#first smut!!
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Clan head!Gojo
#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru#jjk fanart#english is not my first language if anything sounds weird im sorry pls pretend it makes sense#gojo satoru smut
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roommate!ghost who's waiting for you when you get home in the middle of the night after going out with your friends. Sitting on the couch in those fucking grey sweatpants when you stumble through the door and drop your keys. Has to stare at the crack on the ceiling when you get down on your hands and knees to find them, pretend for his own sanity that he hasn't seen the tiny excuse for underwear you've got on under that little black dress.
Like clockwork, he's got you sitting on the icy bathroom counter as you giggle, telling him all about your night. He's got cotton pads and makeup remover in one hand and the other holding onto your thigh because you started unconsciously squeezing his broad frame when he stepped in between your open legs. He gently wipes away all the traces of the night, carefully mapping out the contours of your face like you're a masterpiece he's carved from some precious stone. Until he gets to your lips. The shiny, fucking sparkly gloss is all thats left on your skin but his hand freezes as he studies the crease in your bottom lip. You catch up two seconds later in your dreamy, relaxed haze, and without even thinking about it you close the gap, softly pressing your lips to the one's silently hovering over yours.
His breath catches and his grip on your thigh becomes molten hot as you just as quickly pull away. Innocently you smile at him, like you hadn't just killed him, like you hadn't just made him start planning your wedding down to the way your eyes would shine as you walked down the aisle, all for him.
Your laugh is the only thing that can pull him out of his stupor, "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that."
But he does, he really, really does.
#simon ghost riley#ghost headcanons#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley fluff#cod smut#cod x reader#roommate! ghost#roommate ghost#roommate au#first kiss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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ghost getting himself a cute, soft girl he doesn't talk about much but is clearly obsessed with and price just thinks it's nice he's finally settled down, approves of the home he's made for himself, definitely approves of the one he's taken for himself.
soap asks kyle if he's seen you and he says, "yep. lovely bird he's got tucked away in her little dollhouse. makes great food, too." soap swears there's a subtle shift in his tone when he says "lovely", a hint of something deeper that flickers in his eyes for just a moment. soap simply sucks on his teeth, letting it slide. (although he knows that kyle's always been one to appreciate the good things in life.)
interest gnaws at him, a persistent itch he can't scratch. price likes you just fine, as does kyle. well what about him? he decides to bite the bullet and goes to simon with a knot between his brows, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. they've shared clothes, bullets, beds. if the other two got to meet you, why can't he?
"ya can come over for dinner on tonight. she'd 'ave my neck if she didn't formally meet ya anyway."
soap then asks, out of genuine curiosity more than anything else, if simon would have kept you in the dark from him hadn't he brought you up himself.
"ya meet 'er when i want ya to, boy, and not a moment before." the tone he takes is unmistakeable. his words are a command, not a suggestion, and soap instantly knows to not push further.
soap nods. "ah'll be there."
"course ya will. she'd be terribly disappointed otherwise."
yeah, he'd hate to have that.
soap sits in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the cozy place. with a full stomach and an unfastened belt, nursing a glass of kentucky. he can't remember the last time he ate that well or that much.
maybe it's the alcohol that loosens his tongue, or the fact that he wishes he also had a sweet little thing to keep at his side just like simon's doing with you now, but the thoughts he's been mulling over all evening since he first saw you tumble out of his mouth.
"while ah can attest to yer taste in sweethearts, can't say much about your alcohol. bourbon, LT?" he says, chest warm.
simon's arm tightens around your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh. he shrugs, completely unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "can't be perfect in everythin', can we, sergeant?"
soap's cheeks burn furiously hot when you come to his defense with a smack of your palm onto simon's chest. "be nice to johnny. he's got a face that make up for some of his other flaws."
the teasing lilt in your voice unashamedly gets his southern blood pumping. he can't help it if certain things stir when someone as pretty as you look at him like that. soap swirls the amber liquid gently in the glass while keeping his limpid eyes on you, not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze hasn't wavered since your cheeky little comment.
you then whisper something in simon's ear, your cupped hand not even half the size of his head and soap has to rearrange himself from the outside when your teeth catch your bottom lip. simon looks up at you then, eyes heavy and half lidded, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.
"'m not sure, love. you'll just 'ave to ask 'im yourself. go on."
you open that sweet mouth of yours, but simon cuts you off with a decisive wave of his hand. "no. you know how to ask for things."
your reaction to that is visceral, and you're on your knees faster than his alcohol-muddled brain can comprehend. don't look down 'er shirt, don't look down 'er shirt, don't-
"johnny, will you touch my pussy?"
he splutters at your question, completely taken aback, but it seems you're not done just yet.
"hands to yourself, sergeant. tha' not all."
you pout at simon, one that earns you a look that promises consequence, but do as he says.
"will you touch my pussy, johnny? pretty please?"
#this got away from me sorry yall!!!#yeah i had so debated having ghost be like nope pricentaught ya better than that but#simon seems the type to get things done on the first time#either you learn or your arsecheeks learn#something will give soon enough#price says he's coming back for seconds tomorrow#kyle gets his on saturday#all for one strikes AGAIN i'm afraid#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#x f!reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#soaps shaken after in the group chat like yall uh yall got dessert too or-#simon ghost riley smut
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choso looks like a guy that would fall asleep with your titty in his mouth.
i’m just imagining his strong arms wrapped around you as he holds you tight, his fingers twitching from time to time in his sleep; digging deeper into your shirt that’s pushed up to the collar, successfully exposing your front.
his breathing is calm and his hair is messy. he’s warm because of the non-existent distance between you, because of the way your limbs entangle together, how you hold onto him as well.
and his lips, god… they are soft and plush as they remain wrapped around your nipple. occassionally, they’ll suckle on the sensitive nub a bit, tug it further into his mouth, lick it with a lazy and gentle flick of tongue, almost toying with it even though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t do it on purpose.
trying to not pay any mind to the heat that’s steadily building up below your waist, you stroke his hair and the side of his face as he sleeps; so peacefully that he could come across as an angel despite the fact that his actions are rather sinful.
at some point, a small droplet of drool dribbles down his chin from how relaxed he becomes. he wakes because of it, ever so slightly startled by the sensation it leaves behind, long eyelashes fluttering and revealing very, very tired eyes.
before you can even say anything or wipe away the thin, glimmering line the spit has left behind on his skin, he’s already back to burrowing his entire face into your chest with a content little sigh; making sure to push you even closer with the help of a broad palm pressing against the middle of your back.
this time he does do it on purpose, though.
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“give me the first taste” | 10k
logan howlett x f!reader
part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”
"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple
SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)
A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…
Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.
You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.
It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.
“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.
“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”
Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”
“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from.
“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”
His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.
There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.
“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his.
“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”
You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”
Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”
“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”
“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”
Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.
As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.
All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.
Why is he about to fight a cat?
“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”
“I didn’t know you had a cat.”
“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”
“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”
“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”
“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”
Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”
“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”
This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.
At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”
Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.
Far from dozing off, you feel alive.
It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”
“Ask away.”
You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.
Okay, that was… weirdly specific.
Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.
“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”
“Fucking, you mean.”
“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”
His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”
“I can walk on my own.”
“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.
As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now you’re making jokes?”
“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”
Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is what I want.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.
You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.
Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.
“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”
“You could use a new wardrobe.”
“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”
“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.
You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”
Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”
“I think I’ve already heard that before.”
“Kid.”
You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”
He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”
“Do you have an off switch?”
“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”
“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.
“Wait. I have a game to play.”
“It’s late.”
“Please?”
He sighs. “Okay.”
“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.”
“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”
“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”
He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”
“Really? You, of all people?”
“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”
“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”
Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.
You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.
“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.
“You love having the final say, don’t you?”
“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”
“You can always get new teeth.”
“But my morning breath—”
“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”
“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.
Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”
“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.
More silence.
“Logan?”
“Hmm?”
“What was the Great Depression like?”
“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”
And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.
Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”
You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.
Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”
Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.
“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”
That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.
“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”
“Logan…”
“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”
You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.
Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”
“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”
“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”
“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”
“I could’ve done something much worse.”
“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”
“What if—”
You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.”
This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.
“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.
“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”
A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.
You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.
The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.
“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”
Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”
“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”
At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.
You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”
Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”
“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”
“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”
“I don’t.”
He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”
“I said I don’t.”
“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.
You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”
“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”
“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.
“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”
“Wade, that’s not even possible.”
“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”
“How did you pass History in high school?”
“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”
You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”
“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”
The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.”
“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”
Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.
“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug.
“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”
“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”
“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”
“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”
“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”
Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”
Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”
“Over a month.”
“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”
“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”
“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”
Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.
Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”
“Hey, homey.”
“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”
“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”
Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”
“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”
You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”
“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”
“Oh, no.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”
“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”
Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.
Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.
The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.
What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.
Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do.
Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.
You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.
It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”
He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”
“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”
“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”
“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”
Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”
“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”
You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up.
“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.
“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”
“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”
“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”
You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.
From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”
“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert.
“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.
Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.
He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”
Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them.
You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.
“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”
Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.
“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.
Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.
“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.
“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”
You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.
The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.
Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance.
It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”
Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.
You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.
Hey.
You again.
Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.
Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.
Okay.
“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.
“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.
Sure.
What’s that?
Why not?
Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.
We— we’ll figure it out.
We’ll figure it out.
“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.
My name’s Tom.
Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.
When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”
Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”
“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”
“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”
You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”
“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.
Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.
“Logan, they weren’t even official.”
“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.
“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”
His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”
Lord have mercy.
“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.
He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”
“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”
The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”
“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.
“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”
He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”
“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “
“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.
“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”
For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:
“You are the most exasperating person I know.”
“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”
“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”
You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.
“Drop it, kid.”
“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”
Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”
You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”
Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”
“Fine with me.”
“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”
Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”
That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher.
He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”
You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.
A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”
Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..
“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”
You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.
“Will you—can you—”
“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”
God, you love it when he’s mean.
“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.
A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”
The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”
He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”
You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.
Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”
In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”
“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”
“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”
“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”
“Bub.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”
Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.
“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”
“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”
“Negative, Sergeant.”
“You don’t have any?”
You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”
The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”
Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”
Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”
“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”
“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force. “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”
“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”
“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”
“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”
“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need.
Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.
“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.
The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”
He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”
“Inside.”
“What?”
“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”
He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”
When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”
“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”
“Logan?”
“Tell me, bub.”
“Knock, knock.”
He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”
“Ice cream.”
“Ice cream who?”
“Ice cream for you all night long.”
“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”
This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine x you#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine smut#the wolverine#wolverine x men#x men movies#x men#smut#fluff#fan fiction#fic: give me the first taste#logan x reader#logan xmen#logan x you#james logan howlett#james howlett#x men wolverine#logan wolverine
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I want to post this here too because I’ve seen it happen a few times
Please understand that there are cultural differences and language differences, if you see this happening let the person clarify what they meant, that person might just not be familiar with words the western side of the internet use
#bearz rambling tag#no it’s not really possible to let everyone who uses this term to change#because as far as I know this is the most common word with use on Chinese websites#I didn’t know that pairing are called ‘ship’ here#like why would I even know that#‘ship’ makes zero sense to me#it took me a while to learn the fandom language people speak here#it’s hard#give people time#shipping culture is very different too#Like on Chinese site you HAVE to clarify the Top and the Bottom of this ship in the ship name#it is very very important to them#people who like the same ship but with different Top Bottom preference will fight till no end#imagine how confused I was when I first got here#where there’s no top bottom differences#it’s not really a smut thing#it’s more a dynamic thing#AxB and BxA is very different#oh I can talk so much about the differences on fandom cultures#if ya are interested in more please feel free to ask#it’s very interesting to me#I wanna talk about it
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show & tell (SMG x reader).
part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends to ?
WORD COUNT: 8k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.
NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 18th 2024.
masterlist. / part two.
“Delete her number right now!”
“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…”
“And over text too? Wow.”
“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.”
Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing.
Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused.
You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news.
He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi.
Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another.
But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine.
“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.
“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.”
“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.”
“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you.
Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.”
“So you do know?”
“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.
“Huh?”
“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.”
Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing.
You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue.
So you take mercy on him.
“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever.
“You truly are amazing.”
Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.”
“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit.
“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days.
This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm.
“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?”
“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”
You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss.
When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him.
Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi.
His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing.
You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings.
Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken.
Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year.
You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment.
Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time.
In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well.
He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed.
That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind.
One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.
He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head.
“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.”
He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”
You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way back in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would call you love because that's what good boyfriend's do.
Turns out, you weren't exactly his friend's type. Neither were the other girls in your school.
“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.”
“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way.
And in the solitude of your room, you wait.
You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring.
Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end.
“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you.
“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.”
“How do you do it?”
“Excuse me?”
“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?”
Oh.
Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him.
It catches you off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.”
“You have such a way with words, though.”
You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.”
“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.”
“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.”
“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…”
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?”
“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.”
“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.”
“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later.
“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.”
“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again.
“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff.
