#hint: it's maroon

[cinnabeat]

rememebred everyones kh3 outfits and now im annoyed again

[jamminvroomvroom]

🎀 anon

congrats on 5k

hey bb ! i’ve been brainrotting on insatiable lando and his gf for weeks now omg

for a cute lil fic i was thinking of reader being max f’s sister and lando and her being secretly together. they’re all on vacation together and lando and reader are super insanely insatiable and the story on how they act on vacay 😈😈

anywhere she wants.

ln x fem fewtrell!reader

in which no one approves of your relationship, so lando shows them just how good he is to you…

oh my sweet 🎀 anon, i’m sorry this took so long! slowly getting back into the groove of writing, starting with this little piece! i went a bit off script but the vibes are hopefully similar to the request! huge thanks to angel bby @fairene for helping me out!enjoy! lemme know what you think!! big hugs and lots of love 💖

songs to set the mood: my love mine all mine by mitski, i know places by taylor swift, she will be loved by maroon 5, summertime sadness by lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, fluff, angst, a bit of exhibitionism kinda, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v, established relationship, max being a dick, angry/feral!lando, girlboss!reader, hints of ownership kink? for like. a second, lando being wise (not canon lmao), swearing

4.2k words

fairy lights drench the pool with light, a glow dancing over the still surface in ripples. you smile, hum with content as the warm evening air washes over your skin, leaning over the balcony to take in the sight of where you’ll be staying.

footsteps sound from behind you, the master bedroom, and you quickly feel two warm arms wrap around your waist, tan and thick. you lean into his touch, chest warming from the kisses peppered over your jugular.

“you like it?” lando breathes, nosing over your earlobe.

“it’s beautiful.” you whisper, turning your head to nuzzle against him. he seizes the opportunity to seal his lips over yours, kissing you soft and deep. you spin in his arms, clutching at his shirt to hold him close, the kiss intensifying, changing pace. just as he licks into your mouth, a sigh, so loud that it breaks the sound barrier, tears you both apart.

“so is that all you two do now, suck each others faces?” max rolls his eyes, his disapproval of your relationship one of the worlds worst kept secrets.

“yes, max. that’s all we do.” you mock, biting back at your older brother.

because of course you’re dating your brothers best friend. of course you are. life is funny like that.

lando stays silent, but you feel his hand on your waist tightening. max swallows hard.

“we ordered pizza, if you guys wanna come down.” max bulldozes through the awkwardness, offering an olive branch, and leaves.

“he is such a knob.” you mutter, shaking your head. lando strokes tentatively over your cheek, soothing you.

“he’s your big brother, baby. he’ll get over this.” lando coos reassuringly, and you choose the easy path of believing him.

you and max occupy opposite ends of the excessively large dining table when you join the rest of your friends.

the tension has been palpable between you and max since he caught you sneaking out of lando’s london flat one morning, the reason for your visit quite clear. you’d stood with your ear to the door when he’d stormed past you and entered the apartment, making you more than aware that your presence was unwanted when he quickly slammed the door behind him.

you’d endured the one-sided screaming match that followed, the accusations that lando must be playing with your feelings, that it would never work out, that it wasn’t fair at how exposed you’d be to the cruelty of his fan base, that he couldn’t believe how low lando would stoop to date his little fucking sister.

you wanted to understand, and really, you tried!but max hadn’t made it easy, constantly pushing your buttons and making needless digs at the both of you. lando convinced you that this holiday during the summer break would be healing; max would get to see how much lando cared for you, and everyone got much needed time to relax. so, with your friend group in tow, the three of you jetted off to the tiny spanish island.

surely, everything would be fine.

-

everything was not, in fact, fine.

you can smell it in the air, the tension building thick and heavy. everyone thought they were slick, waiting for lando to leave so they could corner you, and corner you, they did.

lando had kissed you sweetly by the sliding doors to the garden, popping his airpods in and shouting a quick: going on a run! to the rest of your holiday party. you’d sauntered carelessly to a lounger, bikini clad, sprawling out across the chair to tan and watch the who can do the best canon ball into the pool competition that has become a long running championship. but you can feel stares, feel the walls closing in, and you push your sunglasses up to rest over your hairline.

max and pietra are locked in on you, as are the rest of your friends.

“what?” you feel hot, embarrassed all of the sudden for no reason at all.

“so, it’s going well, then… with lando?” one of your girlfriends starts, but it sounds extra high pitched, awkward. your stomach sinks as you realise the pathetically choreographed dance about to take place.

“for fuck sake.” you mutter.

“she’s just asking!” max shoots back, as if he’s offended, as if you can’t see right through him.

“it’s going great.” you state, blunt as ever whenever your relationship is questioned.

“we just wanna make sure that this is right for you.” pietra says sympathetically, her eyes soft. you’ve known her long enough to know that even though her dickhead boyfriend is being callous, she genuinely cares.

“lando is right for me, you are all so full of shit! i don’t get what it is that you’re seeing.” you try and keep your voice level, even as your blood pressure begins to rise menacingly.

“it’s not so much what we see between you, it’s more about what he was like before.” tom jumps in.

ah, yes. the infamous hoe phase.

“because no one here ever fucked around.” you glare pointedly at your brother. he lowers his gaze.

“are we sure this isn’t just a… a fling?” pietra tries again, staying soft. her words still sting.

“yeah, i know him better than you do, and i-“ max’s voice cuts you like a thousand shards of glass and you body ignites with rage.

he knows him better? what does he know?

does he know that lando can’t sleep without telling you that he loves you? does he know that lando cried into you arms after his miami win? does he know that lando feels itchy if he doesn’t tell you that you’re beautiful at least eleven times an hour? does he know that you’re so crazy about his gorgeous, loving, infuriating best friend that you’re prepared to tell your brother where to go and to never come back?

“shut the fuck up, max. you know nothing! nothing about our relationship because you never gave us a chance. you don’t see how much i love him because every time you see us together, you’re hellbent on destroying our happiness.” you point angrily, standing from your chair. before you turn to the house, you leave them all with a parting message.

“and all of you will do very well to remember who paid to bring your bitter arses here. remember whose fucking house you’re in.” you lecture, watching as they all turn sheepish as they realise how ungrateful they sound.

“i don’t think i have anything to add.” you hear from behind you.

you jump, turning to see lando leaning against the door.

“shit, baby.” you breathe, rushing towards him, your skin crawling as you wonder how much he’s heard.

“forgot my phone.” he shrugs, smiling warmly at you. only at you. “now unless anyone has anything to add, i’m gonna take my very, very serious girlfriend upstairs.” he grins smugly.

the silence is so deafening that you couldn’t of even heard a pin drop if you’d tried.

you hold up your middle finger as he leads you away.

your bedroom door slams so hard that they must hear it outside. he’s tense, enraged at the disrespect that you’d endured, but he’s soft with you, pulling you into his rigid body. he relaxes into you, walking you further into the room.

“how much did you hear?” you whisper, clinging to him.

“oh, you know, just all of it.” he laughs bitterly, fingers sinking into your hips.

“they’re assholes.” you growl, threading your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes it.

“there is one good thing about it though.” lando hums, still guiding you deeper into the room. your back thuds softly against the sliding glass door, the one that leads to your balcony.

“what?” you breathe, suddenly extremely aware of his lower body.

“you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad.” he smirks.

turns out, he didn’t steal you away to mope.

his lips crash against yours fiercely, teeth and tongue getting in on the action as he moves his mouth feverishly against your own. your neck tilts back, allowing him to swallow you whole, like his life depends on the feeling of you pressed against him. he trails kisses over your cheek, across your jaw, down your neck, two fingers grazing your ribcage. he snaps the tie of your bikini against your skin, stone cold aware of the lack of clothing adorning your body and he hums low from the back of his throat.

“they need to learn that you’re mine, that you’re always gonna be mine.” lando grunts, pulling away to slide the door open. he pushes you out onto the balcony, the one that overlooks the very pool that your friends and your brother are licking their wounds around.

“lando…” you gasp, weary of his overly adventurous attitude.

“maybe this will make them realise just how crazy you make me.” lando looks possessed, moving towards you like a wild animal engulfing its prey.

he cages you in against the wall, pulling one leg over his hip to spread you open, his fingers travelling to the flimsy tie of your bikini bottoms. you’re already soaked, embarrassingly so, really, but there’s just something about those gorgeous, haunted eyes. lando let’s the bottoms fall to the floor, kicking them away impatiently as he quickly finds home between your legs.

“think anyone else can get you this wet?” lando asks, eyes rolling back as he finds your slick folds. your jaw drops, already boneless at the feel of him. “answer me, baby. nice ‘n loud for me.” he demands.

“no, lan.” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. he’s teasing, stroking lightly over your folds and your sensitive bud.

“and can anyone else make you feel this good? i mean, baby, i’ve barely touched you and you’re shaking.” lando’s teeth catch his bottom lip, his eyes glazing over as he watches you.

“lando, please.” you mutter, grinding down on his hand. you need more of him. he grins, flashing his teeth with pride as he renders you desperate.

“my pretty girl fucking my hand, god, you’re so perfect.” lando praises, earning a moan from your kiss-swollen lips. “bet they can hear how soaked you are, baby.”

you flush red, shame and embarrassment blurring the pleasure and you press a tense hand to your mouth, trying to silence the waterfall of whines.

“don’t you fucking dare.” he warns, sliding his fingers deep into your pussy. he gives you no time to adjust, curling them upwards and rocking his whole hand against you. his palm bumps against your clit and you writhe against the wall.

there’s no point covering your mouth, there is no hiding what’s happening. you let him have you how he wants you, a consolation for him having to hear his friends badmouth him, and he takes every liberty, mouthing at your covered tits, lapping over your peaked nipples. you cry out, weak as he manipulates your body closer to an orgasm, your wetness trickling down his wrist.

“so good to me, baby, only you, lando.” you choke, your voice echoing between the stone walls.

“that’s it, honey, make a mess for me. let ‘em hear you pretty girl.” he encourages, talking you straight into your first orgasm.

you tremble, gushing all over his hand as you cum, droplets splattering all over the paved floor. lando’s eyes turn black, mouth hanging open as he watches you fall apart, riding you through it.

lando let’s you cool down, propping you carefully against the wall, and leaning over the balcony. funnily enough, max is long gone, but the rest of them sit in stunned silence. he can’t help himself, driven mad by your quivering body and their cruel jabs, choosing whatever the opposite of the high road is. he reaches into his pocket, finding his credit card.

“get out of the villa that i paid for so i can fuck my girlfriend anywhere she wants.” he shouts, watching the way their necks snap up to look at him, revelling in their reddened faces that are not just flushed from the sun. “take this. have dinner. just fuck off.” he frisbees his card at tom, - rather carelessly really, considering just how much there was to lose on that little black square - and he revels in the way it lands square against his forehead.

they all stand up and scurry away, as few faint sorry’s! carrying through the air towards the couple on the balcony, but lando has more important business to attend to.

he scoops you up into his arms, grinning at your coy smile and your drooping eyes. he carries you to bed, planting you in the middle of the mattress.

“not done with you yet, baby, open those eyes for me.” lando coos, crawling over you, his shirt and workout shorts flung to the other side of the room. he feels delicious against you, caging you in beneath him.

“want you, lan.” you plead, a desperate smile on your face as you keen, stretching against the mattress like a cat.

“you’ll have me, baby. always gonna have me.” he smiles, eyes finding yours. “i love you.”

“love you so much.” you whisper, pulling him flush against you. “no matter what.” you affirm. he needed to hear that, it seems, his eyes sparkling with something else, other than the sheen of lust.

he kisses you, firm and wanting, his fingertips sliding up over your arms, leaving prickles of lightning and goosebumps in their wake. one of his hands interlocks with yours, twining together above your head, his body stretching languidly over yours. you can feel him, hard and throbbing between your legs, teetering on the knife edge of self control.

“take me, lando. have me how you want me. ‘m yours.” you croon, disguising a helpless whine as you arch your body into his. you’re squirming for it, to feel him sink deep and claim you his.

that seems to usher him along, and he drags his cock through your folds with a slow roll of his hips, the head catching your sodden entrance. you hiss, the intrusion not even nearly enough, but the sensation overwhelming you nonetheless. he slides into you carefully, stilling when his hips hit flush against yours. you do not want careful.

“fuck me.” you groan wetly, hot breath fanning his face as your mouth instinctively fills with saliva. you’re close to drooling for him.

“beg.” he snaps, jaw tight as he battles his natural instinct to utterly ravage you. “beg me to show you that i own you.”

your legs quiver, pussy clenching around him and he cannot help but buck his hips and suppress a whine. he styles it out, tantalisingly slow as he rolls his hips, grinding against your pleasure point, your slick walls. blood rushes in your ears, your body feral with need. you can’t even tease, disobey him for the fun of it, not when he’s wound you up so delectably. your body keens for him, hums with the sparks, a live wire.

“don’t wanna be able to walk when you’re done,” you slur, beginning to ramble. “want to feel you so deep that i’m ruined. ‘m yours, lando. have me.” you plead.

pleasure shoots through him, then, rapid and unwavering. he’s unforgiving as he rails into you, immediately stoking the fire in your belly. all of his body weight is on you, sweaty skin sticking and slapping as his hipbones bruise into yours.

“is that how you want it, huh, baby?” he manages to growl, scooping up your wrists in one big paw, his other hand working down the planes and curves of your body. he finds the triangles of your bikini top, hastily tearing them down just enough so that your tits spill out. all for him. all his. “look at this perfect fucking body,” his breathe hitches, awestruck. “is it all mine?”

you cry out, nodding shamelessly as he ghosts his fingers around the swell of your nipple, switching to the other when he’s satisfied with the peak. he alternates between them, twisting and tugging, barely there and all too hard. you can only plead his name and tighten around his cock.

once he’s overstimulated your chest, he works his fingers further down your body, stopping now and then to dig into your flesh, appreciating the soft feeling of your skin under his calloused hands.

“and this hot, little cunt… is this mine, too?” lando breathes, right against the shell of your ear. his thumb presses hard against your thrumming clit, smearing your slick over the bud. “to play with? is it baby?”

“god, yes.” you manage to bellow, the strained words tearing over your vocal chords.

“yes, what?” lando snaps, slapping lightly over the bundle of nerves.

“it’s yours!” you sob, choking on your own voice.

“to…?” lando coaxes, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips as he looks at you expectantly.

“to play with.” you stutter, cheeks tinged hot with embarrassment that seeps down your neck and between your sweat-dampened bodies.

“that’s my good girl. my pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“‘m so close.” you breathe, writhing up the mattress, his body atop your inescapable. he toys with your clit, pinching the electrified nerves, watching how you buck your hips and leak onto the mattress. he’s covered in you, his belly glistening in the sunlight that washes over you, sealing you forever in this golden, sparkling moment.

“want me to cum all over your tummy, baby? mark you mine?” lando gasps, driving into you with one goal in mind. he has to get you there, wants to be painted in the remnants of your pleasure and hung up in every art museum in the world. if only he wasn’t so selfish, yearning to keep this stunning sight to himself for the rest of his life.

“n-no,” you pause, your jaw going slack for a moment as he circles your clit just right, grinds his hips so deep. “inside me.” you beg.

“fill me up.”

his vision blurs.

lando just about folds you in half, carnal desire surging through his veins. the hand keeping yours suspended over your head falls away, finding your navel where he applied a brutal, sweet pressure that leaves you blind and wailing. his other fingers busy themselves sinking into the meat of your thigh, dragging you backwards and forwards on his throbbing length.

your body goes limp, tears of pleasure trailing wetly down your face as your orgasm hits you, and lando can’t help but bury himself as deep as he can go. the rutting of his hips and the messy rub of his whole hand against your clit leaves you awestruck, sobbing into the air of the room. you’re covering him in waves, shivering as you grow overstimulated but you can’t help but chase the high. your violent quivers and dripping cunt make him whine, high pitched and divine, and he drops onto you, filling you up. he can’t seem to stop, painting you white from the inside out, watching the way it drips out of you, coating the base of his cock.

this can’t be over yet, he decides. he needs to hear you scream.

“lemme help you with that.” he mumbles, slinking down your body, eyes fixed solely on where you were joined together.

you don’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of him buried inside of you, no. you’re too busy pushing at his curls, pleading that he lets up, but he can’t. it’s not that he won’t, it’s that he quite simply can’t.

his tongue runs up the seam of your pussy, lapping over the mixture you’ve made and you can’t do anything but cry and thrash, white hot with pleasure and pain. its so good that it hurts, and you give in, knowing that he isn’t going to stop unless you say the magic words. lord knows, you won’t. lando knows you won’t.

it’s torturous, really, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, drags his tongue over his mess and slips it right into your entrance. he swirls and sucks and nips and tugs. it’s like he’s turned a faucet on, watching hazily as you drip and drip, more of you and him seeping onto his tongue. he’s insatiable as he licks you clean, unable to resist luring you into a third orgasm.

and when it hits, god, does it hit.

the scream he pulls from your body is deafening, makes him shake with the intensity of it, the vibrations rippling through your body and ricocheting off of his. you relax limply into the mattress, urgently needing a break. you watch through hooded eyes as he slurps anything left of you from his reddened lips, your thighs clenching unconsciously. he just chuckles, flopping down beside you.

“tired, baby?” lando teases, stroking over your rapidly rising and falling ribs.

“just a tad.” you deadpan, unable to hold back the giggles as serotonin soothes you.

“oh, sweetheart. i’m not even nearly done with you yet.” lando grins toothily, deviously.

something he said about fucking you ‘anywhere’ you wanted dawns on you and your eyes widen.

-

anywhere really did mean anywhere.

he’d had to carry you to the shower when you were finally done, holding you close under the spray. you were lost to the memory of him pushing you into the sideboard in the hallway, laying you flat across the kitchen counter, eating you like dessert on the very same sun lounger that you’d been perched on when this whole marathon commenced.

you’re utterly spent, eyelids sagging when he finally sets you down on the sofa, playing on his phone while you fall asleep watching the office.

you’re curled up in lando’s lap, legs hanging over the end of the sofa when max finds you. hair still wet from the much needed shower and fast asleep in his best friends arms. he actively chooses to quell the disgusted curl of his lips. you look so peaceful, safe. his plans to throttle lando for his earlier stint subside.

