#i take a glance Once just quickly n this place is a MESS

[nastybuckybarnes]

Clumsy Corporals

Pairing: Ghost x Reader

Summary: Someone takes a tumble in Ghost's bathroom, leaving him to clean up the mess.

Warnings: Angst, attempted assault, language, violence, injuries, fluff, murder(?), Nudity,

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: fun fact - this is the first instalment for Ghost and Mouse that I ever wrote, and everything else kinda fell into place around this which I think is beautiful

A/n2: Posting this cause I feel like I just wanna escape reality a lot now and maybe some of you do too.

~*~

"Johnny told me you didn't join 'em for dinner again," Ghost says after closing the door to his quarters.

He can hear the shower running and shakes his head, following the sound and pushing open the ajar door.

"How are they supposed to warm up to you if..." the words die on his tongue almost comically as he takes in the scene before him.

You're curled up in a ball on the bathroom counter, bloodied hands clutching a towel tightly around what appears to be your naked body.

On the ground is Corporal Jacobs, a knife through the underside of his chin and a pool of blood around his head.

His lifeless eyes are open, and your eyes are focused on his body as if waiting for him to get up, to move, to attack.

Ghost surveys the scene quickly, taking in the marks around your neck, the blood on your hairline, and the cut on your cheek.

"What happened?"

He doesn't need to ask, but he does anyway.

Your bottom lip quivers, and for a moment he's not sure if you even heard him. You don't flinch, your breathing doesn't change, and you don't lift your eyes from the corpse on the ground.

"Mouse. Eyes on me."

Your gaze finally snaps to his and you suck in a sharp breath as if realizing his presence for the first time.

He inspects your face once more, swallowing his rage when he sees the bruise blooming by your eye.

"What happened here?" He nods to the body on the ground.

You follow his gaze and he watches intently as your fists tighten and you swallow hard. Your lip quivers so fast it nearly vibrates, but you take a deep breath and eventually speak.

"He fell."

He thinks he's misheard you at first, glancing between the dead man and you.

He kneels down and grabs hold of the hilt of the knife stuck under the man's chin. A knife that Ghost distinctly remembers you taking from him a long while ago.

"He fell?" He asks, tilting the dead man's head to the side and grinding his teeth together at the claw marks on the side of his face.

You put up quite the fight. He'd be proud if he wasn't so filled with fury.

You slowly lift your eyes to his and his stone heart cracks a bit at the unshed tears he sees.

"Yes," you whisper.

He watches you for a breath longer then nods slowly, looking back down to the mess on the bathroom floor.

"Looks like he took quite the tumble, hmm? Silly prick, s'what you get for running with knives."

A weight lifts slightly off of your shoulders and you nod, wiping a tear off of your cheek with a bloody hand, leaving a mess in your wake.

"Now, did he fall before or after your shower?"

You swallow hard before answering, shaking your head as if trying to get rid of the memory of what happened.

"Before." Your voice is so quiet, quieter than usual, and he finds himself straining to hear you.

He pieces together all that he can with what's before him, and quickly comes up with a plan.

"It's late, little one. How's about you finish your shower, and-"

"No!"

He's taken aback by the force of your words, the ferocity of them. The terror in your eyes is twice as surprising.

"No shower?" He clarifies, glancing at the running water, no doubt cold by now.

You shake your head, confirming his words, and he nods his understanding.

Slowly, he stands up and turns the water off, then takes a step toward you.

"New plan. You sit right here, and I stay with you. I'll call Price and Johnny to come clean this up. How's that sound?" He asks, his eyes locked on yours.

You think about it for a long moment then slowly nod, leaning into his hand when he pushes some of your hair back.

A soft sigh leaves his lips and he leans forward, placing a soft kiss to your hairline before stepping back to send a quick generic text to the two men he trusts most.

Pipe burst in my quarters. Get here now.

It takes a minute and a half for Price to get there, two minutes for Soap.

"I'm gonna go meet them at the door, Mouse, but I won't be out of eyeshot, okay? Keep your eyes on me the whole time. That's an order."

You nod carefully, your eyes never leaving his as he takes calculated steps backward out of the bathroom to meet the other men at the door.

"What's going on, Lt?" Soap's gruff voice asks quietly.

The huge man takes a slow step back, allowing the two into his room.

Each man does a sweep of the room, their eyes finally landing on the bathroom and the bloody scene within.

"Fuckin' hell," Soap murmurs, rubbing his jaw.

"What happened?" Price asks quietly, looking at you skeptically.

Your eyes, however, are still locked onto Ghost's.

Ghost gives you a gentle nod then glances over at his teammates, his friends.

"He fell."

"What the bloody hell was he doin' in 'ere in the first place?" Soap asks, slowly walking toward the bathroom to inspect.

His eyes take you in, take in the blood on your hands, the bruising wrapping like a necklace around your neck.

"I think I have an idea," is Ghost's grunted reply.

Your eyes are on the Scot as he steps into the bathroom. Your breath hitches and you scoot back on the counter the tiniest bit.

"Easy, Mouse. Johnny's just gonna help clean up. You can trust him, remember?"

Soap looks up at you and gives you a gentle smile, his own anger rising when he sees more of the damage on your soft face.

"You've saved my arse. More than once, I imagine. S'only fair I help clean up after the poor man's fall," he says gently.

You watch him for a long while then slowly nod, sniffling then wiping your face against your arm, only to hiss at the unexpected pain.

"Why don't you let the Lieutenant get you patched up, sweetheart, hmm? Let Soap and I deal with this?" Price offers, stepping into the doorway.

You look between the three of them then nod again, watching in awe as they move like a well-oiled machine.

Soap takes a step further into the bathroom and Price steps out of it, making way for Ghost to walk in and carefully scoop you up in his arms.

He carries you from the bathroom and sits you down on his desk, turning his back for just long enough to grab a first aid kit.

Price and Soap immediately get to work in the bathroom as Ghost gets to work tending to your -visible- wounds.

He starts with your face, spraying a gentle antiseptic onto the cut on your cheek.

Your eyes stay focused on his as he works, and every now and then he meets your gaze.

The bathroom door opens but you don't look away from Ghost as Price and Soap shuffle by.

Ghost, however, takes a pause and shoots a glance over his shoulder.

"Dump 'im outside. I'll do the rest."

They don't question him.

The only thing allowing him to keep a level head right now is the promise of chopping that pathetic piece of shit's body up into a thousand unrecognizable pieces and feeding him to the stray dogs in the city.

But he needs to make sure you're taken care of, first.

"When we're done here, Johnny will get you a snack while I take care of... our friend. Okay?" Though it's posed like a question, you know he's telling you what's happening and leaving little room to argue.

The door shuts with a soft click, leaving the two of you alone.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He asks, scooting back to inspect you as much as he can.

You swallow hard and glance down, shrugging.

"I know you don't want to, but I think you should shower. I'll be right outside the door, won't let anyone in. I swear."

You look at him with wide eyes and shake your head.

"Come with me?" You finally ask, looking toward the bathroom as if it's where nightmares spawn.

For you, it is.

His brows draw together.

"You want me to sit in there with you?"

You shake your head again.

"In the water... please?"

Realization dawns on him and he's not too sure how to feel.

"You want me to shower with you?"

You nod, dainty fingers sliding over his wrist almost absentmindedly.

He doesn't have the heart to refuse you. To tell you that the shower is hardly big enough to fit him comfortably, let alone the both of you.

Instead, he just nods and helps you to your feet.

He's gentle with you, alarmingly so, as he helps you into the -now clean- bathroom, locking the door and turning the shower on.

You lean against the counter, towel held tightly around your body as he undresses swiftly.

When he's naked, he reaches a hand out to you and waits patiently for you to drop your towel, then steadies you as you step into the shower.

You barely made it this far before Corporal Jacobs-

Your thoughts are cut off by Simon stepping into the shower behind you, big warm hand holding your hip gently.

His chest presses against your back, the tiny shower even tinier now that it accommodates two.

"You okay, pretty mouse?" He asks, arms winding around your waist.

You shrug, leaning into him for a moment before slowly turning around to look up at him.

His eyes find yours, reading you, hearing the words you don't have the strength to say out loud, and then he's pressing his forehead against yours.

"You did good, little one. M'proud of you. Next time let me kill him, though. Poor bastard got off too easy, thinkin' he can go around n' touch what's mine. 'sides, don't need any blood on your pretty hands."

Your lip quivers and you tug your head away to lean it against his chest.

"Was scared," you whisper after a moment.

"Yeah, I bet."

"Of you," you add after a moment, not lifting your head even when you feel him stiffen.

"Why?" He finally asks, the fingers of his right hand trailing up and down your spine.

"Thought you... would not listen. Would think it was me."

His hand snakes up your back to grab your hair, tugging your head back gently and forcing you to look up at him.

His face is bare for your viewing pleasure, the steam the only thing between the two of you.

"Do you understand how much you mean to me? 've killed for you, love. 'n I'd do it again in a heartbeat, without question."

A silent tear slips down your cheek and is quickly lost in the humidity of the bathroom.

No more words are spoken for the rest of the shower.

He helps you gently wash your hair and your body, taking note of every scratch and bruise that wasn't there when he left you this morning.

Every new mark on your soft supple skin is another piece he's going to be cutting Jacob's body into, and he cannot wait.

But he needs to take care of his Mouse first.

When your fingers start to prune and the water is running a little cold, Simon helps you out of the shower and wraps a towel around you tightly.

He ushers you out of the bathroom, sitting you on the bed while he dries himself and tugs on some clothes.

After that, his focus is entirely on you. He dries you off gently, his eyes focused on yours the entire time, and you can't help but melt into his touch.

He helps you into one of his shirts then slides a pair of socks onto your feet.

"Do you want some water?" He asks quietly, his warm hands on your bare knees.

You shake your head, reaching forward and sliding your fingers over his thick shoulders.

"Want you. Stay."

He obeys, climbing into bed with you.

You curl up against him, nuzzling your head under his chin and taking deep comforting breaths of his scent.

He holds you against him until you fall asleep, moving only when his phone vibrates from its spot on the ground beside the bed.

Reaching for it slowly, careful not to move you too much, he scoops it up off the ground and reads the message quickly.

He sets his phone down and gingerly rolls you out of his arms, tucking you in tightly and then silently getting dressed.

He shoots you one last look once he's all dressed and ready, then slips out the door, shutting it tightly behind himself.

Soap stands outside the door, silently nodding to his Lieutenant, then turning his back to the door - keeping guard.

No words are spoken as the skull-faced man heads out to the coordinates on his phone. No questions are asked when he returns hours later with his sweater and gloves discarded and the faint smell of fire in his hair.

And when you wake up and start asking questions, he's sure to kiss them away and reassure you that you're safe. That Corporal Jacobs will never lift a finger to harm you again.

How can he? All ten are chopped off and sprinkled in different parts of the city.

Let that be a lesson to the next idiot who tries to harm his sweet little Mouse.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When they call you clingy, so you distance yourself | Hyung Line

Warnings: Cursing

Pt2, Pt3 Maknaeline

(X)

BANGCHAN |

You walked into Chan’s studio, quietly shutting the door behind you, as to not startle him.

“Hey Chris, can we talk for a second?”

You watched as your boyfriend of a year and a half continued to type away, not acknowledging your question.

“Chris? Did you hear me?”

“Yes I heard you. I just didn't answer."

"Well, it would be nice for a little acknowledgment, I asked if we could talk." You state politely. You understood that Chan was stressed, but you believed it was basic courtesy to at least acknowledge someone - let alone your significant other - when they asked you a question.

"Well, I'm kind of busy at the moment."

"I understand it will only take two minutes ba-"

“Dammit Y/N! I'm busy right now can't you see?" He snaps. Turning towards you and showing you the screen of his laptop.

You open your mouth to speak and tell him just why you needed to talk to him at this very second but he interrupted you.

"When we first started dating, I get that you told me you were clingy. I also get that I told you I liked clingy. But my god, Y/N you're not just clingy you're fucking obsessive. And always at the wrong times! You want space when I actually have time. Yet you decide to stroll in here trying to start a damn conversation when you can clearly see I'm trying to play damage control from a fucking dumbass trainee thinking it was funny to mess with my tracks. I'm already stressed as fuck about that, yet I have you breathing down my neck like some obsessive stalker. Like for five minutes just leave me alone!"