You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life.
Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do.
“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed.
Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.”
You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.”
“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.”
His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—”
“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.”
“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.”
“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see.
“Are you writing this down?!”
“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!”
“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—”
“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.”
You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you.
Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot.
Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass.
“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.”
“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.”
You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pajamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what you were telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door.
“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest.
He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”
When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight.
Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you.
“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share.
God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane.
You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime.
“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.”
“Company dinner.”
“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird.
You gulp.
“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.”
You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.”
“You sound like you're reading a textbook.” He confesses with a laugh.
“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.”
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return.
“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else.
He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?”
“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.”
Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes.
“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.”
“Front wall?”
“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.”
“O… kay.”
“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot.
The AC’s on, right?
Fuck.
“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed.
Mingi clears his throat a second later.
“So it feels hard to the touch or…”
“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.”
He laughs “What?”
“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.”
“You didn't drink enough water?”
“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice.
Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that?
“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?”
“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.”
“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?”
“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”
What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure.
Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next?
“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.”
“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!”
“Sorry!”
“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.”
That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself.
In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality.
When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers.
“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line.
A bit passes.
And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face.
So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it.
“Then show me.”
You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry.
It just never affected you this way.
“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on.
“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.”
“Mingi!”
“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.”
“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up.
“San's ex?!”
“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!”
He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything.
“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”
There it is.
You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest.
So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request.
“I've never done it in front of anyone before.”
“So no one has ever make you—”
“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—”
“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you.
“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me in this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper.
“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.”
That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment.
Fuck it.
“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down.
Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.”
You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy.
You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed.
You're so wet.
And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.
Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.
And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake.
“These will do?”
You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him.
“Yep.”
You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection.
“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?”
“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you.
“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?”
“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?”
“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?”
“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…”
You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind.
And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.
Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.
Oh God, you want to kiss him.
His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?”
Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.”
You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch.
“How do you like being kissed?”
You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours.
It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would.
Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair.
His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before.
That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn.
Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again.
The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt.
You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?”
Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant.
Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it.
Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you.
“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.”
You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him.
You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should.
There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them.
And he notices it too.
“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.”
You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.”
Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw.
“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…”
Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…”
“Am I wrong?”
You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again.
“Of course I'm not.”
You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most.
“Can I take this off?”
“Fuck, y-yes.”
Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere.
“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with your hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.”
He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well.
But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed.
“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.”
“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?”
“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.”
“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.”
“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well.
The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't.
“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.”
You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?”
He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better.
You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling.
You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck.
You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well.
“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.”
“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.”
“Y-you do?”
“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself.
“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your middle finger makes its way into your cavity without much effort.
Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.
“And then, two fingers.”
“Mhm.”
“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even notice before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?”
He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied.
Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to.
And it's all because of him.
You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and…
He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight.
You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.
But Mingi is not just any man.
“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.”
“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—”
“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.”
His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out.
“Prove that bitch wrong.”
That seems to do it.
His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected.
Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him.
His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise.
“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you.
Fuck.
It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it.
“That feels so good…”
“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips.
You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.”
The worries die altogether with that.
And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop.
It's not long before his middle joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort.
His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement.
“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.”
He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.
“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?”
Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!”
He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing.
You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit.
When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do.
A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing.
Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did.
That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life.
And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it.
Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression.
It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride.
You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago.
“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.”
And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him.
But you don't mind it one bit.
You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace.
This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you.
“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality.
Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings.
“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.”
The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own.
Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock.
Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours.
“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N”
“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…”
“Fuck, don't beg me, love.”
“Don't make me beg, then.”
What the fuck are you even doing?
“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why.
But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through.
He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes.
“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now.
“Bathroom. Now.”
You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.
Don't get caught.
Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens.
When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle.
“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!”
“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.
You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that.
“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..”
“You think?” cocking your head to the side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point.
He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now.
You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway.
“Okay, we're safe now.”
“When were we ever not safe?”
“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!”
He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back.
You clear your throat.
“I really did want to help you out but—”
“Raincheck?” he asks and at your hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?”
“Okay.”
He smiles again “Good, uh…”
Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here.
Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible.
“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper.
“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone.
That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner.
“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.”
Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him.
It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much.
It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic.
“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod.
“See you tomorrow.”
And with that, he leaves.
You lock the door and practically run to your room after.
What the fuck have you done?
If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part!
© jensthwa, 2024.
#ateez#ateez x reader#song mingi#song mingi x reader#mingi#mingi x reader#mingi smut#ateez smut#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez hard hours#mingi hard hours#mingi hard thoughts#first post!!!#pls tell me if u like it or if u dont or anything pls my askbox is open#<333#fic; s&t
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☆ texting bf!ateez while they’re on tour
- i saw ateez last weekend and miss them so bad so this is how I cope 😇
warnings: kys joke, swearing, reader is a freak tbh, some nsfw?
- requests are open for multiple groups pssttt !!
#creds to yunho on my phone on twt for yunhos meme#first post omfg…#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez x reader#ateez texts#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#kpop smau#kpop x reader
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“‘I just…I thought you might like to come back, one day,’ Crowley said very quietly. Aziraphale’s foot pressed against his again, and Crowley drew in a sudden breath, as if he hadn’t been breathing properly since Aziraphale had stopped touching him.”
This piece was a commission from the lovely @fellshish for their lovely friend, @alphacentaurinebula ‘s fic What Are You Doing Here? This fic is cute, funny, heartwarming, and incredibly spicy, and I’m very much looking forward to finishing it! Thank you Fells for being wonderful to work with, and happy (belated) birthday to you Alphacentauri, I’m very happy I could do this for you!
#I had the quote the fic it’s just so good#and cute#good omens#art#illustration#my art#aziraphale#crowley#ineffable husbands#good omens fanart#ALPHAAAAAAAA HAPPY BIRTHDAY#I’m so happy was asked to make art for the both of you y’all are so wonderful and nice to work with#I really hope you enjoy it#❤️❤️❤️❤️🎈🎁🎁🎈🎈🎁🎁🎁🎈🎈🎁🎁🎈🎈🎉🎊🎊🎉🎉#everyone go read the fanfic plsss#even if smut isn’t your thing the first chapter is incredibly good as a stand alone#good omens fanfiction
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NICHOLAS CHAVEZ
WARNINGS: mdni ; pinv ; fem!reader ; size kink ; degradation if you squint
A/N: i saw these beefy pictures and knew i had to write something abt it. reader is an actor and nicholas is visiting on set <3
his large figure covered yours. your back pressed into his chest as he pounded into you against the wall of your trailer. the trailer squeaked with his ruthless movements.
you moaned, gasping out as his tip kissed your cervix. “oh my-,” you could feel him bulging in your stomach.
his hand grabbed yours, guiding it to your lower abdomen as he thrusted even deeper than before. “feel that, baby?” his voice was prideful and smug. you could feel his cock pushing against your stomach with each thrust. “feel me rearranging your insides with my dick?”
you whimpered out a incoherent response, the pleasure overloading your senses. you could feel every vein and ridge of his cock plowing into you and ripping through your core. you began to push your hips back, meeting his hips. he growled and started moving faster. his balls slapped against your ass as you mumbled sinful profanities under your breath.
then, just as you were approaching your high, he pulled out, flipping you around so you were facing him. he picked you up swiftly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he aligned his length with your sopping core once more. he held you like you weighed nothing. you gripped the white shirt that clung to his muscles perfectly.
“so fucking tight.” he grunted, his head in the crook of your neck as he kept a steady pace. he repeatedly hit your g-spot, causing your walls to clench around his girth. “you’re so perfect. my perfect little slut.” he said through gritted teeth. his eyes were glued to where the two of you met. your selfish pussy sucking him in with each thrust.
“i’m close!”
“let go ‘f me, baby.” his hands reached towards your breasts, playing with your hardened nipples. and that’s all it took for you to reach your climax. your cum soaked his cock, making a creamy ring around the base.
he moaned at the feeling of your warm juices around him. he held your hips with his hand as he mercilessly plunged into you. your velvet walls contracted around him and he finally released his load deep inside you.
#first nicholas chavez writing#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez#grotesquerie#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez smut#nora’s writings 💐
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pranking jjk men by making “babe” autocorrect to “whore” in their phone
ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna
ʚ cont: suggestiveness, crack
MINORS AND AGELESSBLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
#forgot to add tojis the first time i posted WHOOPS LOL#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader#geto smut#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#jjk smau#gojo smau#geto smau#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x reader#nanami smut#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#choso smut#choso jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#toji smut#toji smau#fushiguro toji x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna ryomen smut#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#sukuna x reader
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Big boy Nanami Kento
Ib: @screampied ^ - ^
Kento had lost it. You’re on your stomach, while he lays on top of you, your arms by your side, him hugging you from behind and spreading your legs using his, your fighting to stay conscious as his weight crushes you. He’s seeking his own release at this point, panting and heaving, his head hanging at your ear and you can feel his huff and puffs down the side of your neck meanwhile with every deep sloppy thrust from his rutting hips, all that escapes your mouth are puffs of air as his weight smacks on top of you. Normally, he’s very considerate and cares to watch how hard he’s on you, but after being pent up stuck at the office, the long day he had, and you offering to be his release, he couldn’t hold back.
All you can think is how good it feels. His breath on your ear, the kisses on your neck, his sticky, sweaty, heaving chest your back, his abdomen tensing, his hips thrusting unforgivingly into your arousal each force creating its own erotic sound, his legs wrapped around yours. His deep moans fill the room as you imagine how attractive his disheveled hair & broad-shoulders must look on top of you making you tense up even more.
Then there it is, he picks up the pace chasing his high sloppily shoving himself in you while you press your hips again his chasing your own. He releases himself and you do too and you can feel his hot orgasm inside of you starting to drip out the sides of him as he rides out the pleasure by not even thrusting anymore, but grinding himself while inside. His entire body weight is on you now as he grinds inside of you, your body moving with his. You can’t wait to offer to be his release again.
#🔞.smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami smut#kento x reader#jjk x reader#this is my first fic#this is so embarrassing
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No One's Ever Had Me (Not Like You)
Summary: After JJ's insensitive remarks toward Spencer become too much to ignore, Y/N steps in to comfort him, igniting a friendship that rapidly grows into something more. Though Y/N falls for him first, Spencer soon finds himself falling even harder, realizing no one has ever cared for him the way she does—and he's ready to return it in full.
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Oral/Facesitting (f!receiving), dirty talk, praise kink (if you squint), masturbating (m!only), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex/PinV sex (wrap it before you tap it lovelies pls), c** swallowing (I don't know how else to put that HAHAHA), slight overstim (for both parties), slightly ooc!JJ (for the plot), one brief argument scene between the reader and JJ. Fluff and smut. Coworkers to friends to lovers.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader/afab!reader
A/N: I love a little "she fell first, he fell harder" trope, so I'm hoping you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) I am once again pleading my case that I am NOT a JJ hater!! I just saw a clip of this scene from season 3 and was inspired because I too have been in Spencer's shoes and honestly it hurts, so I wanted to change up the outcome a little bit. The title comes from Taylor Swift's "So High School" but the fic isn't necessarily based around the song if that makes sense. As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)
Y/N had never been particularly fond of JJ. They worked well together, of course—professionalism came first—but there was something about JJ that rubbed her the wrong way. It felt so high school to say, but Y/N had always seen her as a bit of a "mean girl."
Y/N had joined the BAU a year after Spencer, and she’d witnessed firsthand the awkwardness when Spencer, shy and eager, had asked JJ to go to a football game with him as a date after Gideon had given him tickets. A sweet, innocent gesture, only for JJ to show up with Penelope in tow, turning the evening into a humiliating disaster for Spencer. That was just one of the many moments Y/N had found herself bristling at JJ's treatment of him. Despite JJ’s consistent indifference and occasional cruelty, Spencer’s feelings for her had never wavered.
Until today.
Spencer sat across from JJ on the jet, eager to share his excitement about the book he was reading and its similarities with Pinocchio, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm as he rambled on. He barely noticed the lack of interest in JJ's eyes, her eyebrows raised in a near-sarcastic expression as she muttered a disinterested "Wow" in the middle of his sentence. She tossed the case file onto the table without a second glance and stood. "Interesting. Coffee?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, her smile a brittle, saccharine mask.
Spencer froze, his words dying in his throat as she swiftly walked away. He felt a sinking sensation in his chest—an awkward mix of humiliation and disappointment. Was he that annoying? His hands trembled slightly as he glanced down at the book in his lap, the pages now feeling heavier than they had moments ago. He cleared his throat, but the discomfort lingered, thick in the air.
Y/N had been watching the whole exchange from her spot on the couch, her eyes narrowing as she watched JJ throw her head back in a loud laugh at something Morgan had said about “escaping the robot” from across the jet. That was the breaking point. Y/N's stomach twisted with frustration. She was tired—so tired—of watching JJ repeatedly gut the sweet boy simply because he had a hopeless crush on her, one that JJ clearly saw as beneath her.
