" she asked, her tone both fond and frustrated.

Karina bit her lip, a hint of guilt in her eyes. She pulled Minjeong closer, burying her face in her neck. "I got carried away," she murmured, her voice muffled against Minjeong's skin. "I couldn't help myself. You taste too good, and your body is just..." she trailed off, pressing a gentle kiss to each hickey, as if to soothe the marks away.

Minjeong laughed softly, her fingers tangling in Karina's hair. "I guess I'll have to try to hide them with make up tomorrow. AGAIN!" she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Or maybe I'll just tell them I walked into a door or something," she added. Karina chuckled, her breath warm on Minjeong's skin.

"Or you could just tell them the truth," she teased, her lips brushing against Minjeong's ear. "That your girlfriend couldn't keep her hands off you."

Minjeong smiled, snuggling closer into Karina's embrace. "I guess they'll have to deal with it," she said, her voice filled with affection. "Besides, who could blame you?" She placed a soft kiss on Karina's jaw, her fingers gently tracing the lines of Karina's face. "I love you," she whispered, her eyes full of love.

Karina held Minjeong tightly. "I love you too,” she replied, placing a soft kiss on Minjeong's forehead. They stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow of their encounter.

Eventually, they would have to face the world and the challenges of hiding the marks, but for now, they existed in their own little bubble, lost in the warmth of their embrace and the sweetness of their love.

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ love yours, roronoa zoro (nsfw)

zoro’s feelings gets stronger for you after you give life to his child.

for the brilliant @noawithlove

you finally managed to put kuina down for the night. with a heavy sigh, you hold your hands on your hips and look down at your sleeping child, swaddled in her pink blanket as she rested in her bassinet. you can’t help but fall asleep standing up, only to jolt back awake when you feel a broad chin rest on your shoulder.

“oh,” you let out a breath once you turn and see zoro. he could physically feel the tense tendons in your body briefly relax, but go back to defensive mode quickly. you were just exhausted, and he could see the effects of motherhood all over you.

“come on,” he mutters in your ear, slowly running his hands along the curves of your waist before disappearing right after. “come shower with me.” you turn around to see his reflection in a piece of the bathroom mirror.

the water is hot. steaming enough to soften the muscles in your back just a bit. you’ve been out of it the past few months, zoro could see it. the glimmer in your eyes he’d been so used to was slowly dimming away, even when you held kuina in your arms.

he knew how much child birth took out of you. all the nutrients and energy you’ve lost in the past four months, he could see it all in the paling of your normally colored skin, the dark circles forming around your eyes, and even something as small as the slight tremble in your body every time you moved. giving birth took a lot out of you.

you allow zoro to grab your wash cloth and soap it before briefly running over the terrain of your body. he spends longer time than usual going over your chest, and you don’t miss the way his fingers take their time across the pebbles of your nipples.

“you’re staring awfully hard?” you can’t help but tease him with a lazy smile. you were glad to have him home. you weren’t alone anymore. “you got a crush on me or somethin’, marimo?”

zoro’s face immediately turns red at you catching him in the act of staring and he kisses his teeth, finishing his work against your body. he leans down and begins on your legs with a quick, “shut up.” leaving his lips. “just look pretty is all.” he loved how quick he was able to get you to be yourself again. your funny self that played entirely too much with him.

you didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but you did anyway. your round eyes go big as you look down at the top of his head, one so close to between your legs. “really? you think so?”

this causes zoro to stand back on his feet and scoff. “course you are. couldn’t stop staring at your fine ass since i got home.” his frame so easily towers over you as he pulls your naked body close to his. “gimme kiss,” his voice is low and smooth.

your body draws over to his like a natural magnetic forcefield. when your lips press against his, zoro takes his time feeling all over your body, leaving no part of you untouched or unloved. “want me to prove it to you?”

you playfully roll your eyes and hold your hand up to him. “i think the little gremlin sleeping in the bassinet outside is enough proof you’ve given me.”

zoro grabs your hand and moves it out his way to kiss your lips. “you keep being smart and i’ll make you a mommy again,” zoro mutters against you. “open your legs and turn around.”

a gasp leaves you as zoro grows impatient and presses you against the cold wall himself. snaking his hand around to your front, he effortlessly plays with your clit while pestering small kisses to the nape of your neck. the little hairs at the back of your head lay flat as you feel his tongue run against them, licking you all over.

you didn’t understand how much this man loved you. he’d live in your fucking skin if he could. zoro takes his time licking down your body, and before you knew it, you were wet enough for him to easily slide himself between your folds.

you’re taken aback by how big he is. you’ve been used to his size for years, but you can’t remember the last time you’ve actively felt such a stretch in your cunt, and one this good at that. a small yelp escapes from your lips as zoro finally moves back and forward against you.

“zoro,” you whisper, eyes shutting from the immense pleasure. “faster, please.”

“sure your walls can handle that, baby?” zoro teases, but obeys your wish anyway. a smirk curls on his lips as he grips your fat tit in his hand, giving it a tight squeeze while his pace increased. “not still sore are you?”

you immediately shake your head at his question, wanting him to do nothing but slut you out for tonight. you only got a few hours before kuina woke up, and if you had to use it to get dick, then so be it!

“not gonna go easy on you,” zoro egged. “you’re gonna stay against this wall and take every inch of dick i give you like the good girl i know you are. got that?” you groan at the warm sensation of his tip hitting your cervix. words are barely able to leave your mouth as zoro speeds up his pace. you didn’t even have to do anything; he practically held your body up against the wall while he did all the work.

the swordsman wanted nothing than to be close to you, and that much showed in the way his chest was practically glued to your back. at this angle, zoro was able to hit places in your walls that you didn’t think he could ever touch. but nothing was impossible when it came to pleasuring you. he was gripping you all over, by your hair, keeping his arm around your neck in a slight chokehold, even down to your waist that he refused to let go of.

you feel yourself about to cum with the intense pressure of the hot water falling on your sides and zoro’s masculine grunts singing like music to your ears. it was amazing how everything in the outside world; outside of you and zoro were able to overstimulate you so fast. but with the steam of the bathroom heating up and the knotting feeling forming between your legs, you didn’t know where to keep your attention.

you can’t help but smile contently against the cold tile wall as you let zoro do whatever he wanted to you. over the sound of your man’s strained grunts, you softly let out, “know what i said earlier, but don’t you get me pregnant again, marimo. cuz this one’s going upstairs if you do.”

zoro can’t help but let out a humorous chuckle at your comment. this doesn’t slow his possessive thrusts though. “can’t promise it, mama.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

So I 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your casual arrangement turns a bit too serious.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“It was great to talk,” you shake Nick’s hand. “I’ll send you the details?” 

“Wonderful,” he squeezes as his lips slant in his characteristic half-smirk. His eyes remind you of another bold blue pair but you’re trying not to think of him. “I look forward to doing business together.” 

“Let’s aim for a follow-up next week. Make sure everything’s on track,” you confirm. 

“I like that. Very straight to the point,” he muses. 

“As nice a company-paid dinner is, I’m sure you’re dying to get home,” you say. 

“Maybe... if I wasn’t going home alone.”  

You hesitate. His little comments keep popping up. It’s expected. It comes with being a woman. You’ve done your best to ignore them but that one is too pointed to miss. 

“Again, appreciate doing business,” you pull your hand away. “Have a lovely night.” 

“Maybe next time,” he calls after you. 

You walk away, focusing on your posture as you keep rigid. It wouldn’t do any good to show your discomfort. You’re not sure what it is but lately, you’ve been like catnip to men. Something about you is drawing them all in. 

You raise your hand to flag a cab but your arm is caught and pulled back. You yipe as Bucky pulls you to face him. Holy shit!  

“What-- Bucky?! You scared me. You—you scared me.” It’s all you can stutter as your shrill voice scratches in your throat. “God!” You yank on your arm but he keeps a firm grip. You hit his other shoulder with your fist, “let me go. What are you doing?” 

“Who was that, huh? Thought you weren’t looking for anything serious.” He snarls. 

“Ow,” you finally rip your wrist free, rubbing your sleeve as you lean back on your heel. “I’m not. That was a work dinner.” 

“Oh yea? Cause it didn’t sound like just work.” 

“You-- you’ve been watching me?” You accuse. 

“I happened to pass by. Couldn’t help but overhear,” he scoffs. “You sitting there in that dress. I couldn’t look away.” 