“call me a wankstain on society later, if you want, but please don’t wake her up.” lando speaks with a hushed tone, not even gracing max with eye contact, his eyes remaining on the candies he’d been crushing before the other fewtrell turned up.

“i- no, i wasn’t gonna call you that. i did, however, consider driving that very nice, very vintage lambo you hired off a cliff.” max mutters. lando scoffs a laugh.

“you would have paid for it.” he still doesn’t look up from the phone. max eyes the way lando strokes your side, in time with the crests and falls of your breath. it’s tender, intimate.

max considers that there’s a strong possibility he was wrong.

“mate, listen-“

“nope. she’s your baby sister, i get it. i get it. you can hate me for it, but you crossed a line going after her like that.” lando finally looks up at max, glowering sternly.

“i’m gonna talk to her.” max bows his head, as if he’s ashamed of himself and lando softens slightly.

“you should, mate. she wants your support, your approval means everything.” lando says. “look, i love her. i really do. and while you were accusing me of trying to ruin her life, you were crushing her.” lando sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of pain. max meets his gaze.

“for the record, i don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for my little sister, but you come pretty fucking close.” max relents, pushing his pride aside, finally. lando smiles, small and knowing.

“i just wanna make her happy.” he shrugs, a look of hopeless romance, utter devotion and pure happiness radiating off of him in waves as he gazes down at your frame. something in max’s belly snaps, the apprehension dissolving to mush. he had gotten this all wrong.

“you do.” he hums, watching how you curl further into lando as you stir in your sleep, the drivers fingers delicately combing your hair away from your face. “but,” max quips.

lando grimaces, bracing himself.

“if you ever, ever, pull something like that again,” max shivers with disgust at the insinuation. “i will remove your bollocks and make you watch me crash the miura.” max swears, pointing a finger of warning.

“seems like everyone’s come to their senses, no more… pranks from me.” lando holds his free hand up in mock surrender.

“have you two kissed and made up yet?” you murmur, stretching out in lando’s arms. you rub sleep from your eyes, sitting up and leaning into your boyfriends solid frame, resting against him as your eyes flit to your brother.

“we’re good. ‘m, uh, sorry.” max nods, attempting to be heartfelt. lando chokes on a laugh as it falls flat.

“you’re “uh, sorry”?” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i’m really sorry.” max tries again, and you grin cheekily at your brother, watching as his shoulders release the tension they’ve been carrying all afternoon. he turns to leave, halfway to the door when you call out to him.

“hey, max?”

“yeah, lovely?” your chest warms at the sweet nickname. you’d forgotten the last time he’d called you that.

“wash your sheets.” your eyes blaze with amusement and you hear lando’s sharp inhale of breath, shocked that you’d gone there.

“you didn’t- my god, you did not-“ max splutters, his face almost green with nausea.

“you’ll never know for sure.” you grin. you think he’s going to faint.

serves the bastard right.

-

hehe

lemme know what u think!! <33

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"Pretty thing, isn't she?"

Preview: LnDs boys reacting to other guys hitting on you.

SYLUS

You stood in front of the heavy wooden doors covered in gilt, a gateway exuberating luxury and inviting only the top 1% of the N109's population, which of course, includes Sylus. You had yet to be used to attending such fancy events but Sylus had managed to convince you by being apart of such events, you would be able to establish your name within the N109 zone quicker and that people would learn not to mess with you as much anymore. Perhaps you were not having a clear mind during then but here you stood now, in the middle of a huge banquet hall, in a maroon red dress that makes you feel naked due to how cocooned you feel within the fit.

"Breathe, then maybe you may not feel so nervous." Sylus slipped an arm around you and started to lead you into the highly ornated hall. You could tell that nobody here belonged to the 'average' class as their manners, demeanours and even body languages rotated around the word demure. Escorted to a standing bar table, your partner leaned down just enough for his lips to hover over the side of your ear and you could feel his hot breath tickled against your lobes. "Stay here, I will get us some drinks." And off he went, his tall figure blending into the crowds of dancing participants.

Sylus strutted over towards the bar and casually leaned against it. One good thing about events as such is other than the free flow of alcohol, waiters are built to be more attentive and aware of their surroundings as they do hold a split image of the host of the event. "One whiskey and a glass of lemon soda." The waiter nodded and immediately started to get to work. Sylus then turned around, his eyes scanning the crowds of people and landing on you, the lady in red still standing at the table alone, awaiting for him.

"Eyeing the bird I see?" A voice chimed out of the blue, laced with a thick British accent that any lady would have been charmed over. Sylus's crimson eyes glanced over and caught sight of a man in a tailored suit, brunette hair slicked back and eyes the shade of ocean. "I wonder if she would be pleased to have company for the night." The hint of tease in his voice got the lover of yours quirking an eyebrow, expressing amusement at the man's confidence.

"You can give it a shot." He snarked, one side of his lips tilted upwards to form a smirk. "She does not seem to be the type to let in so easily." The clink of glass onto the table top got Sylus to turn over, grabbing his glass smoothly and tasting the whiskey. "How does a bet sound?"

"Whoever gets her by the end of the night shall be crowned winner then?" The young man downed his vodka shot in one go and he stood straight, adjusting his outfit and shooting his head back to Sylus, who is still smirking in his direction. "It's on, then."

Watching the man walking over to you, each step radiating manly confidence nearly got Sylus laughing, if only the man knew how hard it was for Sylus to get you to just stay with him. "She may be pretty, but she ain't stupid that's for sure." Picking up her glass of lemon soda, he too, started walking towards the table. Seeing you talking to the British man, slightly chuckling got Sylus feeling an ick at the back of his throat and it did not taste good. He made his presence known by loudly clinking the glass of lemon soda onto the table.

You gulped when you saw Sylus had returned, and accepted the glass of lemon soda he had gotten for you. You boyfriend turned over to the British lad and smiled a bit too politely for his usual manners before he spoke. "The moment you had picked her to be your target, is the moment I already knew I won the bet." His eyes gleamed murder under the shine of the crystal chandeliers. "If I were you, I would scamper off immediately before I hunt you down."

XAVIER

It has been a while since you had been on a hotpot date with your lover. Ever since Captain Jenna had assigned him on a mission, it has been hard to match up both of your timings to plan for a date. Hence, once you received the text from your boyfriend stating that his mission had finally met the end of it's trail, you could not hide your excitement and went ahead to book for a hotpot store that had recently opened up just a few streets down. Your sole motivation of booking the store was hearing Tara's praises over the services offered there. She claimed that anyone who goes in would surely come out feeling refreshed and that was what got you sold on making a reservation.

Perhaps, just maybe, the way Tara had phrased that got you picturing a whole different scenario; where an otherworldly hotpot experience was what you were anticipating, with fastidious services and amazing food and offers you a new kind of service. Yet, here you sat, in the middle of a table with tons of half naked men walking around you, serving hotpot dishes. So this was Tara's definition of feeling refreshed. Palming yourself on the forehead, you were figuring why did you bother asking for a hotpot recommendation from one of your girl friends who happens to be single.

"May I help you with something?" A young man, wrapped in biker shorts and an apron approached you and you gulped, eyes immediately avoiding whatever skin he has to show. Seeing your reaction, a chuckled rolled out of his lips and he took a seat beside you, unaware that you already have a boyfriend as Xavier would be slightly late due to an unexpected traffic jam. "Would you like me to give you a massage to ease your tension hmm?"

You gave an awkward chuckle, hands waving back and forth while rejecting his oncoming offer. "I have a boyfriend and I am not interested. I would like to get a menu please." Just by talking to the guy, it left a bitter taste in your mouth, it felt like you were cheating on Xavier although you were barely doing anything. The weight on the couch shifted and you heard a soft thud, seeing the shadow beside you disappearing out of the corner of your eye.

The waiter that had initially served you headed back towards the counter, his other colleagues wriggling their eyebrows at him. "How's it going with that chick, Ken? You manage to ask for her wechat yet?" One of the guys asked, his pearly whites flashing. But Ken shrugged and muttered something about her having a boyfriend. "Well adding her on wechat is not exactly a crime. No harm in storing a cute girl's number in your phone anyways."

A figure walked past them, stopped mid way and approached them. This figure was leaner, taller, and looked more elegant than the other men adorning aprons and biker shorts within the restaurant. "Which girl?" His voice chimed in and Ken responded without much thought, thinking it was one of his colleagues asking for the target. He pointed exactly at you and the stranger's cerulean blue orbs caught yours and his lips pulled into a warm smile. Seeing you being so uneasy within a crowd of half-naked men amuses him. "Easy. If I get her number, does this mean I get to keep her?"

Ken then noticed the source of the voice, a man dressed up in a wool hoodie, with sandy blond hair and dreamy blue eyes and an innocent smile. He holds very effiminate features for a man. Given that the store was not opened for that long, Ken thought he may be one of the newcomers coming for an interview. "Sure buddy, if you get it, I guess you can keep it. But she does have a boyfriend, she said it herself." Xavier chuckled and casually shrugged his shoulders and sauntered over to you. The men stood by the counter and watched intently.

Watching Xavier talking to you and getting you to smile got the men to exchange glances at one another. Maybe they are missing something, or maybe it did hurt their small ego a little. But the moment Xavier got you by the hand and started to lead you out of the restaurant, the men were shocked, eyes widened and jaws slacked at how Xavier could easily get you to comply. Walking past Ken, Xavier stopped to say. "Next time, if you want to lay a bet, don't be such an airhead and at least lay it with someone who does not have a boyfriend already."

RAFAYEL

Getting stuck in a foreign city with little to no guidance is not that rare of an occurrence as Rafayel does enjoy being 'lost' with you. "That is how you can truly get to enjoy a city." Is what he would usually use to comfort you. However, that sentence of his may only work if the both of you are not entirely soaked under the heavy rain. Shivering, hungry and worn out. "Shall we head in there for some shelter?" Rafayel suggested, slender index finger pointed towards the building ahead of the both of you.

With a slight nod, he led you towards the building. It turned out to be a bustling bar within the small town. Locals filled to the brim, chattering in their own mothertongue while enjoying each other's company. "Stay here, I will get us some drinks." Rafayel informed you and headed off after pressing a small kiss onto your left cheek. The both of your arrival certainly did alerted a couple of the locals. Seeing a drenched couple within a bar is a good sign for them to know that you guys are far from home.

Perched against a standing bar table, you studied the crowd that were occupying the dance floor. The crowd are drenched in the bask of neon glow emitted by the LED lights that hung high above the ceilings. Some of them had drinks in their hand as they swayed to the beat while some others were clearly in their own world, striking dance moves that are attracting a spectacle. "Hey!" A voice called out to you and you turned your head, landing your sight on a tall male figure, with hair that are akin to the sunset and with milky pale skin. Upon approaching you, you caught sight of his emerald eyes that sparkled like eccentric jewels under the dim lights. "You dropped this?!"

Looking down at his palm, he held out your phone to you. The music is probably too loud for you to even notice that your phone had fell out of your pocket and landed onto the floor with a thud. "Yeah!" You responded with the volume that hopefully reaches his ears. The ginger haired man smiled and stood next to you and he started striking a conversation with you, asking if you were alone and if you happen to be a local as well. "Oh, I am from Linkon City and I am not here alone!" You smiled awkwardly but also responded out of a polite manner.

A hand that landed at your back made you jumped slightly and you retreated from the guy's vicinity when you realised he was trying to get close to you. "What's wrong?" Feigning shock, he only closed in on you, a smirk creeping its way onto his face. He looked nothing different than a wolf that is ready to pounce whenever he finds the chance to. "Whatever happens in here, stays in here." His statement got your voice stuck in your throat, your chest tightening when you realised that you are about to get jumped by a 'kind' stranger.

"You have to try so hard to get her to pay attention to you?" A mocking voice came from behind you and your heart sighed in relief when Rafayel towered behind you, two glasses in hand and a genuine amused smile stamped onto his features. "I didn't even have to try to get her to come on this trip with me." Rafayel casually handed you your drink and he took up the space in front of you, his height on par with the guy whom had tried to hit on you. Rafayel's eyes gleamed a shade of striking electric blue when he leaned in towards the guy, his demeanour taking a turn towards being protective and establishinig dominance.

This side of Rafayel got your heart lurching for a moment. Seeing such a nonchalant and charming individual taking a turn towards being protective over you got the butterflies in your stomach blindly colliding with the walls of your insides. "Touch her one more time, I dare you." Snapping his finger, the flames of his evol came alive and the guy muttered curses, stepping aback. "I might not be able to guarantee you would be able to leave here in one piece."

ZAYNE

The cardiac surgeon's off day is spent on paying you a surprise visit during your demonstration day. This day in specific is held annually at the Linkon City Hall, where the public are informed about the roles of a deepspace hunter and it is also a day for the organisation to recruit potential new hunters for their task forces. He remembered that day as you stood in front of him, with a brochure shoved into his arms before you sprinted off like a whimpering fox. The piece of paper featured your face on it, posing with your guns, with a huge title pasted above your head that is promoting 'Hunter's Showdown Performance'. Zayne could not help his lips from tugging into a small smile as he stared blankly at your wannabe serious face on the piece of paper.

You stood at the back of the stage, isolating yourself from the rest of the crew as you quietly rehearsed your steps. You were only given a month to prepare for this demonstration and knowing that you are not able to strike to wanderer actors makes it all the more tedious for you to rehearse your steps. Every movement, every swing of the guns and every shot has to be precise and realistic, minus the actual damage to be taken by the other actors. Executing a full 360 turn, you came to a halt when your name was hollered out by someone in the background. "Y/n!" You turned your head and your partner came up to you, his smile wide. "Hey, you rehearsing for your part?"

Upon nodding your head, he proceeded to ask if it would be alright for him to rehearse his part with you. On usual notes, hunters are usually dispatched in pairs and since Tara is not around, hence Captain Jenna decided to pair you up with Christopher. The rehearse took around 15 minutes till he paused, patting you on your shoulder encouragingly. "You got anyone coming over to watch you?" You opened your mouth to speak but a voice chimed in before you could even say anything else.

"Yes." Zayne stood behind you, his features darkened at the sight of the hand of a stranger's on your shoulder. Christopher coughed slightly and retreated his touch, feeling guilty instantly. You were of course, shocked, that Zayne had managed to make time to come and see this silly demonstration of yours. When you gave him the brochure, you were certainly not expecting him to appear in person. You figured he might just watch it via the online link from his office if he happened to not any surgeries scheduled for the day. You were totally wronged.

"You...uhm...never told me you had a boyfriend." Christopher chuckled awkwardly, his hand lightly tapping and rubbing the back of his neck to somewhat soothe himself from the tense stare he was getting from a pair of unfamiliar emerald orbs.

Zayne took this chance to stand beside you and he extended a hand towards the guy, expression still indifferent. "I am Zayne, y/n's boyfriend, it is nice to meet you." Christopher did shook his hand out of respect but did not took long to stay, muttering that he has to get his makeup done and off he went. You could somehow feel dark clouds crowding in above your head, a storm lingering in the back of Zayne's gaze. "Was that the guy that you were supposed to perform with?" His voice was gentle, but he awaits for your answer.

"Yeah...Tara could not make it during this event, hence Captain Jenna got him to pair up with me for the demonstration." Your voice was slightly quivering, thinking that Zayne might be upset with you not openly telling your colleagues that you are already in a relationship. But you came from his standpoint, as Zayne is someone who cares about his privacy, you figured he might not appreciate you going on yapping about you being in a relationship and would much rather keep it low-key and only between the two of you. "I'm sorry I never mentioned about you to any of my colleagues as I thought you would like to keep our relationship private and confidential."

Zayne's eyes caught yours and he smiled warmly, his hand coming up to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead. You froze, knowing that at this point you would be receiving tons of stares from your surrounding colleagues. "Y/n, as much as I would like to keep our relationship private, I would not like it if someone were to try to take advantage on you just because they think they could." His palm smoothed the baby hairs atop of your head, his smile still evident as he continued speaking softly to you. "If you find it hard to tell your colleagues about us because of me, I will just let my actions show them what we are."