Swinging her legs from where they were tucked underneath her, Y/N stood and made her way to the seat JJ had previously been occupying, sliding into it abruptly.
Spencer’s head jerked up as she quickly filled the seat, blinking hard as confusion washed over his features. “Oh! Uh, hey Y/N… was there something you needed?” he asked softly, his gaze dropping back to the table, hoping she wouldn’t notice the wounded look in his eyes.
“I was listening to your conversation earlier and wanted to ask if you would continue. Please.”
Spencer’s mouth parted in surprise, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. She… wanted to listen to him? He swallowed, his brows furrowing slightly as he hesitated before speaking. “You... you don’t have to do that just to make me feel better, you know.”
Y/N shook her head firmly, her hands coming together on the table as she leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving his. “Spencer,” she said softly, her voice steady. “I’m not asking you to continue because I feel sorry for you. I’m asking because I actually want to hear what you have to say.” Her tone was gentle yet sincere, and there was no mistaking the genuine interest in her words.
Spencer’s heart raced as he stared at her, his mind struggling to catch up with the moment before he finally opened his mouth, stumbling over the words to continue his excited rant from earlier. Spencer felt something shift inside him with every hum of acknowledgment, nod, and occasional question or light joke. It hit him all at once—this was how she always spoke to him: fully engaged, genuinely curious. She didn’t see him as the genius or the outcast. She saw him as... just Spencer. A person. Not a curiosity. Not a burden. Just him.
And for the rest of the flight, Y/N encouraged Spencer to spill every single thought that came to mind, entranced by the sweet boy in front of her for the entire time.
It was late when they finally landed, the team worn out and eager to get home. With quick goodbyes and Hotch’s promise of a day off tomorrow, the group trickled out of the office, one by one. When Spencer was left alone in the bullpen, he let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he sat at his desk under the guise of needing to look for something before leaving. His thoughts kept drifting back to the interaction with Y/N on the jet. He couldn’t shake it. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.
It wasn’t like they weren’t already friends—talking to her was nothing out of the ordinary. But something about their interaction today felt different. Maybe it was how quickly she’d stepped in when she saw he was hurt? Then again, the more Spencer thought about it, the more he realized that wasn’t all that unusual either. He’d often felt out of place—whether it was the team’s teasing that sometimes went too far, JJ’s backhanded compliments that left him more bewildered than flattered, or the officers who looked past him because of his age or appearance.
And every time, without fail, Y/N had been there. She was always the one picking up the pieces of his bruised confidence, offering him quiet support with nothing more than a kind word or a warm smile, never asking for anything in return.
“Spencer?”
Spencer jumped, the unexpected voice pulling him out of his thoughts. He spun around in his seat, heart racing, to find Y/N standing there, her hands raised in a placating gesture. He’d thought she’d already left with the rest of the team, but apparently, he’d been wrong.
“Whoa, take it easy—it's just me. Are you okay?” Y/N approached slowly, her expression softening with concern as Spencer took slow, deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart.
“Uh, yeah! I-I’m fine,” Spencer stammered, wincing as his voice cracked. “I just… I thought everyone had already left.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said with a chuckle, flashing a sheepish grin. “I told Hotch I’d drop everything off in evidence before heading out, but I kind of took my time.” She shrugged, then glanced at him. “What about you? Why are you still here?”
Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he thought about her question. What was he still doing here, other than overthinking a simple conversation on the jet? He cleared his throat and stood up from his desk. “I thought I left a certain book here, but... it turns out it’s actually at home.” The weak excuse was followed by a nervous laugh as Spencer fidgeted with his fingers, silently hoping she wouldn’t question him further.
It seemed luck was on his side, as she nodded slowly—her disbelief clear, but deciding not to press. Instead, she offered a soft smile and tilted her head toward the elevator. “Well, if you're heading out now, would you like to walk with me to my car?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with a hint of hope. “I can give you a ride so you don’t have to take the metro so late.”
Spencer was momentarily surprised by the offer, but before he could overanalyze it, he found himself nodding. She’d offered him rides before, and he’d always turned her down, worried he’d be inconveniencing her or that she was just being polite. But tonight, after the grueling case, he felt too drained to talk himself out of it. Honestly, he wasn’t opposed to spending a little more time with her—just the two of them.
“Um… that would be really nice, actually. Thank you.”
Y/N waved it off with a playful grin. “It’s really no big deal, Spencer. I honestly wish you'd take me up on it more often. I worry about you on those late trains, and I live just five minutes from you. It’d be nice to have some company on the way home.”
They continued their light conversation the entire way to the parking garage, pausing only when they got to her car. Y/N fumbled with her keys, unlocking the doors quickly before they slid inside.
The first thing Spencer noticed was the sweet fragrance of her perfume, filling the small space around them. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but now he found himself trying hard not to breathe in too deeply, captivated by the scent and wanting more of it. The smell of her shampoo blended with the fragrance, intensifying as she turned her head to back out of her parking spot. Spencer hadn’t even realized the car had started until that moment.
The next thing he noticed was the sticker on her dash reading Amor Fati. A faint smile curled at his lips as he shifted his gaze to her. He watched her silently for a moment as she focused on the road.
“Lover of fate, huh?”
“Hm?” Y/N frowned in confusion, shooting him a quick sideways glance as she stopped at a red light. It took a moment before she realized what he was referring to. “Oh, yeah. What about it, doc?” She chuckled, her voice light and teasing.
Spencer hummed, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, nothing… But, did you know that Friedrich Nietzsche built most of his philosophy around that phrase?”
They plunged into a lively conversation, exchanging thoughts on various philosophers and their personal interpretations of the phrase. Spencer was captivated. The only other person who had ever indulged him in such “nerdy” discussions was Penelope (mostly about Doctor Who, of course). It was oddly refreshing, but at the same time, it only added fuel to the fire of his overthinking.
What was it that kept him so hopelessly fixated on JJ? She could be a good friend at times—he wouldn’t deny that—but there were moments when he felt like nothing more than a charity case. Like that kid who clings to someone at school, oblivious to the fact that they don’t actually want to talk to them. She was beautiful, of course—anyone could see that. But they didn’t share much in common, and their hobbies barely aligned. So why did he always end up seeking her out, when there were so many other people he could spend time with?
After the incident on the jet, Spencer had made a decision. He was done pouring so much energy into the blonde liaison and instead would focus on building a genuine friendship with Y/N. Not just the casual co-worker relationship they had, but something real. Maybe that’s why her sudden attention on the jet had caught him off guard. Maybe it wasn’t a crush forming, but rather a deep-rooted loneliness, a subconscious desire for a true friend. That had to be it.
The drive to his apartment seemed to fly by, and as Spencer stepped out of the car, he was surprised by the sense of reluctance that settled over him. He murmured his thanks and goodnight to Y/N, offering a shy smile, his thoughts lingering on the brief but unexpected moment of connection.
"Hey, Spencer?" Y/N called just as he was about to close the door. He paused, and she went on, her tone genuine. "I meant what I said. If you ever want to skip the metro and ride with me instead, I’d love the company. Honestly, I enjoyed our drive so much more than the usual Top 40 hits on the radio."
Spencer’s smile grew, a hesitant nod accompanying the soft bite of his lower lip. This was the opportunity to build something real with her, and for once, he decided not to second-guess it. “I’d really like that, actually.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, a blend of relief and excitement bubbling up inside her. A smile spread across her face as she let out a soft breath. "Great. I’m looking forward to it," she said, her voice warm. "Goodnight, Spencer. Enjoy your day off tomorrow."
The first week of Spencer’s newfound behavior had Y/N feeling… disoriented, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t a bad feeling, not at all. She was genuinely thrilled by the extra attention, but she couldn’t quite figure out what had caused the sudden shift in their dynamic.
Spencer had begun riding home with her after work, both of them quickly growing fond of the newfound companionship. Throughout the day, he found himself gravitating toward her desk more often, offering to help with paperwork or providing a second opinion when she second guessed something. As they spent more time together, their conversations became easier—what had started as awkward exchanges soon evolved into Spencer initiating talks, no longer waiting for her to take the lead.
The irritated huff that escaped JJ’s lips as she stormed past everyone and into her office after Spencer politely declined her offer to sit with her and sort through case files, made it clear—Y/N wasn’t the only one noticing the change.
The next notable shift came when the BAU was called to California for a case. As everyone filed onto the jet and took their usual seats, there was one exception: Spencer Reid. When Y/N settled onto the couch, she was greeted by a soft, uncertain voice.
“Can I join you?” Spencer asked, his fingers nervously tugging at the end of his cardigan sleeves as he blinked at her with those sweet, vulnerable brown eyes.
The entire team glanced up in surprise, caught off guard by Spencer's decision not to take his usual spot across from JJ. Y/N, both puzzled and pleased, quickly moved to make space, patting the seat beside her with an encouraging smile.
"Of course, Spence. Go right ahead."
Spencer let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders drooping in relief as he settled into the seat next to Y/N, the tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying easing from his body. Ignoring the gawking from the others, he leaned in slightly, feeling more at ease in her presence. As Y/N opened the case file, he glanced at her with a small smile, ready to dive into the work with her by his side.
Morgan chuckled from across the jet, looking at JJ with raised brows as she scoffed to herself. "What'd you do to piss off the kid?"
“I didn’t do anything! And when did she start calling him ‘Spence’?” JJ grumbled, her arms crossed defensively as she narrowed her eyes at the two of them.
“Whoa,” Morgan muttered, his smile dropping into a frown. “Didn’t realize I was hitting a sore spot. What’s it matter what she calls him, anyway?”
JJ stiffened, her words catching in her throat as she struggled to respond. Morgan was right—she wasn’t the only one who could give Spencer a nickname. But that was her name for him, and it stung a little more now, given the distance that had been growing between them.
"It’s nothing," JJ replied quickly, forcing a casual shrug. "I was just surprised, that’s all." But even as she spoke, she couldn’t shake the unease lingering in her chest, unsure why it bothered her so much.
The remainder of the flight was spent with the team discussing the case, Hotch assigning tasks for when they touched down. Once they had gone over everything they could, the conversation tapered off, and silence settled over the cabin. Each team member retreated into their own thoughts, but Y/N and Spencer remained deep in discussion, quietly exchanging ideas about the unsub.
As they leaned in to continue their conversation, they unknowingly inched closer, drawn together by the ease of their shared focus. And when Spencer felt Y/N's knee brush against his, he kept his leg still, savoring the contact in silence—his secret to keep.
It took Spencer just over two months to finally gather the courage to ask Y/N to hang out outside of work or their shared car rides—something he had started contributing to so he could get more comfortable with driving. She’d quickly climbed the ranks of people he favored and felt comfortable with, but the fear of rejection still held him back. He didn’t want to jeopardize the connection they’d built, especially when it felt so important to him.
Spencer’s fear dissolved when he asked Y/N to come over and watch a film he’d picked up at an antique shop. Her excited smile and enthusiastic "Duh, I'd love to!" made him realize that she’d likely been waiting for him to take the first step all along.
He was grateful for how Y/N allowed him to move at his own pace, understanding that his accelerated path through high school and college had made it difficult for him to form connections. She never rushed him, giving him the space to open up when he was ready and letting their relationship develop naturally.
Y/N arrived at Spencer’s apartment, her arms loaded with snacks and dressed in cozy clothes, her excitement palpable. She enjoyed their car rides, of course, but an hour together hardly seemed enough compared to the time she truly longed to spend with him.
Y/N had been captivated by Spencer for years, but the more time they spent together, the harder her heart beat for him—every smile, every laugh, every conversation only added to her growing feelings. She told herself she was content with just being friends, that having him in her life, even in the smallest way, was enough. But deep down, she knew the truth—her heart yearned for something more, something that seemed just out of reach.
"Y/N! Hi, welcome in!"
The door swung open to reveal Spencer, his grin wide with excitement as he motioned for her to step inside. The sight of him—beaming with an almost childlike enthusiasm—made her smile in return. His apartment matched her expectations in the best way possible: shelves overflowing with books and quirky knick-knacks, soft, ambient light spilling from lamps that cast a cozy glow across the room, and a desk strewn with an organized mess of case files and open journals. It was a perfect reflection of Spencer—intellectually chaotic, but with an undeniable charm and warmth.
Spencer's heart skipped a beat as she entered the living room, and for a moment, he lost track of everything around him. He had always seen her dressed up for work—polished, professional, a perfect image of control. But now, in her casual clothes, with her hair down and no hint of the usual makeup, she looked entirely different.
She was still stunning, but it was a softer kind of beauty, one that crept up on him and left him breathless before he even realized it. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable at first glance, but once he took her in, he couldn’t seem to pull his focus away. Spencer had always thought he knew Y/N, but this version of her… this version felt like a secret he wasn’t ready to discover yet.