You stiffened at Chan’s tone. It was very rare that Chan would ever raise his voice. He managed his frustrations very well and was aware of how sensitive you were so he was always careful about confrontation.

He turned around and had his back hunched over his laptop as he typed and clicked away furiously, unaware of the tears that were quickly springing to your eyes. You were frozen in place, your heart beating uncontrollably.

It took a minute before you were even able to take a breath.

You stood there long enough for Felix to come bursting through the door to come update Chan about something unimportant to the task at hand. The same task that he had snapped at you for interrupting.

And you think that what hurt most. The way the frown on his face was lessened when talking to the younger male and his cute chuckle even popped out once or twice.

You finally were able to pull yourself out of the studio, leaving behind the coat you had absentmindedly placed down out of habit when you had come in and opted to take your purse.

The air was brisk and had that dry smell it always gained before it snowed.

Your apartment was close to the studio, a 25-minute walk at most so you always opted to take a stroll when visiting Chan, but you were on a tight schedule so within a minute you were in a taxi heading home.

And just as quickly you were back in a taxi heading to the airport.

You knew it was petty of you to mute Chris's notifications. But the fact that he snapped at you was just the tip of the iceberg. You knew that once he calmed down, he would immediately be filled with guilt. And you would rather not have your phone being blown up by multiple people at once.

Are you headed to the airport?

You responded to your brother's message with a thumbs up and turned on your DND before the screen darkened with a click.

You glanced at your watch and sighed.

You'd be on a plane heading home in less than an hour and weren't even able to kiss Chris goodbye.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

MINHO |

"You're clingy as hell." Minho mumbled under his breath, thinking you wouldn't hear. But oh did you hear.

"Lee Minho what did you just say?"

He let out a sharp breath and looked up from his phone. "I called you clingy." He stated boldly, his voice even yet loud enough to be heard by Hyunjin and Han who quickly scurried away to the other half of the suite.

"And what about me is so clingy?"

Minho chuckled sarcastically. "Oh I don't Y/N, do you want me to recap the entire day for you?"

You had joined the kids on their trip to Paris. While they had been here numerous times, this was your first time traveling here and due to the anxiety of being in a new place, you attached yourself to Minho's hip since it was your first day here.

You didn't intend to be overbearing, nor did you intend to be up his ass for the entire week and a half long trip, but you wanted to get used to the surroundings and you felt most comfortable doing that with your boyfriend. Yesterday being your first day you spent the entirety of it with Minho. You had noticed quickly how his excitement had turned into unease and straight up irritation after a while. It was a weird phase of emotions considering how happy he had been but you had amounted it to you accidentally taking a wrong turn and missing a fireworks show Minho had been talking about all day. You had come into his room early this morning to apologize, but instead were meant by an overly irritable boyfriend.

"It's because I've never been here before! Did you expect me to not to ask you to show me around?"

"Y/N there is a difference between a tour guide and a fucking babysitter. You pulled me along to everywhere you wanted to go. I had plans yesterday! Certain things that I was hoping to do. I made an entire schedule and everything, but just because you wouldn't agree to be toured around the city by Chan you ruined all of that. Then you spent the entire day just pulling me along. If you wanted someone to give you an overly extensive run down of everything and keep you company, why don't you ask someone closer to your personality like Jisung or Jeongin? I'm sure they'd love talking of the ears of all the local with you. Shit, you'd probably become some street show you three."

You sucked in your cheeks and took a breath.

"That was uncalled for, you have no need to bring anyone else into this discussion."

Minho chuckled sarcastically.

"Discussion? What is there to discuss? The amount of time I want you to leave me alone? Hell, why not the entire fucking trip?" He spat out.

"You're an ass Minho."

"Yeah well at least I'm not a pain in someone else's."

You felt your bottom lip start to tremble and your chin shake.

Don't cry. You'll just be a crybaby.

"And here come the water works." He groans as if he read your mind, getting up from his bed and heading towards the room where the rest of the guys were probably trying to keep occupied as to not hear your arguing.

"So what? You're just gonna walk away?" You call out.

"YOU'RE PROVING MY FUCKING POINT!" He shouted, finally at his breaking point. "It was a mistake asking you to come on this trip." He said turning around one final time and opening the door to the other side of the suite. "I never should have asked."

"Well you know what, maybe this trip isn't the only thing you should have never asked about. And I'm starting to realize that maybe it's not the only thing I never should have said yes to." You spit out turning on your heel and slamming the door.

You furiously wiped at the tears that were sticking to your face and threw your hood up over your head as you headed to your room to contemplate what would become of you two now.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

CHANGBIN |

It was irritating to you the way Changbin was interacting with the female barista. And the irritation must have shown on your face because when he handed you your iced latte, he raised an eyebrow.

"Is everything okay jagiya?"

You sighed as you guys stepped out the shop and started making your way back towards the studio. Changbin had been really busy the last couple of weeks with preparing for a special release and collabing with a few other groups, so you hadn't been able to be around your boyfriend as often as you'd like. So you had agreed on meeting during his lunch every other day, even if the times varied.

"You just seemed really flirty with that barista." You mumbled. "It was obvious she was into you too. I mean who wouldn't you're the Seo Changbin." You giggled elbowing him playfully. You pulled out your phone to make sure there was enough time for you to walk Changbin back or if you would have to take an Uber. You nodded at the time and swiped away a few notifications from Minho.

You expected Changbin to laugh or reassure you like he usually did when you brought up his flirty habits. Instead he snorted into his cup as he took a sip of the dark liquid.

"Jealous much?"

You laughed a little. "Why would I be jealous? She isn't the one who has been dating you for three years." You said hip bumping him, but he stepped away from you rather brashly.

"Well it seems like you are because you have to bring up me and my so called flirting ever single time I talk to anyone of the female species."

"Bin it was just a joke-"

"Well I'm not joking when I say you're acting clingy as fuck." His tone was way off and he seemed to realize the shit he was setting himself up to be put in because he stopped mid stride and turned around to you with an agitated sigh.

"Do you...I don't know want to run that by me again?" You ask, firming your stance.

"God, Y/N, don't make this a big thing. Its just been a day-"

"No, no. You don't get to use that excuse Changbin. We're supposed to talk through these things. You don't just get to say something like that and then act like you didn't."

You guys stood at an impasse for a moment until he spoke up rolling his eyes.

"Fine. I think you're being clingy." He said simple. "Jealousy falls under clinginess and I think you're being jealous so therefore you are being clingy."

"Changbin it was a fucking joke! You've never reacted this way before so I don't know why you're acting this way now!"

Changbin just rolled his eyes and continued in the direction of the studio.

"Seo Changbin, where are you going?"

"To work Y/N. You know, maybe if you actually picked up a more stable job then you wouldn't have as much time to be up my ass and exaggerating about things that aren't things you should be butt hurt about."

You stiffened at Changbin's low blow and took a breath.

"We need to fix this before it gets out of hand." You grit out.

"Well maybe I don't want to fix this." He looked at his watch. "I'm late now so why don't you just drink your latte and go home to cool off."

The condescending voice Changbin was using sent you over the edge. You were angry to the point of tears.

You chucked your nearly full iced latte at him. It hit his chest with a thud, and the coffee made a rather pretty pattern on his pristine white shirt.

"Maybe that'll help you cool yourself off. Fuck you Changbin." You pushed past him and waved down the closest taxi.

Your phone was buzzing in your pocket and you pulled it out.

"Hey, are you and Changbin on your way back? I need to go over some choreography and we're filming tiktoks right when he gets back."

You did the best you could to keep your voice level when responding to Minho.

"He's on his way back now. But you need to get him a new shirt because being the dumbass he is he likes to make a mess of perfectly good things."

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

HYUNJIN|

You were never very happy having to attend events with Hyunjin. It wasn't that you didn't like spending time with him, or in turn spending time with the guys events.

It was just you felt insecure being the plus one of someone like Hyunjin.

It was no secret to anyone how those who knew and perceived Hwang Hyunjin's existence thought of him.

He had a beauty that rivaled any masterpiece that had ever been painted. The elegance of a tiger lily with the face of an angel.

You knew of many people who would jump at the opportunity to be with Hyunjin. For the past 11 months you had been with him you had your fair share of run ins with crazy fans or pop stars of the like.

Once your relationship had gone public a month ago you found yourself being compared to the female idols in the industry even more than you has expected.

It seemed to be the general consensus that not many people viewed you as "beautiful enough" to be with someone like Hyunjin.

You didn't take it to heart because you decided to have the outlook of nobody being beautiful enough for Hyunjin - let alone the people writing those hateful comments considering they were most likely delusional pre-teens who made the most out of pocket edits and were in desperate need of some grass groping.

But after a month it was starting to get to you slightly. Especially as you had come across one of those edits, since you had been tagged in it after someone found your personal account.

The amount of hate messages were starting to get to change your perception on things. Because the more you were hearing it the more you were seeing and believeing it.

"Jinnie do you think that my shoulders look weird in this dress?" You walked into your living room where Hyunjin was sitting. He looked up and a bright smile showed on his face.

"I think you look beautiful jagiya!" He said standing up. He looked other worldly in his tuxedo.

"And my hair?"

"Perfect." He said placing a kiss on your forehead. "We have to leave now if we want to make it on time. Or else I would look at you all night."

By the time you had been at the event for thirty minutes you already wanted to go home. You felt like the ugliest person there, and you couldn't help but feel the eyes of many people on you.

Ever couple of minutes you found yourself looking for Hyunjin's reassurance.

"Does my stomach look bloated?"

"Is my makeup fine?"

"Can you see the pimple on my chin?"

"Are my nails okay?"

"Do I look ugly?"

"Should I make my hair look like hers next time?

Hyunjin was reassuring you, but after the third or fourth questioning of the night his answers became generic.

When he was talking to an idol and his significant other you couldn't help but start comparing yourself to her. She was so pretty.

"Hyunjin should I run home and change?" You asked quietly in English. You were doing your best to learn Korean so it would be easier to communicate with Hyunjin's parents when the time came that your families were to get closer. You wanted it to be a surprise when the time came, because you knew how much Hyunjin wanted you to get along with his family, when when the time came to meet them - he wanted to get along with your family.

"You're girlfriend is pretty clingy isn't she?" The other idol asked in his native language, assuming you didn't speak korean because of your fluency in english.

"Yeah she is extremely clingy." Hyunjin replied. "Might be the clingiest girl I've ever met."

You looked at the other idols girlfriend and she made a face, and then laughed.

"You can tell she is a foreigner by the way she acts. No one is ever as clingy as foreign partners." She joked and all three of them were laughing.

Well there is the hundredth insecurity to list.

You looked at them and tried to control your facial expressions.

"We were just telling him that you are so adorable." The girl told you.

You chuckled uncomfortably and looked over at Hyunjin. He smiled and blinked cutely at you.

You smiled back as Hyunjin turned towards the couple again to continue his conversation.

And all you could do was smile back as you pretended to not understand the words Hyunjin didn’t even realize hurt you.

[flkwh0re]

Team Player

Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding

A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭

Word count: 1,568

Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.

That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.

It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.

Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.

As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.

“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.

“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.

What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.

Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.

“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, “Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”

After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”

You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.

Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.

She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.

Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”

A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.

“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.

“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.

“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.

Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.

Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.

Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.

Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.

Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.

She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.

Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.

Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.

“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.

You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.

With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”

You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.

Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.

She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.

“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.

Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.

Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.

You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.

Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.

“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.

Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.

Masterlist

[bloodrvvvsh]

I Have No Shame. | Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer joins the Mile High Club with your help.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Warnings: Handjobs, semi-public sex, they get caught (sort of?), soft sub!Spencer, soft dom!Reader, Spencer being a whimpering whining mess, facials, cum eating, established relationship, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, honey, good boy), literally so much praise, a little bit of crying from Spencer, like one (1) use of Y/N, slight dumbification, begging

Word count: 1.5K

Notes: My first Spencer fic wow!!!! It’s been so long since I’ve written an actual fic, I missed it so much. Anyways I hope you all enjoy! For this I imagined like s1-s4 Spence but could technically be interpreted as any season

Cross-posted on A03.