[teddybeartoji]

suguru geto is unbelievably captivating.

he catches your eye immediately – standing tall, he's got one hand on the subway pole to keep his balance. his hair is tucked into his hoodie with only a few strands left out to frame his face. you can only see his side profile but it's enough; a sharp, prominent jawline and a beautiful nose, thin eyebrows, a pierced lip and a pair of tired eyes. you feel bad for thinking it but the dark bags under them leave you no other option.

afternoon sun peeks from the windows behind him, successfully making the scene before you seem like a painting. the colors move; the shades of green flashing by as trees wave you goodbye, the different hues of the tired grays, of the big buildings taking up space as the base of the canvas. splashes of black and white and silver and beige are thrown into the mix, too. his slacks, his big headphones, his jewellery, his totebag. but what truly brings it all together, is his deep, dark maroon hoodie; there's a hint of purple in it aswell, and you just think it's one of the best colors you've ever seen. you figure the thought is a bit silly, but you can't get it out of your head.

something so comforting about it, something so warm and welcoming. something a little murky about it. you can't look away.

you forget about everybody else around you. for you, it's just him in this moment. a total stranger. you don't know him and you probably never will; a pang of hurt hits right under your ribs at the thought. you wonder what his name is, you wonder how his voice sounds. how warm his hands are, and what's his favourite color. no, he doesn't seem like the type to have a favourite color. childish. you'd have to ask about a favourite drink or a book perhaps instead. you're fine with that.

you can spot a few rings on his fingers, a silver watch and a bracelet or two peering from under his sleeve. his hands are pretty. they look good. you also think that you can see a tattoo sprouting from under the collar of his hoodie but the dark lines are blending in with the strands of his hair, so you can't be sure. you want to be sure.

your foot taps against the floor or the cart, your body itching to scoot a little closer to him. you want to see his whole face. you need to. fidgeting with your own fingers, you continue observing the man in front of you. he might step out every second now, you can't waste any more time.

his shoulder seem very broad, his posture almost immaculate. handsome – you think he looks very handsome. well put together. his clothes aren't wrinkled, there isn't a single hair or a speck of dust anywhere on them as far as you can see; the only things that betray his true state of being are his eyes.

purple. glued to the window in front of him, he watches... nothing. he seems a little out of it. he's not focused on the trees or the buildings, the people aside him. you think about what kind of music he might be listening to.

the subway doors open and you jolt, head turning around to look at the platform behind the glass. people stand and leave, and a few come in, leaving an open space for you to take on the bench you're currently sitting on. and you do take it.

there he is.

you can see his eyes a little better now. keen and sharp, he reminds you of a wolf. a malnourished one. the corners of his mouth are tilted down and he really does seem tired. but he's still utterly, utterly beautiful. his skin is almost perfect, his hair shiny and his lips a little glossy. but not too glossy though – no, he definitely uses something like shea butter. something that isn't too thick, something that doesn't smell or taste too strongly. it just seems right.

you've never been this captivated by a stranger before. it's weird. the effect this man has on you without ever even sparing you a glance. you think about asking for it. for a glance. for a second of his time. a fraction of it? anything. everything.

how would he greet you? would he be mad? would he think that you're bothering him? would he give you a smile? a scoff? an eyebrow raise? would he let you ask whatever your heart desires? or would he brush you off, never even removing his headphones when you try to speak to him? oh, it hurts. the blatantly fake heartbreak still hurts.

his trainers are clean - they're white with some accents on them. they match his hoodie. you wonder which he bought first. did he buy the other with the intent of wearing the two pieces together? you want to ask him. that's not his favourite color though, right? no, no – he wouldn't have one. this man reads books and watches movies that are mostly only shown at different festivals. you don't mind it.

films. foreign films. he knows names of the directors from the top of his head, he could probably name a few cinematographers, too. fancy. but that's not his main thing, definitely not. there's something missing, something you can't grasp with just your eyes. what is he passionate about? truly passionate. what does he pour his heart into? is that why he's exhausted? is he tired from loving something? is it starting to hurt now? is it overwhelming? does he want a break? does he want to rest? does he want to get away?

the sun finds your eye from behind his body, forcing you to tear your eyes from him. the cart stops again, the doors open. you try to rub out the slight burn, suddenly a bit frantical that you'll really lose him. you look up and—

he's not there.

he isn't there anymore.

people walk past you, plopping down beside you as you're still trying to find him. turning in your seat, you eye the station. maroon, maroon, maroon, maroon. c'mon, how fast does this man fucking walk?!

but he's just not there.

you think it's unbelievably unfair that it's the sun that made you lose him. isn't she supposed to be full of love? bullshit. with a huff, your shoulders slump and your eyes fall shut while sinking into the bench below you. the cart seems to rumble more now, the seat way more uncomfortable than it was a mere minute ago. you really are disappointed; in yourself and in the world. why didn't you get up? why didn't you speak to him? better to get a no than to drown in the million 'what if' questions in your head. stupid. you're stupid.

"hi."

as you listen to the voice recording of the station names, the very same ones you memorized years ago, you crack open your eyes. your own shoes stare back at you; they're dirtier than his were. you don't think too deeply about the comparison. sun dances on the ground before you, the various shapes entertaining your mind with the shadow play. but you don't stay for long; trailing up, you see the familiar paint and your heart skips a beat. white and maroon. black. maroon. silver.

purple.

[hownicethatis]

The biggest surprise song losses are not the one’s from cities where you can’t even think of attending…. they’re the one’s the day before and after your show…..

[m-ayo-o]

soft sukuna !!! <3 nsfw; abstaining from sex until he realises his baby has a little praise kink!!

"sukuna.. i can't.."

you tell him with a small pout on your lips.

after last time you thought he might be more careful, maybe showing you a little mercy. but no.

your boyfriend wants to fuck, and it seems that he won't be giving up on that idea anytime soon.

"why not?" he grunts his reply, nipping at your earlobe with his body pressed against yours.

your cheeks burn with the feeling of his voice in your ear.

but you squeeze his leg and push on him, creating a small gap between your bodies.

"told you.. already.."

your eyes focus everywhere but his, while his explore your entire body as you squirm beneath him.

"mmh" he vocalises that he doesn't care about what you just said, bringing his hand under your chin to tilt your face up.

"tell me again"

your eyes dart around, then are forced into contact with his.

he gives you a deep, hard stare. maroon irises never leaving yours.

his thumb starts to tug at your bottom lip with impatience.

however much you know he's doing this to humiliate you, or for his own gratification, you don't want him to lose his patience.

"too.." your eyes dip away from his one more time. he gives your chin an encouraging squeeze, a hint of a smirk showing on his lips.

"too big.."

you admit it. again.

that you're abstaining from sex because he hurt you so bad last time that you're scared to do it.

you've been resisting for a whole week!

and damn, it's getting difficult to deny his advances now it's been that long. with him in close proximity, every day, teasing you.

he knows you want it.

but he also knows that it will hurt you.

so he's been working on wearing you down until you start to enjoy the stinging sensation of a cock that's just too big for your tight little hole.

he's going to get you there eventually.

he knows you already enjoy mild pain...

spanking, love bites, grabbing, choking.

but he never knew it would end up like this.

"i'll go easy on you.." he promises, lips moving closer to yours.

you try to back up but your head is still caught in his grasp.

"uh uh. not today sweetheart"

he's let you get away from him a few times this week; slipping through his fingers with a lie in the form of an excuse.

"you don't need to make excuses with me"

his eyes can pick apart your lies in any case. you know there's no point.

"i want to make you feel good"

your lip is between your teeth, eyes wide, your brain scrambling to consider what you're being offered right now.

he's bending over backwards to ensure you get a good fuck.

can you trust him?

~

"nnghh- su-sukuna-"

you lie back on the bed with his cock nudging at your sweet entrance.

that's where he wants to be.

he's got tunnel vision now.

after he gave you one orgasm with his fingers, to loosen you up, he couldn't wait any longer.

the way your pussy gripped over his fingers made him seethe with anger that his cock wasn't deep inside you, coated with your slick.

"ughh-" he sighs out, black ink hooking over his heaving chest.

he's getting so impatient now and you really need him to calm down or he's going to hurt you again.

this is how it always happens.

a kind of aggression takes over his body when he gets like this.

angry that your pussy won't let him in.

angry that he can give you pleasure with his fingers.

with his mouth.

but oh no, that's not what he wants.

he wants you cumming on his cock.

and that's what he's going to get.

regaining his composure, his eyes focus on your body again.

crimson meets pretty pink, the shade of your flushed pussy lips.

and he stares intently, smoothing his hands over your tummy.

"calm down, sweetheart"

he hums, sounding almost caring.

"i need you to relax for me, ok?"

you nod and place a hand around one of his wrists.

"please.. can i hold your hand?" you ask, batting your lashes.

ugh. this lovey dovey shit makes his blood boil.

but for you?

"sure, princess"

his fingers lace with yours, palms together, pressed to the pillow.

he takes a few deep breaths, encouraging you to do the same, as your body eases up and starts to relax, just like he asked.

"good girl" he coos, squeezing your hand gently.

he feels your pussy flutter gently against his tip, that's pressed hard and leaking on your wet body.

without realising what he's doing, only understanding that you like this- the way he's talking to you right now- he suddenly learns that you need him to reassure you.

you want him to be soft and gentle with you.

so that's what he's going to give you.

"that's it, baby," his voice is so calm and soothing, you listen to every word with your eyes glistening.

"you're doing so well, i just need you to open up for me, okay?"

the sinister, curling rasp is almost lost from his voice, being replaced by a tone so unfamiliar you question that this is really your man above you right now.

"s- sukuna?"

"uh huh?" he looks up from your pussy, where your bodies are connecting with strings of your wetness, to your pretty face.

oh god, your gorgeous face.

and for once, you don't look scared of him.

you're smiling at him; you look excited.

fuck that's got him going more than he'd like to admit.

"thank you.." your eyes sparkle with that pretty smile and he swears he can't help that feeling deep in his chest.

he supresses an eye roll and nudges his forehead against yours.

you know you better watch it with the romantic stuff or he might change his mind.

but for now, he's got you. and you've got him.

he presses on your thigh, opening your legs wider, and he starts moving his hips.

the smooth, thick tip of his cock glides into you.

"fuck-" he sighs over your lips, feeling as shocked as you.

that shouldn't have been so easy.

but it was.

"well done, baby.." he coos, rewarding you with a tender kiss.

"think you can take a little more for me?"

a little? sure.

"uh huh," you nod, eager to please this kind, sweet side of your man.

"good.." the tone of his voice makes you melt into the cushions that he placed under you, for your comfort.

your body feels so open to him right now, he pushes a little further.

hips sliding smoothly closer.

"nghh- ah-" the noises come out of your throat without thinking, your free hand landing on the back of his head where the dark hair of his undercut meets his neck.

"good?" he pushes you to answer, his smirk growing wider.

and you can't lie to him, it feels amazing.

"y-yes.."

he can feel your hand squeezing on his and he knows you're ready for more.

a few more inches.

"thaat's it, baby" he eases it in, your legs opening wider and hooking around his back.

god he thought he understood what you liked so well?

hot, passionate, rough sex.

yeah, it's great. it's fun.

but every now and then even the kinkiest girls need a break.

"nearly all the way, sweetheart" his voice finds your ears again when you're feeling so close to bliss already.

he peers down between your bodies, getting hot and messy, his abs rubbing against your soft, plushy stomach, and he realises how close you are to taking him whole.

the sight of that makes his cock swell and throb, sending another wave of pure ecstasy through you.

"easy, easy baby--"

he draws in a sharp breath and you can see him struggling, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

"can feel you squeezing me... tight.." he moans.

"gonna.. go all the way in now, ok?"

you nod and he leans down over you, pressing his lips to your neck with his arms caging you in. your hands find his shoulders, his back, his hair, anything to grab onto.

"uhh- baby.."

he chokes out, feeling the warmth of your pussy over his whole cock.

"took all of me.. fuck.."

his hips start moving slowly, in tandem with the strings of disbelieving sighs that flow out of his mouth.

"you're not hurting, huh?"

he checks, pulling himself all the way out before sinking right back in again when you shake your head.

he sees your eyes roll back, your hand clasping over your mouth to suppress a loud whimper.

"d-doesn't hurt- at all--" you manage to get out between your heavy, pleasured breaths as he eases himself in and out of you.

"good," he looks down at your expression- seeing his girl like this makes his heart swell. he needs to tell you.

"good girl"

that will have to do for now.

feeling your whole body reaction to his praise is good enough.

next time maybe he'll surprise you with a few more words...

[samuelsdean]

Sweater Weather

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: "want to warm up?" he gestured to the hem of his sweater with a hint of concern in his eyes.

genre: fluff

word count: 1k

author's notes: i'm back with another spencer fic! i miss my baby and his fluffy sweaters so much i had to write about it.

THE BAU HUMMED WITH THE GENTLE WHOOSHING OF THE HARSH AIR CONDITIONER, THE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS CASTING A BRIGHT PALLOR OVER EVERYTHING. You huddled deeper into your thin knitted sweater, the thin material a weak attempt at shielding yourself against the bone-deep chill. You blame it on the current heat wave the Quantico area is facing these days . You would've opted for thicker clothing to adequately face the onslaught of the office's air conditioner, if not for the debilitating heat you'd suffer from once you've stepped foot outside of the building.

You sighed, climate change sucks ass.

Today was a slow day—or at least compared to your usual at the BAU—there was no new case. Thankfully. Maybe serial killers do know how to take breaks from time to time; unfortunately for federal agents, breaks were uncommon. If you weren't out chasing whatever criminal who spawned at the most random backwoods in the country, you were stuck at your desk poring through case files, the only sound competing with the monotonous drone of the ventilation system.

A sliver of envy pricked at you as you stole a glance at Spencer, perched on his chair like a Greek statue sculpted from focus. He seemed impervious to the cold in a yellow button-down and his thick-knitted maroon sweater. He was a beacon of warmth and comfort in his thick sweater as if to mock your lack of layers fending the chilliness in the BAU that could practically rival the iciness of the Arctic. Suddenly, a traitorous draft snaked down your spine, sending shivers cascading across your skin.

You rubbed your hands together, a futile attempt to generate some friction heat. A sigh threatened to escape your lips, but you bit it back, hoping the day wouldn't drag on much longer. You couldn't wait to get back home and bury yourself in your bed before you freeze to death at your desk or worse, get another call from Hotch saying you have a case sprouting out of nowhere.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Spencer shift. He flicked a glance your way, his gaze lingering on your clenched fists a beat too long. A question lurked in the quirked brow he offered.

"Cold?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the rustling papers.

You offered a weak smile and sniffed, a single nod the only response you could muster.

Hesitation flickered across his face, then, in a move so swift it stole your breath, he patted the extra chair beside his. "Come here," he said softly.

Confusion battled the tinge of warmth that had started in your chest as you shuffled closer to your coworker. As you settled beside him, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Want to warm up?" He gestured to the hem of his sweater with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Understanding bloomed on your face, accompanied by a blush that crept up your neck.

"Oh," you mumbled. "I... I-um, are you sure, Spence? I mean, it's pretty cold here."

This was unorthodox , to say the least . But the thought of thawing your frozen fingers was undeniably appealing.

"I wouldn't want to impose on you..." You continued but were cut off.

Without missing a beat, Spencer lifted the edge of his sweater, creating a welcoming pocket before you could finish what you were sputtering about.

You bit your lip, then slowly reached out, your fingers disappearing into the soft wool. The sensation was like burrowing into a cloud, sun-warmed and comforting. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you wiggled your fingers, relishing the sudden relief. Instantly, you remembered you were currently clinging to Spencer like a baby koala and squeaked in embarrassment.

A soft chuckle rumbled in Spencer's chest, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He continued to work, stealing occasional glances at your hands nestled beneath his sweater. A warmth bloomed in your chest that had nothing to do with temperature. It was as if time stopped between you and the man as you created your little bubble encompassing just you and Spencer; forgetting that it wasn't just the two of you in the room, but also the rest of your team.

Out of nowhere, Spencer began to murmur something that you could barely hear despite the proximity between you two, so you scuffled closer and leaned toward him. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I hope you're comfortable," Spencer mumbled, his voice barely a whisper above the rustling papers . A hint of pink dusted his cheeks, a telltale sign of his usual shyness.

You flashed him a warm smile. " Absolutely, Spence. Thanks for offering."

He dipped his head in a quick nod, then, after a moment's hesitation, surprised you with a question. "Did you know women tend to feel colder than men?

Intrigued, you hummed in response, enjoying the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he spoke.

There was a childlike eagerness in Spencer's voice whenever he delved into his knowledge. You knew it stemmed from a time in his life when conversation was scarce—too busy taking care of his mom and raising himself. You always encouraged him, finding his enthusiasm endearing. His voice, with its gentle cadence and thoughtful delivery, held a certain charm, or maybe it was just a crush, one you'd harbored since day one, but refused to admit it, for fear of being rejected.

"It's all about body composition and size," he explained, facts tumbling out in a rapid stream . "Women generally have less muscle mass, which generates heat. Plus, they have a higher percentage of body fat compared to men, about 6 to 11%. And being smaller means women have a larger surface area to volume ratio, leading to faster heat loss."

You feigned contemplation, nodding thoughtfully. A playful smile lit up your face, making a blush creep up Spencer's neck. "Well, then I guess I'm lucky to have you and your sweater, wouldn't you say?"

He stammered, his hand instinctively reaching to scratch his neck. A shy bob of his head was his only reply.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, the air thick with unspoken feelings. Lost in the warmth of shared space, the workday flew by unnoticed. As you gathered your things, your eyes met Spencer's. A shy smile played on his lips, and in that silent exchange, a secret bloomed amidst the usual hustle and bustle of the BAU.

The team, privy to your oblivious dance, exchanged knowing glances and muffled snickers. "Ah, young love," Rossi chuckled under his breath.

[monamipencil]

when strawberries bloom (teaser)

“When the strawberries bloom, I'll be by your side.”

premise. mingyu is content with his life in the capitol as a victor, although he's haunted by the images of the nightmare he lived ten years ago. but all that comes to an abrupt stop, when he discovers that you—his greatest demise had been alive all this time.

content. hunger games! au, victor! mingyu, f! reader, pseudo major character death, hints of trauma, mingyu is a blink away from alcohol poisoning, capitol shenanigans, this is set in the period of second rebellion, slow burn, jealousy, both of them are in denial, fight scenes, friends to lovers (?) to strangers to rivals (it's one sided??) to ???, angst, fluff, crack, smut. heavy fruit metaphor, yearning, pining, happy ending.

warnings. will be added in the fic post.

word count. tba.

release date. around december end.

author’s note. this is a part of the ‘catching fire’ collab hosted by @vitaminkyeom. i'm very excited to write this and share with you guys. though i'm barely done with fic, i thought i'd put out as a teaser to fuel me to finish it. and pls feel free to come to my inbox and scream abt this fic <33 send an ask to be added to the taglist !

Mingyu controls a deep sigh as yet another woman presses herself against him in the name of dancing. He fakes his gaze, pretending to be enamoured. The strong perfume she’d used makes his head throb, and irritate his nostrils. 

The woman whispers sultrily, “I can’t believe I got you all to myself tonight.”

She flutters her eyelashes at him, her hands playing with the tie of his masquerade mask. It only covers the lower half of his face���a skillfully sculpted skull mask, lined with golden chains. He avoids looking at her, eyes darting all over the room to find something to fixate on. 

His lack of attention doesn’t seem to faze the woman as she only steps in closer. He bites his tongue and focuses on the details of the mansion. Gold painting lines the ivory walls that are basked in the dim lights of the party now. Grand, maroon curtains hangs by the arched windows, slightly swaying as the wind flows in. 

Awe turns into confusion which is replaced by disappointment when his eyes land on a glowing liquor fountain. But if he’s really honest, he’s a bit intrigued and his tongue feels dry, aching for the bitter taste of alcohol on it. 

Another shift of his eyes lands on a familiar lady, adorned in a black gown and dancing with an old man. He recognizes you as the lady from the balcony though your face is now obscured with a masquerade mask. Relief floods through his system, if he had to catch another glance at your face, his heart would stop beating once and for all. 