“We agreed that this is over,” you insist. 

“I didn’t agree to shit. You pulled the rug out from under me.”  

“What are you talking about?” You bluster hotly. “This was never—it was always going to end. You know that. Why are you complicating this?” 

“Me, complicating it? It didn’t have to end. We were having fun,” he spits. 

“No, I wasn’t. I’m too busy for all that. So are you. I can’t have you stopping by in the middle of the night all the time or—or walking into my office after hours. Don’t you see that it was getting... too much?” You shake your head. 

“Too much? It’s exactly what you wanted. You said you wanted spontaneity. You wanted me. You liked it. All those time when you were under me, you couldn’t get enough. You always begged for more--” 

“Just stop. Bucky, we could be friends, we could hang out but I can’t keep doing that. I don’t have the energy and it’s getting scary.” 

“Scary? Oh so now I’m some monster? Huh?” 

“That’s not what I mean--” 

“No, I get it. You see me and you see this,” he raises his metal hand and wiggles his fingers. “You see what they all see.” He snaps his hand down. “You haven’t even caught a glimpse of what I was.” 

“Why-- why are you doing this? I wasn’t mean. So why--” 

“Doll,” he squares his shoulders and steps closer. He’s never called you that. He’s never been one for petnames when he isn’t buried inside you. “I’m not doing anything. I’m standing here talking to you. But think about what I could do?” He stops and you take another step back. He snorts, “I can your fucking heartbeat. You really think I’d hurt you?” 

“Right now, I don’t know what you’re going to do.” You utter. 

His blue eyes turn dull as his pupils dilate. He gets closer and huffs through his nose, “you won’t even talk to me like I’m a person.” 

“Bucky--” 

“You used me. You treat me like some dog you can throw out.” He takes one step and you take one back.  

“No, we had an understanding. We were just messing around--” 

“You’re messing around!” He barks as your back hits a pole. “And now it’s my turn.” He grins and raises a hand. You wince and he gently caresses your cheek with his knuckles. “You want me to be him, hm? Not Bucky, the other guy. You wanna see him? You wanna see how nice I’ve fucking been.” 

You whimper and shrink down, “please, I’m sorry. I know it was sudden but I thought--” 

He grabs your jaw and squeezes and you whine. Your legs buckle as you brace the iron street pole. 

“You thought fucking wrong. You didn’t think. Not about me.” His fingers tighten and your jaw aches. You slap your hand around his wrist. “Now, you will. I’m not going to let you go. Not forever. Tonight, you get to walk away but you’re going to be thinking of me. You’re going to check over your shoulder, behind your shower curtain, under your desk. You’re going to be watching and waiting for me because, doll, you won’t see me right in front of you and you won’t be able to stop me.” 

You shudder as he lets you go. You cling to the pole to keep from folding into a trembling heap. He stretches his fingers out as he examines his hand and turns to face the traffic. He chuckles as he steps up to the curb and motions for a taxi. You just stand there. 

A cab pulls up and he opens the door, “get home safe, doll. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure no one else bothers you.” 

[solarmorrigan]

For the angst prompt if you’re still doing it:

“Don’t listen to them. Don’t you EVER listen to them.”

Please

Hello! I'm afraid this one might not have come out quite as seriously as the others (might be channeling all my Serious Angst Energy into my ongoing fic at the moment), but hopefully it's enjoyable, anyway??

[No warnings except maybe some unkind self-directed internal dialogue from Steve]

-

“Y’know,” Eddie drawls, looking Steve up and down where he’s standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light of the front hall, “correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look especially busy.”

Steve, caught out in a lie, clearly having been sitting around at home in his sweats when he’d specifically told Eddie that he couldn’t come over tonight because he was busy, does the only thing he can think of: he keeps lying.

“I am,” he says.

“Uh huh.” The way Eddie draws the hum of his agreement out says that he doesn’t believe Steve in the slightest. “And what, if I may ask, are you busy with, dressed in loungewear and sitting at home?”

Scrambling, Steve reaches for the first excuse that comes to mind, something he’d heard his mother say to someone over the phone years ago, when he was still a kid and she’d still made excuses to get out of social engagements and stay home with him.

“I’m washing my hair.”

Eddie bites down on a laugh so quickly and so visibly, Steve is surprised his teeth don’t go right through his lip.

“Are you?” Eddie asks, voice gone high and tight with mirth.

“Yep,” Steve answers.

“Well, damn, I don’t know why you didn’t invite me along to help,” Eddie says, grinning at Steve. “I feel like I’ve proven my skill in that arena before.”

Steve stares at Eddie, mouth working, feeling slow and useless and out of ideas. “Uh…”

With a sigh, Eddie lets his smile drop. “Look, can I come inside?”

The jig is up, so Steve just nods and steps aside to let Eddie in.

“What are you even doing here?” Steve asks as he leads the way back to the living room, where he’d been sitting on the couch and moping.

“Steve, I knew you weren’t busy tonight. You’re kind of a terrible liar,” Eddie says.

And that isn’t strictly true; Steve is a great liar – as long as he doesn’t feel guilty about it. He’s never been good at lying to people he loves.

They sit down; Steve shoves the magazines he’d been pretending he would actually be able to focus on out of the way (more proof of his pathetic attempt at a lie), and Eddie—ever blunt, ever direct—jumps right in.

“So I kind of feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

Steve winces. “Not avoiding you, I’ve just been… limiting my time with you.”

Eddie looks stricken, and Steve would like to die, actually. Why did he phrase it that way?

“Did… I do something, or say something, or, like–”

“No!” Steve rushes to reassure him. “No, no, not at all, it’s nothing you did, you’re amazing, it’s not you, it’s…”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “It’s not me, it’s you?”

“I mean…” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Kind of, yeah.”

For a long moment, Eddie sits, brows furrowed, staring at Steve. Steve fights the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

“I’m trying super hard to figure out what’s going on right now, but I’m kind of coming up blank,” Eddie finally admits. “Are we… Are we breaking up?”

“No!” Steve blurts again, reaching this time for Eddie’s hands, as if he can keep Eddie from realizing what a goddamn idiot he is and leaving if he just holds on tightly enough. “Shit, no, that’s – I’m completely fucking this up, that’s the opposite of what I want to happen, that’s why I’ve been limiting my time with you.”

Though Eddie’s hands have turned in Steve’s grip, automatically holding onto him, he stares at Steve as though he’s lost his mind, which is fair. “Okay,” Eddie says slowly, “I admit you have a little more experience with relationships than I do, but isn’t the point to spend as much time as possible with the person you’re dating? Because you like them?”

“It’s… Usually, I guess, yeah.” Steve shrugs, suddenly wishing maybe that he hadn’t taken Eddie’s hands, because now he can’t get away, can’t duck out from under those dark, searching eyes. He settles for staring down at their joined hands as he speaks. “It’s just – I can be… kind of a lot? I like someone and I just kind of slam my foot on the gas and don’t look back and that’s too much, I know, so I’ve been trying not to, like, overwhelm you, because I really, really don’t want you to get sick of me, and–”

“Who the hell told you that?” Eddie cuts in sharply.

Steve’s eyes snap back up, finding Eddie looking so thoroughly offended that he’s not sure what to make of it. “Told me what?”

“That you’re too much,” Eddie presses, his hands going tighter around Steve’s.

“Uh,” Steve says, uncertain of what kind of answer Eddie’s looking for. The fact that Steve goes all-in too quickly is just common knowledge; the fact that it overwhelms and annoys people is kind of a general consensus.

Eddie shakes his head. “Never mind, it doesn’t even matter. Don’t listen to them. Don’t you ever listen to them,” he says, low and intense. “You’re not going to overwhelm me, Steve. I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you, but the only way I’m gonna know for sure is if I get to have you around as often as possible for as long as you can stand me.”

The words, for a moment, don’t make any sense. No one has ever wanted Steve around that much; no one’s ever met him where he is in terms of hunger for companionship.

“You… want me around that often?” he asks, eyes flicking from Eddie’s face to their hands and back again.

“I want you around all the goddamn time. I want you when I wake up and when I go to sleep and when I’m having breakfast and when I’m doing shit around the house and when I’m playing a show and when I’m watching TV,” Eddie rattles off. “I’m not even exaggerating, it’s honestly kind of a problem.”

“A problem?” Steve asks, brows coming together in concern.