Spencer Reid was not a bold man.

In fact, he would go as far to say he was the total opposite. At least, in his personal life he certainly was. He never made the first move, always waiting for that perfect time that never came.

He didn’t like taking risks. Even calculated ones were too much for him sometimes. So he stayed in his little bubble of comfort and safety. He liked it there. Sure, it might make him the subject of a bit of teasing and he missed out on a few things, but at the end of the day he still liked it there.

Until he met you.

You were everything he wasn’t. Outgoing, daring, bold. In some ways, you could even be described as a bit of an adrenaline junkie. It’s actually partly what led you to joining the FBI. You liked the thrill, the high stakes, the way it got your blood pumping when you had to chase down a criminal on the loose. 

You lived for taking risks. The idea of never truly knowing what might happen made your spine tingle, every one of your hairs stand on. There wasn’t a better feeling than feeling a little sick to your stomach with nerves and excitement for you.

It's an interesting dynamic you and Spencer had - he was all for playing it safe and keeping to himself, while you could be a wildcard. Spencer learned that very quickly after you two started dating. And while it wasn’t that you were trying to change him (you would never!), you were simply opening him up to things he wouldn’t have thought twice about.

Everyone else on the jet was fast asleep. Slumped over and curled up in positions that would certainly give them a knot in their neck later. Spencer had his head laid over your lap, curls sprawled across your thighs while you mindlessly twirled the strands around your fingers. 

You were still wide awake. The rush of the case just closed still ran hot through your veins. You’d most definitely crash later once in the sanctity of your apartment, but for now you were full of energy. You tried to distract yourself by staring out the jet window, watching the world go by, but it wasn’t working.

You glanced down at the pretty boy sprawled across you like a sleeping angel and a little thought popped into your head. You shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter, before you gently threaded your fingers into Spencer’s hair. Your nails scraped across his scalp and you almost swore you could have heard a little purr rumble in his chest.

You leaned over him, breathing slowly in vain attempt to settle your already racing heart. “Spence,” you crooned softly. “Spencer, wake up, baby.” Once Spencer actually fell asleep, he was a fairly light sleeper. It didn’t take much before he was stirring awake with a quiet groan.

“What is it?” he asked, voice thick with sleep. His hands raised to rub at his eyes and you could only smile. “Did we land?”

“No,” you said a little too quickly, “No, I just..” You trailed off a little as your teeth sunk down on your bottom lip. “I had an idea.” You stood to your feet and offered your hand out to him. He quirked an eyebrow, glancing between your face and outstretched hand, before slowly placing his in your grasp.

There was a little bit of a bounce in your steps as you led him in the direction of the bathroom and in that moment, Spencer regretted agreeing to whatever you were about to do. He squeezed your hand and you tossed  him a smile that reeked of mischief over your shoulder.

It was a tight squeeze once inside. Because, like most airplane bathrooms, it was meant to only fit one person at a time. That didn’t stop a lot of people, though. And you were one of them.

You crashed your lips against his the minute the door locked behind the two of you. It was hot, full of passion and lust as your hands roamed over his body. He whimpered softly against your lips before relaxing into the kiss. His hands were warm and broad against your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You didn’t waste time when you wanted something, and you wanted him right here and now. Your hands drifted until they hit their target - his belt. You broke for air, panting heavy and hard, as you tried to make quick work of shedding the layers between you and his dick.

“Y/N-” he gasped. “Wait, wait-” He took hold of your wrists, halting your movements. His eyebrows pinched together and his bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly. “What if we get caught?”

You grinned at him. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to be quiet so we won’t.” You knew just how much of a struggle it was for Spencer to keep himself under control when he was feeling good. The noise complaints from your neighbors were proof enough. 

Your hand dipped into his pants and underwear and you tried to suppress the smirk that threatened to spread over your face when you wrapped your fingers for his half-hard cock. He gasped, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth when you shot him a look.

His eyes rolled back as you began to stroke along his length. Your thumb brushed over the tip, smearing the pre-cum gathering and Spencer’s knees buckled. Your pace was slow, almost languid, teasing.

“Please,” Spencer whined. You grinned once more.

“Please what?” you murmured. You leaned even closer to him, somehow, hovering over his lips. You were both breathing heavily and practically sharing breaths. You took a moment to look over his adorably flushed face. “You’re so pretty, Spence..”

“Please.” He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, pleasure clouding his usually bright mind. “Please, please, pl-ease.” His voice cracked when you sped up, his head lulling back. “F-feels so good, oh god.”

You cooed at the state of him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Faux pity coated your words, making Spencer whine again. “Come on, use your words, honey. I can’t read minds.” You snickered.

His hand jumped to grab your wrist, not to stop you, no. He was too far gone to stop you now. He simply held it there, keeping a tight grip on you as you jerked his cock. 

He looked like a total mess. An absolutely stunning mess, but a mess nonetheless. Curls sticking to his forehead and cheeks, plush lips parted in soft moans, eyes squeezed tight, face flushed shades of red. His hips arched into your touch, cock twitching in your hold.

“Are you gonna cum?” you asked and he nodded frantically. His lips twitched into a soft frown as tears began to well in his big brown eyes. God, he always the prettiest he was all dumb and fucked out. “Good boy,” you crooned at him.

You dropped down to your knees. You finally freed his dick from the confines of his underwear and he hissed at the feeling of the cold air. You didn’t waste a moment to resume your ministrations.

“Look at me, Spencer,” you commanded and he immediately followed the order. He nearly lost it at the sight of you on your knees before him. “Good boy, that’s it..” You picked up the pace even further, hand almost a blur stroking him.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” he stumbled over his words, unable to even form proper words as the pleasure grew. You shook your head.

“Do it, Spence,” you commanded again. “You can do it. Cum all over my face, pretty boy.” And that’s all it took for Spencer to tumble right over the edge. He tightened his grip on your wrist, back arching as he spilled over your face in thick spurts.

You worked him through his orgasm, stroking slow and gently, until he began to whine from overstimulation. You slowly rose to your feet and Spencer was already offering you paper towels to clean yourself. You ran a finger through one of the streaks of cum on your face and brought it to your lips, eyes fluttering shut and soft groans escaping you as you tasted him.

When you opened your eyes again, he was beet-red and looking oh-so shy and cute. You giggled. You gladly took the paper towels and began to wipe away the remnants of his cum.

You connected your lips in a chaste kiss when you were finished, making him blush even more. “You did such a good job, angel,” you praised before pressing another kiss to his lips. He tucked himself back into his jeans and buckled them back up. You entangled your fingers together, leading him out of the bathroom.

You made your way back to your seats, a sense of satisfaction settled in your chest. “Reid?” The call of your boyfriend’s name had you both glancing back to see Hotch awake in one of the jet chairs. “Don’t do that again”

Heat washed over both of your cheeks and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the growing smile on your lips. “Yes, sir,” Spencer said with a nod of his head.

At least you had fun.

[paxtito]

valentine

you’re so dark, babe. but i want you hard

pairings: wednesday x fem!reader

word count: 2.55k

warnings: smut, mentions of dissecting animals, strap-on referred to as cock (w receiving)

summary: enid convinces you to get wednesday a valentine’s gift so you think of something morbid, reader is a shape-shifter and a huge arachnophobe

a/n: this is my first time writing a fanfic let alone smut so do keep that in mind ;)

MASTERLIST

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

The rain creates a relaxing sound against the greenhouse’s glass as Miss Thornhill teaches. It’s so relaxing that you’re one blink away from the spectacular thing that is sleep. Your eyes feel heavy and slowly roll back every so often, it’s taking all your willpower not to fall asleep. Most of the other students are listening, and some messing about. Enid’s giggling can be heard which causes Miss Thornhill to send her a knowing glare with a raised brow. Enid, who is sitting a row down from you, quickly becomes quiet, her face turning red, almost like a beetroot.

You then avert your gaze to the girl sitting next to you, Wednesday. You can’t help but wonder how she has such good posture… with how straight she’s sitting, there’s no way on Earth her back doesn’t hurt. But, there’s no denying that you feel like you’ve got a back of an 80-year-old.

09:38

That’s what the clock reads. You groan internally, still another 22 minutes left of the lesson. At least you don’t have to write and give your poor hand a workout… right?

After spending the majority of the lesson talking about the plant that’s situated (in seed form) on every desk, Miss Thornhill finally instructs the class to plant it in their designated plant pot.

Wednesday takes the watering can before looking over at you with a deadpan expression.

You frown, too tired to even understand what she’s signalling. You stare at her blankly before speaking. “Wha-“

“-The seed.” She points out the obvious, her once deadpan expression turning into a slight glare at your laziness.

You take the seed out of the packet, placing it into the dirt but you jump, quickly pulling your hand away. “Fuck me! There’s a spider!” You push yourself away from the desk. If it wasn’t obvious by now; you’ve got arachnophobia.

Miss Thornhill’s eyes widen at the sudden commotion. She averts her gaze to you and Wednesday. You’re sat quite a distance away from your desk whereas Wednesday just rolls her eyes, returning to the task.

“Y/N, please. Be more mindful of your language.” Miss Thornhill affirmed, causing a few students to turn their heads. Her tone is stern but soft at the same time, giving her that nurturing presence.

“I’m sorry, miss- but I almost just died.” You protested an expression of disbelief painted on your face. Still shaken by the whole thing. It’s hairy legs… ugh. You close your eyes with a frown, shivering as you recall what you’d just witnessed. Your response elicits a few muffled chuckles from your classmates.

Miss Thornhill just sighs in response, crossing her arms and looking at you with a sympathetic expression. “If I hear any more of that language coming out of your mouth; you’ll get detention.” You let out a small sigh at her words, slumping down into your chair out of defeat.

Wednesday glances at you from the corner of her eye, an amused yet displeased look. “Remind me, why do I entertain you with my company?” She mutters, not at all amused by your little show with the spider.

You let out a small huff at her words, crossing your arms and moving closer to the table. “Where did it go?” You ask, warily looking over at the plant pot.

“I threw it across the classroom,” Wednesday replied nonchalantly. Placing the watering can back down once she’d finished.

Your eyebrows raise, looking over at her with a heartfelt pout. “Aww, thank you, Wends!” You jokingly put a hand over your heart, showcasing your ‘appreciation’ of such affection.

“I didn’t do it for you. It was merely a distraction to me. Don’t flatter yourself.” She responds, looking over at you with a glare. Her back is still as straight as ever and her arms are crossed. Deep down both you and her know she did it for you.

The bell soon rings, signalling the end of the lesson. You stand up, tucking in your chair before picking up your bag. Wednesday’s already gone, it’s as if she just vanishes into thin air the moment the bell rings. Not once have you seen her leave the classroom.

Enid quickly catches up to you, both her hands resting on her backpack’s straps. She smiles brightly, it’s sickening how happy she always is.

“So… Have you got Wednesday anything for good ole Valentine’s Day? You do know that’s tomorrow?” She proclaimed, her eyes wide with anticipation as she strides beside you in the hallway.

You let out a small sigh, rolling your eyes. “You know how she feels about that day. She ‘doesn’t see the point in such a frivolous and commercialised holiday.’” You mimic, making a bad impression of her.

Enid pouts, looking at you with puppy eyes. It’s irritating how nosy and obsessed she is with you and Wednesday’s relationship. It’s as though she doesn’t know what privacy is or what boundaries are.

“Come ooonnn, Y/N! Get her something!” She presses, it’s obvious you’re not going to win this. You clench your jaw, looking over at her before sighing. You hesitate before nodding. Enid swirls in response, jumping up and down ever so slightly which elicits a few glares from the other students in the hallway. She ends up bumping into a student, she’s too distracted apologising so you take this as a chance to slip away.

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

21:53

That’s what your phone read. Throughout the day you’d been thinking about the perfect gift for Wednesday. You’re lying on your back in bed. Yoko, your roommate, is down in the shower block, you’re alone. Your eyebrows suddenly raise, eyes widening.

Dissecting!! Dissection..? whatever.