"Where would you like these?" Y/N asked, lifting her arms up with the snacks.
The sound of her voice broke Spencer from his daze, and he quickly moved to help, grabbing a few items to set them down on the coffee table. "Oh, uh, you didn’t have to bring snacks," he stammered, his hands fumbling with the food as he awkwardly rearranged it. "I was just going to order takeout or something. You’re the guest," he added, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush. His mind was racing, still caught in the subtle sweetness of her perfume that lingered in the air as he leaned in to grab the bags, making it hard to focus.
Y/N shrugged, a small grin playing on her lips as she set the snacks down. "I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And if you’re still craving takeout later, I won't stop you from ordering it. Sound good?"
He nodded, his nose twitching as he grinned, feeling his tension ease. It was just Y/N, he reminded himself. There was no reason to feel this flustered.
An hour later, with the movie playing and a bag of gummy bears between them, Spencer quickly realized he'd been wrong. He had plenty of reasons to feel flustered.
The film, which had subtitles, was riddled with translation errors. Each time a jumbled sentence appeared, Y/N would lean in close, her breath warm against his ear causing shivers up and down his spine as she whispered, "What does that one mean?" Her thigh brushed against his, neither of them making any effort to break the contact. Spencer felt an almost electric warmth spread through him from the slight touch, his body aching for more. Was he really that starved for affection?
That night seemed to crack something deep inside him, like a dam giving way to a flood of longing for touch.
Spencer—who had always been wary of physical contact—now found himself drawn to Y/N in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Every time they handed each other papers or worked on case files together, he’d make sure their fingers brushed. As he passed by her desk, he’d let his fingers trace along her shoulder blades, offering her a quiet smile that she always returned. After particularly exhausting days, he’d seek her out, leaning into her embrace, letting her arms offer him comfort and grounding. And during their hangouts, Spencer no longer hesitated to inch closer, letting his side press against hers, or allowing her to stretch her legs over his lap. The proximity felt natural, and he couldn’t help but crave it more.
It only got worse as time went on. He couldn't keep his hands off of her. It wasn't just casual touches anymore—it was almost as if every opportunity to be near her was a chance to close the distance between them. Y/N couldn't get enough of it. And the team? They definitely noticed. JJ, in particular, seemed to pick up on it right away.
JJ had attempted to confront Spencer about his growing closeness with Y/N before, but each time, he waved her off, insisting that he and Y/N had simply discovered they had more in common than he'd realized and that he just wanted to be her friend. JJ wasn’t convinced—not for a second. It was obvious to her that Spencer was falling for Y/N, and for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it left a bad taste in her mouth. It wasn’t that she harbored romantic feelings for him, but she had grown accustomed to his attention. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed being the one to receive it.
The tension finally boiled over when the team was dispatched to a case in Oregon.
It had been six months since the incident on the jet, and Y/N and Spencer had become almost inseparable. Garcia and Morgan, delighted by their closeness, often teased them and playfully begged them to just admit they were dating—though both vehemently insisted that their relationship was purely platonic. Rossi and Emily often exchanged knowing looks on the jet, with Emily even going so far as to snap a picture of Y/N and Spencer sleeping on the couch after a case—a cute picture featuring Spencer’s head resting on Y/N’s and her face tucked into his shoulder as they peacefully dozed together. Even Hotch seemed to approve, having reviewed the Bureau’s internal fraternization policies just in case Strauss raised an issue. The only person who didn’t seem thrilled about it was JJ.
Two days in Oregon, and the team was already facing an uphill battle. They’d been working non-stop to build a profile for the unsub, but so far, nothing had gone right. There were no witnesses who could provide a description, a local officer had already compromised key evidence from the first crime scene, and the victims seemed to have no clear link to one another. Frustration was mounting for everyone, but for JJ it was mounting for an entirely separate reason.
Spencer had been managing his frustration through subtle touches with Y/N—brief brushes of his hand against her lower back as he passed, pressing his head into her shoulder with a frustrated groan after combing through their limited information for hours... But the moment that pushed JJ to her breaking point was when Spencer, noticing an officer staring at Y/N, pulled her possessively into him, his hand firmly gripping her waist until that officer left the room.
"Y/N?"
JJ's voice was tight as she stepped into the conference room the local officers had set up for the BAU to use during their case, spotting Y/N standing in front of the pinned-up map of the area as she studied the locations where the victims had been found. Spencer had just left, going to start more coffee for them since they were running low. The rest of the team was out in the field, reinvestigating the crime scenes for anything that may have been missed initially.
Y/N looked up, her brow furrowing as JJ closed the door. They weren’t close on a personal level, and Y/N couldn’t think of any reason, related to the case or otherwise, for JJ to want to speak with her alone.
"...Yes?"
JJ lingered near the end of the table, her arms crossed across her chest as she leveled Y/N with a look that immediately had her on edge. "I’m not trying to pry, but as his best friend, I have to ask… what’s going on between you and Spencer?" Her face was twisted in a scowl, her head tilting as she waited for a response.
Y/N's eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline at that, a scoffed laugh leaving her lips before she could stop it. His best friend. Was she serious?
"Excuse me?"
"What's going on with you and Spencer?" JJ repeated, her voice deliberate. "Everyone’s noticed how he’s been acting—the constant touching, for one, is a bit much, don’t you think? He never wants to hang out with me anymore. It’s like he's all about you now. So, are you two seeing each other or what?"
Y/N turned to face JJ fully, her lips tightening into a thin line as she took a steadying breath. Her audacity was astounding, truly. The last thing she wanted today was to argue with this fucking—
"That's hilarious, Jennifer. Really," Y/N chuckled lowly, shaking her head. "Have you ever considered that maybe—just maybe—Spencer is an adult who can make his own decisions? I’m not the reason he doesn't want to spend time with you."
JJ stiffened at the mention of her name, scoffing in response. "Oh, clearly you have something to do with it. Before you started driving him home, he followed me around like a lost puppy. Now he barely even wants to be around me!"
That struck a nerve in Y/N, like a live wire finally sparked to life. A lost puppy? Was that truly how little she thought of him? Y/N's head tilted, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone as she spoke again.
"Don't you ever talk about Spencer like that again. He's not your fucking pet, Jennifer!"
Her voice was menacing as she stepped forward, grim satisfaction coursing through her as JJ stumbled backward.
"Spencer is a brilliant, capable man who’s never deserved the way you or anyone else have made him feel less than that. We’re not dating. But if we were, I wouldn’t be ashamed of him. Unlike you, who found the idea of a man like him adoring you repulsive instead of seeing it for the gift it was. Spencer Reid is a fucking treasure, and it’s entirely your fault you never realized how lucky you were to have his attention."
Y/N's face was flushed red with anger, her chest heaving as she seethed.
"So again, I have nothing to do with him not wanting to spend time with you anymore. Maybe he finally realized that you're just not as great of a person as you pretend to be."
Rather than waiting for the teary-eyed, speechless blonde to reply, Y/N grabbed her things and stormed out, heading out to take an early lunch. But as she swung the door open, she was met with Spencer standing right there, and before she could react, she collided with his chest. His hands immediately flew to her waist, steadying her as she looked up sheepishly.
"Shit! I’m sorry, Spence," Y/N muttered, still fuming from her conversation with JJ. Her face turned even redder when she realized he might have heard some of it, but she didn’t regret a word of what she’d said.
He hadn't just heard some of it... He'd heard all of it. When he’d left earlier, he’d turned back, intending to ask if she wanted to take a break from the map. Instead, he had been met with the sight of JJ closing the door, and he curiously (shamefully) pressed up against it to know what was going on.
Admittedly, it stung to hear JJ talk about him like that, even though he already knew she'd taken advantage of his past crush on her. But Y/N's words and how she defended him hit him harder than expected. It became clear in that instant—no one had ever been there for him the way she always had been, and somewhere along the way, he'd fallen deeply in love with her.
"Hey, hey, it’s alright," Spencer said quietly, his hands smoothing over her waist before resting gently on her shoulders. "Go take your lunch. You’ve earned a break. I’ll keep working on the geographical profile until you return."
Y/N offered a weary but grateful smile before walking away, leaving Spencer alone to process the revelation weighing on him.
That night, Spencer paced his hotel room, caught between waiting until they were home to tell Y/N how he felt or just saying it now. He felt like an idiot for not recognizing it sooner, for convincing himself his feelings for her were purely platonic. But now that he knew, it consumed him. He wanted to shout it to the heavens, to tell the world he was in love with her.
Spencer knew what he had to do. He realized that confessing his feelings in the middle of a case wasn’t ideal, but the thought of waiting any longer to let her know how much she meant to him was unbearable. That’s why, before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself standing outside her door at midnight, knocking softly.
"Spence? You okay?"
Her sleepy voice tugged at his heart as she opened the door, rubbing her eyes and letting out a soft yawn. She smiled faintly, gesturing for him to come in. The room was cloaked in darkness, but the moonlight spilling through the curtains illuminated the crumpled sheets, evidence of her restless sleep.
His heart hammered in his chest as he breathed in unsteadily, lowering himself onto the edge of her bed. She crawled back to the middle, flicking on the bedside lamp, the soft light casting a warm glow between them. His courage started to falter, but the gentle concern in her eyes anchored him. He remembered why he was here—because with her, he felt safe enough to face this, no matter how vulnerable he felt.
"Y/N, I—" Spencer began, his voice catching for a moment, but he continued anyway. "I heard what happened with JJ earlier, and it made me realize something I should’ve recognized a long time ago. I was so caught up in denial that it didn’t hit me until now. And I’m so sorry for that…"
Oh, fuck. He was starting to ramble. This isn't how he wanted this to go at all—
"Y/N... I'm in love with you. I am so, so in love with you that it aches. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. And it’s not just the way you look, though I could spend hours talking about how stunning you are. It’s who you are, the goodness that radiates from you. You make me want to be better, to wake up every day and try to be at least half the person you are. You care for everyone around you like it’s your purpose, and I want to be the one who takes care of you for once because you truly deserve that. I’ve never felt anything like this, and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. But I just—I needed you to know."
Y/N’s jaw dropped as Spencer’s confession filled the air, her eyes welling with tears as the words she had longed for spilled from him. She moved swiftly, sitting up from the pillows and crawling toward him, a tear dripping down her cheek as she rested her hands on his shoulders.
"I love you too, Spencer Reid," she breathed, her voice trembling with sincerity. "I love you with everything I am."
Spencer’s lungs burned as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He returned her watery smile, his heart overflowing with love for the woman before him. Carefully, he cupped her face, his thumb following the line of her cheeks, his eyes filled with a quiet mix of wonder and adoration.
“Can I kiss you? Please?”
Her lips were on his the second he uttered the last syllable.
The kiss was both gentle and intense, their lips meeting with a deliberate slowness as if savoring every moment of crossing the line from friendship into something more. There was a hunger beneath the tenderness, an unspoken yearning finally being released. Their lips parted for only a second, allowing them to suck in a quick breath before they were back on each other. Each kiss was a quiet revelation, better than they had ever dreamed.
What started as an innocent declaration of their feelings for each other quickly evolved into something more ravenous as Spencer’s tongue prodded at the seam of her lips. The soft exhale Y/N released as their tongues brushed together had Spencer groaning, one of his hands sliding to cradle the back of her head as he savored the taste of her and the feeling of her lips against his. His other hand gingerly slid down her body, settling on her hip as he leaned forward, guiding her to rest against the pillows.
Y/N’s thighs parted eagerly to make room for him between them, her hands lacing through his hair as she tugged him impossibly closer. His elbows dug into the mattress beside her body as he hovered above her, swallowing the moan that slipped from her lips when their hips pressed together. He chased her lips when she tipped her head back, kissing her with an intensity that made her dizzy and had her whining into his mouth.
"I-I want— Spence, please—"
Y/N pleaded as his lips trailed down the side of her neck to suck a mark into her collarbone, though she wasn't even sure what she was begging for. She just knew she needed him. Her body felt like it was aflame, ignited by the spark that was Spencer's tongue soothing the possessive bruise now blooming across her skin. She needed him so desperately that her mind became a blur, consumed by an endless craving, unable to focus on anything but the overwhelming desire for more—more of him, more of this, more of everything he offered.
The thin fabric of their pajamas did little to conceal the feeling of his stiff cock grinding against her in subtle rocks of his hips as his hands began to roam her body, only adding to the overwhelming need she felt coursing through her. Spencer hushed her with a gentle peck, his lips lingering against hers for a brief, sweet moment before he moved to kiss her nose, her cheeks, and finally her forehead. With each gentle kiss, she couldn't help but giggle softly, her laughter melting into the space between them.
"I know, pretty girl. You're already so worked up and all I've done is kiss you," he cooed, the words taking her by surprise. He wasn't wrong. A wet patch had started seeping through the cotton of her pants, something his fingers had taken an interest in as he began to lightly skim up and down her clit with his knuckles over the damp fabric. "No one ever takes care of you, do they, baby? Let me be the one to take care of you, Y/N. Please?" He paused, gently lifting her chin so he could meet her gaze.