“It’s a problem because you’ve been limiting your time, thinking that I’m going to get tired of you.” Eddie disentangles their hands and reaches up to cup Steve’s jaw, palms soft and a little sweaty from their combined grip, but gentle—almost reverent—against his skin. “Sweetheart, I am never going to get tired of you.”

From anyone else, that would be hard to believe, but the way Eddie looks at him, dead-on and so fucking sincere, Steve can’t help but take the promise in with a hopeful flutter in his chest. He leans forward, pressing his mouth to Eddie’s, keeping the kiss chaste and slow before he pulls back to murmur, “Promise?”

“Promise,” Eddie answers immediately. “I promise, I promise, I promise.”

He tugs Steve forward after that, pushing and pulling him until he’s managed to lay out across the length of the couch and has situated Steve over him, lying on his chest like a weighted blanket. He sighs and wraps his arms around Steve, like he still wants to pull him closer.

“Perfect,” he says.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, balancing his chin Eddie’s sternum so he can smile up at him.

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Now I just have to figure out how to keep you this close all the time.”

“Might be kinda tough,” Steve says, fighting to keep his smile from growing to ridiculous proportions.

“Eh.” Eddie shrugs, ducking down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m willing to take the time to figure it out.”

And somehow, Steve thinks that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to him.

[withlove-xixi]

— ANIMAL INSTINCT: laios x monster!reader

ᥫ cw: monster reader (thats it) ᥫ wc: 2874 ★ the idea came into my head like a prophecy from god lol + take this w a small grain of salt bc i havent actually read dunmeshi yet so idk if there's a monster like this in the story + idk what this type of monster is called? there's a term i know for it, but it's too specific and i kind of want you guys to have the liberty of imagining things (it will make sense in the fic + i explain things in the replies lol) cross posted on ao3

— LAIOS ACCIDENTALLY MAKES A NEW FRIEND

[♡]: laios knows that when he finds the rest of his party, he'll be scolded for getting separated in the first place (undoubtedly by Chilchuck). laios also knows that when he finds the rest of his party, he'll be scolded for dislocating his shoulder (undoubtedly by Marcille). laios also also knows that when he finds the rest of his party, he'll get scolded for bringing back a monster (possibly by everyone).

BEING ALONE IN THE DUNGEON WAS DANGEROUS; it was the thought ringing at the back of Laios' mind as he stumbles around, one arm limp from injuring during his fall and the other clutching onto it lightly, prepared to draw his sword at any given moment. He's not scared though, quite the opposite actually, Laios is excited. It's very rare he gets to explore the dungeon on his own, now he has the freedom to do as he pleases, to study different plant life and architecture, and of course, his favorite, monsters.

His heartbeat accelerates at the thought of running into one as his mind begins to wonder what it might be. Perhaps a new type of slime he hadn't encountered yet, or a rare type of mushroom found only in certain levels, or—

There's a chill that runs down his spine, the echoing voice of Chilchuck in his head telling him to get himself together first before he dies and gets eaten.

With a sigh, Laios listens to the disembodied voice of Chilchuck, dragging him and his belongings away from the rubble to assess the situation first. He took quite the fall, managing only to survive because he was quick enough to use his sword, wedging the blade between the crevices of the dungeon walls and it to slide down a bit, minimizing the intensity of his fall. Though he still dislocated his shoulder, it's nothing a bit of healing magic couldn't fix. And things definitely could’ve gotten worse, he could’ve died when he fell and his party could’ve never found him and he might’ve never been resurrected. Besides, Laios was always one to focus on the silver-lining; for one, he’s finally alone after traveling with his party for nearly weeks. He feels free, finally able to think and do as he pleases, something that’s become a privilege when he travels with his friends (though even now, the chiding voice of Chilchuck echoes in his head again, Laios could almost feel the half-foot’s presence.)

In any case, imaginary Chilchuck is right. If Laios stayed out in the open like this, he’d surely die. So he decides to explore a bit more to find a more secluded area to rest in. His feet take him deeper into the dungeon, into a dark corridor he normally would’ve had no problem going in had he had Marcille’s light, but this time he’s going in blind. Quite literally too. A chill runs through his spine and Laios�� good hand stays on the hilt of his sword, drumming his fingers against it as he continues to walk.

Now more than ever, Laios thinks about the importance of his party, the roles each member plays like cogs in a clock to keep each other safe and move forward in the dungeon. Laios, as happy as he is to have time to himself, misses his party — his friends. He longs for their company, he realizes how cold the confines of the dungeon’s stone walls are now that the warmth of his friends doesn’t surround him. As dejected as he might be about suddenly missing his companions, Laios focuses that energy into finding his way back to them, a newfound determination to make it back safe and go on as little detours as possible.

With perfect timing too because there’s a sudden sharp sound behind him, like the snap of a twig, that makes him instantly draw his sword and turn in the direction. It renders useless however with the way his eyes aren’t able to catch even a speck of light. With an accelerating heartbeat, Laios cautiously moves forward, sensing he's not alone in the dark and something is definitely watching him. He feels the unseen eyes follow his movements. But Laios can tell whatever it is has no intent to harm him, not yet at least, so he continues forward.

Perhaps it’s a small monster, he thinks, though he’s trying to be careful not to let his mind wander too much. Maybe it thinks I’m a predator.

The thought makes his stomach flutter in the slightest, allowing a small smile to grow on his face. It’s the same thought that comforts him as he ventures a bit further for what felt like hours, walking forward and carefully going over rubble before eventually tiring himself out. His limbs feel limp, sluggish even as if he had begun to drag his body to push forward. Lady Luck must’ve been on Laios’ side however — or was it that she took pity on him? — because he found himself in a clearing. The hallway had led to a small residential looking area, dimly lit with just one torch lighting the whole room, a small broken dining table and what seemed to be the remnants of a living space scattered around the vicinity.

Relieved, Laios sets his backpack down, hissing when its weight is shifted onto his bad shoulder. Quickly, Laios digs through his belongings, searching for some spare cloth to create a makeshift sling for his arm, though a small frown grows on his face, his eyebrows furrow and he’s met with disappointment as he realizes he’s not carrying his backpack. A black long sleeved shirt, a pair of socks, lock picking tools … Laios could hear Chilchuck’s angry voice ringing in his head again, scolding him for making the mistake. 

But Laios isn’t one to let these things bring him down. He mutters an unheard apology to Chilchuck as he takes the half-foots shirt, wrapping it over his shoulder and under his forearm, tying it tight enough it’s able to support the weight of his limp arm. It’s a bit too short but it would have to do for now. He winces, but only at the thought of the long sermon Chilchuck would have for him once he reunites with the rest of his party.

For now, Laios pushes the terrible thought of his impending doom away as exhaustion begins to lull him to sleep. He unfurls his (Chilchuck’s) bedroll and sets it near the torch, then he drags his (Chilchuck’s) backpack next to it. His stomach grumbles, a sudden piercing pain that feels like a punch in his gut; it’s his body telling him he’s hungry.

Not to worry! He thinks and mutters a second unheard apology as he begins rummaging through Chilchuck’s belongings for something to eat.

Though the more he digs through various changes of clothes and pouches of things he dare not know what of, Laios grows a bit more frustrated each time he pulls out something inedible. The closest thing he found to food was a small tin flask hidden in a pocket inside the bag; knowing Chilchuck, it was probably alcohol, and knowing Chilchuck, Laios was certain he’d be killed if he drank it. Not that it was tempting though, Laios was hungry after all. And he wasn’t too big of a fan of drinking anyway.

With a sigh, Laios decides the best choice would be to sleep through it and find something to eat in the morning. He grumbles to himself, something about his tummy hurting and how he hated waking up hungry. Regardless, he lays on the bedroll, shutting his eyes tight, ignoring the sounds his stomach is making, and allowing exhaustion to take over his body.

He smells something, it’s what causes his brows to twitch. Laios can’t tell if he’s even slept yet (he assumes he has since he feels less tired), but the smell causes him to stir. It’s something… strange. In a way, it feels familiar, something homey and comforting like the old books he used to love reading or the earthy scent of dewy grass. At the same time, something about it was new, something unique that Laios hadn't encountered before. His curiosity was piqued, though he was half-certain he was still dreaming.