You should catch an animal that she can… cut open? Whatever it is she does. You smile to yourself, fist-bumping the air at your spectacular idea. You take out your phone, searching up ‘popular dissecting animals.’

• frogs

• fetal pigs

• cats

You frown at the results… Not gonna kill a poor cat, where in the hell would you even get a frog and fetal pig?? You scroll down more, your eyes land on the perfect animal: a rat.

They’re everywhere, you’re also pretty sure that the school’s waste area is full of them. Easy target. You prepare for your rendezvous. Finding a carrier bag to put the rat in.

Shape-shifting into a bird of prey was your best bet at catching a rat. Especially with the limited time you had. You hate shape-shifting, your body always felt all yucky and tingly afterwards. But, as cheesy as it sounds; she’s worth it.

As soon as you sneak out of the building, the cool air hits you. It’s a clear sky, giving you a perfect view of the stars. The moonlight creates a relaxing and dark atmosphere. You walk to where the bins are. The autumn leaves crunch under your feet with each step. You place the carrier bag on the floor, making sure you’ll be able to put the rat in once you’re a bird.

You shapeshift into a hawk, perching yourself on a roof that gives you a perfect spot to spy on the area. Using the exceptional eyesight of the bird, you spot a rat. You keep your eyes locked on it, waiting for the perfect moment.

Spotting the perfect moment, you swoop down, you extend the bird’s leg, capturing the rat with your claws. You fly over to where the bag is situated, dropping the rat into it. You shape shift back into your human form, looking at the live rat. Wednesday would probably prefer it to be alive- at least that’s what you think.

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

05:00

Your alarm went off painfully early. Wednesday was always up early in the cafeteria. You saw this as a chance to give her the ‘gift.’ It may not be conventional but she’ll like it… right? In her own way.

You soon get dressed, dragging yourself out of your dorm and to the cafeteria. The plastic carrier bag in your left-hand carries the rat. It’s not moving, might be asleep or might be dead. You don’t know.

Wednesday is already there, she’s the only person besides the dinner crew there. She’s got a bowl of the odd porridge she eats every morning. You know better than to ask what’s in that. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had some bugs in there for ‘protein.’

“Hiya, Wends… Wed-nes.” You smirk, sliding yourself onto the chair opposite her. You know she hates nicknames but it’s not your fault she’s extremely fun to tease.

“Y/N.” She responds dryly, her eyes focused on her porridge. She’s happy to see you, though she’ll never admit it or show it, she is. She moves her eyes onto your face, a curious glint in them.

“You’re not usually up this early.” She states, acknowledging the fact that you’re not a morning person. It’s pretty obvious, you still look half asleep.

“I got you something for Valentine’s Day. Just hear me out before you say anything.” You plead, bringing the bag up and placing it on the table. Definitely unhygienic.

Wednesday opens her mouth to protests but decides against it. She sighs and lets go of her spoon, leaning over and looking in the bag. Her eyebrows raise ever so slightly. Not at all expect the Valentine’s gift to be an animal.

“It’s for the dissecting stuff. I don’t know what it’s called.” You shrug, adjusting yourself to a more comfortable position on the stool.

“A rat.” She hums, moving her gaze from the sleeping rat and onto you. Her face portrays the fact that she seems to be impressed.

“I don’t like such a commercialised and pointless day… But, I must say, I’m not exactly opposed to such a gift.” Her dark eyes analyse the animal in front of her. She nodded one last time before averting her eyes to your face.

You smile at her reaction. Glad that she reacted well. Wednesday on the other hand stares at you, she’s very much happy with such a thoughtful gift, but she’d never admit that- not while she’s alive anyway.

She looks around the cafeteria, making sure there are no prying eyes. She turns back to you and grabs you by your tie, pulling you into a soft kiss. The kiss conveys an unspoken ‘thank you’ from her. After a few seconds, she pulls away, going back to her breakfast.

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

Wednesday had been experimenting on the rat specimen all evening in Eugene’s shed. Holding a scalpel, she observes the rat’s organs, pulling the skin back with her gloved hands to see different angles.

By the time you’d arrived, she was finished. The shed was nice and clean, the rat nowhere to be seen and her equipment back in her satchel. Wednesday, still in the school uniform, pats her blazer down, making sure she looks presentable before turning to greet you.

“Hello.” She greets, her voice soft. She leans back against the desk that’s in the shed, her arms folded against her chest.

“I was entertained by the rat you had given me.” She says, her eyes fixated on yours before she continues hesitantly. “…Thank you.” She whispers, moving her gaze away due to the vulnerability she’s feeling.

You smile, just nodding in response. You understand she’s feeling a bit uncomfortable with how open and vulnerable she’s feeling, you don’t want to escalate those feelings. You move closer, eat step sending a surge of electricity throughout you. Your hand moves forward, gently taking her own. Leaning down, you brush your lips against hers allowing Wednesday to close the distance, which, she takes. Wednesday leans forward, capturing your lips into a dance with her own.

After a few moments, Wednesday pulls away, a small smirk on her face. She turns around and reaches for her black satchel. Her manicured nails brushed against the leather. She unzips the back and pulls out a harness- sorry… strap-on?

“How’d that even fit-“ She quickly cuts you off, lifting her cold finger to your lips, silencing you. A small amused smirk plays on her lips.

“The Addams family holds many secrets…” She purrs, her nails gently scratching your cheek, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Very relaxing. With skilled hands, she secures the strap-on around your waist, even through your clothes you can feel the cold leather. Her fingers linger, tracing the outline. You shiver at her touch, captivated by the intensity of her gaze.

“I might open up to this nauseating holiday after this…” Without wanting, she shoves you back roughly, causing you to stumble onto the floor. She straddles your body, the strap-on pressing up against her stomach. Her pale hands reach under her skirt, pulling her black lacy panties to the side.

“Inside. Now.” She says, her tone leaving no room for argument. You quickly nod, your hand wrapping around the cock and blindly positioning it at her glistening entrance under her skirt.

Once she feels the tip run against her, she lowers herself down. Impaling herself with the cock. A small sigh escapes her lips, eyes closed as she starts to move. Her hands on your shoulders for support.

“Guide me.” She coaxed, looking down into your eyes. Her face is flushed, hair slightly dishevelled. It’s a sight a single soul would never expect to see or happen. You obliged to her request- or demand, your hands move to her hips, helping her move. Her hips buck involuntarily now and then.

Over the next few minutes, her movements evoke small whimpers every so often and small sighs of pleasure. Her noises started to escape her cold lips more often, signalling she was getting closer and closer to the edge. Her forehead rests against yours as she continues to ride you, her moans and the sound of the cock entering her is all that can be heard. She kisses your cheek, letting out another small whimper as your fingers move to her sensitive bud under her skirt. Your thumb rubs tight circles against the swollen bundle of nerves, her hips grinding down on both your thumb and the cock.

“Oh- Th… That’s it, good… pet.” She whispers breathlessly, her tone betraying how needy she is for a release. Her nails dig even tighter into your shoulders, even through your blazer you swear she’s broken your skin. Wednesday’s teeth are gritted as her movements become more forceful.

“Bite my neck… Now.” Her hands bury in your hair, using it as leverage to push you into her neck. You open your mouth, your teeth coming into contact with her neck, biting down. She throws her head back, both out of pleasure and wanting to give you more access. The metallic taste fills your mouth, hearing her noises and the taste elicits a moan from you.

“Y/N…” She moans in a growl-like manner as she climaxes, her juices coating the silicone cock. You take your hand away as you move away from her. She collapses against you, breathless as she recovers from her climax. Her hips bucking and legs still shaking around you. She pulls back and looks at you with that same smirk as she did earlier. She presses her hands against your chest, pushing you so your back is fully pressed against the floor.

“Now… Be good, pet, and lick me clean.”

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

[malusmagpie]

His Best Girl.

Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: You two used to be thick as thieves but The Council split you up. Anakin isn't having that go on any longer.

Warnings: 18+ !!!! SMUTTY !!!! Taking virginity, jealousy, restraint, dirty talk/praise kink, hair pulling, dominance, "master" kink, neck kissing, biting, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, etc.

A/N: Y/N/N means your nick name! Inspo from a drabble by @skywlker-sluvtt about the reader being a virgin/inexperienced. Surprise! It's a long one again. I haven't ever written one shots this long idk what's come over me. (It's Anakin. Anakin has come over me.) I love the anakin x jedi reader trope and I can world build forever with it. Anyways, enjoy you filthy animals and thank you so much for the love!! <3 Y'all have made me feel very welcome here.

Word Count: 4.4k

You were just a little girl when you were taken in by the Jedi Council. You remember how wide your eyes were as you watched the planet of Coruscant get closer and closer. You were 8. Anakin was 11. You both clicked quickly and were essentially glued to each others hips. You’d talk yourselves into trouble, sneak out to go stare at the stars at midnight and throw food at each other in the dining hall instead of eating.

When you were children that was fine, it was nothing a stern talking to couldn’t fix. As you grew older, the council began to take strict measures to ensure you two would only be together when absolutely necessary. They decided it was in both of your best interests to stay away from each other and the bond you two shared eventually dwindled. Instead of whispering while a Master was attempting to do their teaching, the two of you would barely exchange glances. You’d walk silently in a single file line to the dining hall, no longer bothering to take the heat for walking next to each other.

The whispering and laughing turned into polite nods and common greetings said in passing. You’d walk right by him and bow your head at him, he’d reciprocate with a fairly neutral expression gracing his features. You’d always feel his head turn to look back at you as you walked in opposite direction, he found himself often wishing he could call over his shoulder and tease you and tell you your form needed work or that your footwork was a mess like he used to when you were young.

You were 19 now. Anakin was 22. You’d barely looked at each other or spoken for longer than a few moments in years. The fear of going against the Councils wishes outweighed your nostalgia for the friendship you once shared. You wanted to be great and so did Anakin. So the two of you focused on becoming the people you’d both dreamed of being.

It wasn’t long until Anakin was knighted. The ceremony was filled with toasts and speeches. You sat with the small group of girls that you had become friendly with over the years and ate your meticulously prepared meal. Anakin sat next to Obi-Wan, along with the other Jedi Masters at the long table at the front of the room. You wished you could give him a hug, congratulate him, tell him he deserved the praise he was getting. He had grown so much you often had a hard time recognizing the little boy you once knew.

You did your fair share of filling out as well. Anakin didn’t let that go unnoticed as his eyes would trail over you when you’d find yourselves in a shared space. When he thought you weren’t looking his eyes would take in every inch of you but you could feel him. You felt every movement of his eyes on you and you could never bare it so you’d often excuse yourself.

That trend continued tonight and as you sat in the large dining hall you felt eyes looking over you. It was such a strong gaze you could practically feel it like fingers touching on the skin under your Jedi appointed uniform. You shivered as you placed your fork next to your plate. Your eyes darted over to Anakin who, to no surprise, was looking right at you. Your tongue darted out to soften your suddenly dry lips and you pressed them into a hint of a smile. He returned the small smile and looked back at Obi-Wan who was proudly speaking to him about their last mission together.

The feeling of his gaze made your stomach flip and you stood up, excusing yourself politely. The need to use the bathroom as a safe space to calm yourself grew within you. You walked through the rows of tables, still feeling a set of eyes on you, and felt a hand lightly grasp your arm and your head snapped to look down at a boy you had trained with once before smiling up at you from his chair. He had dark short hair and piercing green eyes.

“You look nice tonight.” He smiled at you and you raised an eyebrow. “I look the same as I always do.” You muttered, confused and still feeling eyes on you. The gaze harshened and you dropped your head, ignoring it. “Yeah but.. Your hair. You left it down. It’s nice.” He smiled again, he was handsome but this really was not your prerogative. You smiled politely at him and mumbled a thanks to get the interaction over with before scurrying to the bathroom.