But as Mingyu had discovered long ago, things never really go the way he wishes them to. You turn your head, catching his gaze. Heat floods his cheeks and all the oxygen trickles out his lungs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you maintain eye contact. He doesn’t realise that he had stopped dancing till the woman whines. The sound prickles his skin, sending a shot of annoyance through him. 

All the voices around Mingyu drown out, turning into a mere buzz. A vine wraps around his heart, its thorns puncturing the gentle muscle. He watches as you shift your attention. Your beautiful lips curving into a smile, reacting to whatever the man had said. Your body leaning towards the old gamemaker, drawing attention to your cleavage. Rage courses through his veins along with another feeling. Jealousy. 

The feeling is foreign to him and he can’t even deduce why he’s jealous. Or, he knows why he’s jealous but even that mere idea seems incredulous. Still envy coils in his gut, rattling its tail at him and mocking him. Your eyes land on him again, and his heart skips a beat. 

Just then, the song switches, carrying a seductive note. Soon, the woman is whisked away and not even a second later, you end up in his arms. His hands skate down your silk gown to the small of your back and he pulls you flush against him. The proximity makes your breath hitch and you place your arm on his shoulders, swaying to the notes. Your breaths mingle together, body heat diffusing into one.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe you look too much like her, but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. With a sudden craving of intimacy, he holds you tight against him and the other intertwines with your left hand as you both sway to the flowing music. 

Any rational thought is chucked out his mind. The more he looks into your eyes, the more you look like her. In contrast to his prior wish, he wants your mask gone now. It obscures most of your face, cutting off near your right cheekbone to expose your right eye. 

He brushes stray hair aside. His soft, manicured nail beds caress the exposed skin off your face. You tighten your hold on him, doe eyes staring up at him with something he can’t pinpoint. His heartbeat quickens, a strange nostalgia permeates the air. Mingyu swears that this has happened before, a sense of deja vu fills his veins. 

Before he could comprehend his own actions, he undoes your mask. The sultry note tunes out into nothingness and the world seems to have stopped spinning. The mask hits the ground with a clank that gets muffled in the shock of the revelation. 

And there stands Kim Mingyu with his long lost lover and best friend who’s supposedly dead. 

You mirror his expression, horror staining your face as you shuffle to retrieve your mask. All while he stands still, going over the millions of possibilities. Why and how are you alive? Or is this a sick joke that someone is trying to play on him? 

You try to slip away from him, but he catches your hand, stopping you in your tracks. His grip tightens when you try to pull your hand away. His fingers brush over a bump on your skin, drawing attention to it. His eyes land on a scar that runs from the palm of your left hand to your wrist. 

Just then, you free yourself from his grip and escape into the bustling crowd of the party, leaving him alone. Though the mansion is filled with hundreds of citizens, an impermeable bubble seems to surround him—as if no one had witnessed what had occurred. It makes Mingyu question whether you’re real or if he made you up, like a mad man. 

send an ask to be added to the taglist !

[drghostwrite]

Your Honor, She’s irresistible…

okay not a request… but like I’m OBSESSED with this woman right now… like can’t get enough and can I just say round of applause STANDING OVATION for @covenofagatha… please my loves go support her, she’s literally amazing!!💋

side note: if this is bad PLEASE let a girl know, or if there is anything I should change… I’m begging, please let me know.

Okay enough rambling here is my take on an Agatha x reader…

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!lawyer!reader

Summary: Reader is a cutthroat intimidating lawyer, but also a powerful witch… a witch that used to be the enemy turned lover of the Agatha Harkness, the lover that Agatha abandoned… one night Agatha reappears and rekindles an old spark.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, breeding kink, strap-on and oral smut(r receiving)

*******************************************************

You can feel the exhaustion clinging to you as you pull your sleek, black Range Rover into the garage, its low purr echoing in the enclosed space. The leather steering wheel feels smooth beneath your fingers, the faint scent of your signature perfume lingering in the air. You shut off the engine and exhale, leaning your head back against the seat for a brief moment before opening the door.

Something feels… off.

The air seems thicker tonight, heavier, as though it’s pressing down on you. You shake it off, slipping your heels onto the polished floor and shutting the door behind you with a practiced flick of your wrist, and you stride through the door that leads into your home, your designer heels clicking rhythmically against the floor.

You’ve had a long day, winning a nearly impossible case and leaving your opponents scrambling. The thrill of the victory is overshadowed only by the aching knot at the base of your neck. As you shrug off your tailored tan trench coat and hang it neatly by the door, you toss your keys into the porcelain bowl on the side table.

Your brain goes on autopilot as you pass through the living room, your eyes brushing over the soft glow of the fireplace and the way it casts golden hues against your minimalist decor. Nothing seems out of place. Still, that feeling gnaws at the edges of your awareness.

In the kitchen, you pour yourself a glass of deep red wine, savoring the way the liquid slides into the crystal glass. You take a small sip, letting it linger on your tongue, as you move back to the living room. That’s when you hear it—a low, sultry chuckle that sends a shiver cascading down your spine.

“Nice place. Very… you,” the voice purrs.

You whirl around, the stem of your wineglass nearly slipping through your fingers, and there she is.

“Agatha,” you say, tone as sharp as the stilettos your wearing.

Her smirk widened, eyes darkening as she purred, “Well hello to you to darling.”

Her voice was rich, smooth as silk but twice as dangerous as she sits lounging in your favorite armchair as though she belongs there, one leg crossed lazily over the other. Her signature purple pants cling to her in all the right places, the soft fabric stretching across her toned thighs. The white button-up she’s wearing is undone just enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of her breast, the glint of her pendant resting in the hollow of her throat catching the firelight. She looks smug. Dangerous. Devastatingly beautiful.

“Breaking and entering, Agatha?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. You take another slow sip of your wine, masking the way your pulse is racing. “Even for you, that’s bold.”

“Please,” her lips curving into a smirk. “Do you really think a deadbolt is enough to keep me out? Besides…” Her eyes trail over you, “I’ve been dying to see you in your element. You wear power well, darling…”

You can feel her eyes as they take in your strong form, the maroon suit, with your satin black top slightly unbuttoned, your satin designer heels showing off the curve and tone of your legs.

She bites her bottom lip while she smirks, “I mean, look at you… you’re far more tempting than you realize in those designer stilettos”

You scoff, but you can’t help the heat spreading through your body. “And you wear arrogance like a badge of honor… is this your idea of seduction, Agatha?… Breaking into my house and throwing around cheap compliments?”

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees as she studied you, a suggestive smirk on her lips. “Who said anything about seduction? But… if I were seducing you, I’d hardly call it cheap. I’d say something more like…” Her voice dipped into a sultry tone, and her eyes flashed with something dark.

“Your suit… flawless. But I bet you look even better without it. And those heels?… Darling, they belong wrapped around my waist.”

You tried keeping your composure but your face flushed at her words, at the image of your bodies tangled together, tasting her on your lips, Agatha in your bed, flashing in your mind.

Her chuckle deepens as she leans forward, “I missed this, you know? Missed you… That fire in your eyes, that razor-sharp tongue of yours. Tell me, do you save all your sass for me, or do your clients get to enjoy it too?”

“Get to the point, Agatha,” you snap, trying to ignore the way her words are already winding their way under your skin. “Why are you here?”

“To see you, of course,” she says smoothly, standing in one fluid motion. Her boots click softly against the floor as she steps toward you, her eyes never leaving yours. “You know, I thought time away would make me forget. But then I realized… I don’t want to forget you.”

Her words are velvet and steel, cutting and caressing all at once. She’s close now, so close you can smell her—lavender and something darker, more intoxicating. You don’t step back. Instead, you lift your chin, meeting her gaze head-on.

“You left me, Agatha… I should throw you out,” you say, though your voice has lost some of its bite as your lips are a breath apart.

“But you won’t,” she counters, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve missed me. Admit it.”

“Missed what? Your penchant for chaos? Your never-ending ego?… something like that.”

“Admit that you love that I was never afraid of you… never afraid of your power.” she murmurs, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. Her hand comes up, fingers brushing against the lapel of your blazer, and you shiver despite yourself. “You missed this. Us.”

“Maybe… still, you think you can walk back into my life, my home and have me fall at your feet?” You shot back trying to hold onto whatever dignity you had left.

“My love, I don’t need you to fall at my feet… I just need you to take off those pretty shoes and kneel.”

Before you can respond, her hand trails down to your waist, her touch igniting a fire you’ve been trying to extinguish for years.

Damn her. Damn her and her perfect smirk, her piercing blue eyes.

“God, I hate you,” you mutter, your voice betraying you, trembling with need and something far more dangerous.

“Funny,” she says, leaning in again so her lips are just a breath away from yours. “Because I think I’m still in love with you.”

The words unravel something inside you. Before you can think, you’re kicking off your stilettos, pushing her back into the chair, dropping to your knees in front of her.

Your hands glide up her thighs, the fabric of her pants taut beneath your touch. Her breath hitches, and the sound makes the heat in your core pool even more.

“Say it again,” you demand, your voice low as you bury your face against her stomach, your hands gripping her hips.

She tightens her fingers in your hair, tugging just enough to make you look up at her. Her blue eyes are shimmering with something dark. “I love you,” she murmurs, her voice a seductive promise.

You rise slowly, crawling up her body until your lips crash into hers, years of tension and desire finally breaking free. Her hands are everywhere… your waist, your hips, your back… as you kiss her like she’s the only thing anchoring you to the world.

When you finally pull back, gasping for air, your hands move to her shirt, your fingers ghost over exposed skin before ripping it open to reveal dark purple lace. Agatha laughs, the sound rich and full and you can feel your body wanting to have every part of her.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” she teases, her hands skillfully take off your blazer and top, revealing black lingerie underneath, fingers splaying across the exposed skin of your stomach and sides.

“Shut up,” you whisper, pressing your lips to hers in a bruising kiss, her hand finding the clasp of your bra, pausing to see if you stop her.

You don’t.

“Still bossy I see… guess somethings never change.” You cut her off with another breathtaking kiss, her hands coming to support your hips as you straddle her lap.

“Agatha…” you whisper, suddenly very aware of how much you needed her touch.

“What do you need, my love?” She whispers teasingly, placing kisses along your stomach and breast, she bites into your breast leaving marks that will be found tomorrow morning.

“Dammit Agatha… I need…” her hands guide your hips as you grind down into her lap, trying to relieve the ache you feel building, her hand unbuttons your pants ghosting over the black lace panties.

“Your words darling… use your words.”

“I need you… to fuck me…” you moan as her hand dips into your panties, her long fingers sliding easily through your folds, ghosting over your clit, dipping back into you collecting your slick, as your pretty sure you’ve now ruined your underwear and a perfectly tailored pair of pants.

“Darling, I’m going to ruin you…” she whispers, suddenly pulling her hand out, you can see yourself glistening on her fingers as she puts them in her mouth, her tongue cleaning them before she pulls you down to kiss her, you can taste yourself on her lips.

You grind down into her hips even harder a moan escaping your lips at the friction, but this time you notice the bulge in her pants. You pull back and see her pupils blown with lust, her smirk devilish.

“Shittt…” you hiss at the realization making you even wetter than before, if that’s humanly possible. Immediately your hands were tugging at her pants as you stood to pull them down her thighs, the large purple strap on springing free.

“You didn’t think I’d forget your favorite part did you…” she teased, reaching for your chin as your jaw dropped.

“Why don’t you show me how you get ready to ride my dick?” She demanded more than suggested. You dropped to your knees in front of her again, dragging your tongue along the length. You let the tip smoothly slide into your mouth swirling your tongue around the toy, and quickly realizing it wasn’t just a toy when her head dropped back lips parted. Her hand came to wrap in your hair as you slightly bobbed your head.

She could feel this.

You grasped her thigh to steady yourself before taking the whole member in your mouth, almost gagging as it slid into your throat, her hand in your hair tightened but the sting only encouraged you. Your lungs burned for air as her hips jolted against you, but before you could continue she pulled you off, as she breathlessly readjusted in the chair. She smirked down on you before her nails lifted your chin, digging into the soft skin.

“I’m so screwed…” you whispered before bending down to kiss her again.

“fucked, darling… you’re so fucked…” with a wave of her hand you were both completely bare accept for the dick she was currently sporting, she grasped your hand to pull you into her lap, her hands coming to your thighs as she steadied you.

You bit your lip and a small whine escaped as you felt her pull the tip through your dripping core, she could see you dripping down your thighs, glistening in the soft glow from the fireplace.

“I’ve missed seeing you so desperate… so needy for me to fuck you senseless…” She whispered as she pushed herself inside you. You took a moment to adjust as you sank down onto her, you didn’t remember her ever being this big, but the pain quickly turned to pleasure.

You slowly start to move up and down, swirling your hips the best you could, you were so close already.

“Mmm…” she moaned before biting her lip, watching you move, “I forgot how good you look riding me.”

Her sultry tone was igniting a fire in you, your movements speeding up as you brought yourself to the edge of pleasure, one hand pressed to her chest as the other was on her thigh. You could feel her enchanted strap, her dick pulsing inside you, she moved an arm to wrap around your waist and roughly pulled you close.

You tried steadying yourself at the loss of balance, one hand coming to the back of the chair and the other slid up to grab the only thing it met, her neck.

You gently grasped to steady yourself and you could feel her groan catch in her throat, her hips bucking into you roughly and you clenched around her, sending you both tumbling over the edge. You bend down pulling her into a breathless kiss as your orgasm overtakes you, you can feel her painting your walls white as she cums inside you.

You stay like that for a moment before your hands lower to wrap around her shoulders, your brain barely able to form a thought.

The world around you blurs and you barely register as she shifts, so effortlessly changing the dynamic that your head spins. One moment you’re in control and the next you’re under her, her body caging yours on your plush couch. She pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other slipping down to grip your thigh.

“Still think you’re in charge?” She asks, her breathe warm against your ear.

“I let you think you’re winning,” you grinned lazily, “Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh sweetheart, I never get used to anything with you, that’s the fun of it.” Agatha bends down her lips trailing the soft skin of your jawline and neck. Her hands mapping your curves with possessive hunger as she adjusts herself between your legs.

She has your entire being at her mercy, your magics surging through the room. Her hand comes down between your legs, finding your core dripping from the aftermath of both yours and her orgasms, her cum mixing with yours and leaking out of you, her fingers dip down to collect it before teasingly playing with your clit.

“Such a good girl, greedily taking my cum like that.”

She smiles devilishly, but before you can respond her mouth is on your pussy, eating you out, her tongue swirling on your clit as two fingers easily slip inside you, curling to hit that sweet spongy spot.

Your moans fill the room as she drags your body to the edge, her fingers continue to pump in and out, as her lips trail softly against your inner thigh, her teeth grazing to leave marks that you will find later. Your hand tangles in her hair as her mouth returns to your clit, your hips bucking into her, grinding against her mouth as she smirks up at you.

That’s when she pulls her fingers out, her tongue flatly coming to drag through your folds before she realigns her strap thrusting deep into you… a moan escapes your lip as she leaves wet kisses over your stomach and back up to your chest. You turn into a mess beneath her as she slowly, almost painfully slow, moves in and out of you.

Her voice is low and sultry when she finally breaks the silence, “Do you have any idea how stunning you would look pregnant?” She murmurs, placing wet kisses along your collar bone.

Your breath catches and you blink at her startled, “Excuse me?”

Agatha chuckles, her hands sliding down to grip your hips roughly. Her nails dig into your skin, possessive and firm. She lifts her head, her piercing blue eyes meeting yours,

“You heard me,” she says, her tone dripping with confidence. “I’m going to put a baby in you.”

Your mind spins at her words, a thousand responses swirling through your head. But Agatha doesn’t give you a chance to react, her lips return to your skin, and her voice drops into a whisper.

“Can’t you picture it, darling?” she says, her words punctuated by the warm press of her lips against your neck as she slowly thrusts into you again. “You, round and glowing, carrying our child. You’d look divine. Absolutely ravishing.”

The thought catches you completely off guard, and for a moment, you’re speechless. Agatha takes advantage of your silence, her hand sliding up your side, her touch gentle and grounding as her thrusts become quicker.

“You’d be mine,” she continues, her voice thick with possession as she feels you buck and clench around her. “Completely, utterly mine. Everyone would see it… see you… and know you belong to me. We’d belong to each other.”

You inhale sharply, your pulse hammering in your ears, your brain going completely blank aside from the image of you heavily pregnant with her baby. “Agatha,” you start, your voice uncertain, but there’s no denying the way her words send heat pooling low in your stomach, the knot tightening inside of you ready to burst.

Her voice drops to a husky murmur. “You’re already thinking about it, aren’t you? The thought of me putting my mark on you, making you mine in every way that matters.” Her lips ghost over your jawline, her breath warm against your skin her hips meeting yours harder. “You’d be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The boldness of her words makes your cheeks flush, but beneath the surprise theres a thrill you can’t ignore. The idea is outrageous, unthinkable… and yet, there’s a part of you that finds it intoxicating.

You tilt your head, eyes meeting hers and you breathlessly whisper, “You’re awfully confident for someone who hasn’t asked my opinion.”

Agatha’s grin widens, “Oh, I don’t need to ask... I can feel it, the way you clenched around my dick when I mentioned filling you up. You’re tempted. You want it as much as I do.”

Her words are a challenge, daring you to deny her, but instead of pulling away, you arch an eyebrow, your hips grinding roughly against her. “And what if I do?”

Her eyes darken, the air between you crackling with tension. “Then tell me,” she murmurs, her grip on you tightening slightly. “Say it… Tell me to do it.”

For a moment, you hesitate, the weight of her words settling in your chest. But then, as you meet her gaze, steady and unyielding, something inside you shifts. This is Agatha… chaos and passion and raw, unfiltered power. If anyone could make such an impossible idea feel like destiny, it’s her.

You lean in, your lips brushing against her ear as you whisper, “Do it, cum in me and make sure I’m pregnant with your baby… make me yours.”

She grinned before pulling you into a breathless kiss, the sounds of wet skin meeting skin filling the room as she rammed into you over and over, your back arched into her as her hands ran over your body, gently slithering up your sides before one came to grip the back of your thigh.

You could feel her getting sloppy as she thrusted, her lips coming down to suck on a erect nipple as you tangled your hand in her hair, your other hand dragging your nails over her shoulder, leaving a wake of red scratches.