That was until he felt something prod against his lips. Half-asleep and against his better judgment, Laios parts his lips slightly, coaxed by whatever was against them, and feels a warm liquid pour into his mouth. The taste matches whatever smell came before it, something a bit earthy or grassy and there was something else he wouldn't quite decipher. When he swallows and feels its warmth go down his throat, he realizes he is very much not dreaming and sits up, a bit too quickly since his vision immediately blurs. There was a small noise from somewhere in front of him, something he can't quite make out yet because his eyes haven't focused.

He sees something move, a haze of color reaching out towards him. Laios' hand instinctively reaches for where he left his sword before falling asleep, only to find it wasn't there anymore. Before he could do anything else the colors reached his forehead, something warm pressing against his skin gently. Finally his eyes adjust, focusing on the once blurry figure in front of him to see a person.

Laios opens his mouth to speak, but they're pulling their hand off him and reaching for something next to them. Dots begin to connect as Laios realizes they're holding a spoon, a bowl of what he's guessing is soup next to them. The person brings another spoonful of soup to Laios, who, having woken up hungry, cautiously opens his mouth for them to feed.

They smile gently at Laios when he eats it, seemingly admiring the way his face contorts to try and get a feel of the soup's flavor.

"It's good," Laios says when he realizes you're waiting for a response.

To which you smile a bit brighter and reach to grab another spoonful. While you do, Laios ponders on the taste of the soup, which leads to him wondering where you got the soup, which leads to him thinking about you. Who exactly were you?

Curious golden eyes begin to watch you to try and figure out who you were or where you came from — well, tried to begin because he quickly realizes you're naked. Flustered Laios jolts upright, which startles you. A hand reaches out for Laios' forehead again but he averts his gaze and raises a hand at you.

Confused, you tilt your head and Laios, sensing your confusion, vaguely points at your torso. Which only confuses you more; don't humans normally look like this?

With a frown, you crawl towards Laios, hands clasping around his hands to bring them down, coaxing him to slowly turn back towards you, careful not to look anywhere below your neck. You blink at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you not cold?" He asks, slowly like he's worried he'd offend you.

You shake your head and Laios fights the urge to look away again. He looks around the room for a bit before he grabs the blanket from the bedroll and flings it up and around your shoulders.

"At least have this on…" Laios says in a tender manner.

There are lots of questions and thoughts going through Laios' head right now. Who were you? You seemed nice, you didn't try to kill Laios yet, plus you fed him questionable but otherwise tasty soup, but who were you? Were you lost too? Also why were you naked, where were your clothes? If you were lost like him, it doesn't explain the lack of clothes. And where did you get the soup? The room looked like it had a kitchen so maybe it was from there. Oh, did you live here? It would make a bit of sense then, kind of. Also why weren't you talking?

There was the faintest alarm blaring in Laios' head (perhaps his voice of reason, Chilchuck, very furiously reminding him that stranger danger) but curiosity got the best of him, as it usually did. So he asks for your name.

He watches intently as you make gestures with your hands and sound out vowels first before answering. A bit strange, but maybe you just weren't used to talking. If you lived on a floor this deep in the dungeon in a secluded room, it'd make sense.

Laios offers an easy smile. "Do you live here?" He asks, his voice is soft and gentle like he's afraid to scare you.

You pause before nodding. "Some… times." You reply the same way you did with your name, pausing and sounding out the words a bit strange. Maybe you were foreign. He thinks with a curt nod. 

You blink at him before returning back to the soup, carefully feeding Laios another spoonful. He continues to think about the situation, about you, really. It's quite easy to pique Laios' interest, but never something that makes him this curious. You'd have to be a monster to do that.

As he thinks, you continue to feed him, wiping away some of the liquid that spills from his lips. He hums as he thinks, and is only pulled from his thoughts when he realizes you're mimicking the noise.

"Oh, uh, thanks for the soup, by the way. How'd you know I was hungry?" He asks, turning his attention back towards you.

In turn, you tilt your head. "So… Sou…?"

"Soup." Laios finishes for you, pointing at the now empty bowl then at his mouth. "Thanks for that."

He senses your understanding with the way you smile at him. Curious.

"Are you from around here?"

You shake your head. Your mouth opens but swiftly closes like you can't really find the words to use.

Laios flashes you a look of sympathy. "It's okay, take your time."

You hum as you think. "Run… here." You reply after a pause.

"Run…? You escaped? From where?"

You hum again, though your face quickly contorts to frustration as you really can't find any way to verbally explain things to Laios. There's a sound that comes from you, something animal.

Laios opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. "Name?" You ask, pointing at him.

"Oh, it's Laios."

"Here?"

"Here…?"

"Why…? Here why?"

"Oh, uh… I got lost."

The conversation goes on like this, slow and patient. You ask questions to Laios the best you could, learning more about him while he learns more about you.

You're shocked when he suddenly points at a pile across the room. "Yours?" He asks.

He could tell from your face his hunch was right. Your eyes widen, mouth slightly ajar. He notices the slight tremble in your hands, the way you look like you're about to run.

"You aren't human, are you?"

Your lip quivers, panic slowly seeping into your veins as fear begins to settle. You had no idea what would happen next.

"Me— I…" You start, voice faltering. "Human!"

Laios looks at you and you can't tell what face he's making but his eyes are intense, golden and piercing. You swallow and shut your eyes tight. Were you going to die?

There's a shuffle, you sense it's Laios getting up, you fear it's to get his sword. Instead you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"Here." Laios says, pressing something warm against you. "Must be weird being out of your skin."

Slowly you open your eyes. In his hand is this big fabric like sheet, it's thick and there's a strong musk that comes from it; it’s an animal’s hide. Specifically, your hide.

Shakily you take it in both hands. You look up at the tallman cautiously.

"No —" you hum, thinking "— No… hunt?"

Laios shakes his head. "No hunt." He parrots, voice firm yet gentle, it was reassuring in a way. "Is that why you escaped? You were being hunted?"

You nodded. That made sense; after all, monsters of your rarity have become somewhat of a trophy back up on the surface. You must’ve been hunted down before, probably by other adventurers looking to make some more money. 

“I won’t hurt you.” He says so easily it could only be the truth. “I’m… actually really happy to have met you. I’ve heard stories from sailors back then about these seals that could shed their skins and turn into humans. I suppose you’re something like that huh?”

You nod a bit. Then you point at Laios, then back at yourself. “Friend?”

It takes a while for Laios to register what you’re trying to tell him and when he realizes and nearly jumps up, the jolt startles you. “Friends?” He asks, his voice loud and beaming with excitement. “You think we’re friends? You want to be friends?”

You stare at him with furrowed brows before you nod slowly. “Laios friends.”

His hands fly to your shoulders, grabbing you. Confused and a bit frightened, you look back and forth between him and his hands, Laios remains unaware, smiling really brightly at you, his cheeks flushing from sheer excitement.

“I’ve never had a monster friend before!” He tells you, his joy evident in his tone. “You’re my first! Have you had a human friend? Am I your first too? I can’t wait to tell the rest of the party! I’m sure they’ll like you?”

You open your mouth to speak but you’re quickly cut off. “Tell us what, dumbass?”

Oh. Suddenly Laios remembers all the things Chilchuck would scold him for, and he realizes he’s about to add one more thing to that list.

[satans-codpiece]

8 with screamer pls

8) oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

(Implicitly TFP Starscream, post-Partners. Him sneaking around the Nemesis is so good for this.)

----

You thought you were dying; that someone's finally come to kill the High Command's pet human in an idiotic power play-

Until he was shushing you.

"What are you doing here?"

You hadn't seen him in weeks, months-- you still didn't see him as talons had curled together in a protective cup. Until your demand registered in his audials and each towering rod of metal sprung apart.

"ME???" He hisses, optics wide, lighting up the room in scarlet. All around you, his thin digits twitch with indignation. He holds you at chest height, but even here he makes you look up to see him. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm running on fumes out there and-" Starscream's head whips towards the door. All at once the red light that had been bathing you is gone, illuminating dark metal. It takes another several seconds before you hear what had drawn his attention. Footsteps- several in succession. A squad of Vehicons. Were they there for him? You turn back towards him and truly take in his appearance. As bright as his lights are in the pitch black room, they're dim- dim for how blinding they should be with him keyed up, ready to fight whatever came through the door. Worse, him looking away gives you the perfect view of the horrid scratch just below his right optic.

He holds you so close, so precariously folding his limbs to fit into the closet anyway- you stretch up onto your tip toes and reach for him. "Starscream..."

Your fingertips barely brush metal. His face snaps back towards you.