Anakin looked between you and the boy as you two spoke, desperately trying to read lips, focus on your voices through the Force, anything to know what was going on. When you smiled he felt his hand tighten around the glass he was raising to his lips. There was a level of possessiveness that Anakin held on to when it came to you. Growing up you were his best friend. His favorite. His best girl. Now you were effectually strangers and it killed him a little every day when you’d curl your perfect lips into a shy smile at him, or wave your soft looking hand at him in passing. He didn’t act on it now when he saw the way the guys would look at you and talk to you but he sure as hell felt jealousy bubble up within him every time it happened. He placed the glass down a little harder than even he expected, his hands pushed against the table so he could stand up. He adjusted his robe as he stood and looked at Obi-Wan. “I’ll be right back.” He muttered as he stepped away from the commotion in the dining hall. He made sure to slip past the boy who had been speaking to you, standing tall and walking confidently. The quiet washed over him as the door of the dining hall closed behind him.

You were standing in the bathroom in front of one of the giant mirrors at the sinks. Your hand combed its way through the ends of your hair, as you tried to make the soft natural curls you had look more presentable. You sighed in frustration when they simply stayed the way they were. You pulled your Jedi robe down and tucked it further into your utility belt to make it look less lumpy from sitting down. The small amount of makeup you had attempted to put on looked alright but it made you mad regardless. Why couldn’t it just look perfect? You thought. You groaned and placed your hands on the corner of the counter, leaning toward your own reflection. You’d never cared about what you looked like before but something about that boys words made your mind go straight to over thinking. “So stupid.” You whispered to yourself.

You felt something, or somebody near you. The Force wasn’t hard to navigate when it was this quiet and your eyes darted to the reflection of the door behind you in the mirror. You watched the door crack open and a sandy blonde head peered in. Anakin pushed the rest of the door open and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made sure to lock it incase somebody came in and gave him shit for being in the women’s lavatory.

“What’re you doing in here?” You whispered, turning around to face him. You took a few steps toward him, only enough for your voice to travel to him without having to raise it. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the beam next to him. His broad shoulders raised and dropped and he looked over you again. “Just wanted to check on you.” He spoke with a small smile on his lips. Maker, you could tackle him to the ground when he did that.

You took a deep breath and looked around the room as you thought of what to say next. “Why would you check on me?” Your eyebrow raised slightly. “Wanted to make sure that little creep didn’t come in here with you.” His words were laced with an emotion you weren’t familiar with and you were taken aback. “Little creep? What are you-“ Your head raised a bit as you realized who and what he was talking about. “Him? He’s just somebody I practiced with one time. I wouldn’t- I’ve never..” Your brain found it increasingly hard to find the right words as you watched Anakin. His strong arms were still crossed over his large chest and he tightened his jaw every time you stuttered.

With a prompt shake of his head he took a step forward, his tongue pushed against the front of his teeth as he smiled with an unbelieving expression. “You’ve never what?” He said, his voice was surprisingly venomous as he spoke to you, you hadn’t gotten a chance to realize how tall he’d gotten until he stepped closer and towered over you. “Done something like that.” Your eyes dropped to gaze at the floor as you muttered the words that he had forced out of you.

There was silence for a moment. His thumb and pointer finger slipped under your chin and grasped it gently to make you look up at him. His blue eyes were a bit darker than normal and your heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now. “Never?” He asked, his interrogation was completely unexpected. You opened and closed your mouth and decided to nod your head instead of let yourself try to speak again. He continued to stare down at you, his eyes searching yours for even a hint of dishonesty. He never found it. “Still my best girl..” He mumbled and your eyebrows pushed together. You hadn’t heard him say that in years though now, it seemed to have a bit of a different meaning to it.

“You’ve grown so much, Y/N/N.” He whispered as his face neared yours. You gulped the access saliva in your mouth down as you responded. “You have too, Ani.” Your words came out weak, you didn’t have the same confidence you normally carried yourself with and it made Anakin smirk. Your soft voice saying the nickname he only allowed you to use made his length twitch in his pants ever so slightly. He hummed and it was almost inaudible. Something about being the only one to know you as well as he did ignited something within him.

“You’ve grown.. But you’ve never had anything special.. Have you?” He whispered. “Something that made you feel good..” His words wrapped around you like an electric blanket and his hand moved to cup your cheek while his thumb caressed it. Your breathing shook and your eyes widened at his words. “N-no.” You muttered through your labored breathing. You could sense how excited this was making him and it was making you feel like you could throw up from anticipation of his next moves. Your cheeks reddened and your ears burned as he looked between your eyes and your lips. “Nobody’s ever gotten to feel those pretty lips? Or hear what could fall from between them?” You gasped quietly at his words and shook your head, your eyes never left his. His thumb moved to trace your lips gently and your eyes rolled back for a fraction of a second. His expression seemed to get more and more intense, his own breathing became a bit heavier.

“And those hands… Nobody’s ever felt how soft and useful they can be?” His free hand traced a finger down your arm before grabbing your hand. Your head was spinning as you shook your head again and he laughed softly. “Can’t even talk.. So fucking innocent.” He growled into your ear and your breath caught in your throat loudly. He smiled at the reactions he was getting from you. He used his grasp on your hand to turn the both of you around so your back was against the wall and he pinned your hand above your head.

“Anakin..” You muttered, your face was bright red and your breath just couldn’t be caught. His warm body pressed up against yours and you whimpered involuntarily at the feeling. He smirked at the reaction and began to place the softest of kisses on your neck, jaw, cheeks, and corners of your mouth. You bit your lip and took deep breaths through your nose. “Please kiss me.” You whined and his head lifted, eyes shining at you. He seemed physically unable to wipe the cunning smile off his face as he pressed his lips against yours. They were hot and soft, causing you to practically melt into him.

It was deep and longing, the feeling behind the kiss. He was smothering you and you couldn’t breathe but it was all worth it. Small breaths were caught between kisses and he stopped to whisper against your lips. “Open..” And you did. You opened your mouth for him and he immediately sucked on your tongue. You gasped and your eyes snapped open to see his still fluttered closed as he tangled his muscle with yours through open mouthed kisses. Your eyes squeezed shut again when his free hand palmed your breast, pushing upward, grabbing it and repeating. His name left your lips and his hips bucked toward yours ever so gently.

“Master Anakin.” He groaned, correcting you against your lips and you complied. “Master Anakin..” You whispered as your head bounced back against the wall in pleasure and you kept it there because he immediately moved his lips down to your neck. He left bites and sucked gently, even blowing on where he left his saliva and you flinched harder causing your free hand to snap up and grab hold of his hair. Your legs squeezed together as you stood against the wall for some kind of release and he stuck his knee between your legs.

“That’s my job.” He growled against your neck. He pushed your pants down with aggression and you kicked them off your feet. He sat on his knees in front of you and grabbed onto your hips, his fingers squeezed into your ass and you moaned. Your legs felt shaky as he sat with his face mere inches away from your heat. You eyed him with wide, curious eyes. You’d never felt like this before. Your now unrestrained hands pushed his hair back from his face and he peered up at you as he slid a finger between your folds. You let out a sound comparable to a squeak at the new feeling and he smirked.

“So wet… All for me, hm?” He whispered as he slid a single finger into your tight hole. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a breathy whimper. He laughed when you weren’t able to respond, your innocent nature made him feel dirty and perverted. He was eating it up as he slid in and out of you slowly, getting you used to the feeling. He pushed himself against your legs to keep your knees from buckling when he felt them shake even more, his free hand reached up and fondled your tits and it doubled as a way to keep you standing. His thumb pressed against your clit and he could feel it pulsating, causing another chuckle to leave his swollen lips. “So fucking eager.” He said with his eyes staring deep into yours as he slid a second finger inside of you. A yelp escaped your lips and you squirmed while he pushed his thumb against your clit and fingered you with one hand and rolled your nipple between his fingers with his other hand. You clenched around his fingers and he shushed you gently.

“Breathe, just let me make you feel good. Relax..” He whispered as he kept a slow and steady pace. You took a few breaths through gritted teeth and it made the pleasure feel all that much better as you relaxed around him. “That’s my girl.” He cooed as he circled his thumb around your clit and curved his fingers toward him causing him to push against the sensitive top wall of your pussy. A gasp escaped and you whined his name as he left kisses all over your hip bones. The warmth sent shivers down your back. Anakin removed his thumb when your eyes squeezed shut and you felt something warm and wet replace it on your clit. A louder gasp escaped your lips when you opened your eyes and saw his mouth on your clit and one of your hands gripped his hair tighter while the other flew toward your mouth in shock at the noise you made. He groaned at the feeling of you pulling his hair and the vibrations made another moan leave your mouth, barricaded by your hand.

“No need to be quiet. Nobody’s coming here..” He whispered and you remember he’d locked the door. You dropped your other hand back into his hair as he lapped away at your clit. The taste made him want to absolutely devour you and he tried his best to get as close as he could to doing so. His fingers moved quicker when he felt you begin to clench again and his tongue went from soft, flat licking to quick, pointed flicking.

“Such a pretty pussy..” He whispered into you. You felt something begin to tighten in your stomach and your back arched, causing you to grind on his face and your cheeks reddened when you realized how good it felt. You swung your hips back and forth desperately and whined his name out as you grinded on his face while he licked and finger fucked you. He smiled when he realized you’d never have known you liked to grind on his face without him, it filled him with pride and he felt his cock press against the zipper of his pants making them feel much tighter now.

One last flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers sent you spiraling over the edge, gasping for air and moaning.

“Oh gods, Master.” You exclaimed with a shaky voice between your moans as your body shook with ecstasy. You’d never felt like this before, your eyes screwed shut as you began to see little dots collect in your vision and you felt a little bit of fluid come out of your pussy, soaking his chin and fingers. He growled at the feeling and pulled his fingers out. He reached his hand to your lips as he stood up in front of you and you opened your mouth willingly. “Such a good girl for me.” He whispered as your eyes rolled back at the taste of yourself on him. When you opened your eyes again after collecting yourself you found his pants were already on the floor and he was working on the tedious layers on his top half. He threw his clothes to the side and caged you in against the wall with a grunt. You felt something long raise up between your legs and hit your pussy and you gasped. Your curious gaze found the culprit and you swore your eyes bulged out of your head.

His hands found their way to your thighs and he pulled on them, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms swung around his neck, squeezing as if you’d fall if you let go. He chuckled. “I’m not gonna drop you.” He said in the cocky tone you knew and adored. Your arms loosened and your stomach flipped when you realized it was his strong arms keeping you levitating in front of him. Another groan escaped his lips at the flustered look on your face and you looked at him through your lashes with dazed, drooped eyes. He smirked and removed one hand to pump his cock as it teased your entrance. How could something that big fit inside of me? You thought to yourself as you labored your breathing. He sensed your nerves.

“You’ll be okay. You can take this, I know you can. You’re my best girl.” He cooed into your ear as you felt his tip push against your virgin hole. You bit on your lip and immediately felt his lips push against you gently. You let go and reciprocated the gentle kiss as he soaked himself in your juices for a moment and pushed the head in. You sucked in a sharp breath and your eyes stung. He looked at you. “Just like before, Y/N/N. Relax… You’re such a good girl.. You can take it.” He groaned between his own words at the feeling of your pussy around his cock. You took a few deep breaths as he slowly sheathed himself into you, his hip bones hit yours and he stopped to let you adjust.

“Good girl.. So fucking tight.” He whispered again, encouraging you to relax and you did. You let out a few more deep, shaky breaths and nodded to him, words weren’t exactly a possibility right now. He smiled and pushed his lips against yours to distract you a bit before he started to move slowly. In and out. In and out. His kisses migrated down your chin to your neck and you pushed your head against the wall. Your chest was rising and falling quicker and quicker as the discomfort began to feel like pleasure. You clenched a bit and moaned when it began to feel better, Anakin took that as his signal to pick up the pace. He stroked the inside of your pussy quicker and quicker, moving all the way to his head before pushing back into you. His grip on your hips tightened and he moaned against your neck. Your hands reached for his hair again, he seemed to enjoy when you did that and it gave you something to tether you to this plane of existence.

“You’re doing such a good job at taking my cock.” He moaned and your eyes rolled back into your head again. Your jaw went slack when he adjusted you to be a bit higher and his dick slid against your g-spot. The noises you were emitting were uncontrollable now. Gasps, whimpers and moans all fell through with the occasional, “Oh Master..” thrown in.