Spencer’s words quieted the storm raging inside her, and she took a deep breath, her body finally relaxing. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt such a strong desire to let go, to stop carrying the weight of everything alone. To finally surrender and let someone take care of her. So she did exactly that.
"Yes. God, yes. Please, Spencer," Y/N whispered, her eyes searching his, full of need and trust.
It was as if a switch flipped the moment Spencer got the confirmation he needed.
His lips were back on hers in an instant, devouring her as though she'd melt away if he stopped touching her for even a second. He rolled them over, breaking the kiss to glide his hands underneath the rumpled t-shirt Y/N had on for bed and lifting it over her head in one swift motion. Ignoring her soft squeal of surprise, he brought his hands down to her hips, massaging the skin there before sliding his hands under the waistband of her pajama pants to grip her ass.
"Look at you… You're nothing short of incredible. Absolutely breathtaking," Spencer murmured, staring up at her in awe. The soft brown of his eyes had faded, overtaken by the dark void of his dilated pupils, as if a veil had been drawn across them. "I can't even begin to express how lucky I am to have you... how beautiful you are."
Y/N’s cheeks flushed under his gaze, her teeth gently catching her lower lip as she placed her hands beside his head for support. She shivered as her nipples brushed against the fabric of his shirt, hardened by the cool air of the hotel room and the desire she felt coursing through her. She answered with a hum and ducked her head shyly, mouthing at the sensitive skin underneath his jaw as she wriggled impatiently in his hold.
Spencer chuckled breathlessly, squeezing her ass again before retracting his hands. His fingers danced along the waistband of her pants teasingly before he began to tug them down, dragging her panties with them. His heart raced as she wiggled out of them, hammering against his chest with a rhythm that felt almost deafening. He couldn’t comprehend what he’d done to deserve someone like her, but he would spend a lifetime making sure she knew just how precious she was to him.
"It's your turn to strip," Y/N mumbled as she sat up, straddling his waist as her hands found their way under his shirt. "I feel so... exposed."
Spencer’s brows quirked in amusement, a quiet laugh slipping out before he could stop it as she shoved the shirt up and over his head. She slithered down his body, grinning up at him before placing a kiss on his hip bone. His pants soon joined the growing pile of clothes on the ground, followed shortly after by his boxers.
"There. Is that better, sweetheart?" Spencer teased, but the words went completely unheard as she gawked at him.
Y/N kneeled between his spread legs, her hands planted firmly on his thighs as she took in the sight of him. He lay before her like something straight out of her most vivid dreams, more stunning than she’d ever imagined. He was effortlessly handsome—his hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from their kisses, and freckles and scars scattered across his shoulders and chest like a map of his past. His muscles were lean and toned, and the sparse hair trailing down beneath his belly button was far more enticing than it should've been. His cock was as pretty as he was, the flushed head of his more than impressive arousal matching the pink of his cheeks.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away.
"C'mere. I'm supposed to be taking care of you," Spencer grinned, motioning for Y/N to crawl back over him.
Instead of letting her settle with her thighs around his hips like she had previously been, he tugged insistently, her brows furrowing in confusion as she wobbled above him.
"Spencer, what—"
"Get up here," Spencer crooned, finally managing to maneuver her forward so her pussy hovered over his mouth. "And sit down."
Y/N's jaw dropped, her hands flying out to catch herself as she gripped the headboard. She was taken aback, utterly speechless. Here she was, being manhandled by Spencer Reid. The same quiet, awkward genius who rambled endlessly about statistics and couldn’t sit still for more than a minute was man-handling her and demanding she sit on his face. Was she dreaming?
"Are you— are you sure?" Y/N squeaked, staring down at him with wide eyes. "You really don't have to—"
Spencer turned his head so he could pepper open-mouthed kisses up and down her inner thigh, coaxing a soft moan from her as his warm breath fanned across her soaked folds.
"Stop all that worrying, pretty girl. I told you I'd take care of you—let me keep my word."
Before she could protest, Spencer gripped her hips, pulling her down at the same time he tilted his head up to lap his tongue over her core. Any hesitation Y/N had left evaporated from her body as a guttural moan ripped its way from her throat, her eyes fluttering shut as Spencer dragged his tongue over her clit. His movements were languid but hungry as he reveled in the taste of her, relishing her essence as though it was the very thing he needed to fuel his existence.
The air was filled with a mixture of moans and the slick sound of Spencer's mouth working between her legs, only amplifying the intense pleasure swimming through her body. Once Spencer was sure Y/N would stay put, he let one of his hands fall away from her hips, tracing it down his body until it wrapped around his cock. The breathy sounds she was letting out had him painfully hard, his thumb spreading the bead of precum spilling from the tip down the length of him as he began to pump himself.
"Oh, fuck—" Y/N whined as she forced her eyes open, turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of Spencer touching himself. The sight had her thighs trembling, a low groan rumbling in her throat as she turned her gaze down to look at him underneath her.
His eyes were squeezed shut, his brows pinched together in pleasure as his hand began to move faster. It was downright sinful. She'd never seen anything more beautiful.
Spencer alternated between fucking his tongue into her and sucking gently at her clit, the combination hurtling her toward her orgasm at a speed she never thought was possible. Y/N's hips rocked against his face, frantic whimpers slipping from her lips as her face began to scrunch in pleasure. The needy moans he was letting out against her skin pushed her over the edge as a sharp gasp broke free into the air, followed by a loud cry as her hands dropped from the headboard to tangle into his hair while she came.
Spencer whimpered as he let go of himself, instead using his hands to anchor her down while he gently worked her through her climax. He pressed a small kiss to her clit before she squirmed away, falling onto the bed beside him as her chest heaved. A look of adoration lingered on his face as he stroked her side and hair, pressing his lips to her forehead while she caught her breath.
Y/N flashed a small grin, rolling her eyes at his proud expression. A comforting heaviness settled in her limbs, pulling her deeper into the bed as she released a soft sigh. It took her a few moments to push herself up on her elbow, shifting to face him instead of lying flat on her back.
"How am I ever supposed to get anything done again now that I know you can do that?" Y/N murmured with a hint of exasperation, tilting her head to nuzzle her nose against his.
Spencer’s breath hitched as she draped her leg across his waist, hissing quietly as the head of his cock brushed against her warmth. He hummed, feigning thought before shrugging with a playful grin. "Could be a reward for a job well done," he teased, brushing a lingering kiss across her lips as his hand rubbed up and down her thigh.
"Yeah?" Y/N's hips began to slowly rock back and forth, the friction from his cock pressing between her folds making her head spin. "Well, can I reward you for a job well done then?"
Spencer's fingers flexed against her thigh, a low noise escaping him as he fought to keep his eyes on hers.
It made sense to him now why sailors would plummet into icy waters at the sound of a siren's call. If that call was anything as alluring as the sound of her voice, he'd happily do the same. She could demand the most heinous things of him right now and he'd do them simply because she asked.
But tonight was about her.
So instead of caving and begging for her touch, he shook his head, his lips quirking up at the pout forming on her lips. "As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, I'm supposed to be taking care of you, sweetheart. Not the other way around."
"Okay... so then take care of me by fucking me. Please?"
Spencer's resolve broke at her words. How could he possibly deny her? He'd be an absolute fool not to give her whatever her heart wished for.
His lips met hers in a fervent kiss as he moved to hover over her once more. Two of his fingers found her soaked pussy and sank inside of her with little resistance, a smug grin finding its way to his face as she gasped loudly into his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along her jaw before he whispered into her ear.
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
Y/N bucked her hips up into his touch, writhing underneath him as she nodded frantically. There wasn't a thing in this world that she wanted more. "Yes, Spence, please. Please fuck me. I need it—"
Spencer groaned, latching his lips onto the side of her neck as he inhaled sharply through his nose before he sat back on his heels. His fingers slipped out of her, her eyes widening as he brought the digits to his mouth and sucked them clean with a satisfied hum.
"Flip over."
Y/N followed his command without hesitation, the rush of anticipation making her feel almost detached, as though she were on autopilot, waiting to see what he would do next. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder before he reached for a pillow, tucking it underneath her hips to prop her up. A low whine emitted from her chest as she felt the flushed head of his arousal bump against her entrance, her hips canting back in an attempt to get him to push forward as he leaned forward, his chest brushing her back as he planted his hands into the mattress beside her.
"Do you want it like this, sweetheart? No condom? Because I can go find one..." Spencer murmured into her ear, his breathing labored as he teased her opening.
"Please— Wanna feel you, Spence," She whined into the pillow, arching her hips into his touch, though he remained just out of reach.
Spencer's eyes squeezed shut as a pang of arousal shot through him, taking a shuddering breath to mentally prepare himself not to blow his load before he even fucked her. With a kiss to the back of her head, Spencer began to press forward, easing into her inch by inch.
Y/N's mouth gaped open against the pillow she'd tugged underneath her head in a silent moan, the sensation of him finally filling her more intense than she'd expected. Her fingers gripped the sheets as he bottomed out, a pitiful whimper slipping free as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to adjust to the feeling. Her walls clenched around him instinctively as she adjusted, causing a broken moan to fall from his lips as his head rested against her shoulder, his breath puffing across her skin in warm bursts.
His right arm kept him braced above her while his left arm made its way under her chest, pulling her close as his hand began to grope at her breasts. His fingertips pinched one of her nipples, reveling in the soft moan she let out. "Are you ready for me to move, pretty girl?" He breathed, peppering kisses along the side of her face as he waited for her to relax.
At her nod, Spencer began to move, his thrusts slow but powerful as he repeatedly drove into her. He shifted up onto his knees, pulling her hips back into his languid thrusts as she moaned beneath him. The angle allowed him to brush her G-spot with every stroke, causing her toes to curl with each pang of pleasure that wracked her body. His hands squeezed the flesh of her ass, a low whine bubbling in his throat as he took in the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her.
It was downright erotic, the sight of her arousal coating the wiry curls at the base of him driving him insane. She was so fucking wet for him. The knowledge that he was making her feel this good made his head spin. He couldn't keep it to himself anymore. He needed to show her how deeply this was affecting him, to make her understand the intensity of the way she made him feel.
Everyone knew Spencer liked to run his mouth. It wasn't a surprise that this remained true during sex. What surprised Y/N, however, was how absolutely filthy of a mouth the man had. Spencer, the same Spencer who had barely uttered a curse in all the years she'd known him, was now stringing together words that would make even the most foul-mouthed person blush.
His pace increased with each word he murmured, small "ah, ah, ah's" spilling from her lips as he began to really pound into her.
"Does that feel good? Huh? Finally being taken care of the way you deserve?"
"Fuck— look at you, baby. Taking my cock so well. Do you like that? You like feeling me stretch you open?"
"Such a perfect pussy, sweetheart. So fucking good for me. So tight. My beautiful girl."
Every vulgar word he breathed into the space between them had her mind reeling, her body teetering on the edge of release as her walls fluttered around him. Desperate moans began to spill from her as she took everything he had to offer, her teeth digging into her lower lip to try to stifle the noises in an attempt not to wake everyone on that floor of the hotel. Spencer's gaze was locked on the way her ass rippled with each thrust, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as his brows pinched together and his mouth hung open.
"S-Spence— I'm so close—" Y/N whimpered, burying her face into the pillow beneath her as she moaned helplessly.
He dragged one of his hands away from where it was squeezing her hip, shoving it between her hips and the pillow propping her up as he began to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts. "Let go, sweet girl. Cum around my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."
She cried out at that, thrashing underneath him as the tension coiling in her lower belly finally snapped. Spencer's hips stuttered, a guttural moan wrenching its way from his throat as she squeezed around him, her legs trembling as one of the most powerful orgasms she'd ever experienced washed over her in waves.
"God— fuck, I'm about to cum," Spencer grunted, his eyes squeezing shut briefly as he swallowed hard, his chest heaving with exertion as he fucked her through it. "Where do you want it, pretty girl?"
"Wanna taste you... Spence, please—" Y/N slurred beneath him, weakly pushing up on her elbows to turn and look at him over her shoulder. Her bottom lip was swollen and lightly bruised from how hard she'd been biting at it, and her eyes were watery with unshed tears as the pleasure began to overwhelm her.
The sight of her looking so ruined almost had him spilling inside of her, and with a muffled curse he pulled out of her, fisting his cock as she rolled onto her back and stuck her tongue out patiently. He shuffled up her body, bracing himself with one hand against the headboard as he gazed down at her reverently. The amusement he felt from the brief feeling of deja vu from having her in a similar position earlier that night was short-lived as his head tipped back, a strained whimper filling the air as her tongue brushed against the head of his cock.
It only took a few pumps for him to cum, his eyes rolling back into his head when she sat up to take him further into her mouth as rope after rope of his essence flooded her throat. Y/N sucked gently, working him through his orgasm until his hips were jerking and he was whining, pulling off of his softening cock with a slick 'pop'. He crumpled onto the bed next to her, his heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage as he struggled to catch his breath.