In an instant you can see it, plain as though he'd told you himself. He didn't come back for you-- not that you would have expected him to, he was hardly the most dedicated of them-- but now that he has you in his servos again... The apertures of his optics spin, watching you, betraying more than he would ever want to say. Outside, the footsteps recede.

"I was worried about you." You say, "I missed you." and it's true. When you reach for him again, he lets you touch, your tiny palm against his massive, cool cheek.

"Of course you did." Starscream says on instinct. But the waver of his optics, of his derma means there's something else. Starscream quiets as he struggles to say something with sincerity. Evidently, he doesn't quite get there. "I can't mass displace." It's not what he really means to say, replaces his first-line defense of sarcasm and self-aggrandizement with second-line allusion. It's enough to give you pause- "Have to be quick." and that's enough for you to push it aside.

You nod, instantly breathless. You don't know what quick means to him right now, so you skip the formalities and kick your pants off the edge of his servo. His optics darken at the sight of you adjusting, settling back against the quickly warming plates.

And when you part your legs for him- his engine hums, spooling up despite his attempts to suppress the sound- and his glossa spills from his intake. Slick, smooth metal joints trace up your thigh- and that's all the warm-up you get before he's sliding between your lips.

A gasp rips its way from your mouth- and you quickly cover it with your hand, sinking your teeth into your fingers just to keep quiet. From the heat in Starscream's gaze and the momentary flick of his wings, you think he'd wish you wouldn't- regardless of how tactically sound that impulse is.

He drags his glossa up nice and slow, lets his optics shutter, rerouting processing power to the chemical sensors on his glossa. It's been a quartex- no, two- since he last tasted you and your strange little organic lubricant. It's sweet and so strangely inert, his drained tanks aching for energy-dense fuel, not the delicious strings of proteins you leak so obligingly onto his glossa.

His faceplate is cool when he draws his servo even closer, your thighs pressing up to rough-worn metal. You sigh for the contact, squirm in his palm as his languid licks turn intentional, the tapered tip prodding at your entrance while the base rubs teasingly across your clit.

"Star," You sigh into your fist. He must hear it- because his engine gives a stuttering, half-aborted purr and his glossa pushes in.

With so little effort, he fills you- and your warmth, your softness, your taste surrounds him. This time, his engine's spooling goes unchecked, a deep rumble that rises in pitch- and yet does nothing to hide the distinctive shnk of his panel opening.

You wish you had the time, that he had the energy to fuck you properly. It's been so long, and as nice as his glossa feels pumping into you, squirming deliciously against your walls, it's not the same.

Around you, his talons twitch again- and now you watch his arm move and stroke himself with a pace that shuns the very concept of patience. Heat bursts from his vents, fans clicking ever higher in vain. It's been too long- too long without him, too long worrying. There's no room for the nice, slow reunion fuck you each deserved.

"Close," You gasp, but he already knows. He's felt how your soft, squishing walls keep trying to clamp down on his glossa, as though you could trap him inside that soft, wet little frame-

"Yes, yes," He purrs- voice rumbling unimpeded from his vox. Red light washes over your tiny body as he re-engages his optics, watches as you squirm in his servo-

And when you cry out, "Star!" body going rigid because of him- for him- Starscream's engine stutters, skips a cycle and he moans against your skin. His arm trembles, struggles to work himself through his own overload.

He leans away, his vents hot like desert air on your skin. The light of his optics has dimmed, lowered in the wake of his spent charge- but still coat your body in a garnet gleam, every inch of you painted red for him.

You rub your hand along his, feel the grooves between plates. "Do you have to go?" You murmur, staring up him.

"I'll be back." Starscream promises, stroking your body so carefully with one long, sharp talon. "I'll find you."

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 5: His very own lighthouse

genre: honestly who even knows at this point - angst, fluff, comfort, EVERYTHINGGGGG

word count: 5961

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: things are happening too fast– it's been nine days of this madness and, once again, everything just seems to continue to spiral. but sometimes, in the midst of all the darkness, you find some light, and that is enough to make you keep going.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: sorry for the delay on the update, but it's finally here! I'm excited to see this story evolving! what are you excited about with this chapter? Let me know in the comments! <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments!

“Knock, knock.”

The hospital smells of rubbing alcohol and plastic and it’s all a really weird experience. On one hand, you have kids books, three or four that you managed to get from the store before Spencer got you out of there. On the other, you have flowers with a card signed by both you and the boy genius that couldn’t come with. Very last minute, Spencer had gotten a call from Agent Hotchner and he had to go to the office, but he had been kind enough to drop you off to see Officer Kaper. s

“Miss Y/L/N!” He smiles from where he’s laying in bed, daughter tucked under one arm and wife by the other. “Sweetie, this is the nice book lady I told you about,” The baby girl eyes you up with that shy nature you love some much in kids. It’s a quiet kind of judgement that you fly by with a smile, slowly approaching and turning the books towards her. 

“The book lady brought more books!” You whisper, trying to keep the energy in the room positive, but not too excited. Spencer had said this was a minimal injury case– apparently Officer Kaper was at home when the break-in happened and he kept his wife and daughter safe, but had gotten injured while doing so. Stabbed, to be more precise. And although you can’t see the stitches, you can see the large bandage around his torso. Gulping, you look away, finding that his wife’s sweet smile melts your heart. “Hello. It’s really nice to meet you, I’m Y/N… and I’m… I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, no,” His wife smiled, shaking her head before coming to you and grabbing the flowers so delicately. “You have nothing to apologise for, this is not your fault.” She takes the books too, smiling at the silly little drawings in the cover before giving it to her husband.

You’re not really sure what to do in there, with this family that looks oh so happy despite the circumstances. Have you ever been that happy just to be around someone? 

Yes. 

“Y/N, let’s go! We’re going to be late!”

There is a tired drag of your feet underneath you, but you still smile, giggling at the dramatic reaction when he sees you in your dress. “Oh stop it,” You mumble, applying a final layer of lipstick before turning to him and saying, “I’m ready.” 

“And I’m the luckiest man alive,” He mumbled, kissing your forehead sweetly before opening the door to go call the elevator. That is the kind of man he is– someone who likes to be prepared for everything, who predicts what will come his way and plan accordingly to be two steps ahead. At first, it’s impressive, seeing how ready he is to deal with whatever life throws his way. It makes you puff your chest proudly and say ‘that is my man.’ But then it feels a little bothersome, really, not being able to have a thought to yourself without his curious hands prying it open and public. You can’t have anything just yours, because Josh wants everything to be his, and suddenly’y he is not your man, but you are his woman. And that doesn’t sit right with you. 

For now, though, when everything is great and amazing, anything he does has you smiling; even if your feet hurt in the too tall heels, even if your can’t breathe right in the too tight dress– you smile. Because Josh likes you smiling and you love Josh when he likes you. “And I’m the luckiest woman in the universe.”

“The entire universe?” He mumbles, smiling and pecking your lips with a calculated kiss that doesn’t blur your makeup. 

“The entire universe.” 

“That’s a big, big universe you’re talking about…”

Later on, you’d find out that even though yes, the universe is big and so much of it still goes undiscovered, sharing it with him makes you feel very, very small. 

“How is Officer Kaper doing?” Spencer asks once you step into the car. You look at him with an empty look in your face that makes him sigh. You’ve been like this since the news broke last night, alienated from your own self, and he hates it– he hates seeing the light in your eyes dim and the way your lips struggle to stretch into a smile. “Y/N?”

“Sorry,” You mumble, shaking your head to try and get your jumbled thoughts in order. “He’s uh, he’s okay. The nurse said he got lucky, which I don’t really see how, I mean, he was– he uh, got stabbed. With a knife. So not really lucky of him, in my books.”

“But he’s okay,” Spencer repeats, reaching out to lace his fingers with yours, and you’ve never held onto something so tightly like you did then to his hand. “Y/N, he’s okay. In the mean time, I’ll be in charge of your protection. The higher ups have deemed this an active case now that someone’s got injured and–“

“Wait, what?” Your head snaps to look at him, eyes wide. “Was it not an active case before?!” 

“Not officially,” Not even his soft voice can make you feel better. “It was for me and my team but… not for Strauss. That’s our section chief, she’s… complicated. Bureaucratic.”