“So pretty with my cock in you… Nobody knows you like I do… They never will.” He grunted as he began to thrust with more aggression and desperation than before. He wanted to feel every inch of you, every crevice and every ridge. Your brain mustered up the power to respond. “They never will… I only want you.. I always have.” Your words came out in between gasps. You let out another moan and squirmed when his fingers dig further into the soft skin on your hips.

His free hand moved one of your hands from his hair to your tits and he leaned back to watch you palm and pinch away at them. His eyes darkened and his teeth gnawed down on his lower lip as he watched. The sight itself was enough to make a man cum in his pants. He watched you play and squirm while you moaned his name and he began to fuck you faster. You almost screamed at the feeling, your voice echoed through the bathroom and you didn’t care at all.

You felt a familiar feeling build up in you and you pulled your other hand from his hair to rub your clit the same way he’d shown you. “Look at you.. Doing what I taught you.” He groaned as he continued his rampage on your pussy. The feeling of both your clit and hole being ravaged caused you to arch your back again and this time he hit a spot he hadn’t before. “Oh fuck.” You exclaimed as you rubbed away at your swollen set of nerve endings quicker, desperately trying to pull the orgasm out. He leaned in and began to kiss you with an open mouth, tongues fought and you could taste the sweat from his upper lip. You clenched around his cock as you let out another orgasm and your convulsing pussy sent him over the edge. His strokes got sloppy and his breath came out of his nose in short, repetitive bursts. He soaked your walls with his milk and you moaned at the feeling of your mixed liquids trickling down to your thigh as he slowed down again.

He let your legs fall and his hands moved to your waist as he slipped out of you and your feet hit the ground as a way of steadying you. Your vision was slightly blurred as you both attempted to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours and his hot breath hit your lips. He leaned in for another kiss and this one was gentle and sweet. You moaned softly into it. “So much better than I’d hoped.” He whispered into your mouth and a blush formed on your cheeks again. He handed your clothes to you and you put them on shakily. When you were both dressed he held you close to him, hands gripping your waist with a gentleness that hadn’t been there when he was fucking you.

“They won’t keep us apart again.” He said softly, staring into your eyes and you smiled. “Never.” You responded and placed another kiss on his lips. He smiled into it and brought you closer by the small of your back before pulling away. “They’re probably wondering where we went.” He chuckled and you smiled in response. He gave you one last kiss on your nose before unlocking the door and slipping out of the bathroom. You waited a few minutes, fixing your hair and now non-existent makeup before following his steps toward the dining hall.

The party had gone smoothly and you didn’t catch a break from the girls you were sitting with about being gone so long. You laughed and brushed them off. The three of you walked towards your own dormitories after taking showers and getting ready for bed. “Goodnight, ladies.” You spoke as you closed your door and got comfortable in your bed. You were giddy and your body felt electric as your mind ran through the memories of the night. It hadn’t been more than an hour before you heard your door open and your head turned towards the light creeping in. Anakin slipped in and shut your door behind him, a smirk graced his face as shock blanketed yours.

“Gods, I missed that pretty face.” He spoke as he approached you. You sat up and smiled up at him. It was going to be a long night.

[klausysworld]

A prompt I had for a while: reader is a single widowed mother. Klaus and her become close but she’s reluctant as she’s scared to start anything with Klaus as she’s worried her daughter may get attached. Klaus is adamant he loves reader and her daughter.

Just fluff and stuff!

Bonus: smut? And even a lil addition to the family that’s a mix of Klaus and reader 👶

Life goes on

I had only dated a couple of guys since losing my husband.

It had taken a while to allow myself to feel okay with being someone else, especially because of Luna; my daughter. She's only young, barely 6 and I didn't want her to think I was replacing her father, not that she really remembers him much now. Years had passed now and sometimes she would ask where her daddy was and why he couldn't visit.

I had only let her meet one other guy before and she was more heartbroken than I was when it didn't work out so I knew I needed to keep her away from that aspect of my life, especially while she was so young.

But that didn't mean that I didn't date.

It wasn't a frequent thing, just when I found someone I really liked and well, I really liked Nik.

We met at Luna's school actually. He also has a daughter who's a few years older and we had just dropped them off. I accidentally caught his eye when I took a glance round the playground and we smiled at each other politely.

He was a sight for sore eyes: good hair, nice eyes, charming smile, lean body and a nice sense of fashion. An annoying sense of guilt always filled me when I found another man attractive so I looked away and headed to work.

Still though, I couldn't help look for him and his smile every morning when I dropped Luna off and every afternoon when I picked her back up. He would always be looking back at me as his own daughter would run on over to him and he would take her backpack from her and give me a look as if to say "Kids, am I right?" and I would always smile a little wider and gesture to my own who would always be pulling on my sleeve telling me she wanted to go home or to a friends house.

It made me jump a little the first time he actually spoke to me, he had appeared behind me as though out of thin air and quickly apologised when I flinched away at the sound of his voice and placed my hand over my chest.

He chuckled as he spoke, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to frighten you"

His voice had a beautiful accent that made my cheeks blush pink and my attention to focus on him completely.

"That's okay, I just wasn't paying attention" I dismissed and he smiled

"I'm Nik" he introduced and I felt my heart flutter a little bit in a way that I knew I would feel bad about later.

"Y/n" I whispered and he hummed as he took my hand and kissed that back of it, I couldn't help but laugh at the outdated gesture and he rolled his eyes playfully.

I glanced over to the doors where I was waiting for Luna to come out briefly before turning back to him. He had a curious sort of look in his eye that made me ask if something was wrong but he shook his head.

"I just don't understand why you're single" he murmured and I felt my eyes go to the floor as I hesitated because there was no right way to every tell somebody that my husband had died and since then my life was a mess. So I turned away from him and tried to swallow the memory of my husbands death away but then I felt his Nik's on my arm and the gentle act reminded me of him. "I don't mean to offend you" he told me, his tone soft and it made me feel worse.

"You didn't, I'm sorry my daughters here now so I have to go" I whispered, walking forward to meet Luna as she already had her hand outstretched to hold onto mine.

I tried not to look at him the next day.

Dating was complicated enough, dating a man who's child went to the same school as mine was too much.

However, for better or worse, no matter how much I tried to ignore him, our eyes always seemed to meet and as the days passed we ended up stood closer and closer together. Once we were so close, it felt rude to ignore him so we would talk. Not really about anything important or deep, mostly parent things and what sorts of things the girls were up to. It was a conversation topic that was easy and didn't open up too many personal questions.

I started to like him, more than I wanted to. But so did other moms and teachers for that matter even though most of them were married. Woman were cruel sometimes, often I wondered if they just never evolved from highschool.

For whatever reason, they didn't like that I was a single mother, despite it not being my fault or choice. Luna and I had moved here after my husband died but I only had to tell one person for the whole town to know that I was widowed and struggling.

Klaus wasn't aware for a while, not until one of the other moms filled him in.

I had gotten to school a little late because work and ran over, I was never late but unfortunately I had been that day but I rang the school to let them know even though it was only a few minutes so that Luna wasn't stood waiting.

When I got there Luna was running toward me crying and I quickly lifted her up asking what was wrong.

"They're talking about Daddy" she whimpered and I quickly looked over. Two woman were talking to eachother, loudly. Nik was looking right at me and I felt my face heating up as the moms spoke about how felt for someone like me and they wondered how I managed to even get out of bed each morning let alone flirt with other men after losing my husband.

I kissed Luna's head gently and whispered for her to ignore it before walking briskly to my car and strapping her in. I wiped away the tears that threatened to spill and went round to my side of the car.

Fast paced footsteps approached me before I heard his voice. "Y/n, love, are you alright?" he asked, his hand going to my upper back in an act of comfort and it made my eyes water again.

"I'm fine" I whispered but it came out as weak and unconvincing as I felt.

I didn't have it in me to push myself away from him when he pulled me into a hug, his hand stroked the back of my hair and I cried into his shoulder. I knew Luna could see me hugging a man from her carseat and it made me cry harder at the thought.

"It's alright" he mumbled while his arms seemed to circle me tighter. I tried to apologise but he shushed my sorrys away and helped wipe my tears away. I glanced over to where his daughter, Hope, was stood. She gave me a sympathetic smile and waved a little, Klaus handed Hope the keys to his car and asked he to wait for a moment before turning back to me. "Hope lost her mother due to childbirth" he told me and I softened all that more.

"I'd say I'm sorry but... I know that's not really something you want to hear again" I whispered and he smiled a little.

"You'd be correct" he muttered and I glanced back at Luna who held a worried but curious expression. I looked back at him and nodded before letting go of me and opening my car door for me. I sniffed and thanked him before getting into my seat and watching him walk over to his own car before driving home.

Luna asked who he was and I told her he was just another dad from school, but I knew she wasn't as clueless as she acted.

Thankfully it was a Friday so I didn't have to see Nik for a couple of days, or any of the moms. Just Luna and I.

Once Monday came back around I didn't feel like facing the stuck up bitches of the community so watched Luna go in from my car and waved to her teacher at the door so they knew how Luna got there. I went to get back into my car when Nik's voice called out for me and captured my attention once more.

"I do hope you aren't avoiding me, love" he called as he grew nearer and I quickly shook my head.

"No, not you" I replied and his brows pulled together briefly before a look of realisation and sympathy washed over his face.

"They don't know what they're saying. Nobody knows how it feels until they've gone through it, not that I want any of them to but it would help a little if they understood at least a fraction of the pain" he expressed and I couldn't have worded it better myself.

"I just don't know how people can be so unempathetic" I mumbled and he nodded solemnly.

"The world" he muttered "is a cruel place. It always has been." somehow he sounded as if he truly knew that and I found myself questioning it.

"Will it always be?" I whispered and he shook his head.

"Not for everyone. Not for you, I won't allow it." he told me, honesty shining in his eyes that made a blush spread to my ears and a smile to creep across my face.

"I won't hold you to it" I breathed but he shook his head and took my hand, kissing the back of it making my eyes roll.

"I don't tend to break promises" he uttered before squeezing my hand and letting me go to work for the day.

Later we both got to school early to see the other though neither of us outwardly confirmed it, we both knew. That was when he asked if I was ever free to go out for lunch or dinner or anything. I was reluctant and he could see that,

"It doesn't have to be a date" he offered, "just friends getting something to eat or drink or going on a walk..."

After a moment I agreed and told him that one of my neighbours would be happy to babysit Luna for a couple hours after work or on the weekend. The elderly lady next door was lovely and welcoming, she gave sympathy immediately and loved Luna from day one and had watched over her a couple times throughout the last couple years.

We just went and got some coffee and went for a walk to begin with. It was nice to ease into it. The last guy I went out with expected way too much on the first date while Nik kissed my cheek and knew that was enough for that day. Somehow he seemed to know everything, when to make a move and when to slow down. He could read me like a book and under different circumstanced that would scare me but I didn't feel afraid with him.

So I started to see him more frequently, more romantically.

He would take me to fancy restaurants and refuse to let me even see the check which to begin with was cute but started to make me feel guilty which he picked up on and explained that he didn't want me to ever think about money when I was with him. He said that he had more than he knew what to do with and spoiling me made him happy. I wasn't completely settled with this answer but I accepted it a bit.

We ended up making it into a little game. We would see which one of us could grab the check the fastest, he almost always won but every now and then I would manage to snatch it up, he would be trying to get it off of me but I would threaten to scream so he had to stop tickling. On occasion, if he had to go to the bathroom, I would manage to pay the bill before he was able to intervene and he would strop over it and end up buying me something worth much more that the date.

Everything about it was heavenly, accept for the comments and opinions of others. However it seemed that people only seemed to step out of line once before they never spoke ill of me again, it was strange but somehow I knew that Klaus had something to do with it.

This was confirmed when he dropped be home and my neighbour: Dorothy, or Dot was stood outside with a hard expression on her face as she held a sleeping Luna. I approached with a confused frown.

"What's wrong?" I asked worried and her eyes snapped to mine.

"That's the man you're seeing?" she asked, her tone judgemental and I didn't understand the switch up. I nodded, confused and she tightened her hold on Luna making my eyes narrow in concern. "You stop talking to that man right now. He is no good and never will be. A monster is that man and I will not allow him to be in Luna's life nor yours." she argued and I frowned.