“Agatha… baby I’m gonna…” Before you could finish, the knot snapped, pleasure flooding your body as she continued thrusting harshly into you, soon you could feel her as she released inside of you.

“You did so well darling…” she trailed as she tried holding herself above you, the strap on still inside you.

After a few moments later you moved, with a flick of your wrist you found yourselves in your bed, still naked, but cleaned up and cozily tangled together underneath your blankets.

“You won’t regret this…” she trailed her skilled fingers tracing lazy patterns against the skin of your stomach and hip, “I’ll give you everything you wanted… and more.”

You didn’t say anything as you heard her breathing slow, her hand falling softly against you as she slipped into a deep sleep. There was a part of you that knew it might not work, you had been enemies turned lovers before and she abandoned you, but there was a bigger part of you that still loved her.

No matter how much you wanted to hate her, you loved her and wanted nothing more than to make it known that you belonged to her… and that she belonged to you.

[seattlesellie]

dads best friend!abby scenario cause why the hell not.

cw: sexual themes mdni, age gap, abby’s a cocky but charming asshole, power dynamics-ish? : ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

— "Oh and honey? Doctor Anderson's coming over for dinner" Everything felt oppressively hot and everything felt impossibly tight. The food seared your tongue, humid steam rising from the vegetables on your plate causing your throat to constrict and your eyes to sting with tears. Your right hand was clenched in a tight fist, left hand gripping your fork like it might grow legs and run away if you let go of your grasp. Your tights were itching relentlessly, tank top strap kept sliding off of your shoulder and built itself a home down your arm. Your lipgloss felt too sticky and your palms too clammy, you felt agitated, uncomfortable and way too goddamn nervous.

You felt consumed.

You didn’t know why.

Sure, Doctor Anderson was attractive, with palms twice bigger than yours. She wore a tight fitted muscle tee that had you squinting then turning your head around fast enough to crack your neck, noticing a goddamn six pack poking through maroon fabric. And yeah, she had an intoxicating scent of pine and wood and a hint of pepper that made your eyes nearly roll back inside of your skull, voice silky smooth, thighs firm and muscular, eyes icy blue, a smile that made you melt and all that stupid jazz,

but none of these things were a good enough explanation to why you were feeling this way — dazed, stupid, all bothered.

She sat down on the dinner table’s leather chair in a manspread as if she owned the place, and her thighs bulked up even more, veins of her arms becoming more prominent. She always knew what to say, and when you cracked a joke about orthopedic surgeons she cheekily told you to “watch it” — which made you thickly gulp and sheepishly smile down to the floor like your idol from age thirteen just told you they want to marry you and have you forever.

You needed an ice bath, but she also wouldn’t stop goddamn looking at you, even when you made it clear that eye contact with the surgeon, your father’s best friend, was a task that you apparently couldn’t manage to complete.

Her look made you nervous, and when she narrowed her eyes you nearly choked on a carrot, and when your father asked you “What’s wrong, kid?” you couldn’t even answer because what was wrong — was that you had to cross your legs together cause of some aching down there, and what was wrong is that his best friend made you feel like you were losing your mind at 9pm with a fork glued to your palm.

So you lied.

“M’just... tired, I guess” you murmured, then fake yawned, then internally cringed at yourself for performing the worlds fakest goddamn yawn.

“Already?” he voiced, shifting his gaze towards a visibly amused Abby. “Quite the night owl, that one... usually”

"What can I say, dad, loooong day" answered you, with a syrupy voice she wanted to stick her fingers inside and lick.

Abby chuckled, then smirked at you even though the response wasn’t directed at her. Then, she looked over to your father who was gnawing on some overcooked steak.

“She’s a kid, needs to get her sleep”

You scoffed, which made doctor Anderson poke the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “What...?” she murmured cockily, cracking a toothy grin. Your tights felt tight again, glued to your hot flesh, then you realized why they fucking call them tights because dammit they really are tight.

“I'm not a kid, can, y’know... drink, and stuff. Plus... M'busy, with... College"

You sounded like a damn idiot. All Abby did was chuckle and tilt her head back slightly, leaning further back in her chair.

“T'aw, I know, What'ryou studying again? Fashion science?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. That bitch.

"Sorry I don't wanna go to medical school and spend seven years of my life sticking my hands down a corpse"

So you didn’t go to your room after that, caught up in a whirlwind of proving a point. You stayed stubbornly with your feet glued to the floor and listened to Abby and your father ramble and yap on about work shenanigans. Usually, you’d semi doze off at this point, go on your phone and occasionally throw a snarky remark, but this was different. She was different than any of his other friends. Abby was actually funny, she didn’t brag too much, and if she did it faded quick cause she really was that good.

Abby threw a reference to a book you thought no one else had read except for you. You timidly lifted your gaze and remarked, “Oh, i read that book, actually”

Abby smiled and flattened her hands on the wooden table. “Smart cookie, huh? Did you like it?”

You batted your eyelashes like a kitten seeking more strokes at the praise, not noticing that body language of yours.

But she did.

You talked about the book for a solid ten minutes. Your father was the one, surprisingly, to go on his phone and faux-snort when he felt excluded from the conversation ran by two intellectuals and a giant elephant who goes by the name of "Tension", in the middle of the room.

Abby made you laugh and she made you think and she listened to your anecdotes. It made you buzz with electricity, and it made you yearn for her attention.

it also made her long for yours.

Your father interrupted by showing Abby a picture from work. When her eyes lowered to his phone, she shot you a lingering gaze and a smirk. You, feeling a rush of heat to your cheeks, shyly looked away.

It was tight everywhere all over again.

So they talked more about work, Abby’s patients, their coworkers, Doctor Martha’s chicken pot pie, Doctor Johnson’s bizarre antics, the glass door no one bothered on calling to be fixed, blah blah blah, an endless stream of chatter.

And you listened, you listened with rapt attention, every ounce of your focus aimed at the prospect of another one-on-one conversation with Abby. Each time the older woman casted you with a quick glance, you flushed even harder. You waited, and waited and waited but your father was a blabber mouth, and you were oh so impatient,

you began mindlessly kicking the wooden table's legs.

Your sock-covered feet shifted restlessly from side to side, then you tucked them beneath your chair and resumed kicking, the movements gaining force. You curled your toes and continued to play with the table's handles. Abby winced, but you didn’t pay her any mind. You kicked again, with more force now.

You sighed.

Abby cleared her throat, and her cheeks suddenly bore a faint crimson blush. You couldn't help but notice, hm, must be the red wine finally catching on to her form. Ignoring, you kicked again, and the doctors back straightened and she stiffened in response. Your father asked her a question, and Abby… stammered.

“Yeah, that guys… uh— yeah”

You rested your chin on your hands and lightly tapped your fingertips against your cheeks thrice.

Then you kicked again, harder, you were bored and restless, waiting, give me some attention, Abby —

And then, you felt a pair of shoes encase your feet, ankles creating a cage around yours. It was then and only then that you had the startling realization: you hadn't been kicking the table at all. Instead, you had been unknowingly engaged in a game of footsies beneath the table with a goddamn world class surgeon.

And oh god did you want to die.

And oh god did abby sport a shit eating grin on her face that only you seemed to catch.

You froze, not even able to release your feet from her iron like grip. Unmistakably, she didn’t seem to release her grip either. So she kept them there, caged and locked.

“Alright,” your father sighed and cleared his throat. “Got some cuban cigars in the yard, shall we?” he gestured towards Abby, who was still holding your feet in her tight grasp.

“Yeah, go ‘head, I’ll just clear the table” she murmured absentmindedly. So kind and polite, huh?

You father chuckled and tapped abby on her shoulder, as he rose from his sit and straightened his back. “Nah, let the kid handle it”

Abby shot you a glance. Your pupils were dilated and your chest heaved rapidly up and down.

“She's not a kid, remember?”

Abby let go of your feet and you rose from the chair with such haste, you nearly had whiplash. When you lifted your plate, staying mute, looking like a deer caught in headlights as your father paced towards the yard, Abby gazed at you, and her eyebrow arched up in utter amusement.

“You uh, play soccer, by any chance?” quipped her, crossing her arms on her firm hard muscly chest.

You gulped.

“Huh?”

Abby lifted her wine glass to her lips, taking a sip that left a glistening sheen on her bottom lip. A chuckle escaped her.

“Jus’, y’know… with all the kicking, and everything. I mean, take a girl out for a drink before you do all that, yeah?”

You stood in shock, you didn’t speak, didn’t mutter a word, merely humming in response. Abby grabbed the plates from your hand, and then she grabbed the salt.

She furrowed her eyebrows and huffed. “M'just ’joking, smart cookie. If you wanna play, let's play"

Then you heard your father’s voice down the hall.

“Sweetheart?” he paced closer as Abby walked towards the sink. He leaned over the wall,

“forgot to mention it to you but, Abby’s staying over for the weekend”

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part V

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

Warnings: toxic!p, language, sexual themes, themes of cheating etc

Wordcount: 5.8k

A/N: WE ARE BACK! no smut in this one sorry ik you love it but i think this a bit of a turning point in the fic :) again pls send me feedback and live reactions! it's the best part of writing this series ANYWAY GO READ ty for everything you guys do

-

We’re both sweaty, my skin sticking to hers as we try and catch our breaths - that fourth round had really done us in. If it hadn’t been for me, I’m sure the blonde next to me would’ve gone for fifth. That damn athlete’s stamina. This had become a daily routine the past week, ever since our sleepover.

“You stayin’ over, right?” Paige asks, hand in my hair brushing through it gently. I consider it, the idea of falling asleep in her arms, getting to wake up being held tight by her warming me, but in the back of my mind there’s something gnawing at me. I’m pretty sure I had something to do tonight. Oh right. Jay. Shit.

Clumsily climbing out of bed and pulling on my clothes with urgency makes Paige let out a confused chuckle as she sits up, watching me closely. “Damn ma, chill, you can go if you want.”

“No, I just-” I mumble through my red knitted sweater, pulling it over my head. “I was supposed to see Jay.” In fact Jay had insisted we celebrate because it’s been exactly a month since we started seeing each other. I didn’t really get it. Maybe if we were actually dating, and even then just after one month felt… Excessive to me. But she had insisted.

Paige goes uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, a hint of something unfamiliar on her face as I pull up my flared yoga pants. I check myself in the mirror, mascara smudged over undereyes, lipstick all over my face and my perfectly styled blowout matted at the back - I looked completely fucked out. The hickey on my collarbone, and the smell of Paige’s cologne on my clothes didn’t help my case.

“Paigeee!” I groan at the reflection staring back at me, scrunching my face as I force my long brown locks into a high ponytail, but the blonde sitting behind me on her purple comforter remains quiet, eyes low and face stoic. It’s so unlike her I turn around, tightening my pony as I watch her concerned. “P?”

She finally lifts her gaze from the corner of her room to meet my face, smiling weakly. I could tell something was off, and it made my stomach stir. Before I can ask Paige leans her head against the wall behind her, looking to the ceiling and taking a deep breath.

“You sure you can’t stay?”

It sounds vulnerable, almost pleading if I didn’t know better. For a moment I waver, but instead I brush it off, turning back to the mirror and fixing my makeup while Paige watches on the bed.

“Nah, she wanted to celebrate our one month… Something,” I murmur, reapplying the maroon lipstick.

A deep sigh from Paige fills the room as she fidgets with her hands before bringing them up to her jaw, rubbing it.

“Why are you with her?”

“Huh?” I ask, turning to her but she won’t meet my gaze.

“You heard me, why are you with her?”

I’m baffled, astonished by the question. A blush rising to my cheeks I suddenly feel defensive for some reason - mostly because there was no good reason. Jay was nice enough and I liked her company. Sometimes. But at least I knew for certain she would never do what Paige had done to me in the past. Never.

“Because she’s good to me! How’s that any of your business anyway?” my voice rises as I ask, my arms crossing but Paige is quick to get up and walk over to me, pulling me into a hug.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you right,” she quickly lets out, rubbing up and down my back and the anger immediately subsides. “Stupid question, sorry.” She sounds almost scared. I had never heard her sound like that. Trying to understand what it meant made my mind turn to mush so I focus on the way she kisses my forehead and holds my face, our eyes meeting.

“Thursday then? After my game?” Paige suggests, now kissing my neck, making me forget all about who was waiting for me. My eyes flutter shut as I hum, trying to answer.

“I can’t,” I murmur, Paige’s lips doing their best work as her teeth nibble my earlobe making me hiss. “Me and Jay are gonna come watch you play,” I admit breathlessly, making her pull away from me.

“Seriously?” She asks, brows furrowed in annoyance. I shrug, unsure why she was so upset.

“I’ve been beggin’ for you to come see me play and nothin’? But for Justine…?”

“It’s her birthday! I promised I’d do what she wanted!” I argue, my voice rising the tiniest bit once more.

Paige looks at the ground and shakes her head frustrated, breathing heavy through her mouth. I couldn’t help but feel a little bad, I never in a million years thought she cared this much about me seeing her play. I didn’t even care about going with Jay. Honestly, I just wanted to see Paige in her element. I loved listening to her talk about ball, the way her eyes sparkled with knowledge and passion. She might be a piece of shit and an asshole but I really admired her resilience and ambition. If Paige was anything it was incredibly focused and dedicated. Sometimes to her own fault, I thought.

“Besides I bet Claire or-”

“Clara.”

“Right, Clara, will be there to watch you play!” Her name tastes sour in my mouth.

“I don’ care about her, want you watchin’ me!”

“Well I will be watchin’ you!”

“With Justine!” Paige groans with a roll of her eyes, her hands waving around as she speaks. I watch her bewildered when it hits me. She’s jealous. Paige Bueckers is jealous.

“You’re jealous?” slips from my mouth with a confused scoff, making Paige freeze. She looks at me for a moment, debating, then shaking her head.

“No. I just- I don’ wanna talk about it, I don’t wanna fight,” she sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. There’s a hint of defeat in her voice which makes me waver. My annoyance and confusion slip away as I watch the way her blue eyes soften. 

“Let’s not fight Val, please.”

“Okay,” I hum and let her pull me into a hug. As her nose buries into my hair, for a second I think she’s smelling it, inhaling carefully - but I must be mistaken. She had never done that before.

“P I gotta go,” I murmur against her chest, not wanting to but knowing Jay was growing more and more suspicious as time passed. Frankly, we still weren’t exclusive so none of this was technically cheating. Still, I hadn’t told her. I had convinced myself that eventually I would. I just don’t know when.

“I’ll walk you,” she whispers, making me chuckle.

“Yeah that wouldn’t be sus at all huh?”

Paige grins, looking down at me. “Just tell her we’re fucking around.”

With a furrow of my brows I shake my head. “Nah.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Paige is smirking smugly now, staring into me. “Oh because then you’d have to tell her how I fuck you better than she do?”

I blush and roll my eyes. I wasn’t about to admit she was right.

Pushing her off me, I grab my bag from the floor and give her one last glance. She reaches her hand to my jaw and holds it, pressing a tender kiss to my lips making my heart flutter for a second.

“Text me when you’re there ma,” she murmurs against my lips before letting go and opening her door for me.

“I will.”

Waving bye to Jana and Allie too who I’d become friendly with this last week, I walk out of the dorm into the chilly evening, February still forcing me to wear my white puffer jacket. I wrap it around me tightly as I hurry towards Jay’s dorm, trying not to think myself to the grave over Paige’s behaviour  - loving, caring, a different Paige than I knew last fall. I almost wish she was the same as she used to be, the careless player who didn’t let me sleep over or get to know her roommates. Because now I had what I had always wanted from her. Except it wasn’t a dream come true. It was terrifying. My heart wanted to give in, to let myself feel. But I was horrified of what she could do again, how she might hurt me this time.

I’m still in my thoughts when I reach Jay’s door, knocking on it urgently. Before I can even lower my hand, she opens the door, a frown on her face.

“You’re late.” she says, letting me in nevertheless. The room is lit with candles, homemade dinner gone cold on the plates and a bouquet of flowers in a vase - my heart sinks. Not because I missed out on what Jay had planned, but because I didn’t want this. Not from her. I felt like a piece of shit for thinking that this was way too much. But it’s true. 

“Fuck Jay, I’m so sorry. I got caught up at Ted’s. I didn’t know a Tuesday night would be this busy,” I chuckle trying to lighten the mood, seeing a teddy bear with a big red bowtie sitting on the couch, giving me the creeps.

“Whatever Val,” she sighs, clearing the plates away. I watch, not sure what to say.

“Your roommates, where-”

Jay turns to me, tears in her eyes. “I paid them both to be out tonight, to make tonight special. But you didn’t even come.”

“I’m here now!” I say, walking over and grabbing her hands. I never knew what to do when someone cried, I wasn’t the consoling type, I was the advice type. My friends didn’t come to me to be comforted, they came to me to know what to do next. I always had a plan. But this was way out of my comfort zone. I hated when girls cried because of me.

“Look, I’m sorry, it was so busy. I didn’t even realise I was late,” I lie, looking straight into her blue eyes. It’s hard, I don’t like it, but the words slip from my lips more easily than I thought. 

Jay pouts and nods, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It’s not your fault just… next time call.” Her voice is weak. I really felt like an asshole. I had to end it with Paige, I knew I did. I just simply couldn’t. My heart didn’t let me for some reason.

“Okay, I’m sorry Jay. C’mere.” I pull her into a kiss, but it feels wrong, icky almost. She kisses me back though, her hands wrapping around my waist. I catch a whiff of Paige’s cologne on my sweater.

“Let’s order pizza, okay?” I ask against her lips, not wanting to open my eyes and face reality, the tugging of my heartstrings. I felt like I was being ripped apart, stuck between crossroads. I could feel myself falling for Paige. I knew it by the way my heart ached when we said goodbye, the way my eyes were constantly looking for her in a crowd. I was falling for her, yes. But the moment I admitted that the fear would come roaring in, like a tide, ready to bury everything underneath it. She had so many tools to hurt me, so many that she was unaware of. God if she knew how I felt I’m sure I’d never heard from her again. It would ruin everything. Being with Jay was good, secure, the right thing to do. Even if I didn’t feel half as much for her, my heart didn’t flutter for her - at least she couldn’t break it either.

-

Be you. Be great.