“And there is nothing in the fucking FBI bureaucracy about considering a case of an innocent civilian being stalked by a serial killer active?” Scoffing, you pull your hand away from his as if his touch burned your skin, suddenly too aware of your situation. “What? Are they waiting for me to die or something? For her to finally get me? What the fuck, Spencer, why didn’t you tell me this before?” 

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He says quietly, eyes glancing at you for a fraction of a second before moving back to the traffic ahead. “And I still don’t. It’s going to be okay, I pro–“

“Don’t,” You say through gritted teeth, head swimming in the growing amount of information you are struggling to process. “I know you mean well, but please don’t promise me anything, because I… Spencer, right now, you’re the only person I trust, and if you promise me something you can’t keep, I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

The craziness of it all doesn’t escape you. When you were a kid, dreaming of fantastical adventures, this surely wasn’t what you had in mind. Spencer, as cordial and gentlemanly as he is, is not the perfect prince you hoped for and you, all tears and judgments, are far from being a princess. This is real life; it’s raw, and burning, and stretching, and painful, but it’s yours and you are determined to make something out of it. And whatever it is that you are making, this can’t be it. You refuse to let this be the one big event that forever determines the rest of your life. 

Takes you a little while to notice that you’re not quite going to his apartment, and your heart flutters. The thought of those beloved green walls used to make you smile. It was a glimpse inside the world of Spencer Reid, your favourite customer– of his plants, his books, his odd addiction to the colour purple showing in the smallest of details, in the pillows, the blankets, the place mats left and forgotten on his counter. The excitement is still there, though, and you will do virtually anything to keep it alive, but… but just like his walls, that spark of giddiness inside of you whenever you enter the place now is smaller. Faded. Muted. You feel guilty, admitting that yourself, and that guilt morphs into something akin to embarrassment. Sitting next to you is a man who is doing everything and anything to try and keep you safe, and yet, you just can’t find it in yourself to be as positive as he seems to be. Hope might be the last one to die, but eventually, it dies. You wonder if yours was just never there to begin with. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, looking at him for a brief second. There is a lot going on right now, specially between you two, and even looking at him is hard. Whenever you do, eyes lingering on his sharp jaw or his messy hair, you remember yesterday. You remember his hands holding you close, and his breath hitting the back of your neck. You remember how you felt, all warm and tingly everywhere, and you remember how you imagine he felt by the way his heartbeat drummed against your back. But yesterday is not good only. Yesterday is not just emotions and ease and comfort, because yesterday was also day eight of this nightmare. Day eight that marked the beginning of a new week in this torturous purgatory, baiting you with the happiness you could have but seemingly never would. “Spence?” 

He exhales, letting something heavy within himself go, when you call for him. “We’re going to the BAU. Hotch asked me to bring you in so we can ask you some questions, if you feel up for it.” 

You don’t feel up for it, but you will not tell him that. Not when it finally feels like people are finally starting to take this seriously. “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” You gulp, nodding and already digging in your bag for your ID. At this point, you know the drill, thanking the front desk man twenty minutes later when he gives you your visitor’s pass. 

“Y/N!” 

It amazes you, really, that in the midst of all of this, you still manage to make a friend. Penelope is an obvious choice, though you wouldn’t even say you had much of a choice anyways. At first you thought she had gotten your phone from Spencer, wanting to provide you with some encouraging words and a shoulder to cry on. But after learning more about her job, you know for a fact that she probably pulled your number from whatever database she could. The whole thing starts after that day in her office, with you sending her a quick apology for the entire thing– you crossed the line asking to see Cat Adam’s photo and Spencer took it even further by screaming at her. Just as you thought, Penelope is quick to forgive and forget, and since then, most of your conversation consists of memes and borderline sexualised comments about Agent Derek Morgan. You even get some pictures, though you are too scared to open them fully. From the small preview you can see on your phone, these photos are not meant for your eyes, and even know, when Agent Morgan smiles at you and Spencer walking in, you can’t help but blush.

“Are you okay?” Penelope asks, brows wiggling with knowledge that Spencer would, hopefully, never get. You don’t imagine he would be all to pleased with you seeing pictures of his co-worker shirtless, though you are still too scared and careful to admit to yourself the reason why he wouldn’t be all that happy about it. The higher the climb, the harder the fall, and you’ve fallen enough for Spencer. “You’re all red in the face and looking a little bit spooked there, Y/N. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’re embarrassed. But my oh my, what would you have to be embarrassed about?”

Staring at her with your mouth hanging open, you blush even further, chortling out something akin to laughter mixed with an indignant squeak. “Penelope!” Your whisper-scream is not as subtle as you think it is, and both men look at you with curiosity all over their faces. 

“Do you girls want to share with the class?” Derek asks, stepping closer to you which makes you step closer to Spencer. It’s a weird chain reaction that leaves everyone but Penelope confused, and you want to kill her and thank her at the same time. It seems that she is the only one trying to bring some normalcy back to your life. 

“Not particularly, no,” Penelope takes the lead and you’re happy to let her, purposefully ignoring Spencer’s squinted eyes on you. You know that look– you know many of his looks, actually, but that specific look is his thinking look. The one he got whenever you tell him something about celebrity drama or fan-fiction writers. Whenever Spencer has that look, you usually smile wide, knowing that it’s his own way to tell you he’s paying attention to you. Right now, however, you want him to look away and pretend you don’t exist. “Though I’m easily convinced, my hot, cho–“

“Nope,” You intervene, hands shooting to cover your ears. “Stop! Don’t you dare!”

“Aha! I knew it!” She laughed, and while you walk inside the bullpen that is now, unfortunately, familiar enough, you two bicker like children. 

“What’s going on?” The way your head snaps to the women sitting by a desk is enough of a tell for Spencer to know you are about to freak out. 

“Guys…” He tried to stop them, and you have so much faith in him that he will that your eyes sparkle for a second. It pains him to see that light within you turn off when the women clearly ignore him. 

“Emily, JJ,” Penelope giggled, rushing to their side, phone in hand. “I sent this to Y/N and–“

“Oh wow,” Emily laughs, shaking her head and looking at you with pure and raw sympathy. “You have now been through the initiation, you’re officially one of us. Congrats, Y/N!”

“Yeah, Penelope sent me those pictures on my second days as a liaison,” JJ winced, laughing nonetheless. “I will admit it made my first week very awkward.”

“What initiation?” Derek is Spencer’s opposite. Penelope has told you about them before, about their friendship, about how Derek, despite the teasing and the overbearing duty to protect his friend, was always there for little boy genius. While Spencer is silent thinking and careful calculations, Derek is quick action and instant reaction. It’s a sight to behold, those two together, and you smile when Spencer nods vigorously. 

“Yeah, what initiation?” He is looking at you because he knows you’re the one most likely to crack. 

But this time, you hold your ground, shaking your head and pursing your lips. “I–“

“Miss Y/L/N.” The mood shifts instantly, and you even feel a little bit bad for the two man walking towards where everyone has suddenly gone still. 

“Agent Hotchner, hello,” You mumble, smiling as best as you can under his gaze. 

But then something happens. 

Something changes. 

And his eyes soften. “Thank you for coming. I am sorry that it took this long for the higher ups to clear us for a full investigation of your case, but now we have proof that Cat has a partner and they they are escalating.”

“Escalating?” Little by little you learn about their vocabulary. It’s not something that any book you’ve read has touched on and it feels eerily realistic to be saying those words yourself, like you have been transported inside a book you’ve never even wanted to read. 

“It means they are evolving their methodology of… attack,” Emily words gently, trying to explain it as softly as she could, but not even the sweetest of voices or kindest of gestures could take away the fright of this entire thing. “They are getting bolder, and so they might try something that, otherwise, they wouldn’t.” 

“O-Okay,” You whisper, frowning in thought. “But, and sorry if this is a stupid question, but what is making them bolder? It can’t just be out of nowhere, right?” 

“Spoken like a true profiler,” JJ smiled with a pat to your shoulder. “Behaviour changes this drastic usually have triggers, and something triggered this. We don’t know who this partner is, but they were bold enough to try and break into a police officer’s house. This means they are reckless. Impulsive.” 

“What if it was pre-planned?” You ask, missing how Spencer looks at you with a huge smile. Having you interested in his job is better than having you hate his job, and he would take this over the other any day. “The attack.”

“We can assume it wasn’t, since Officer Kaper showed up halfway through the break-in,” Derek concluded. “Meaning the attacker didn’t account for him coming home.” 