"Dot- what on earth are you on about?" I asked, alarmed.

"He is the devil reincarnated. You stay away." she warned as she handed me Luna. "You don't understand now but you will if you stay near him. He'll ruin whatever good you have."

I didn't know what she was on about, or why or how she knew Nik but Dorothy was not a liar and she was not a hateful person so to see her voice such a harsh opinion spoke volumes.

I was a little more skeptical around Nik, but I also didn't really know what I was looking for. He just seemed upset and stressed when I turned down the third date in a row.

It made me feel awful so I went to Dot and started to demand answers.

Now, I'll be honest, I thought she was losing it when she started talking about vampires and werewolves and witches. But when I tried to leave the door slammed shut without her touching it and the fireplace flames roared.

"You have to listen to me dear, and you have to really hear me to be able to understand" she whispered, leading me back to the sitting room where she went into depth regarding her own witch heritage and then the originals and Nik or rather Niklaus.

Luna knew something was wrong when I let her have a couple days off school and she asked if it was because of Nik. She wasn't naive and she knew that I liked him more than others.

Eventually she asked to go back to school, being at home for so many days was boring so I took her in.

There was no way of avoiding Niklaus when he was waiting beside my car with a look of hurt throughout him. I tried to ignore him and just open the door but his hand touched my arm and I pulled away quickly. He caged me against the car and I could feel fear consuming me.

"Y/n" he murmured, his tone so soft that it confused me again. "Love, if I've done something to upset to upset you or scare you..." He trailed, his hands cupping both sides of my face and I couldn't help but enjoy the warmth he always had. I didn't want to look at him, I didn't know how to get out of the situation I was in and it was making me panic further.

"I need to go to work" I whispered quietly, weakly.

"I know..." he mumbled, "but...I need you and... you won't even look at me"

"You don't need me Nik" I told him, "It was only a few dates-"

"It's not" he argued

"We haven't slept together so it's not a big deal-"

"That's a lie and you know it" he whispered, exasperated.

I glanced up at him, and then I wasn't able to look away. He was right, it was a much bigger deal than I wanted to admit. We had connected on a much more emotional level than anyone I had before, other than my husband those years ago.

"We can't be together" I whispered and his frown deepened

"Did I kiss you too soon? I never meant to rush you" he muttered, concern displayed across his face

"It's not that-"

"Then what-"

"You're a vampire!" I whisper-yelled and his mouth snapped shut. "Or a hybrid or something...I don't...I can't..."

He stayed silent and stepped back, allowing me to open my car door and get in. I didn't hesitate in driving away.

I didn't see him when I picked up Luna however I did receive a message later that evening.

Hello, my love I do hope you'll one day forgive me for keeping my true identity a secret. I never meant to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable, however I suppose that's why I didn't tell you. I like you very much, more than I have liked someone in many years and I love that you're such a lovely mother. I've thoroughly enjoyed our dates and I had hoped that we would progress our relationship however I understand that you are afraid for yourself and for Luna. Know that I would never, ever harm your daughter. I have one of my own and I know what it's like to love and worry for a child. I would never hurt either of you. Still, I know you will probably feel alarmed by my presence so I'll leave you be is that's would you want, all I ask is that you please don't tell others of my species as it puts Hope's life endanger and all I want is for her and you to be safe. I don't expect a reply but know that I will always have a space for you in my heart.

I could feel my heart aching as I read down to the bottom line.

I didn't see him anywhere for the next too weeks and I found myself missing him terribly.

Eventually I couldn't take it. I found that I didn't see him as anything other than a man. Not a monster or a threat. Just someone I cared for deeply and knowing that I had hurt him made me feel terribly guilty.

So I ended up messaging for him to meet me outside a little cafe. I had already ordered and paid for our drinks and was sat at a table waiting for him to arrive anxiously.

He got there exactly on time like always and sat opposite me with a singular flower for in his hand which he held out for me and I accepted with a small smile.

"Thank you" I whispered and his lips curled up as his hand moved to hold my hand and I let him, holding his back.

We spoke for a while, discussed who he was and how he got here, his intentions and any of my other questions before talking about our relationship again. I told him about my neighbour and he said he knew her last name and that decades ago her family had been involved with his brother, Kol, which resulted in a rather brutal and tragic even.

He admitted to being apart of the massacre and didn't attempt to justify his actions but just apologised for them and offered to formally apologise to Dorothy.

So, I brought him to her home and she instantly attacked him. It was only when I got in the way and she accidentally hurt me instead that she stopped. I was holding onto my head and crying while Klaus held me to his chest and tried to have me drink his blood which I now knew would heal me but the idea of it made me gag. Eventually I let the metallic taste fill my mouth and swallowed it down, the pain went away in a matter of seconds and Dot was hysterically sorry.

Klaus wouldn't let her near me and instead lifted me up and took me home. Dot begged me not to invite him in but I did so anyway.

He sat me down on the couch and kept asking if I was still hurt no matter how many times I told him that I was okay. He seemed more sorry than Dorothy and wouldn't stop checking me over.

It made me see just how much he cared and how honest he was being when he said he didn't want any harm to come to me. I could also see him resisting the urge to go back over to Dot after her causing me pain.

Eventually we had to go get Hope and Luna. No other parents so much as glanced our way when we both arrived in my car and I glanced to Klaus with the sneaking suspicion that he had compelled some of the women there but I didn't ask.

I let him officially meet Luna and although she was shy, she told me that she liked him once we got home.

Hope and Luna had a couple of play dates and everyone was getting along.

Luna started to ask for Nik sometimes, and once or twice she had accidentally called him 'dad' or 'daddy' though she would deny it afterwards and cry because she didn't want her father to think she was replacing him which would break my heart without fail.

Hope was a little older than Luna so more mature, Klaus didn't have the same issues I was having.

It had been months, over a year since our first date and Klaus told me that he loved me. It was a reality check of sorts. It scared me a little.

I had to start really thinking. Klaus was immortal and hope had powers. Luna and I would never be anything more than human. We would never be powerful and one day I would get old and Klaus wouldn't love me the way he does now, for all I know another woman could catch his eye and he would leave Luna and I right back where we were. Alone.

It worried me more when Luna asked if Nik and Hope could live with us. It was something I know Nik had considered, he had spoken about it a couple times but we never really came to a final decision. However I had to think about that now.

Klaus was already adamant that I shouldn't have to work so much but the fear of him leaving, or worse...dying, made me cling onto my job for stability. I couldn't ever risk not having a roof over Luna's head and that meant never relying on anybody. I know Nik doesn't really understand that fear. He promises that, even though it won't ever happen, if we did break up then he would never let myself or Luna to be struggling.

"I could never do that to you" he promised after I told him of the thoughts that haunted my head.

"Not now maybe...but I don't know...what if something really bad happened?" I asked quietly and he frowned, cupping my jaw and kissing my forehead as we lay in my bed for the third night in a row while Luna and Hope had another sleepover a couple doors over.

"Nothing could ever be bad enough for me to do that" he whispered and I looked down as i traced meaningless shapes onto his bare chest.

"What if...what if you were killed or something?" I mumbled, wincing at the thought and memories.

"Then I would leave everything to you and you and Luna and Hope would be living like royalty" he murmured and I game him an unconvincing half-smile.

"Well...what if something happened to me?" I questioned and he went quiet, just looking at me for a moment before replying.

"Then I would raise Luna as well as I could, and we would think of you and love you always" he finally answered and I lay my head down against his shoulder, staring at nothing in particular.

“You have to promise…that even if you hate me, you can’t ever hate Luna” I whisper. His hold tightened on me and I was pulled as close as physically possible.

“I promise” he agreed as I closed my eyes as I tried to relax as much as I could.

I won’t lie, I had to be reassured more than I thought. I just couldn’t stop the worries.

But Klaus always had the perfect thing to say, he always made me feel safe and comfortable. He made Luna happy and he was a new beginning for both of us. Him and Hope were our family now, Always and Forever.

(I’m so sorry I didn’t add any smut or another addition…maybe I could make a part two and involve their family growing?? I think I got too invested in the emotional side when writing)

[miguelhugger2099]

Him and I (2/2)

Summary: Lyla, is it normal to be jealous of your variant? Prev A/N: shout out to the literal artist of the recent 2099 comics for drawing atsv miggy and comic miggy side by side, it inspired this fic in the first place. TheWarBlazer on twt :) Comic!Miguel x Reader x ATSV!Miguel, SMUT, little PWP, Word Count: 6, 355 Comic Miggy = Mig / ATSV Miggy = Miguel c:

By morning, you had woken up slowly, processing where you were and what you had done the night before. Your hair was a mess and you pulled the covers around you when it slipped off, feeling a bit chilly. You looked around you to find yourself to put on, ultimately finding your panties ripped apart from yesterday so you just settled on loose shorts and Miguel’s blue t-shirt lying to the side. You noticed he wasn’t beside you but there was a smell in the air that told you he was at least still home and making breakfast.

You got up from the bed, making sure your legs worked still before peeking out the door to see if you could spot him. You turned your head from side to side until you finally caught him, leaning against the stove slightly in a compression shirt with sweatpants.

Miguel was there cooking up a basic breakfast of eggs and toast, taking a few sips of what you believe to be his protein shake. He glanced behind his shoulder to see you and he gently smiled. “Hey.”

You smiled weakly back at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice your cheeks darkening. “Hey. Morning.” You waved awkwardly.

Miguel chuckled and pointed to a bag on the glass table. “I bought some empanadas from the panaderia I go to. I didn’t know which one you’d like so I got both chicken and beef.” He faced back to the pan to scramble his eggs. You made your way over to the bag, opening it up to see another smaller set of bags labeled messily with Miguel’s handwriting.

“Which one do you recommend?” You asked, taking one from the beef label.

“The chicken.” He responded. You chuckled to yourself since the other Miguel preferred beef.

You walked over next to him and watched him work as you took a bite into the empanada. He turned and gave you a small smile, satisfied that you liked what he brought you.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked, turning off the stove and taking two plates from the cupboard. You nod.

“Yeah. Just, uh, starting to wake up.” You blush softly, remembering the scenes from last night. Mig hides the prideful smile on his face.

“That’s good. I’m glad.” He places a decent amount on both of your plates and leads you to the dining table where you both begin eating and chatting.

He admires you as you speak, finding the beauty in this new you that he once knew.

After a while, you and Miguel felt the air shift, mugs and utensils starting to hover a bit in mid-air. You stiffened, knowing what this feeling was. Someone was opening a portal. Someone found you.

You quickly stand up and Miguel follows with a worried expression. “What’s wrong?” He asks, on edge and his talons extract subconsciously to the unknown he felt around him. You don’t answer and instead face the door of his bedroom where the warping was. Your spider senses went wild but calmed down the moment you realized that this was another spider person–they weren’t threats but you were just shocked.

You take a step back, closer in front of Miguel in case whatever spider person would ask questions. What you weren’t prepared for, was your boss opening the bedroom door to walk where you two were.

There was the leader of the Spider Society in all his glory, Miguel O’Hara–the original version you knew.

“Miguel…” You gasped breathlessly in shock, barely a whisper. Shit. “He-hey!” You laugh nervously. “You, uh, wow–haha.” You were speechless, knacking your brain to say something–anything to explain yourself. “You found me,” you chuckled nervously. “Y’know–I–I was lost for a bit but um–thankfully–I found another spider person and–wouldn’t you know it– it’s another you. So I was…extra…safe…” You trail off, noticing how Miguel had stared behind you to look at his other variant. You glance behind you to see the redhead tense up, standing up straighter to not be intimidated by this other version of himself.

“Yes. I was looking for you.” Miguel grunts, still as hardworking as ever. “The others were worried.”

Your gaze softened, thinking of your friends and feeling your heart swell at their concern. “Yeah. But I’m safe and look,” You showed your watch up to Miguel, his eyes ripping themselves off his variant to your watch. “He fixed it for me. You two really are alike.” You smile.