I watch the text from my dad flash on my screen, sitting in front of my cubby, legs bouncing nervously. I already knew we’d win today - we weren’t playing anyone special. An attitude Geno would surely smack the back of my head for, but it’s simply true. It wasn’t the upcoming game making my finger tap nervously against the back of my phone, it was the text I had typed out, my finger hovering over the send button, making my stomach flutter.

Miss u Val

“Yo warmups!” KK snaps me out of my trance, my finger accidentally pressing down on the send button. Shit. Now Valerie was gonna know I miss her. 

Sure it had only been a couple days since she was last in my arms, but being away from her made my heart ache. Usually the more I saw a girl the less I wanted to see her. Valerie, however, seemed to have the opposite effect. I couldn’t get enough. Guess it had something to do with the “feelings” I had for her.

“Shit you scared me,” I chuckle, my cheeks turning red as I hide the screen which KK does not miss. She grins at me, elbowing my shoulder teasingly.

“You texting Valerie?”

“Yooo,” I roll my eyes but don’t deny it, a sly smile forming on my face. Raising my brows and scratching the back of my head I look at the shorter girl standing in front of me. “She’s comin’ to watch tonight.”

“Oh forreal?”

“With Justine,” I scoff, standing up to join KK in heading in for the warmups, my jersey on, hidden underneath the warmup clothes. She snorts and shakes her head.

“Crazy work to name a child that,” She laughs.

Nodding, I snort a little. “That’s what I’m sayin’ like.” I might joke, but Justine was the one getting to bring Valerie to a game. Not me. I would take a stupid name like that too if it meant I got to do that.

“You jealous?” KK asks, noticing the way my teeth grind together. I quickly shake my head, not very convincingly, but flexing a little to make up for it. “Nah, I’m the ultimate rizzler remember? Nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

Truthfully? I was a little worried. Taking a deep breath I try to push that feeling away as we enter the court, the seats slowly filling as the crowd makes their way in.

“Bro just tell her how you feel,” KK murmurs as we both stretch, watching some of the girls running around the court.

Her words make me scoff, how naive. “It’s not that simple,” my voice is stern. No one seemed to understand the pressure I was under, not even my best friend. To even suggest something like that felt insane. I couldn’t tell Valerie. Not with a natty on the line, not with all this pressure. 

Besides, what then? She feels the same and we date? I’d make a shit girlfriend, I know it. I was too selfish, an asshole. I wasn’t girlfriend material. Not for anyone as special, as precious as my Valerie. All she did was complicate things. Even now, my head was spinning with the thought of her. As if I don’t have to be at my best, have my head in the game in like an hour. God, I need to get a grip. Maybe I deserved to lose today. I was unfocused, a disappointment.

“Girl you’re an idiot,” KK sighs as we jog up and down the court. My eyes are immediately looking over the student section when her golden brown hair glimmers in the light like a beacon just for me to find her. She’s sitting in the third row, legs crossed in a mini denim skirt, much too short for the weather outside. An oversized black sweater reveals her left shoulder and collarbone, the mark I had left visible to everyone. Bold. I suppose Jay must have thought it was her doing. Boy if she knew. Part of me wanted everyone to know she’s mine. Only she wasn’t.

It’s not just Valerie’s hair, but the gold dangling on her wrist as she brushes her hair back, the rings decorating her fingers and the earrings contrasting against her dark locks that make the whole place shimmer, all because of her. I simply can’t look away. My twisted fantasies of having some sort of ownership over the brunette is quickly interrupted when Justine’s hand wraps around her shoulders and I notice the blonde girl, kissing Valerie’s cheek. My Valerie’s. I nearly trip over my feet, making KK laugh out loud - her laughter echoing around the court, taunting me.

-

“Guys what the hell is wrong with you, we should be up by 20 at this point against a school like this? That was the worst offense I’ve seen in my who-”

Geno’s scolding is ear-piercing as I sit in the dressing room next to the other girls, my elbows leaving red marks on my thighs as I lean against them and wipe the sweat dripping down my neck. My chest heaves as Geno takes turns chewing off each of us, dreading for my own turn.

We were only leading by four pathetic points, and had to struggle even for that. It was all my fault, I already knew. I didn’t need Geno or anyone to tell me that. I was unfocused, making bad decisions, causing turnovers - I even missed a free throw for the sole reason that just moments before I had seen Jay’s lips pressing into Valerie’s. God, just the thought was making me feel sick.

“Paige,” Geno’s stern voice snaps me out of it, my eyes lifting to meet his. But all he does is shake his head, and it’s even worse than him yelling at me. I wanted him to cuss me out, anything else.  “You know,” he simply says and I nod. I did know.

At least now I had the confirmation of everything I had suspected all along. A girl was nothing but a disturbance, a hitch in my plans. I can’t believe I had let myself do this, get distracted because of some girl. A classic fool. And I was about to make a fool out of my whole team too.

Once Geno leaves and gives us some time before the third quarter, I check my phone, my repentant thoughts quickly subsiding when I see the texts.

i miss you too p

fuck you look hot in that jersey

okay biceps you looking swole? when have you had time to hit the gym that much

wish i could come spend the night

My heart flutters, all of it is flattering sure. But it’s the first and last message that get me to take deep breaths. She misses me. She wants to spend the night with me. The weight on my chest eases up.

U should come over after

i can’t

promised jay

Fuck Justine 

Just come up w sumn

you really miss me that bad?

So fucking bad baby

Going to ted’s after the game

ok i’ll figure something out

Something about the texting and the adrenaline from the game made me bolder, more honest.

Valerie?

yeah?

U look gorgous

Gorjes

gorgeous?

Shut up it’s hard to spell :(

student athlete who

Gotta go warm up

paige?

Yeah?

go kill em

-

It’s hard to miss the moment the Huskies walk in, all in a big group in their navy blue Uconn trackies laughing and hyping up the blonde in the middle, whose face is scrunched up as she tells them to chill. I knew Paige well enough that she didn’t mean any of that, she loved the limelight.

All of the second half of the game Paige had been glowing on the court, completely unguardable, the star I always knew she was. With her help the Huskies had won with a 20 point lead despite the rough first half. I could’ve watched her forever. Every shot, every pass, every block had me on my toes, and I swear I was always the first one to jump to my feet to cheer for her. I forgot about the crowd, even Jay next to me. On the court it might as well just have been Paige Bueckers, I wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

“Babe, tell Alex I’m right!” Jay interrupts my thoughts, forcing my eyes to snap from Paige to her sitting around a table with some of her friends, a red partyhat on her head for the birthday celebration.

I blink stupidly, having missed the whole conversation.

“Shots for everyone!!” I hear Paige yell behind me, forcing a crooked smile to grow on my face.

“Uh sorry I couldn’t hear you,” I admit, glancing over my shoulder hoping the tall blonde would notice me eyeing her. She was too busy leaning over the bar, clearly eager for the drinks.

Jay giggles and presses a wet kiss on my forehead. “You’re so cute,” she murmurs. I nearly vomit. 

Suddenly claustrophobic from her closeness, I brush Jay’s hand away. “I need another drink.”

“But you still have some-”

I quickly down the rest of my vodka soda, before standing up and taking quick steps in my boots towards the group of really, really tall girls surrounding Paige, flutters in my stomach growing with each step.

“Valerie!” KK is the first to notice me and wrap an arm around me. The sound of my name makes Paige’s head snap towards my direction, the smile on her face only growing wider when she sees me. Without thinking and before I can stop her, Paige is wrapping her hands around my waist and spinning me in the air, giggling, her head on my shoulder.

“Oh my God put me down!” My command is not cogent, the chuckles making me less convincing. Paige obeys anyway and lets me go, both of us glancing towards the table where Jay is sitting, still immersed in conversation with her friends. Feeling bold, Paige’s hand rapidly slides down my back to my ass, groping it harshly before letting go. The fact that Jay could see only makes me want her to do it again. Maybe I should see a therapist.

“Val I know you’re not working but can you make the Shirleys pleaaaase,” the blonde in front of me begs, her pleading blue eyes almost getting to me. “They’re fire.”

“No! I’m a free woman tonight!” I proclaim, leaning my elbows against the bar. Paige does the same, her side pressing into mine sending jolts all over me. 

“Fine, whatchu drinkin’ ma?” she asks. “Vodka soda?”

“With crush-”

“Crushed lime, I know.”

Paige orders the drink, paying for it without making it a big deal in any way. I always found her smoothness so incredibly sexy. Right now as she stood there, elbows on the bar, chewing on her bottom lip, shower fresh and beaming from the win, I swear I had never felt so attracted to her. It wasn’t just pure lust, but something else too. Something more.

“That third quarter,” I start, the praise immediately causing a smirk to grow on the blonde’s face.

“Yeah? You watched me?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

I smile too, looking down to my feet. “You were born to do that.”

When our eyes meet again there’s a hint of something vulnerable and genuine in Paige’s expression. All the other noise seems to quiet down, leaving us in our own bubble, just us two. It bursts quickly when I feel a hand wrap around my waist. I know who it is before I even look, evident by the pure annoyance on Paige’s face.

“Hey babe are you fangirling over here?” She jokes, kissing my cheek. I pull away a little but Jay’s a few too many drinks in to notice.

Paige quickly smiles and shakes her head, sipping her drink. “Nah, I was. She makes the best dirty Shirley around, trust.”

I stare into her blue eyes, secretly enjoying this little game we were playing. Tiptoeing the line between strangers and something more.

“Yeah she insisted on getting me a drink for all the times she’s been yelling into my ear to play Drake,” I tease back, my mind immediately going to the many nights Paige had made her way behind the bar, one time even getting on her knees on the disgusting, sticky floor and begging me to let her play a few songs. From the smirk on her face, I know Paige is thinking the same.

Jay’s eyebrows shoot up watching us, clearly surprised. “Hm. No one told me you two know each other that well.”

“I mean we don’t, I just know she works here,” Paige quickly corrects, her brows furrowing as she points to me. “Your name’s uh… Vivien?”

“Valerie.”

Paige and me both smirk a little, Jay missing it completely. 

“Riiight sorry,” Paige grins, sipping her drink and turning to the blonde next to me. “Sick hat.” She’s being sarcastic.

“Thanks man, it’s my birthday,” Jay answers, a little flustered at the attention she was getting from the girl in front of us.

“Damn, happy birthday,” Paige says politely, patting Jay’s shoulder in a manner only I knew was condescending. 

Excusing herself, Paige leaves me and the blonde girl by the bar, every cell in my body screaming to follow her.

“Paige Bueckers just wished me happy birthday,” Jay says in awe.

-

The girl whose waist I’m holding, kissing my neck might as well not exist - I barely notice her. My stare is locked on Valerie and Justine, giggling and dancing in the corner of the packed bar. They look happy. 

A pang of guilt washes over me momentarily. Here’s Justine who, yeah sure is short, but really seems to like Valerie, takes good care of her. And maybe Valerie would learn to be happy with her if I just let her. The nauseating images of them adopting a dog together, getting married, raising children and growing old with each other flash through my mind. It’s enough to cause a tremble in my lower lip, my eyes welling up. The ache in my chest was trying to tell me something I wasn’t ready to admit.

“Can we go back to yours?” Clara hums, her teeth nibbling on my earlobe when a single tear rolls down my right cheek. I quickly wipe it off, my eyes finally turning to the girl next to me. To my relief she’s too busy trying to turn me on to notice my red eyes.

“Not now Clara,” I murmur, my voice barely audible over the music and chatter.

The girl’s face scrunches up in annoyance as I push her off me, gently but with a firm hand.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been like this all night, it’s like I’m not even here.”

“Not now.” I rub the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes and trying to take calming breaths.

“If you don’t want me he-”

“I don’t want you here Clara, I didn’t even ask you to come.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence between us, the girl next to me staring at me with wide eyes, hurt written all over her face. I wasn’t strong enough to fight how I felt anymore. It was time to face my feelings, even if it scared me.

“This is over, okay?” I admit, my gaze meeting Clara’s. She blinks at me slowly, processing. I feel like I should say something, explain myself. But nothing I could say would make it better so I stay quiet.

In silence, I watch Clara hop down from the bar stool and look at me one more time.

“My friends were right about you.”

With that she leaves Ted’s and relief washes over me. I grab my phone, and type out a text.

I’m sorry but I can’t see u anymore, just got too much going on

I copy and paste it, sending the words to each girl on my roster, not bothering to wait for any responses before deleting their numbers. Zoe, Jenny, Sofia, all gone. It was almost exhilarating, the way my body worked before my brain could catch up. Glancing to the opposite corner of the bar I finally catch Valerie’s eye. I nod my head towards the bathrooms before heading in myself. She’s quick to follow, leaving Justine behind. It was time to be brave, the kind of person who deserved Valerie.

The bathrooms are tiny, both of us making the space more cramped when I let Valerie in, locking the door behind us. Before she can say anything, her big brown eyes blinking at me, I’m kissing her. Not with any other agenda except aching to feel her lips on mine. My left hand cups her face, right hand holding her body close to me by her waist. Hungry for more, my tongue slips between her lips.

“Paige…” Valerie’s voice is soft against my lips, her breathing heavy as her hands hold my hips. 

“Shh,” I hum, my hands gently brushing through her hair as my kisses turn from hungry to loving, our lips slowing down in their dance. After a while we both pull away breathless, our foreheads resting against one another. Before my brain catches up, the words spill from my mouth.

“Leave her.”

Valerie’s brown eyes widen as she leans her head back to look at me.

“I- huh?” 

I swallow, thinking about doubling down for an instant. No. This needs to be it. Be brave Paige.

“Justine. Leave her.” There’s a hint of anxiety in my trembling voice, but the way I stare at the brunette girl in front of me lets her know I’m serious. Her expression is hard to read, the cramped space muffling the sounds of the world outside. In this moment it’s just us. Frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. I might really screw us up now. Lose her forever. But I didn’t have any fight left in me. It was bound to happen.

“Why?” she asks, her dark brows furrowing a little.

I scoff lightly, taking her hands in mine.

“Why? You know why.”

From the way Valerie blinks at me confirms that she did know - this wasn’t just sleeping around anymore, this had gone beyond. We both knew.

My thumbs smooth over the soft skin of her petite hands, the red polish decorating her nails, the chunky gold rings cool against my fingertips. I was trying to be patient, giving her time to process. But the pounding in my chest was making me lightheaded, the anxiety making my cheeks turn red. I felt vulnerable, exposed, terrified. Yet, I don’t speak or hurry her.

“No, stop it.”

Before I realise what’s happening, Valerie pulls her hands away from me, her eyes full of suspicion. My stomach stirs as she reaches for the door but I stop her.

“No, wait, please Val,” I plead, hand on the door handle.

“I can’t do this again,” Valerie cries out, her eyes filling with tears. I reach to wipe them away but she moves back from me. It breaks my heart.

“No ma, ‘s not like that this time. I left Clara, I left all of ‘em. Fuck all of ‘em ok? I don’t want ‘em!” My voice is desperate, chasing the brunette’s brown eyes as she avoids my gaze. 

“I need some air,” she murmurs, unlocking the door. However she doesn’t get far before bumping into Justine’s chest, standing right outside the bathroom eyeing both of us.

All three of us go silent as the blonde girl stares dumbfounded. 

“What the fuck is going on?” She slurs, alcohol evident in her voice.

“Jay I-” Valerie starts but Justine is quick to flip around and take hurried steps towards the exit. I follow the brunette out of Ted’s, the parking lot quiet on a rainy night.

“Jay, please wait! Let me explain!” Valerie pleads, grabbing Justine’s hand but she pushes her away, forcing the brunette to stumble back a little. My fingers flex with anger as I step between the two girls.

“Whoa, yo nuh uh,” I say sternly, shaking my head at Justine who’s looking at me like she might actually jump me. I wasn’t worried, I could take her. “Don’t touch her.”

The blonde scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You can’t tell me not to touch my girl!”

Her girl? I feel anger rising from my gut, heat ascending to my neck and cheeks. I step into her space, looking down at her as I do. 

“Don’t you get it?” I chuckle, an arrogant smirk on my face, basking in the way she had to tilt her head up to look at me. “Val’s not your girl.”

“Paige-” Valerie’s voice is careful behind me, her hand gently reaching for my forearm.

“You wanna know why she been too tired to come over? Because she’s been in my bed, getting fucked like she deserv-”

“PAIGE!”

Valerie pulls me back by my arm, her eyes wide and furious as she looks up at me. The adrenaline was making me bold, I wanted the world to know she’s mine. No one else’s. My Valerie.

“Fuck you both.” Justine slurs, heading back inside the bar, clearly not the fighting type. Deep deep down I wish she had jumped me just so I had the excuse to punch her at least once for calling Valerie her girl.

The brunette lets go of me and scoffs, shaking her head as she starts walking away from me. Suddenly coming to my senses, I follow behind her apologetically.

“Ma, wait.”

“Paige what are you doing?” She cries out, a desperate frustration evident in the way she speaks as she turns to look at me.

I step into her space, hands itching to touch her. Better not. Not right now. Biting my lower lip I sigh and shake my head.

“Sorry it just pissed me off hearing her-”

She’s not listening but profusely shaking her head, eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand you, I don’t get what you want from me!” She bursts out. My hands come to hold her shoulders, taking it as a good sign when she lets me.

“I want you Val,” I finally admit. Not just to her but to myself.

“But what does that even mean?!” She’s clearly frustrated, tired of the confusing cat and mouse game we’d been playing since we met. I was tired too.

“Look ma, I’m done with all the other girls, and you’re done with Justine. I dunno what that means but-”

“But what? We date? Become girlfriends? Then what?” She spews. I rub my forehead and eyes with my hand, feeling my head spinning. Maybe I hadn’t thought this through.

“Maybe-”

“Until you find the next girl you wanna fuck? Or freak out again?”

“No Val not this time-”

“How do you know?” She asks, a hint of desperation in her voice, looking for any sign that this was a risk worth taking.

“I uh,” I mumble, my skin turning hot, bringing my hands behind my head, rubbing my hair, trying to soothe myself.

“How do you know, Paige?!” Valerie screams, her big brown eyes pleading with me for a reason. Before my brain could catch up my mouth’s already forming the words. The words I had not had the time to admit to myself yet - that feeling that had been gnawing at me for weeks now. The twist in my gut, the dizziness in my head. I finally understood.