“But you said Cat Adams is calculated,” You turn to Spencer with wide eyes– things are starting to click in your brain and you need him to know you’re not just putting all the weight on his shoulders, you need him to know that you’re trying too. “You said she plays mind games.” 

“She does,” He mumbles, holding back a smile made for you and you only. His hands find your shoulders, rubbing it up and down to try and hold back the energy he knows is accumulating inside of you; whenever you get too excited about something, be it new books or a new sale, you like to ramble a little about it, and every time you do, you bounce on the heel of your feet, up and down, up and down, up and down. “But Cat also targets men. Cheaters, specifically. And… and fathers. She has deep rooted issues with her father–“

“Cat Adams has daddy issues?” You deadpan. 

“–and her downfall is her projection. So yes, they are getting bold as a duo or… or her partner went rogue.” 

“Which one is better?” Looking at Hotch, you wince a little at your own joke. “None of them, got it.” 

“Since this is an active case, we will need your constant collaboration,” Hotchner says, guiding the entire team to a room up the stairs and, as naturally as the sun sets and rises the next morning, everyone found their place at the round table. 

Except you. 

You are not one of them. You don’t have a place. 

Or you didn’t. 

“Y/N, come here,” Spencer says, pulling an extra chair next to his. And that’s when you realise that in this weird dynamic group of people who knew way more than they should, you belong next to him. 

“Thank you,” You mumbled, nervously shoving your hands between your thighs and waiting for Penelope to take the lead. That seemed to be her thing, even if she stands out like a sore thumb in that beige room with her bright orange dress and neon blue heels. 

“Okay, fellow brainiacs and dear beloved Y/N. Let’s figure this out,” Her declaration makes you feel somewhat calmer, the sounds of buttons echoing in the room. The TV goes bright with pictures– of you, of Spencer, of Cat. Her eyes, tempting you closer with the prospect that she knows something you don’t, won’t let you look away until Spencer forces you to, his hand sliding down your arm to find yours. You’re not sure if he realises how intimate this is, specially with his co-workers surrounding you two, but you don’t push him away. Instead, you open your legs a tad, just enough to let his hand slider between your clasped ones. Just like a vine, you lace your fingers with his, and then press your thighs back together, caging him there and refusing to let it go. “Cat Adams is currently in Mount Pleasant Women's Correctional Facility serving time for countless of murders. A week ago–“

“Nine days,” You say without thinking and immediately shrink in your chair when all eyes brush over you for a second. 

“Yes, thank you! Nine days ago our dear boy genius got a package sent to his apartment while you all were out on the Oklahoma case, and since he had asked Y/N to water his plants, she ended up being the one who signed for it. We assume that’s when Cat got to know of your existence. In that box there were a bunch of, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, sexual uh, sexual paraphernalia. After that, Y/N has been under protective custody with either Officer Kaper or Reid himself. However, yesterday, Officer Kaper’s house has been broken in by a suspect we are yet to identify,” Pausing for a breath, she clicked on the remote control making photo after photo pop up. Once she has a picture of the box, though, contents on show for everyone, you look away. Even the slightest sight of it has your blood boiling. “I’ve pulled all cameras I possible can leading to Officer Kaper’s house, but most of them had been turned off ahead of the invasion. They also didn’t receive anything, no notes, no packages, nada.” 

“That is inconsistent with their MO,” Emily hums, turning to look at Spencer. “But then again, her main target is Reid, so I doubt Cat would diverge from that. She is smart, but she also likes that he knows she’s taunting him.”

“We also know that Cat doesn’t know about the bookstore,” Spence says, squeezing your hand so naturally that nothing in his face gives it away. “Her note went straight to Y/N’s home. The box went to mine. It is safe to say that she has no clue about Y/N’s personal life outside of what she shares with me.” 

No one says anything while they all stare at him, you included. “What?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” By Derek’s tone of voice, you know some teasing is about to come. “And just what do you two share, pretty boy?” 

“I-I mean– no, I didn’t mean it like that,” Spencer’s face is fire red, and though he tries to pull his hand out of yours in a moment of panic, you don’t let him. “I di– Morgan! I meant… I meant outside of what we shared.  Past tense. She has been staying at my place for nine days, so we’ve shared nine da– Morgan stop laughing! Hotch!”

At this point, even you are laughing at his high pitched voice. “Spence, it’s okay.” 

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay!” JJ repeats and you stare at her with wide eyes. “What?! You two are adorable!”

“Focus, please,” It’s impressive how Agent Hotchner commands the room, demanding the attention back to him with just one expression of stiff frustration. But then he lets his eyes run over you and Spencer, and you notice how the corner of his lips twitch. “And yes, you two are adorable.” 

The rest of the meeting passes by in the blink of an eye. You don’t really catch onto what they are saying, most of it too deep into the field of psychology and behavioural science for a layman like you to be able to participate. However, you do listen to them. Almost like a true crime podcast playing in the background, you listen to the team narrate this entire ordeal and you’re quite surprised to notice the emotions bubbling inside of you– the anger, the frustration, the sadness. The factual tone of their voices sends shivers down your arms, creating the much needed distance from it all that you’ve craved all along… and making it all that much worse. Now that you have the opportunity to look at it from the outside, from their perspective, and you can truly see how pathetic you must be to a team of… of… of super people like them. 

Sliding down the chair, you try to hide yourself from the occasional glance in your direction, but what you seem to miss is the way your hand, clasping Spencer’s so tightly like you might just float away if you let go, shifts upwards between your legs, dangerously close to your crotch. 

“Y/N!” Spencer hissed, head snapping to look at you with eyes so wide you can see the speckles of chocolate brown in the midst of his honeyed hazel pupils. 

“What?” You whisper, almost falling from the chair with how abruptly he turned to you. “Jesus, Spencer, what is it?” 

“You okay there, kid?” Derek asks with a frown so deep you think his brows might jump out of his handsome face. 

“Yup! All good!” But he can’t fool anyone in there, not even you, with his high pitched voice and the way he snatches his arm up and away, hands fidgeting with the iPad in front of him like that would erase the redness in his face. “All fine. Moving on, next steps. Y/N and I will go back to my apartment and–“

“No.” 

To your surprise, it’s not you that say that– it’s Penelope. 

“No?” Agent Hotch asks, brows raised at the technical analyst. 

“I’m sorry sir, but… no.” 

“Pen, it’s fine,” You mumble, nodding with a sad smile. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, and Spencer is too worried to see that you, my little flower, are wilting without your daily dose of sunshine!” She speaks so fast that even Derek takes a moment to fully understand what she’s saying. 

“Baby girl,” He sighs, shaking his head. “I understand what you mean, but the kid has a point. With the partner now possibly escalating the nature of their crimes, Y/N unfortunately needs to limit–“

“Limit my presence outside in public, yeah, I got it,” Nodding to everyone, you exhale slowly, only to take a deep inhale again. One second– that is all you need, one second to gather your bearings again, before slapping your hands gently on the table and rising slowly. With an appreciative nod and a joking tone, you smile at JJ, Emily, and Penelope. “Back to prison for me, I guess.” 

————————————

“Do you want to order some food?”

The whole ride to his apartment, you’ve been trying to get Spencer to talk to you. He’s quiet once his boss lets you two go. Not even the radio can make this a less uncomfortable drive and you are not really sure what is going on.

“No? Do you want me to cook some dinner?” Nothing but the sounds of him walking around the place. 

Doesn’t take too long before he comes back to the living room in sweatpants and one of his sweatshirts, hair even messier and glasses crooked– just a little, honestly, yet your hand still itches with the need to stretch out to him and fix them on his pretty little nose. Before you can say anything, he turns around and goes back to his room. The urgency in his steps makes you think he maybe forgot something in there, but then he comes back out and opens him mouth… only to close it and go back to the room. 

This happens a couple more time before you lose your patience. “Spencer!” You groan, quickly moving to grab his wrist before he disappears again. “Spence! What are you doing?” 

“Do you really feel like a prisoner?” 

His words shock you a little. “What?”

“Earlier you said ‘back to prison for me, I guess’ right after you said ‘limit my presence outside in public, yeah, I got it,’” The way he repeats your words verbatim makes you gasp, blushing out of self-consciousness. 

“Okay, I got it, I got it!” You grimace, still not letting go of his wrist. “I–“ 

Lying to him would be very easy. Sure, he can read your micro-expressions or whatever they are, but living with a profiler has been teaching you a thing or two about what they look out for. On top of that, living with a profiler that makes you heart beat faster with the slightest of smiles has taught you just how to hide what they are looking for… or at least how to try and hide it. So you smile a little, and just like him, you open your mouth without being able to say anything. 