Spencer wrapped her tightly in his arms, his lips brushing against the top of her head with soft, repeated kisses. Between each tender touch, he murmured how incredible she made him feel, how he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to share this life with her, let alone love her the way he did. Y/N whispered back, her voice soft but full of conviction, telling him how deeply she cherished him and how every part of her was filled with love for him.
Her fingers idly traced patterns across the flushed skin of his chest until he caught her hand, pressing tender kisses to her knuckles before quietly slipping out of bed. She groaned petulantly as he pulled her to her feet, ushering her towards the bathroom with a pat to her butt and a mumbled but passionate lecture on the timeframe after sex in which she needed to pee to avoid getting a UTI. Even though she knew he was right, she still rolled her eyes as she trudged into the bathroom. She decided to brush her teeth while she was there as well, giggling to herself at the thought of kissing Spencer with the taste of him still in her mouth.
When she stepped out, Spencer had changed the sheets and set a bottle of water on the nightstand, flashing a drowsy grin as she slipped into bed next to him and turned the lamp out. "What's all this about?" she teased, her smile breaking into a yawn.
"I'm taking care of you, just like I said I would."
It didn’t take long for exhaustion to settle in, both of them murmuring good nights between soft kisses. As they drifted off together, Y/N felt certain he would be taking care of her for the rest of his life—and she was just as sure that she would do the same for him.
Continued A/N's: Happy (late) start to December!! I really hope you guys enjoy this :') I plan on doing a little something (maybe, possibly ;) ) for Christmas, so stay tuned for updates on what that little something may be. Also, a loving reminder that my requests are open! :) <3 K
REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#she fell first he fell harder#spencer reid#spencer reid x bau!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut
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⋆. 𐙚 ˚ hand placement while making out . . . ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, suggestive, mentions of sex, hair pulling, marks and hickeys.
author note: hi!, this is my first time writing, english is not my first language so if any mistake please tell me. I accept requests!!
۶ৎ Mark - thighs ‹𝟹
Mark already likes your thighs, but when you're making out and you sit on his lap, he really loves it. The way you open your legs and have your thighs all for him? He goes crazy. He’s not much of a hips guy; instead, he keeps his hands firmly on your thighs—if you let him. Now imagine riding him… oh, he’s going to completely lose his mind.
۶ৎ Renjun - neck ‹𝟹
The way Renjun holds the back of your neck while he kisses you so deeply? Yeah, he’s insane for you and doesn’t even realize it. For him, your neck is like a masterpiece, his personal artwork. The number of marks and hickeys he can leave on you is uncountable. And later, he loves running his fingers over them and admiring his "work."
۶ৎ Jeno - back ‹𝟹
If you arch your back while he’s kissing you, Jeno will go feral. His pride will shoot through the roof seeing how much his girl is enjoying herself. He might not admit it, but he secretly loves it when you scratch his back while making out. You’re always worried about hurting him, but truth is—it drives him absolutely crazy.
۶ৎ Haechan - boobs ‹𝟹
Haechan? He doesn’t even try to hide it. His hands are always on your boobs, like they’re gloves made to keep his hands warm. Give him one kiss, and he’ll already have one hand on your chest. He loves how soft they are and how much his touch affects you. Honestly, it drives him wild.
۶ৎ Jaemin - hips ‹𝟹
For Jaemin, your hips don’t lie—and he loves it. Watching the way your hips move during a heated makeout session makes him obsessed. He loves placing his big hands on your hips, feeling your curves, and holding you close as you move. To him, it’s intoxicating.
۶ৎ Chenle - hair ‹𝟹
Chenle already loves playing with your hair, running his fingers through it, or gently scratching your scalp. But during a passionate makeout session? When he has his fingers tangled in your hair and accidentally pulls it, making you moan? He’ll lose all sense of control. Forget about his pride—he’s completely gone at that point.
۶ৎ Jisung - ass ‹𝟹
For Jisung, your ass is like the perfect stress ball—soft, addictive, and irresistible. Even while making out, he still asks for permission before touching it, and it’s because he respects you so much. But the moment you say yes? Imagine his hands all over you, squeezing and exploring. Yeah, he loves it—a lot.
strawberry silhouette by irene . . .
#nct x reader#jaemin smut#nct scenarios#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct#mark smut#jisung smut#haechan smut#renjun smut#jeno smut#chenle smut#nct dream smut#nct imagines#fanfic#nct smut#mark x reader#renjun x reader#jeno x reader#haechan x reader#jaemin x reader#chenle x reader#jisung x reader#jiji's mind#im scared this is my first time
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surprise encounter 🤍 sylus 秦
pairing: sylus x reader
summary: You’ve been playing love&deepspace ever since the game came out and it became your comfort place now. You like all of the boys, but you have the highest affinity with sylus, who had your heart in a grasp ever since the beginning. Who would’ve thought that he shares the sentiment? And after your monthly absence from the game, he decides to pay you a little visit and finally confess to all of it (and maybe kind of try to kidnap you in the process too oho).
tropes: fluff, angst to fluff, fluff to angst to fluff? fluff to angst to fluff to angst to fluff???? idk angst with happy ending!
word count: no idea, it goes on for days sorry. (7k!!)
warning!: i apologize for any mistakes, i am not a native speaker of english!! if you see any errors you can write me a dm and i will correct them for sure ♡ and i think it gets better later! i can’t write for shi, especially the beginnings, and the second part was fueled by my delulu so it is probably much more fun to read 🤍
⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙
You liked days like these: quiet days, lazy ones, when you didn’t have any errands to run, meetings to attend, or people to please. You could just stay inside for the whole day, reading your favorite books and playing cozy games, spending your time however you wanted. Today was Saturday and you didn’t have to go to work until Monday and you decided that you finally deserved to have some rest after the last couple of weeks of almost working yourself to the bone due to the amount of the assingments you had to complete at work. You often had to stay after hours or work from home to complete everything in time. Your work was not usually that challenging, but there were certain times of the year when everyone at your job had their hands full and when it happened, you were almost completely cut off not only from your social, but also personal life. However, you never complained, because you actually liked what you were doing, and even if the occasional hard times were inevitable, your work brought you so much fun and satisfaction.
And today was a good day! You finally finished everything you had to do, so you could go back to your favourite game. You didn’t have time to play recently due to the amount of work, up to the point that you didn’t even bother to check in to grab some stamina. Usually, love&deepspace was an important part of your day - you logged in there at least twice a day, completed every task thrown your way and had a blast doing so, but these couple of weeks were so hard for you that you almost forgot about it completely. But even if you were too busy, you thought about the boys from time to time, as well as about the events that you were probably missing out on. You really hoped that if some new events had taken place during that time, that they did not involve Sylus, because if you had missed them, you would be slightly devastated.
Sylus was your favorite. Ever since the beginning, there was something about him that caught your attention. You downloaded the game after his announcement and haven’t looked back since. You played with other boys as well, but your time with Sylus was always the most memorable. Not only was he extremely attractive in your eyes, as well as the eyes of other players around the world, but you also understood his character, adored his little jokes and mannerisms, and could safely say that he made your life a little more exciting. You knew that it probably sounded lame to someone who didn’t play such games, and you were aware that he wasn’t real, but you enjoyed yourself regardless. In your real life, you had some experience with men and were pretty popular among them; however, you never felt comfortable enough to form more serious romantic relationships.
Here, with Sylus, you didn’t have to worry about such things. You were aware that he was only a game character and maybe that was why you were so honest with him from the very beginning. You knew that he wouldn’t judge you, misstreat you or make you miserable - he was created in a way that was supposed to make your playthrough enjoyable so you didn’t have to worry about your responses in the messages for him or your real life reactions to everything he said or did. You could just be yourself. And you loved how freeing that felt.
That is why you felt so excited ever since you woke up. Because you knew that today you could finally go back to playing l&d, and you could meet up with your Sylus after so much time apart. You quickly did your chores, spent some time on self-care to slightly relieve the fatigue from the weeks before, you put on your favourite cozy outfit and finally clicked the ”enter game” button.
And there he was. Sylus was standing in the cafe, wearing his extremally attractive biker outfit and you caught yourself sighing dreamily at the sight of him. You missed him so bad, you missed the little memories you shared and the sound of his voice. You missed playing kitty cards with him, catching plushies together and even looking for that bastard Tobias again and again. You couldn’t help but smile brightly at him.
“Hi Sylus, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” You said cheerfully, feeling kind of dumb for it but you couldn’t help yourself. You often talked out loud to him during your playtime.
You watched him blink slowly once, then twice, and you started to think that there was something wrong with the server because his response should have already been uttered. But then the look on his face changed. At first, he appeared really shocked and relieved, but then a little frown appeared between his perfect little eyebrows.
“Where the hell have you been?” He responded quickly and it shocked you. You didn’t know that they could swear in the game, but after connecting some dots you figured that it had to be included in the special responses after the player was away for some time.
“At work mostly, been so busy lately but now I’m back and ready to defeat some Wanderers!!” You fist bumped the air above you, you couldn’t contain your excitement.
You also noticed that his expression stayed the same. He was silent, looking at you through your phone screen with bewilderment, and he looked almost hurt. In an attempt to provide some comfort to him, you swiped your finger gently through his hair and across his cheek. However, when you touched his cheek, he closed his eyes and nuzzled into your finger, which made you widen your eyes in surprise. Was that always a thing? Was he always so responsive to your touch? It had to be a new feature; you didn’t remember him being so lively.
“Next time you decide to leave me without a word, I think I’m going to take more drastic measures, sweetie” He said while opening his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice he did look different than usual. More… realistic? Even the way in which he moved his body looked so smooth.
“If not for Mephisto, I would have worried sick about your safety. You can't do this to me every time you have more work than usual; you have to visit me, even if it's just for a minute. I won't exaggerate when I say that I almost went insane after the first week of your cruel silence” And at that you were completely stunned. Should he talk this much? He never talked this much. And how could he know that you had more work than usual? Was that a lucky guess on the studio’s side?
“That’s so weird…” You whispered and touched his hand to trigger some kind of reaction that would appear more usual than what was happening right now.
“Is that your way of catching me of guard? If you wanted to hold my hand so badly kitten, then you would have visited me sooner. I will not let myself be distracted by your cute little behavior” He raised the hand you touched and crossed his arms at his chest, while continuing to frown. And you were still so, so confused.
“Promise me that you won’t leave me again, I know where to find you now.” You raised your eyebrows and bit your lip gently. You started to feel a little bit out of place, you knew that he was not real, but he sounded kind of scary. His voice was demanding, and the part about him finding you? You shivered involuntarily.
“What happened? Cat got your tongue, kitten? Or did you finally understood the selfishness of your actions?” Sylus continued and you opened your mouth in awe. “Promise. Me.” He said slowly, his gaze unnerving. Suddenly you heard a series of loud caws outside on your balcony. The sound made you jump in place, and you dropped your phone on your bed. Was that a freaking crow?? Outside your apartament???
You quickly picked up your phone and cursed softly. You were going insane. You got scared just because the game had an update you did not know about. You almost wanted to laugh at how stupid that was. Almost. Because Sylus walked up to the front of your phone screen and spoke to you again.
“Why are you hesitating? Are you really planning to leave me again?” You swore you never heard him so hurt.
“No!” You said before you could think.
“No?” He answered immediately, which scared the hell out of you. “I am not sure I believe you. And I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being away from you anymore.” He took two steps back and closed his eyes.
That was when the game crashed. Your phone appeared to be broked too, after the colourful lines appeared on the screen, flickered a couple of times and the whole screen turned black. You threw the device away from you and your heart started beating so fast you could hear the blood pulsing in your ears. You were so confused and genuinely scared. Was there an update that switched the genre of the game to horror? You were stunned.
And then you heard the knock.
You almost jumped out of your slippers. You brought your hand to your heart in order to calm yourself down and you started taking slow, deep breaths. It’s just a game. It’s just a game. Besides, how did Sylus, of all people, managed to scare you so badly? You adored that character, and you should know that he was prone not only to exaggeration, but also to intimidating behavior. That was literally one of his characteristics. So you forced yourself to calm down and opened the damn door, because it was probably either a mailman, or one of your friendly neighbors, and here you were making a scene like some kind of a delusional psychopath.
One. Two. Three.
You opened the door, and at first all you could see was a huge cloud of black mist. You closed your eyes in order to keep the mist from clouding your vision and then you felt wind pushing you gently further into your apartament. You heard the door close and the sound of the key turning in the lock. Everything happened so fast. And when you opened your eyes your knees almost buckled.
Sylus.
Sylus was all you could see. He was standing in front of you, in your own apartament, looking so out of place that you wanted to laugh. The first thing that you noticed about him was that he was huge, you couldn’t really see past him, and the more you looked at him, the more real he appeared to be. Soft-looking silver hair, rugged skin, that perfect nose and those piercing eyes. They looked into yours now, and at first they seemed to be searching for something, and after one quick second they visibly softened. You could also see how his handsome, oh so handsome mouth started to display his signature little smirk. And that was when you started to tremble.