“Because I love you Valerie!”

-

taglist:  @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @bueckersfive @onlyhereforpazzi @lovegalor333 @frankoceanlvr303039 @angryflowerwitch@mamixdanni @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @vbueckers @sageworld @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @justliketoreadsowhat@oreo2sblog @sftlyortega @slvt4her @julieloveswbb@vsz333 @faeries-posts @vamptizm @ellapurnellmybeloved @ivorygoal @onlyhereforpazzi @thelightknight21@paigeluvvr@absolutelydreadful@imamartini@lupinqs@authentic-girl03@isurpussygreen@xxloveralways14 (SORRY IF I FORGOT TO TAG)

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

hello my queen :)) i hope i'm not asking too much of you, is it alright if you just write a short drabble with könig and plus size reader? smut or fluff, whatever you're in the mood for. there's no good plus size reader fics and yours are some of the best :((

Anything for you, Lizzy 🩷

Tale of the Tummy 🌸

FYI, he wears no mask in this :)

You almost kill your boyfriend when you step out in your new dress.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

It was a Friday night, and König had insisted on taking you out on a date. He loved seeing you get all dolled up.

All that shining jewelry that sat so nicely against your skin, the dresses and skirts that hugged your figure so nicely he could've sworn he'd gone to heaven.

Your hair, your eyes, your lips- it drove him crazy. You were the most beautiful woman in his eyes.

You'd just finished your makeup, adding the final touch with the swipe of your lipstick. You descended the stairs in your new dress, your shoes in one hand and your purse in the other.

"Honey? I'm ready!" You called out, searching for your lover.

You found your giant of a boyfriend in the kitchen, leaning against the counter while nursing a glass of water.

He wore a black suit, deep maroon accents scattered throughout the ensemble in the form of a tie, socks, watch band and a pocket square.

The fabric stretched across his broad back and narrowed into the fitting sleeves that hugged his bulging arms perfectly.

The seams of his pants were close to bursting, trying to contain the trunks that were his thighs. His ass looked great, too.

"There you are!" You smiled, walking over to him.

You let out a low whistle followed by a giggle.

"Look at you, so handsome-"

before you could finish the teasing compliment he glanced over at you and choked on his water, and curiously, spit it out at the same time.

He coughed and heaved for air and you rushed over to him with a gasp, firmly patting his back to get the water out of his airway.

After he'd caught his breath and your hand was soothingly dragging up and down his spine, he looked at you again.

Your brows were furrowed and he could see the concern in your eyes.

"Are you alright?" You asked, worry tinting your tone. König nodded and cleared his throat.

"You look stunning, liebling." He smiled, his voice hoarse still.

"Thank you." You accepted the compliment and took a step back, twirling to show off the full outfit.

His eyes widened as he took you in fully, more than just the glance from a moment ago.

"Alter Schwede..." he breathed, pupils blown.

He swallowed thickly, eyes raking over your figure.

How were you so soft?

Your curves looked delicious, he had to hold himself back or he would've literally taken a bite out of you.

Your bare feet that would soon be caged into uncomfortable heels -the things we do for fashion- the long, flowy skirt that hid your legs.

König had to admit he missed the sight of your thighs. How they'd spill when you sat down, the dimples and cellulite that were so uniquely you.

Your wide hips that felt so natural in his hands or when you were seated in his lap.

His gaze skipped onto your face. Your round cheeks, your sparkling eyes accompanied by those pretty lips, and your radiant smile.

You were beautiful in every way he could possibly imagine.

The neck he loved to kiss and cover in love bites was adorned by a necklace that he'd bought for you, the precious stones shimmering in the light.

And God, the sight of your plush décolletage that felt so nice against his cheek was showing just a hint of a collarbone and he almost groaned at the sight of your breasts in that dress.

König would have to thank the lady who took the measurements for your bra, because they looked heavenly. Or should he thank your mom? God? Mother Nature?

He had no time to dwell on it because he made the fatal mistake of letting his eyes drop further.

Your tummy, so soft and rounded, dented the fabric of your dress just slightly. It was something you felt ruined the outfit sometimes, but it was by far his favorite part.

The curve of your pudge and the outline of our bellybutton were things he'd dreamed of, he knew it.

Your brows furrowed as you watched him stare at you with parted lips.

Without a thought in his head and all of them in his pants, he walked over to you with long strides and dropped to his knees in front of you, smushing his face into your belly.

A startled noise of surprise tumbled from your lips and your hands instinctively went to rest on the back of his head.

"What're you doing, hm? We have a reservation to get to." You reminded him.

He just exhaled into your flesh and pressed his face deeper into your stomach.

"So weich.. und gemütlich..." it was a muffled sound followed by a long sigh.

You chuckled, carefully running your fingers through his hair so you wouldn't mess it up. You were sure he put a lot of effort into it.

"As adorable as this is, we do have to leave." You spoke softly, gently tugging his face from your tummy.

König let out a displeased grumbled but obliged, pressing a kiss to your clothed belly before rising back to his full height.

"You are breathtaking, maus." He said quietly, resting his forehead against yours.

A smile stretched over your lips.

"And you," you began with a low tone, "look very distinguished. Let's not waste all of that."

You pulled him into a soft kiss and König melted into the touch of your lips, gently holding your hips.

His face was smooth in your hands, a sign he'd shaved and finally used that moisturizer you'd gotten him.

You hummed fondly into the kiss but pulled away, hoping to preserve your lipstick.

"Do we really have to go, liebling?" He sighed, downtrodden.

You caressed his cheek and smiled gently.

"If we go now and I get to show off my new dress tonight," you leaned in, stretching up high on your toes, your breath hot against his ear, "I'll let you take it off of me afterwards."

You grinned wickedly, your feet flat on the ground again, when you heard a breath getting caught in his throat. He blinked at you before swiftly grabbing your hand.

"Let's go." He dragged you towards the door and you had barely enough time to grab your shoes.

"Why in such a rush?" You teased with a smirk.

König came to a stop and turned around to look at you, his hand gently cupping your chin.

"We have a reservation to get to, don't we, mäuschen?"

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

He's such a sweetheart, I just know he is 🥺

I hope you enjoyed ✨️😚

More of König and others -> 💫

Fi's Dictionary 📜

"Liebling" - "Darling" (u all know this one by now)

"Alter Schwede.." - "gawd dayum" (literal translation would be "old Swede".....languages r weird.)

"So weich.. und gemütlich..." - "So soft.. and cozy..." (no explanation needed.)

"Maus" - "Mouse" (used as a term of endearment)

"Mäuschen" - "Little Mouse" (used as a term of endearment)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

[crimsonbubble]

Shadows Behind Metal

cw. nsfw, afab human!reader, wolf hybrid!minjoong, threesome, poly relationship, handcuffs, muzzles, biting, pet play (nicknames), costumes (bunny ears), masturbation, voyeurism, degradation, praise, oral, cum eating, implied cum play, overstimulation, double penetration, creampies, breeding kink, nipple play, tummy bulge, implied size kink, fingering *not proofread, just pure horny

[THIS IS ONE OF MY FAV FIC IDEA YET] HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH AND KINKTOBER FOLKS 🧡🖤

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk41 @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou @everyonewooeverywhere @hongjoongtime117 @nopension

kinktober 2024 masterlist

They were starting to second-guess their agreement with your little idea, but they just adored the sparkle in your eyes and the little bounce in your step when you scampered off to get the items you needed.

They both grumbled and growled from behind the bars of the muzzles strapped to their faces. Mingi swallowed thickly, his eyes pleading as they roamed your figure. The pristine white bunny ear sat atop your head, one folded over as you tilted your head in faux innocence. You sat in your love seat, one leg crossed over the other, as you happily drank in the needy and yearning expressions on their faces.

“You’re having too much fun with this, cottontail.” Though Hongjoong has an unreadable expression painted on his face, his breathing is shaky and laboured. He’s swallowing a lot more than usual, trying to contain the amount of saliva that threatens to leak out of him as he all but smells your arousal. His dick is straining in his jeans, leaking in his boxers as he tries not to rut his hips for any bit of friction, unlike Mingi, who is having an increasingly hard time containing himself.

“It’s kind of fun seeing you two like this though,” Hongjoong grunted at your words. His ears twitched against his hair, his tail tucked under him to hide how it wanted to thump against the floor. Mingi’s tail, on the other hand, is moving a mile a minute, too lost in your scent to realize how hard his tail is thumping against the floor. Hongjoong drops his head with a groan, closing his eyes momentarily and praying that he doesn’t cum from just being played with like this.

Mingi shifts on his knees, the cold tiles offering little to no comfort. You cooed quietly as you watched them shift and rut into the air uselessly. You uncrossed your legs with a short whistle, laughing at how both of their heads snapped back to you. With the frilly skirt bunched up around your hips, they both got an eye full of your slicked cunt, all pretty and dripping just for them.

You gently trailed two fingers between your thighs, lewdly spreading your pussy open. Hongjoong let out a deep groan, his lips now swollen from how hard he had been biting at them. You leaned your head back, gingerly circling your fingers over your clit. You let out a soft string of moans, losing yourself in the feeling. You guide your hands lower, rubbing two fingers over your aching hole.

There’s a small snap before you hear a clank, and then you feel hands all over you. Your eyes shot open, widening in sheer arousal and a hint of fear. You notice the broken cuffs on the floor and the damned muzzles haphazardly thrown off to the side as you were manhandled on the couch. You peered up as Mingi’s hand tangled itself in your hair. Your eyes widened even more as his cock rubbed against your cheek. “You see what you did to me, princess? Now you’ll be the one to take care of it. Open your mouth.”

Mingi groaned as he laid his tip against your warm tongue. Letting you swirl the wet muscle across his leaking tip. Hongjoong grabbed your hips, greedily ripping the skirt right off of you. A deep growl resonated in his chest as he pushed your head down onto Mingi’s cock, enjoying the way you gagged and drooled around him. “Make a mess out of our pretty bunny, yeah?” Mingi hummed, fucking your mouth. Hongjoong tapped your drooling pussy with his cock, letting his tip breach your hole briefly before pulling out and grinding his length through your folds.

His tip bumped against your sensitive clit, making you jolt. “Such a needy little cunt, just waiting to be stuffed full of cock and cum, huh cotton?” Hongjoong listened intently as you choked around Mingi’s cock, taking your wrists and using them as leverage to drag your heated body onto his pulsing cock. “You wanted cock, I’ll fucking give it to you.” You whimpered around Mingi’s cock, looking up at him with glassy eyes. “God, you’re such a fucking slut. Crying and gagging on my fucking cock.” You moaned around his length, your pussy clenching tightly around Hongjoong. With no way to steady yourself, Mingi continuously gagged you on his cock, hitting the back of your throat with no effort.

Hongjoong’s pace was brutal, in and out with no reprieve. He bullies his thick cock into your warm cunt with heavy thrusts, moans leaving his lips in low huffs. Mingi winces when your teeth scrape along his cock, pulling out of your mouth. He wrapped a hand around himself, slapping his tip on your cheeks and lips, smearing precum all over your flushed face. “Watch the teeth.” He didn’t even give you a moment to show that you heard him, simply pushing his cock past your lips as drool spilt from the corners of your lips.

Hongjoong is shamelessly rutting into your sore cunt, nearly slipping out a few times as your pussy gushed around him. Hongjoong pins your wrists to your back, freeing up a hand to reach around you and rub your clit. The action made you jump, your body shuddering. Hongjoong bumped you through an orgasm. You couldn’t go anywhere, stuck between your boyfriends as they all but used you for your pleasure. The onslaught of pleasure made you dizzy, as if having Mingi shove his cock down your throat wasn’t already dizzying enough.

Mingi’s hips faltered as he pulled out of your mouth, pumping himself quickly. You let your tongue peek out of your mouth, looking up at him with pretty eyes. Mingi cursed, tilting your head back as he finished himself off in your mouth. You kept your eyes on him as you swallowed his load, licking your lips of the sticky mess. That’s when you finally take in the fact that Mingi was still hard, his cock throbbing and leaking against his palm. Your moans fall freely from your lips, your thighs shaking as Hongjoong harshly rubbed over your clit in time with his punishing hips.

You pushed back against him, feeling your eyes cross as he abused your sweet spot. Your body is vibrating and your mind is mush as Hongjoong sends you crashing into another orgasm. As soon as your sore cunt tightened around his cock, he let go of your wrists. Taking hold of your hips and fucking into you desperately. He’s merely chasing his release now, brushing against your sweet spot with every rut of his hips. Your upper body fell limp against the couch, peering at him over your shoulder. You can see the quick whips of his tail from behind him, watching how his eyes hardened as he watched you fuck yourself back onto him.

Hongjoong pressed hard into your back, forcing you to arch your back as he hounded after his release. His pace grows uneven, his cock pulsing. His nails dig into your hips as he buries himself to the hilt, painting your gummy walls with his seed. Hongjoong’s voice is hoarse when he tells Mingi to lie down. He flips you over, letting you fall back onto Mingi’s chest. He immediately has his hands on your hips, holding them as he easily fills your cunt. Hongjoong grabs your thighs, holding them open as he pushes in alongside Mingi.

“Such a good bunny, our good girl.” Mingi’s voice bounced around in your head as he thrust up into you. “A pretty cock whore, just for us.” You can’t stop the whines that leave your lips as Hongjoong starts moving too. The squelching of your cunt is embarrassing, almost pathetic, as you were fucked and used. Your eyes focus on Hongjoong, whimpering as you recognize the hungry look in his eyes. “Fuck, look at you. You probably wanted this from the beginning, didn’t you? To get stuffed like the cock slut you are, right?” His stare is making your pussy clench, squeezing tight around the thick cocks, splitting you open. Hongjoong groaned as his eyes flickered down your chest, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every thrust you received.

Your eyes followed his, taking matters into your unoccupied hands. You cupped, groped, and squeezed your tits, pinching and tugging your nipples just like Mingi usually does. Hongjoong curses under his breath, his tail thumping against his hip. He quickly slapped your hands away, leaning down to latch onto your pert bud. The new angle had Mingi pressing insistently against your sweet spot, damn near kissing your cervix if he decided to go any deeper. Hongjoong grabbed one of your hands, pressing it to your lower abdomen. He pulled away from your chest, pressing a messy kiss to your puffy nipples.

He pressed down against your fingertips, his cock twitching within your silken walls. Your pussy throbbed with need as you felt over the now obvious bulge in your stomach. Hongjoong gathered your arousal on his thumb, harshly rubbing over your clit as your cunt spasmed. “Slutty bunny just needed their cunt stuffed, huh? Look at you, all docile and pretty.” Mingi groaned under you, his nails digging into your skin next to where Hongjoong’s marks were. Both of their paces quickened, growing unsteady as the need to stuff you full of their cum only increased.

Hongjoong rubbed your clit in tight circles, trying to knock you over the edge before they fell. That wish fell through as both of them buried themselves to the hilt, pressing impossibly close to your cervix as you felt warmth flood through you. Your back arches off of Mingi’s chest as you cum, feeling your heartbeat throb in your ears. Hongjoong was the first to pull out, hungrily stroking himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Mingi lifted your hips off him, feeling the cum leak out of your used cunt.

You lay limp against Mingi’s chest, smiling tiredly as he peppered kisses along your shoulder and neck. However, Hongjoong has a different idea. He slips his fingers into your pulsing cunt, smirking as you jolt, reaching down to clutch his wrist. “Just one more bunny; I wanna make you cum again.”

[trulyumai]

sweet wine and messy lips

pairing: emperor geta / empress! reader

synopsis: in which geta and his wife get drunk. even clumsy and lost in a stupor, the emperor still tries to adore you in his own way.

warnings: geta talking down to people, grabbing.

a/n: im re-entering my heimdall phase (gow2) so be on the lookout for that and I apologize in advance for another hyper fixation taking me over completely

enjoy!

your hand nudged the goblet towards geta, tipping it ever so slowly to his lips until a bright maroon dusted across the pink expansion.

“try it— you’ll like it my liege I swear it!”

Geta only scoffed, his cheeks red with drunken clumsiness.

“get that away from me, wife. I’d rather drink poison than to sip on such a disgrace of wine.”

you pouted instantly, already drunk yourself, the sweet wine wafted off your figure like a cheap oil. “pretty please, husband? it’s got all the flavors you like,”

listing them off slowly, your other hand began its decent up his arm and finding passage massaging his shoulder. Geta, ever soft for your hands couldn’t help but relax in such a comforting hold.

“cherries, a hint of cinnamon—“

gods you smelled divine.

so sweet, so alluring to the man that he could sweep you off your feet right then and there.

“did I say grapes? it has honey too, just the right amount—

“wife,” the emperor shuddered. your fingernails found their way up his chest, lightly circling and smoothing their way across it as you were lost in thought, too busy naming of ingredients instead of paying attention to the now flustered lord.

“wife!” Geta interrupted, seizing your moving hand with his own ringed one.

fearing you did something wrong, your posture instantly froze; rigid and stiff.

‘calmly, you fool.’ Geta’s thoughts rang out, his grip lightened and with a feathery touch made its way to the jawline just in front of him.

clenched and tightened with stressful thinking.

“I… apologize, little wife,” he finally gritted out. you were so beautiful tonight. it’s as if the stars molded across your eyes and lit up the expansion of your pupils with untold dreams and conquests.

He wanted to drown in them.

“im tired, hm?”

your lip wobbled before a look of surprise took over the reddened and messy features you displayed.

“of course, my emperor! how could I be so silly?”

getting up off the man’s lap, you felt a tug upon the material of your robe.

it was light, but firm enough for you to turn your neck back around with a slow uneasiness and to the emperor once more.

he laid comfortably against the seat, sagging into it while his legs spread with enough of a widened expansion for your body to mold into.

his arm, the one that wasn’t connected to your delicate robes— sat against the ginger hairs littering his head, with his fingers pushed against the pale temple, making his upper body lean to the side.

he looked relaxed. happy, one might say.

“you will return with me, won’t you, wife?” although it sounded like a question, you knew it wasn’t.

even in your drunken state, the man’s stature—his temper is a trait you won’t easily forget.

so instead of having one more glass, like you had intentions of doing, you nodded in agreement.

it’s all geta needed to hear, or rather, see before clumsily gathering himself out of the throne.

instantly, the party goers raised, bowing their head completely before the man could demand them of it.

usually, the emperor would make a show of this. mumble on about how well trained they are, how obedient.