Yes, you can try and lie to Spencer, but the problem is that you simply don’t want to. You don’t want to lie to him, not when he’s been putting such an effort to be truthful and honest whenever he can. 

“It’s not that I feel like a prisoner,” You whisper, looking down at how you hold his wrist so tightly and yet, he says nothing. He doesn’t complain, not even when your knuckles turn white, those eyes stuck on you the entire time. Sighing, you ease up a little, letting your hand slide down until your gently holding his hand again. It makes you brave enough to look at him without wincing in guilt. “It’s just that… I don’t know when was it that protecting me turned into… isolating me. You know?”

Spencer just shakes his head, a little exhale coming out of those beautiful lips almost as if you had pushed it out yourself. “Iso– You think I’m isolating you?”

Oh. “No, Spence, no, it’s not like, it’s not you,” You trying to make him feel better clearly just makes him feel worse. “It’s me!”

“I’ve heart that before and–“

“Spencer, I know you don’t want to isolate me from people. I know that, I really, really do,” Tugging him down to sit with you on the couch, you scoot closer to him to hold both his hands on yours. You two have done this so much at this point that there is no hesitation in reaching out to touch him anymore. “It’s just hard. I’m someone who thrives in routine and I was taken away from mine. I… I can’t work. I can’t go outside. I can’t– it just… it makes me feel a little suffocated.”

It also terrifies you, how familiar this all feels. Trapped, lonely, ignored. Just like before, people talk about you but never with you. They hear you, but no one really listens to you. It’s like you are nothing but a shell of a person, blown around by the wind of other people moving. Of Josh moving. Of Josh moving you, commanding you, caging you. And you have to remember– Spencer is not Josh. Spencer would never do to you what Josh did, he would never belittle you and then apologise with crocodile tears; he would never bring you high up for weeks and then pull the rug with one quick take down; he would never raise his hand at you and much less actually bring it down at you. No, Spencer is not Josh… but you are you, and despite all the changes you managed to fit in the past year, at your core, past the different hair and the new clothes, you are still the same girl who ran packing out of New York City. 

“And I can get a little claustrophobic, and when I get claustrophobic I panic, and when I panic I–“ You stop yourself before you say something stupid. “I’ve been in this position before, Spence. And back then I didn’t have you. I didn’t have someone who was looking out for me like you are, or who just wanted what’s best for me– because I know that’s what you want, Spence, I know you want me to be safe,” The way he slowly nods fills your heart with adoration and your eyes with unshed tears. “Back then I just had someone who wanted me. Like a kid wants a toy. He… He wasn’t a very good man, Spence, and he made sure to scare away all the good people I had, and at one point he started scaring me so I just–”

“Ran away,” And it’s like something clicks for him because his eyes get oh so sad, to the point that you turn your face when a singular tear escapes through your lashes. Offering him a gurgled laughter, you quickly wipe it away. “You ran away to Washington with just a backpack.” 

Nodding, you look up at him again and you’re a bit unsure of what to think of him like this, eyes shinning with something so unfamiliar to Spencer that it just feels wrong. It’s the way his breath picks up, ragged and loud, that makes you realise he is actually angry. No, no, scratch that– Spencer is pissed off. “What did he do to you?” 

“It doesn’t matter, Spencer.”

“What’s his name?” 

“I’m really not going to tell you,” You say with squinted eyes. “You’ll go all FBI on him.”

“That’s the entire point!” There he is, the high pitched voice, wide eyed man you adore so much, wildly gesticulating as he speaks. “People like that shouldn’t be allowed to… to… to be! I–“ Then, his hands fall down on his lap, suddenly lifeless and unmoving. “I–“ It’s like he is choking on words, frowning in desperation at his lack of speech and you don’t know what to do. You’ve never seen him this… distraught. “I–“

“Spence, it’s okay,” You whisper, clasping your hands around both of his like a little cocoon of warmth. This is the first time Spencer hints at the ghosts of his past, but from the way he flinches when you pull him closer, slowly leaning his taller body towards you so you can hug him, tells you that tonight is just not the night to talk about them. For now, you’d hold him, and you beacon him back to the real world with soft words of encouragement, like his very own lighthouse. For now, you’d be light enough for you both, even if some darkness still tries to creep in for time to time. “I’m okay.”

“I made you feel trapped,” He whispers against your neck and you can’t help the shiver that shakes your body. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry, I’m just trying to keep you safe. I’m doing the best I can, and I’m sorry it’s not enough.” 

“Hey!” You gasp, and now boundaries don’t mean anything– coyness and slow intentions are thrown out the window as you tug him closer, closer, closer, until he is practically laying on top of you. Your back is against the side of the couch and you stretched your legs, entangling them with him. As much as he tries to move, grumbling something about squishing you, you don’t let him. He needs to know. He needs to know just how much more than simply enough he is. “You are way above enough and you know that. You have to know that, Spence, you have to. Because you’re so incredible and I… I adore you, Spencer Reid. My favourite customer. My FBI agent.” 

All versions of him, all parts of him. You love them all. 

Because, in the end, all that matters is that you love him. You love Spencer Reid. And that’s a little scary. Even it is exciting, it’s still a little scary. 

His little chuckle makes it a bit more bearable, though, and he soon gives into your embrace. The weight of his body keeps you down in the most delicious of ways, and the heat he radiates is enough to have your eyes getting heavier. In the comfort of his home, snuggled up in his couch, hugging him close, you find that there is such a thing as comfortable stillness. There is peace in the unmoving. There is no need to, all the time, be moving. Because there, with Spencer in your arms and his soft breathing on your neck, you think that nothing could in the world could make you want to run again. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel isolated,” He whispers, arms enveloping you like two lifelines holding you close. “I never meant to make you panic.”

“It’s okay,” You mumble back, eyes already closed and nose buried in his sweet smelling hair. “You might have made me panic, but Spence… I don’t think you could ever make me want to run.”

No… Spencer makes you want to stay. 

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[kathaynesart]

I'm turning Future Leo years old tomorrow (39) so to celebrate I drew fLeo going through all the trials and tribulations I've been dealing with at this age. Also thought it'd be a fun opportunity to put him in some of my outfits. He understands my pain.  

TED talk about aging and fLeo below here.  Just my thoughts as I was drawing all this.

So 39.  Seems like a big number that I’m sure feels so far off to many of my followers.  I thought as much too.  The oddest thing is I never felt much different from who I am now to what I was like at 25.  But then I hang out with 20 something and realize: oh… there was a change.  But what?

I will say this. A lot of people have told me that your 30’s will be the best years of your life and honestly I would have to agree.  In my experience (as well as my friends) something happens to you in your 30′s.  A calmness takes over. Not in a bad sort of way, but in a way where you no longer have any F’s to give.  All those things that used to stress you out and work you up sort of fade into the background and you’re left with this immense sense of freedom.  You finally come into your own and enough people have come and gone from your life that you realize that you don’t have to strive to meet everyone expectations even the ones you once set for yourself.  Again I’m sure it’s a little different for everyone but this has been the overall experience of many I’ve spoken with.

Life is messy and as you age you get a better sense of what matters in the mess.  Because we have only have so much energy to give, 30 something’s have to focus their energy on what really matters.  It helps you hone in on the important things.  For many in my age bracket, that is child rearing.  For me, a single cartoon loving cat lady, it’s my personal projects and my self betterment.  No one option is right and there are many many more than the few I just mentioned. It’s just about finding those things that really matter to you, and letting go of what society told you should matter.  

I’ll be honest, I literally got into this fandom because of future Leo.  Not necessarily because I “kinnie” him but because it was so wonderful (if even for a few minutes) to see a character my age not treated as some sagely old dude or antagonist, but the actual hero with a whole batch of flaws yet somehow still cool.  You don’t get to see that much anymore in media geared towards younger audiences and the response to him from the fandom was so dang heart warming.

Middle aged characters can be cool, goofy, imperfect, and still be figuring their sh*t out.  I know I still am.  I thought by this age I’d have everything figured out. That was the point of growing old, right?  But you don’t.  You never do.  But you can learn to come to terms with that, and realize that the important thing is to just enjoy the ride the best way you can.  

Thanks for helping me on that journey.