“W-wha—” You tried to say something, anything but your mouth was not working. You have never been so confused and scared in your entire life. “Who—W-who are—” He was starting to close the distance between you and that is when the panic finally took over your body. You flinched and went to take a step back, but you slipped on your soft carpet.
Yet you didn’t fall. You felt the gentle caress of the mist that managed to caught you before you hit the ground, and it streightened your posture so that now you stood tall in front of the man.
“Careful kitten, I do not think that falling on four feet applies to you.” He spoke out loud for the first time and the voice was so familiar to you. It was the same, deep, husky timbre that you loved to hear, the same voice that made you squeal in happiness, that lulled you to sleep countless of times. You couldn’t believe it.
“Oh my god, am I dead?” He laughed softly at your reaction and looked at you through his lashes. “This can’t be happening.”
”Oh but it is. I knew that I would find my way to you, I just needed time.” He said and tried to close the distance between you, but you didn’t let him. Every step forward he took, you took one back. “It was so hard to find you. But after you disappeared without saying a word I think I got desperate.” Something flashed in his eyes. You recognized it as determination.
He stopped walking when he noticed that you were getting too close to the balcony. He straightened his posture, and you almost released a gasp. He was huge. And he was real. Alive and so, so real, that you had trouble breathing. You were so scared, but at the same time, so happy to see him, that your body didn’t know how it should react. You just looked at him, taking him in, trying to assess whether it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you, or if it wasn’t some random man breaking into your apartment and your brain had created a new, fantastic defense mechanism. But no, the longer you took him in, the more similarities you managed to notice: the scar in the corner of his eye, his unevenly clipped fingernails, strong but dry hands, olive skin, slim lips, long, slightly furrowed eyebrows. The not-so-hidden gentleness in his gaze as he was taking you in himself.
“It’s really you.” You managed to breathe out.
“You’re so beautiful.” He answered and his voice was slowly starting to make you feel these familiar butterflies. “So, so magnificent.” He continued. You felt your cheeks heat up and he seemed to drink that reaction in. “Will you talk to me more? You sound angelic. I did not think that you could sound even better than you did through the phone but I guess you will never fail to surprise me, sweetheart.” He did not move an inch. He just looked at you, and you still didn’t know how to react, but you were slowly coming to terms with the fact that it was not a weird dream. He was here and he didn’t appear to have bad intentions. At least you wanted to believe that.
“You’re still trembling. Are you really that scared of me?” He pressed his lips into a line.
“I’m sorry. I just… I’m just not sure what is happening. I had no idea you were… real.” He laughed softly at that.
“You wound me, kitten. Is that your way of unleashing your little claws?” He continued with a small smile on his lips and you couldn’t take it. He looked… stressed. And you thought that was new for him. You spend so many hours playing with him in l&d but you have never seen him so stressed.
Everything that came out of his mouth was slow and precise, not a word was spoken without a purpose. However you could see by his appearance that he was uncertain.
“Of course I’m real. And all the time we spent together is real too. Was it so wrong of me to expect that you would be at least a little bit happier to see me?” He was starting to look hurt. But not angry, not displeased. More concerned than anything, and that was when most of your worries started to disappear. He was your Sylus. He really was.
“I am happy to see you. I really am.” You said truthfully, the fear slowly dissolving. “What are you doing here? How did it happen?”
“When you left me, I was worried to death. I had to come see that you were alright for myself.” He said, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found a path between our worlds, and first I sent Mephisto after you. And that was how I knew you were fine, just busy.” He started explaining slowly and put two fingers at the bridge of his nose. This gesture was so familiar that you felt a slight pang in your chest. “Which l understand. But you stopped visiting completely and I panicked that I lost you. And that you lost your interest in me. And when you logged in today I guess I just lost control over myself.”
“I had to see you. I had to feel you. I needed to know that you will never leave me like that again. But how could I be so sure if you thought I was not real, sweetie?” His voice carried a hint of a ridicule. He smirked slowly and you allowed yourself to relax. You spend so much time with him on your phone, that you knew when he really needed reassurance. And it was the first time you saw him being so honest about his own feelings.
You decided to step closer to him and his eyes widened slightly. His body tightened because of the sudden change in proximity, and when you gently touched his hand bringing it to your mouth, he appeared to be rendered speechless.
“I would never leave you, Sy. At least not without saying goodbye first. You are my safe space, remember?” You said quietly and smiled at him brightly, reminding him of what you had written in your game bio. And then you brought his knuckles to your lips and placed a soft kiss upon them. His hands were much warmer than you expected them to be. They felt harsh, but gentle.
The next thing you heard was a soft grunt and you felt yourself being suddenly lifted in the air. You yelped and found yourself pressed against his big, solid chest. Sylus hugged your body to his by wrapping both of his arms around your torso, and when he realized that you weren’t comfortable, he put one hand under your thighs and brought your body to his by your waist. You let your arms wrap around his neck and squeezed, and he buried his head in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale your scent and his breath became rigged, as if he could not contain his excitement. You also became familiar with his scent. He smelled so manly and comforting, you could catch some notes of wood and leather, and something surprisingly sweet.
“You smell divine. You’re so soft, so warm.” He breathed against your neck and you felt goosebumps spreading throughout your whole body. You were so embarrassed, you felt like you needed to release some tension.
“I did not expect you to be so open with me. You’re usually the teasing type.” He chucked deeply and put his forehead against yours, while closing his eyes. Your cheeks burned. You couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream.
“There will be a time for teasing you, kitten.” He rubbed his forehead against yours slowly. “Right now let me enjoy you for a bit. I can’t believe I finally got to see you.” He squeezed you harder to him. You reciprocated the hug with all you had. You were actually kind of scared that your grip was too hard, but he seemed to bask in it. “Communicating through that small device was not nearly enough for me. I could always see you and I heard your little responses to everything I was saying. But it took me some time to figure out how to change some things up.” Your eyes went wide at the mention of your reactions, you knew that a lot of times there were beyond embarrassing, but you decided your blush to speak for itself. But what truly caught your attention was how he managed to appear in your home.
“Change things up?? You must have made such a mess, will it really be okay?” The concern in your voice made him look up and find your eyes with his. You were now looking at his beautiful red ones, so full of adoration and determination. You could see that the consequences of his actions did not matter to him at all.
“Sweetie, I would gladly burn the world down for you, even if it meant that I could see you just once.” You swallowed audibly and proceeded to shy away from his piercing gaze. You started to feel unworthy of such attention, you couldn’t quite grasp what exactly made him care about you to such extend. “Fortunately for everyone, the process did not involve starting an intergalactic war.” He smirked slowly, his eyes finding your lips and staying there for much longer than necessary. “Yet.”
You chuckled at that and proceeded to bury your fingers in his hair, stroking the strands with care. They were so soft to the touch, they reminded you of silk. He closed his eyes and let you touch him to your heart’s content. Your hand quickly found its way to his forehead, and then to his cheek, stroking the skin delicately. You couldn’t believe how someone so handsome could really exist.
“See something you like, kitten?” He said and nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss right there. ”You will have all the time in the world to touch me when we arrive in the N109 Zone.” He seemed so peaceful, so content with himself, but the mention of the N109 Zone stopped you in your tracks. You tensed visibly and he opened his eyes, noticing the change in your posture.
“The N109 Zone?” You asked puzzled. “Are you taking me away for a weekend?” You took your hand from his face and he used his Evol to bring it back to his cheek. The mist around your fingers felt weird, but not unpleasant.
“For a weekend? No, no.” He locked his eyes with yours, his head slowly closing the distance between you. He licked his lips and looked at your mouth once again. “I am taking you away forever.” And before his lips managed to touch yours, you flinched. Your hands quickly pushed him away and the panic returned to your features.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I meant what I said. Pack your bags if you believe there is something that I cannot provide for you quickly enough, and we will be off shortly.” He said matter of factly, kind of annoyed by the distance you decided to put between you. “Luke and Kieran have already prepared a room for you, although I think that you will have more than enough space for your belongings in mine.” His eyes brightened with excitement that you unfortunately could not share. Instead, you lightly pushed his torso, making him lower you to the ground grudgingly. His brows were once again furrowed.
“I can’t go with you Sylus. At least, not for forever”
“You can. We can stay together for the rest of our lives and no one would have any objections. I took care of everything.” He reached to grab your forearm and stroked it softly with his thumb. He was so sure of everything he was saying that you could feel how much he let himself get lost in his fantasy. It did make you feel wanted, loved even. But no matter how happy you were that he was real, and apparently shared your feelings, you couldn’t agree to his plan.
“No, Sylus. I need to stay here, I have built my whole life in this place.” You could feel how much your words shocked him. He was looking at you so puzzled as if he didn’t think that you declining his offer was even an option. “I can’t leave everything that I managed to achieve, I really am content with my life, despite how complicated it can be.” You said truthfully. A part of you wanted to go with him, to feel safe and cherished for, for the rest of your life but you knew that was not realistic. You wanted to achieve more, you wanted to have your own life and your own space. You needed to be independent, to feel that you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself and your own needs.
“I do not understand. Don’t you want to be with me?” It pained you how quickly he jumped to that conclusion. And you hated the look on his face - it made you feel like you were betraying him.
”I do want to! Oh my god— I really, really do want to Sylus. I don’t think that I can live without spending time with you anymore.” You smiled at him, and took hold of his huge, rugged hand. “But I can’t live with you in the N109 Zone. I can’t leave my whole life behind.” And the fact that he wanted to make you do that somewhat scared you. Made you feel distressed.
“I see.” He sounded deep in thought. Then, he broke the eye contact for a second, looked at his hand in your hold and before you could even react, he grabbed your body gently with his Evol and picked you up. Your whole body was above ground and although you felt secured, you looked at him with surprise.
“What are you doing?” You wanted to get free from the hold of the mist, but it was impossible with how tight it was. “Sylus, you have to let me go.” You tried not to panic, you knew that you weren’t in danger. But he looked relentless, unforgiving as if his mind was already set in stone.
“No. I can’t. Not now when I finally got to have you.” He looked up at you, with his eyebrows still furrowed, and you could hear a hint of a growl in his voice. “If you do not wish to go with me, I guess I would have to take you by force.”
It was then that you felt a sense of panic. You knew him, and you knew that if he wants something, he always gets it. It just did not cross your mind that he would ever go against your own wishes.
“No. No, no, no, Sylus, please calm down.” He narrowed his eyes and stood motionless before you, his face devoid of almost any emotion. Almost, if not for the desperation shining through his watchful eyes. “You cannot take me away. At least not for now. But I will do anything you ask me to! You can also stay here for some time, and visit me whenever you want to, I swear, I would be so happy to have you.” You just needed him to listen. You knew that you could change his mind, he always listened to what you had to say, he just needed a little bit of persuasion. Maybe he didn’t even think about alternative options?
“And I would make you happy in the N109 Zone with me.” You laughed with disbelief. He was completely missing your point. You decided to once again yank your hands from the grasp of his mist, and then hissed with pain when it did not loosen up its hold. “Your struggle is futile, please stop, I do not wish for you to get hurt.” He was annoyed with you and your disobedience. He did not think that you would have any objections, he started loosing his cool.
“You would never let me get hurt.” You answered, wanting to assure yourself of it as well. You didn’t like how commanding he sounded.
“Yes.” There was no doubt in his voice. “Yes, you know I would stop at nothing to protect you.” His gaze never wavered from yours. He truly thought that what he was doing was for the best. And you just had to let him know how wrong his approach was.
“Yes! Yes I do know that! Because I know you, Sy.” You started to sound as if you were pleading. Deep down it scared you, send uncomfortable shivers down your spine. “I know you, and I know that you also know me.”
He placed his hand on his heart.
“And I adore every single piece of information. And I still wish to know you much, much better.” You tensed when you noticed that his right eye was starting to glow. You did not know if that was intentional, or just a trick of the light.
“Then you MUST know how much this life means to me. How much I like my stupid job, and how much I love the people that are here for me. My friends, my family.” You noticed that your reasoning started to get to him when he clenched his fists and avoided your eyes for a second. “And you have to know how much it would hurt me if you were to take me away from them.” He appeared taken aback. It seemed that his longing for you clouded his judgement, and now he started to notice the faults in his plan.
“But I cannot stand to be apart from you anymore, sweetie.” In normal circumstances that would be so touching to you. But nothing about this situation was normal, and you guessed you just had to show him how normal looked like.
“You won’t be. You can visit me anytime you want. Stay for how long you want.” You wanted that too. So bad.
“But that is not ENOUGH.” It was the first time you heard his raised voice and you started to tremble. His outburst must’ve thrown him off guard too, because he wavered and the grip he had on you loosed. You acted instinctively. You freed yourself from the mist and started to run towards your door. And although he was stunned by your reaction, he quickly teleported so that you ran straight into his chest. His hands grabbed yours in order to protect you from falling due to the impact.