“their more like animals,” he would scoff, laughing vehemently while tugging you along. possessive fingers grazing your waist with the cool feeling of the rings brushing against any revealing skin.

such a touch brought you back to the present, cold and calculated against the backside of your dress.

following your husbands bounding steps, you avoided the looks that were thrown your way. it wasn’t wise to get drunk in front of so many people, you knew it wasn’t.

but geta had insisted.

“we’re winning the war, dearest.” he had all but giggled, pouring heaps of wine into your (once) empty goblet.

“I ordered it special for you, drink up before Caracalla gets to it, hm?”

you had peered into the drink with newfound interest. a little smile entered your face and pushed against your cheeks. such a sight almost made the emperor flustered—he’d blame it on the wine, most definitely.

it was indeed a light red, the color of the sweet wine you always loved to sip on. upon closer inspection, the smell made its way up and into your senses.

what was a few drinks? you had thought. And with a quick note of appreciation to your husband, the goblet had graced your lips.

who knew it would bring you here, barely holding yourself up against geta as you both made way for the chambers?

his left palm spread out easily against your back. with a firm hold he took lead, guiding you through the stone walls and to the bed that was calling his name.

his other hand braced against the rough wall to the side—just in case he needed to push against it.

“husband?” he heard you call out, with a low drawled out hum, geta responded.

“thank you for the wine.” your sweet voice spoke so low.. so softly against the muffled laughter and voices that spilled out of the throne room.

his fingers came up to the back of your neck, seizing it with a loving grip before his lips crashed upon the top of your head.

he had aimed for your cheek, but this will do.

“anything for you, lovely.” geta purred against the softened locks, already his arms snuck their way under your buttocks, groping and touching the flesh there.

the guards had to move a bit behind, just beside the corner of the wall to avoid any further groping and kissing that was being displayed.

it was turning out to be a sweet night indeed.

[auroralwriting]

hi! here’s a little fic idea or something to maybe toy around with: spencer with a blair waldorf-esque partner (maybe just a similar upbringing?? idk) but yeah, maybe like the insecurity that comes from growing up like that. or like the softness in finally opening yourself up to love where you had to make yourself cold before. idk.

fashion!

spencer reid x fem!reader

an exposing gala finally reveals your hidden wealth to your team, and to spencer

word count: 2.4k / warnings: pure fluff, negative self thoughts, spencer is a sweetie and rossi is supportive dad, no use of y/n, bombshell/rich girl reader

The luxurious life you lived was one you kept hush-hush, private, and behind closed doors for all who wanted to peek in. You knew it was obvious that you came from some money. You went to Yale and got your masters from Harvard. Sometimes, you wore more expensive clothing, like classic Louboutin heels or Dior sweaters.

You kept all of your money and lifestyle private for the simple fact that you didn't want to be treated differently at work. Your teammates, friends, were your favorite people. They were all very humble, sometimes minus Rossi, and so incredibly kind. You didn't want them to assume that Mommy and Daddy bought you this job. That you didn't deserve your position in the FBI.

However, when Rossi invited the team to an expensive gala where you knew people would recognize you, you realized you were absolutely doomed.

"I have no clue what to wear to things like these!" Penelope cried out in faux agony. You and the rest of the girls were shopping in the mall, not a fashion mall, but a regular one, for clothes to wear to the gala. "I don't dress up fancily ever!"

JJ smiled calmingly, "Pen, you'll look gorgeous in anything you wear."

Your brain began to work overtime, fashion knowledge bustling in your brain at a million miles an hour. "Pink," You said. Your voice was always on the cool side, your demeanor stoic like Hotch. You were the fun one, though, and knew how and when to let loose. You liked to think of yourself as highly mature and collected. "A blush pink, not rose. Rose will wash you out."

Penelope blinked in surprise, "Really?"

"Absolutely." You nodded in confirmation.

"Ooh," Emily clasped her hands together, "Do me!"

It took you no less than a second to reply. "Dark red, burgundy, maroon. You suit a darker feminine look." You turned to JJ, raising an eyebrow. "Have you ever considered emerald green?"

JJ paused for a moment, "No, I haven't."

"You should. It would bring out your eyes." You replied with the smallest hint of a smile.

"How do you know all this?" Penelope asked, highly intrigued. "Are you some fashion goddess?"

You felt yourself fully smile, a small chuckle escaping your lips. "I've just always been really good with color-analysis, I guess." It wasn't a lie, color analysis went into profiling, and it came with growing up rich as fu-

"What are you going to wear?" Emily curiously asked, setting her hand in her head.

"I have a few ideas." You nonchalantly replied. "I think I have some dresses at home that will work."

Leading up to the gala, you found yourself feeling anxious anytime someone brought it up, which was all the time. Yes, you knew it was excitement, but it made you nervous to rationalize whether your friends would hate your or not after this. You tried to play it cool, nodding along to the conversations, but one comment really bothered you.

"God, I cannot wait to eye all those rich girls," Derek dreamily sighed, thinking about how much flirting he was going to participate in. "I hear the aristocrat-girls know how to push your buttons."

You knew Derek didn't mean it to be insulting, he was just joking, but it caused you feel a pang in your heart.

As the others continued to talk, you felt eyes boring holes into your body. It was Spencer, probably your closest friend on the team, and the guy you were hopelessly in love with. You'd never admitted it to anyone, the fear of rejection buried deep in your bones. You didn't want to lose him as a friend above anything else.

"Hey," Spencer softly whispered, taking in the look that had settled on your face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Spence." You nodded, allowing yourself to give him a sweet smile, the one that he knew was reserved for him and him only.

Spencer gave you a suspicious look. "You know Derek didn't mean it like that," He offered, reaching out to squeeze your arm.

"I know," you nodded. "Really, Spence. I'm okay."

The loss of your usual glimmer in your eyes had vanished before Spencer's eyes. He knew you better than that. Something was definitely up.

Even if he was your best friend, he found it hard to gather a good read on you sometimes. No one had ever been to your apartment, knew where you lived, met any of your family, absolutely nothing personal. You went to everyone else's places, met their families, it made Spencer's brain wrap around itself trying to figure you out. You were so open with him, yet so closed off at the same time. It was like you were hiding some deep, dark secret that you didn't want to hurt him. Nonetheless, he trusted your judgement, never prying too hard. He was too in love with you to even consider hurting you.

The night of the gala finally approached. You sat in front of your vanity, finishing up your hair and makeup. Reluctantly, you gave Rossi your address to come get you. He had hired out a limo to take the team to the gala.

As you walked outside, the cool chill of the air was a huge contrast to the heat inside, reminding you of how brutal Virginia autumn's could be. As you opened the door, you let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was just Rossi.

"I had a feeling you didn't want anyone to know where you lived," He remarked, a knowing look on his face. "From one to another, I know when someone has expensive taste. You, my dear, struck me as an aristocrat from day one."

"Does anyone else know?" You asked softly, biting your lip.

Rossi let out a huff of air, "Of course not. But you should tell them, preferably tonight."

"What if they think differently of me?" Your voice felt small, and you noticed the way Rossi looked at you with comfort. It was obvious that this was an unusual way to see you, but deep down, you were a sensitive, caring soul who played the part of the cold, badass agent too well.

"I can assure you, they won't." Rossi squeezed your hand for a moment, allowing you to buckle yourself in.

One by one, the team began arriving. They all looked amazing, of course, but the one that stuck out to you was Spencer in his classic black and white tux. Of course, his eyes couldn’t leave you, either. Mentally, you made a note of this eye-checking out, or eye-fucking, as Derek so gracefully called it.

Penelope was the last to arrive, and she gasped when she saw you. “That’s Prada!” She pointed, her mouth agape.

“My mom gifted it to me on my twenty-first birthday,” You explained, feeling relief when the team played it off as a very generous gift.

The gala was gorgeous, white, gold, and black filling your eyes. Of course, you’d definitely seen better, but it was your first gala in a few years. It was refreshing to see. The team, on the other hand, looked amazed at it all.

“This is the most amazingly spectacular thing I’ll ever witness in my life.” Penelope gaped.

“It really is gorgeous,” JJ nodded in agreement.

Even Hotch was staring wide eyed at the hall. “Hey,” Derek asked. “Why do you not look at all surprised or even any other feeling besides neutral at this? That cold?” Derek teased, unknowing of your true feelings.

Before you could answer, you heard a gasp from behind you. Your name was emphasized. You turned around to see a woman, her early forties, and the worst fucking haircut— Maggie Lowdry.

“My dear! It’s been far too long since you’ve been to a gala. Had us all worried sick you’d vanished, or far worse.” Maggie gave you an elegant hug that you reciprocated.

“I’ve been very busy with work,” You replied with a wide smile. “Maggie, this is my team. My team also includes Agent David Rossi.”

Maggie went wide eyed, “David Rossi! What are the odds Miss Heiress and my favorite author know each other, let alone are co-workers!”

You cringed at her words, sucking in a breath. Rossi chuckled, responding for you. “Not that low, for the area. Please, let me grab you a refreshment.”

Rossi gave you a knowing look, guiding Maggie away. Closing your eyes, you slowly turned around. “Look-”

“You’re rich?” Emily asked, interrupting you.

“Yes, but-”

“For how long?” Derek interjected.

“My whole life, I guess. It’s-”

“What do your parents do?” JJ inquired.

“They both own their own finance companies. This isn’t-”

Spencer’s words cut the deepest, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Covering your mouth, you shook your head, refusing to let tears well to the surface. The look on your face surprised the team. They hadn’t expected you to be so touchy about this.

“I’m sorry, I need air.” You quickly walked away and back outside to catch your breath.

“She’s sensitive,” Hotch began to profile you meticulously. “She puts on a cold front to trick us into thinking she’s someone completely different. In reality, we know she isn’t cold from how often she jokes or laughs and smiles. We know she’s hiding something, maybe a bad past. If we looked closer, we would have realized that this is why she never let us come over, or hardly went shopping with the girls.” Hotch paused for a moment, “She’s scared we’ll treat her differently.”

Emily frowns at his words, "We would never treat her differently because of her background."

"Or because she's rich," JJ added.

Hotch shook his head, "We're all lower-to-middle class. Maybe she thought we would resent her, or potentially believe we assume her parents bought her everything."

"A common stereotype for children of aristocrats is imposter syndrome," Spencer began. "Is that what.. is.."

"Reid, maybe you should go check on her." Derek insisted. "You're her favorite, anyway."

Biting his tongue at Derek's words, Spencer silently agreed as he followed in your previous footsteps. When he exited the building, he saw you sitting on the stone steps, staring into the city.

Spencer softly spoke your name, causing you to look up at him. No matter how hard you tried, Spencer noticed the redness in your eyes. "Can I sit?" Spencer softly asked, gesturing beside you. When you didn't respond, Spencer took that as an opening. He slowly sat next to you, his eyes never once leaving you. "We aren't mad at you."

"Do you think any differently of me?" Your voice was softer than Spencer ever thought he'd heard it before. You'd been with the buero for eight months, twenty six days, and thirteen hours. Even if he knew you well enough, he knew you'd done a damn good job of keeping your own secret.

"Yes," Spencer honestly answered, causing you to look at him wide-eyed as he continued. "I think you're much more sensitive and sweet than you let on to be. Sometimes, we could see the real you if we looked hard enough." You felt your heart beat die down at his words. "I think you're scared that we won't like you anymore because, what, you're rich?"

Your brows furrowed, "Is that not it?"

"Of course not," Spencer chuckled, grabbing your soft, manicured hands. "It doesn't matter if you're the President or anything less than,"

"I thought you guys would hate me," You chuckled at yourself, taking in Spencer's words. You'd been silly this whole time.

Spencer gave you a sympathetic look, "How could we ever hate you?" His thumbs rubbed the top of your hands, just in front of your knuckles. "Plus, I think we all already thought you came from a little money, that or you had incredible debt."

You laughed at his words, causing Spencer to smile brightly. "Maybe some things gave it away."

"Maybe," Spencer warmly agreed, the smile on your face making his heart soar. "Honestly, I know I only feel much better about you,"

"Yeah?" You breathed out.

"Yeah," Spencer confirmed with a nod. "I feel like I'm really starting to understand you. I really think I'm gonna love this you." He paused, taking a deep, supporting breath in. "But, I already do, so maybe that means it'll only get stronger."

Your breath hitched in your throat as your lips slightly parted in surprise. "You- You love me?"

Spencer awkwardly smiled, "Yeah, I love you."

"I love you, too." You admitted, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "I have since, like, they day I met you."

"I fell in love with you two months and three days after I met you." Spencer replied. He took note of your confused face and decided to help clear up what he meant. "Remember that case where you nearly got set on fire to grab one of the Hutchenson kids from their house fire?"

The memory came back to you in an instant, "That's when you fell in love with me? When I was coughing and covered in ash?"

"When you risked your life to save a child, even after the fact sending her to the first ambulance that arrived despite the fact that you couldn't breathe." Spencer corrected as you shook your head.

"I cannot believe that's when you fell in love with me." You admitted with a small laugh.

Spencer gave you his dorky half-smile, "If it helps, I'm falling in love with you all over again right now." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ears, "So you get a do-over."

After a moment of the two of you just simply existing together, relishing in the presence of your love, you decided it was time to go back inside. "We need to go back inside soon. Or, I do. My presence is expected."

"Of course, I can't hog you all to myself, can I?" Spencer teased as he helped you stand up.

"You can have me all to yourself anytime there isn't a gala," Spencer's cheeks grew red at your words as you internally cheered. "Plus, now I have a boyfriend to introduce?"

Spencer nodded quickly, "Yes, you do."

"Good," You smiled, slowly turning around to walk back inside. "I hope you know how to dance too, by the way. The waltz is common at these types of galas."

"Wait, what? No, no, I can't dance- hey, wait up!"

[connorsui]

|| Holding You Close, My Secret Comfort

- Sukuna x fem! Reader

Synopsis: On a cold, quiet night, the reader seeks warmth from Sukuna, who outwardly protests but inwardly relishes their closeness. As the reader drifts to sleep in his arms, Sukuna takes the opportunity to admire them, revealing a softer side that he keeps hidden.

Genre/ warnings: Romance, Fluff, Light Humor, no warnings just sukuna being mean

Note: in the recent events of this manz death I needed comfort

The room was bathed in a soft, warm glow, the light from the nearby lamp flickering gently against the walls. Sukuna’s maroon satin robe rippled as he moved, his every action deliberate and calculated. You watched him, eyes tracing the lines of his powerful form, and couldn’t help but feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

He was getting ready for bed, the day’s weariness beginning to settle into his bones, but you weren’t quite ready to give up your moment with him.

“Can I stay close tonight?” Your voice was quiet, almost tentative, as if afraid he would deny you.

Sukuna paused, fixing you with a stern gaze. “No.”

His response was blunt, but you were undeterred. A small pout formed on your lips as you tried again, more playfully this time. “But it’s so cold… and I’ll keep my hands to myself, promise.”

He sighed, the sound deep and resonant, as if your request had some great inconvenience. “Get another blanket if you’re that cold,” he suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance.

But instead of heeding his advice, you slid closer to him on the bed, your arms wrapping around his torso in a gentle embrace. Your head found its place on his chest, where the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart was a comforting presence. “This is warmer,” you murmured, eyes closing as you snuggled deeper into his warmth.

Sukuna grumbled, his tone laced with mock exasperation. “You’re like a leech. Can’t you find something else to cling to?”

Your smile widened against his chest, your breath warm against his skin. “Nope. You’re all I want to hold.”

His silence spoke volumes. Sukuna could have easily shoved you away; could have insisted you sleep elsewhere, but he didn’t. Instead, his large hands came to rest at your waist, his grip firm yet oddly comforting. He held you close, even as his words remained gruff and distant.

“Don’t expect me to make this a habit,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, trying to maintain the facade of indifference.

You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing full well he was bluffing. “I won’t… I love you,” you replied, a playful lilt in your voice. But both of you knew it was a lie.

He didn’t respond, instead choosing to stare up at the ceiling, his mind a jumble of thoughts he couldn’t quite articulate. He felt your breathing begin to slow, your body relaxing completely against his as you started to drift off to sleep.

Sukuna’s hands, once so rough and calloused, began to move in slow, soothing circles on your back. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as if he were afraid of waking you. The moments stretched into minutes, and he waited patiently for the even rise and fall of your chest that signaled you were deep in slumber.

When he was certain you were asleep, Sukuna finally allowed himself to relax. His usual scowl softened, and he tilted his head down to look at you, taking in every detail of your face. The way your lashes rested against your cheeks, the soft parting of your lips as you breathed, the way you seemed so at peace in his arms—he found himself entranced by it all.

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he gazed at you. In these quiet moments, when the world was still and it was just the two of you, Sukuna let his guard down. He wouldn’t dare show it while you were awake, but here, now, he could afford to be vulnerable.

His thumb brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his movements gentle and deliberate. You were beautiful to him, even more so when you were so blissfully unaware of his watchful eyes. The fierce, unyielding King of Curses felt something foreign stir within him—a warmth that had nothing to do with your shared body heat and everything to do with the strange affection he harbored for you.

As he continued to watch you, Sukuna couldn’t help but marvel at how easily you had wormed your way into his heart, despite his best efforts to keep you at arm’s length. The thought of you brought him an inexplicable comfort, a peace he hadn’t known in centuries. And though he would never admit it, he cherished these quiet moments with you more than he cared to admit.

Finally, as the night wore on and the room grew darker, Sukuna pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips barely grazing your skin. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice so low it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.

The words were filled with an affection he rarely showed, a rare glimpse into the depths of his true feelings. For a moment longer, he watched you, memorizing the way you looked in his arms, before he finally allowed himself to close his eyes.

With you in his arms, the world felt a little less harsh, a little less lonely. And as he drifted off to sleep, a small smile still playing on his lips, Sukuna silently vowed to keep this feeling safe, even if it meant pretending to be annoyed every time you asked to stay close. Because, in truth, there was nowhere else he would rather you be.

His death is making me wish for comfort