He gently caressed your now slightly red forehead and sighed loudly. You could hear that he was hurt. You cried out from frustration.
“If you really thought that you could run away from me then you must be a total fool.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and lifted your chin up with his finger. “Usually I like playing cat and mouse with you, but I do not like the fact that you appear genuinely scared of me right now.” He hugged your waist and brought you closer to him, lowering his head at the same time. “And that you tried to run away from me when I only want to offer you my protection.”
“It doesn’t sound like protection, it sounds like imprisonment.” You used strong words, but you sounded so small. You did not know what to do with him, you were so scared. ”I’m just scared. I tried to run away because you scared me, Sylus.” You sounded desperate for him to understand you. To look past his own clouded vision.
“You do not have to fear me. I just want what is best for you. For us.” His grip on your waist tightened, and he also proceeded to grab your wrist.
“No. You only want what is best for you. You are not listening to me. I do care about you Sylus, but I cannot leave this place.” You tried to stand your ground but you two never argued before. It was an unfamiliar ground to you, especially when it was the first time that you had a conversation in person. Everything felt more intense and dangerous when you remembered the extreme measures he was always willing to take to achieve his goals.
“You can. And I will make you leave.” He almost growled and a cloud of black and red mist surrounded both of you, and that was enough to bring tears into your eyes.
”Sylus, no, please, I don’t want to. Please, just listen to me, please.” And it was at that moment he started to came into his senses. Your quiet voice and your eyes full of tears made his breathing stop. It was the first time he was seeing you react like this. He hated how broken you sounded. How small. “I’m so scared, Sy, please stop scaring me.” Your voice sounded choked and you could feel that the tears started streaming down your face. Every single one physically hurt him. It was your first meeting and he already made you so miserable. He wanted to scream. “Please.” You tried once again and it shocked you that it finally worked on him.
He tensed and released you from his grip. The mist also dissipated as he took a step back from you. You could hear him breathing deeply.
“I cannot do this." He sounded panicked. “I did not want to scare you, and I cannot listen to your little broken pleas. They break my heart.” He hidden his face in his hands and curled in himself. He felt as if someone pierced his heart with a knife and twisted it. He could not bring himself to look at your beautiful heartbroken face again. “They really do. Please, just stop crying. You won.”
You sniffed softly and touched your wet cheeks. You tried to calm yourself down, he finally listened to you.
“It does not feel so good this time for some reason.” You answered, referring to your Kitty Card battles. You wanted to relieve the tension somehow. You knew that he didn’t want to hurt you, you understand that he lives in a different reality where danger awaits everywhere. You could understand why he wanted to have you beside him at all times. But it scared you how insistent he was, how brutal and final. “Do you really understand why I got so scared?”
He nodded helplessly. “I won’t steal you away. Not when I know how much you despise the idea of spending the rest of your time with me.” You noticed how hard he was pressing his hands to his face and you grabbed them in your own. He let you uncover his eyes and you saw how much it hurt him to let you go.
“Oh, Sy.” You whispered and hugged his hands to your chest. “You know that’s not the reason.”
“Stop calling me that. It drives me crazy.” He breathed and met your eyes. “You drive me crazy. What am I going to do with you? How can I make sure you are safe now?” You took his hands and made him follow you into your bedroom. You sat on your bed and urged him to do the same. This way you could finally talk with him more comfortably.
“Sylus, we have to talk about it.” You squeezed his hands and he looked at yours and took notice of how much smaller they were in comparison to his. So fragile, so breakable. He couldn’t stand it. His whole body longed to protect you. “I do not despise the idea of spending my time with you. I just can’t randomly leave everything I know and love. And this world is different from the one you know, we have our dangers but no one wants my head.” You explained to him slowly. “There are no Wanderers. No protocores.” He looked conflicted.
“I already know that sweetheart. I do. But when you disappeared for such a long time I couldn’t help but think that something bad happened to you” he gritted through his teeth. “I nearly lost my mind looking for you everywhere. It was terrifying, that thought in my mind and the idea that I would never have another chance to speak with you. To see you.” He touched your forearms and brought you a little closer to him. “And when Mephisto found you safe and sound I thought that I never want to feel that fear, that helplessness again. And the only way to do that is to keep you beside me at all times. To guard you with my own body and soul.” He took your hand and rested it on his chest. You could feel the fast and steady rhythm of his heart. You could feel his desperation, his complete devotion. And it almost made you tear up.
“I-I’m so sorry that I made you worry this much.” He studied your face with intention and you shake your head. “But I didn’t even know that you were real. I really thought it was just a game that made me feel less alone and now…” You swallowed audibly. “Now I know that everything I built with you during our time together was very much real and I’m still having trouble to wrap my head around it to be honest.” You smiled at him softly and he nodded with understanding.
“And then you came in and wanted to kidnap me to a world much more dangerous than mine where I do not have my close ones and—“
“I did NOT mean for that to be a kidnapping I though that you shared my sentiment, and also wanted to spend some time—“
“SOME time?? Sylus you wanted me to switch literal worlds and live with you in your freaking villa in the middle of nowhere—”
”I live in an apartment that has a fantastic location, mind you, and you would feel so comfortable in—“
”Apartament??? You cannot possibly be a freaking leader of Onychinus and live in an apartment complex, are you being serious with me right now??”
“Have you ever heard of a saying that the darkest place is under the candlestick, kitten? Besides there is no one in the whole N109 Zone that would pose an actual threat to me—” He cut off when he met your eyes full of laughter, and then he heard that beautiful sound. You burst into giggles right in front of him and you touched him by the bicep and brought his forehead to yours. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, understanding the absurdity of the situation. Feeling your forehead against his, hearing your adorable chuckles and inhaling your sweet scent made him feel so at peace that he closed his eyes to embrace the moment completely. He couldn’t believe that he almost ruined your relationship by being so selfish.
“I missed this. This back and forth with you” You said and he chucked deeply. “I really am happy to see you, Sy. And I swear that we will be able to talk and spent time with each other more often now. And actually see each other in person.” He nuzzled into your face more and you caught his smirk by the corner of your eye. “We can stay in touch at all times, so that you won’t have to worry about my safety so much.”
“So bossy, kitten.” He answered, but the small smile did not leave his face. He couldn’t make it go away even if he tried. “Forgive me for scaring you earlier. I was not thinking straight. I was just so elated to finally have you in my arms that I let my selfishness get the best of me, and for that I’m sorry. I did not want to ruin our first meeting, sweetie.” You hugged him by bringing your arms around his chest and he closed his eyes drinking in the proximity. You were too small, too adorable, too attractive for him to take it. Too honest. Too lovable. Made just for him to adore. To protect.
“You did not ruin anything.” You said into his shirt, hugging him tighter. “I understand you, Sylus. And I like you a little selfish if it means that’s what brought you to me” He smiled into your hair and reluctantly let go of your fragile frame. He touched your chin and delicately lifted your face up to face him. His eyes were once again drinking you in, committing every single one of your features to his memory. He sighed contentedly.
“Selfishness was not the reason of my visit.” You could see how his eyes softened and you felt your chest squeeze. You brushed his cheek, loving the way how he seemed to relish in your touch. His eyes wandered to your lips: pink, plump and so inviting. “Adoration was. The complete love and devotion that I have felt for you for quite some time now.” You gasped quietly and opened your lips slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Sy—”
“And I guess a little emotional push was what made me finally find my way to you, my beloved.” He half-whispered, leaned in, and pressed his lips to yours, locking you in a sweet, passionate kiss that went on and on, seeming to deepen with every minute you spent in his embrace.
⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙
#love and deepspace sylus#lnds sylus#sylus qin#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus fluff#sylus angst#l&ds sylus#sylus x you#sylus smut#lads sylus#sylus meeting#sylus real meeting#i was going insane#i think i like my men touch-starved#and desperate#and a liiiitle bit emotionally unstable tbh#pls don’t judge#im definitely not a writer#im just a girl with her silly little sylus obsession#eng is not my first language#and thank god for that#i think i have two brains now#and they both think about sylus in an unhealthy amount#welp#love & deepspace#love&deepspace#love&deepspace sylus#sylus x y/n
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I just watched The First Omen at the cinema and you may go ahead and cuff me for blasphemy, but…
Devil x Reader
You have been chosen by the Cult as the one to carry their ungodly plan after many failed attempts. This time it was a success, yet not for the reasons they might expect. The Devil has his eyes on you.
Content: female reader, mentions of pregnancy, religious themes, blasphemy, violence, horror, a non-consent scene!, based on The First Omen (2024); image from the promotional poster
Why you, of all people? You're not particularly devoted to religion, nor do you stand out in terms of virtuousness. Or lack of, for that matter. Alas, their reasons remain unknown.
What's certain is that you woke up one day and found yourself strapped to a foreign bed, staring into a ceiling you didn't recognize. You weren't alone. Around your helpless form stood men and women, dressed in black and wearing a solemn smile. Your forehead received a gentle, encouraging stroke from the hand of the priest. The scent of chrism invaded your nostrils.
You begged them to release you. The older man spoke softly in your ear. "You are serving a greater purpose. It is all in the name of God." God? Purpose? You rolled your eyes back and gazed upon the large painting hanging behind you. Virgin Mary and her blissful smile and stretched out hands felt like a mockery.
The holy image vanished as a black cloth was nonchalantly draped over your face. You felt the rope tighten around your neck and begun gasping for the scarce air barely making it through the thick canvas. A crescendo of muffled chants, and the room went abruptly quiet. Had everyone left?
Then you heard it. That profane growl, causing the entirety of your body to shiver in repugnance and terror. You trashed, and pulled, and screamed, to no avail. A clawed hand rested on your bare stomach, then a second one traced the rest of your body. You laid limp, vision blurred as the room swayed in tandem with the sacrilegious act.
You'd been defiled by a Beast. The next time you opened your eyes, you were back in your bed. Your hopes of it being a mere nightmare were shattered the moment you lifted your gown and noticed the deep scratches, the monstrous prints left on your skin, and the hollow sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your body had been tampered with, and something was growing out of your misfortune. A vile blight, throbbing with life within the comfort of your flesh.
You spent the months haunted by voices and visions. The grotesque, horned Creature would frequently reappear in your mind, exhausting all other thoughts. Such a heavy, imposing presence. It wouldn't let you forget, not even for a second: you belonged to Him, and He would soon return to retrieve you. The mother of His child, the object of His adoration. Was such a thing even conceivable?
You prayed to be left alone, yet the Cult naturally longed for its promised gift, bound to come back eventually. And so, once more, you were facing the people who caused your despair. "We've come for the child", the priest explained, glancing at your obvious, bulging belly. The clawed hand framing it was still a fresh wound that never healed, almost as an ominous warning: this body was owned by a jealous God.
Your trembling hands revealed a pocketknife. This time, you were prepared. The group took a moment to observe your daring gesture, then proceeded to approach you with calculated steps, with newfound resolve. Would you be able to keep them away? Their intentions were clear: you were in possession of the Antichrist, and they needed to secure this immense power.
The ground shook, and everyone froze. You glanced at the altar painting, the same one that witnessed your corruption. Virgin Mary remained with an unfaltering smile. From behind the ornate frame, large, horrid hands creeped out. A travesty of everything Holy. The priest gasped and quickly threw his hands in prayer. This was not part of the plan. This was not meant to happen.
"Pater noster, qui es in caelis-" he began, but his voice was cut short. His face turned pale, and he clutched his chest with a terrible grimace. The nun next to him let out a scream before she was pushed away by an invisible force. Her body hit the wall with a loud, wet sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing. You stared at the massacre unfolding before you, devoid of any fear. Somehow, in the depths of your soul, you knew you'd be safe.
An enormous shadow emerged from behind the painting, twisting, bending, stalking towards you. Your nose scrunched at the stench of blood. You were the last one standing among corpses. To your surprise, you exhaled deeply, shoulders drooping in comfort. A silent voice murmured in your ear, telling you not to fear. That Father was finally home for you.
Foolish, ridiculous humans. He'd been willing to entertain their petty plans of grandeur, until he met you: your tender, frail body, your innocent soul. How exalting it was to have his way with you. You were meant to be the one. To carry His offspring into the damned world. But not for some trifling reason of a Cult desperate to crawl their way back into control. Their greatest mistake - which led to their demise - was to assume the Devil himself can be controlled, ordered around. He has allowed you the greatest honor of joining him, out of your free will, to sow the seeds of chaos as his beloved mortal.
Thus, he couldn't have possibly allowed anyone to interfere. What you saw that day, in that old, musty underground cavern, was an omen: a bloodbath awaits the one who dares to approach his human.
You look up into the demonic orbs: trenches of madness, obsession, vulgarity, burning holes into you, slurping your very existence with hunger and lust. You are his.
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