“I–I was gonna go back, but the watch was just fixed. No communications and the touch pad wasn’t working–” You tried to explain but your boss cuts you off.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Now we need you back.” He frowns down at you. Your smile drops and so does your heart.

“Well…well of course but–”

“But?” Miguel cocks an eyebrow up, his frown deepening. You purse your lips–even though you knew Miguel close enough, he was still your boss. You glance back at his counterpart apologetically and in turn he glances down at you.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper your apology to him and he doesn’t like it.

“You don’t have to go.” He whispers back to you, one hand resting on your arm and the other cupping your cheek. Neither of you notice your boss glare at the way he’s touching you. “You can go back whenever.” He insists.

“Actually she can’t,” The brunette's voice booms between you two. “She has a job to do as Spider-Woman–at the HQ.” He hisses out.

“But she wants to stay here. You can’t just make her.” The redhead retaliates. Miguel grows annoyed, kissing his teeth with a loud tsk.

“She isn’t yours.” MIguel grabbed your arm and tugged you towards his chest. The redhead grabbed onto your other arm and tried pulling you away from him, making you in the middle.

“She isn’t yours either.” He spat back. Both Miguel’s scowled at one another, your boss puffing up his chest to tower over both of you while his variant bared his fangs unwavering to his attempt to scare him off. “Did you even bother to ask what she wants?”

You look up at the redhead, even though he was facing off his counterpart–they could very well tear each other apart. “Miggy, just hold on–”

“Miggy?!” Your boss scrunches up his face, not even prepared to hear a nickname come out of your mouth for his variant. You blushed and opened your mouth in shock–the nickname had spilled out.

“Not–Not like that! It isn’t like that!”

“Not like that? What, so you just have sex with every variant? Give them pet names right after?” He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms in a snarl.

You start babbling to defend yourself but Mig perks up.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks. You and Miguel both turn to him–you still flustered while Miguel scowls at his counterpart.

“What are you talking about?”

“How did you know we had sex?” Mig crosses his arms and narrows his eyes up at Miguel on the other side. You blink for a moment and then it slowly processes in your brain.

He…He watched. But how?

The watch.

You snapped your neck back to your boss and you see him clench his jaw but his eyes don’t look at down at you–the tips of his ears grow increasingly red.

“You watched,” Mig laughs, shaking his head in disbelief and throwing his hands up. “You watched,” He repeats. “You sick-"

Stubbornly, Miguel tries not to falter. “She called.”

But his own self knows better than that. “And you stayed.”

“I was making sure she was safe.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Making sure she could safely cum? Yeah, I handled that.”

“Guys—” You interrupt with pure horror on your face. “Can we please not?” You turn to face Miguel’s general direction but you don’t meet his eyes. “We can just forget about everything in the last twenty four hours and what happened here so–”

“I want you back at HQ,” Miguel grumbles, turning his head away from you but still protecting his masculinity and pride with his arms tightened around him. “Away from here and back to work.”

His counterpart scoffs a humorless laugh. “Now I get it,” He walks up to Miguel and pulls you behind him “You’re jealous.”

Miguel squints his eyes down at him. “What?” He growls but the other’s smile only grows. He’s figured him out. They have the same mind after all.

“Jealous,” He repeats. “Did you have some feelings for her? Is that why you’re here all pissed? Just cause I got to her first?”

“Don’t piss me off.” Miguel’s face hardens, his frown growing deeper and showing his fangs off to threaten him.

“Or what?” Mig growls back, his talons extracting from his fingertips.

Feeling the growing tension, you try to speak up since one Miguel was dangerous enough–two of them would be catastrophic.

“Hey–can we not, maybe?” You interject, moving beside Mig and trying to catch your boss’ eye. Mig turns his head at you for a moment and then grinning to himself as he comes up with an idea.

The redhead hugs your back close to his chest, one hand on your hip and the other sliding up his shirt you’re wearing to reveal your stomach to the brunette. “Mig!” You gasp, blushing fiercely and holding onto his arms. You look away from your boss in embarrassment, opting to hide in his variant's neck, which he happily allows. You fail to notice your boss’s breath hitch at seeing your bare skin and his pupils being blown wide. The Miguel behind you smirks even wider.

“We could share.”

“I don’t share.” He growls.

“So you do want her. Just for yourself.” Miguel doesn’t respond, his eyes focused on the way you squirmed under his gaze alone.

“Mig–Mig, please.” You whine when you feel his porcelain hand disappear under your shirt to cup one tit in his hand and run his thumb over your nipple.

“Stop that.” Miguel’s jaw clenched when his eyes met his match. Bright red eyes narrowing at his scarlet ones.

“I’m not stupid. I’m you. I know what you want,” The redhead murmurs, grazing his teeth on your earlobe. “What she wants,” His mouth curls up when he sees you purse your lips to hide your moans but he can feel your heartbeat. “What we all want right now.”

Mig looks up at the other version of himself, realizing that this one might not be as confident as he is. A by the rules asshole who was all about work, work, work. He was the same but not to this extent. However, if this Spider-Man was anything like him, all he had to do was wave the candy in front of his face and he’d crack. No matter the universe, Miguel O’Hara always grabbed what he wanted if the right buttons were pressed.

Your soft mewl snaps them both out of their mental warfare, two pairs of eyes looking down at you between them to see you look bashful and hot with embarrassment. For a moment, both men stop, equally concerned with putting you in the middle. Your boss feels the most guilt but Mig on the other hand feels less so. With his hand right by your heart, he can feel the heat emanating from your body and pounding heartbeat against your ribs. He has felt the same need and craving when you were squealing last night.

“Isn’t that something you want?” Mig hums, his hand on your hip playing with the string of your shorts. Miguel takes a firm step forward to stop him but was stopped when you nodded your head. Your eyes still shut while you felt your cheeks burning. Mig’s touch was intoxicating especially with the feeling of him on you from last night still lingering on your body.

“I need words, sweetheart.” He hums and you purse your lips for a moment.

“Yes…” You choke out.

“Yes, what?” Mig asks you but looks at Miguel.

“Yes, I want it…” You groan, feeling humiliated but it was exhilarating at the same time. The redhead slides his hand under your shorts to feel the new wet patch growing between your legs. Mig smirks as he remembers slicing off your panties last night. He nudges your legs, a silent command to spread them apart and you give him that access with shaky steps. He lets you relax on his chest while his fingers spread your folds apart while you whimper. Miguel stares at the hand in your pants with a blush across his face, fighting his two emotions of wanting to stop this and wanting to make you whimper like that.

Your boss’ variant bunches up your shirt over your breasts and you writhe in his hold, trying to gain some sense of decency while the two men basically get off on just the sight of you.

“You want more, don’t you?” Mig behind you purrs, his fingers in your shorts gently rub circles against your clit while his other hand tweaks and pinches your nipple. “Want to feel nice and full?” He kisses along your neck and you try to grind against his fingers, wanting them to slip inside but he was just teasing you. You moan softly, focusing on the feeling of electricity jolting down to your core.

“Uh-huh, mhm–please,” You whined. Miguel’s breathing increases and his suit strains to accommodate for the bulge growing between himself. His hands clench and unclench beside him as he itches to grab your body to feel the soft skin you could provide him. His eyes lingered on your tits and he licked his lips subconsciously.

“Hear that? She wants more. Isn’t that convenient?” The redhead chuckles, slipping his hand out from your pants and showing up with his fingers covered from the juices your cunt provided him. “You just gonna leave her like this? Or are you gonna help out your precious little employee?” He taunts Miguel and Miguel swallows the lump in his throat.

Miguel takes another step forward just enough to be in front of you and to feel the heat coming off you and his variant. He hesitantly rests his hand on your hip and you flinch, not expecting to feel a third hand on your body. Miguel’s variant raises his slick soaked fingers to your mouth and smears a bit of it on your bottom lip. You open up slightly but Mig had already slid them inside your mouth making your tongue taste yourself. You whine as best you could with his fingers in your mouth and look up at Miguel with shame. You felt your cheeks burning hot but your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Miguel stared down at you, huffing softly as he watched you suck your slick off his own variants fingers.

“Fuck…” He groaned and his grip on your hip tightened. “Can I? Please.” He bent over slightly, his breath hitting your face. The redhead behind you watched and then flicked your nipple when you didn’t respond fast enough. You yelped around his digits and felt them slip out, a string of saliva coming out.

You nodded again, reaching one hand off Mig’s arm to hold onto Miguel’s shoulder.

Miguel slides your shorts down, pooling them underneath you and moans when he finds you without underwear, his cock twitching in anticipation. His hand on your hip slides down to lift your leg up and he moves closer to rub his crotch against your core. The blunt nudge sent a jolt of pleasure through your body and you nearly fell back if Mig wasn’t holding you from behind. Miguel’s other hand rises up to cup your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh between his fingers.

“Ah–Fuck…!” You gasp and roll your head back against his variant's shoulder, your eyes barely glancing down at the two toned hands cupping and grabbing your body. You feel Mig thrust softly behind you, poking your ass while Miguel continues to grind up against your pussy. Your mind went foggy as you felt both men surround you, the fantasy of being taken by both of them sent your brain short circuiting.

The shirt you had been wearing fumbles back down, covering yourself once more. Miguel grunts in annoyance, letting go of your breast to rip the fabric into shreds with his talons that made Mig tsk. Miguel went back to playing with your nipple until he leaned down to latch onto it, flicking the nub gently with his tongue. You twitched and gasped, arching your back off Mig and into Miguel’s mouth. “Miguel!” You mewl and he groans in response, biting it with his teeth and pulling before letting go and watching how erect it had gotten, wet with his spit.

You hear Mig grunt behind you, bucking his hips against your ass to feel some friction for his cock. His arm wrapped around your middle to pull you against him, his lips dragged along your neck in open mouthed kisses and his hand returned to twist your nipple between his index finger and thumb. Miguel pulled away from you a bit so glance down at the soaking mess you made on his suit, his cock throbbing for more. So, he rips his variant’s hand off your waist.

Miguel then hauled you over his shoulder, returning back to the bedroom and tossing your body on the mattress, giving you a strange sense of deja vu. Mig rolled his eyes and followed behind your two and saw you on his bed once more. You squeak and cover your eyes when Miguel phased out of his suit and Mig tossed his shirt up and over his head. Miguel crawls in bed with you, his frame basically covering everything in front of you. You peek through your fingers and close your legs which makes both men frown. Mig crawls beside you, pulling one leg apart while Miguel takes the other. Mig takes your hands away from your face and settles for kissing your cheeks and trailing down to your jaw and collarbone.

“Don’t be shy,” He murmurs, his hands cupping your tits in his large palms. “You’ve already had one of us. What’s another one, hm?” You moan out when he plays with one nipple in his hand and sucking the other. Miguel kisses down your stomach, finding himself fond of your thighs, squishing them in his hands and grazing them softly with his talons. Goosebumps rise to your skin as his tongue teases just outside your pussy.

Miguel’s plump lips take your clit and he gently sucks on it, his tongue licking up and down and swirling around it. You quickly grip both Miguel’s hair in one hand and pull them closer to you body. Your mind didn’t know who to focus on first, it was like they touched every nerve possible and turned you numb, only to feel pleasure and nothing else.

Miguel pulls away entirely, spreading your folds apart to see the increasing amount of slick you were producing and he groaned. He slips a finger inside you pushing through from how tight you surrounded yourself on his digit. “Coño…” Miguel mutters. You spread your legs further apart, Miguel kissing the inside of your thigh appreciatively. Your head rolls back as the two men assault every possible soft spot on your body.

Mig twists your nipple between his fingers at the same time his mouth suckled around your other nipple. You felt his teeth nibble the bud, his fangs grazing over you delicately. Miguel continues to ease his finger deeper inside you, preparing you for another finger. You moan loudly, writhing beneath them desperately and it’s no use–not when two grown men are keeping you still with their weight and hands. You try bucking your hips further down Miguel’s fingers, whimpering his name and gasping. Miguel curls his fingers inside you, hitting the soft spot you’ve been craving and so you squeal in pleasure. Mig quickly lets go of your abused nipple to kiss you and hinder your moaning.

Miguel growls and glares at the redhead. “I want to hear her.”

“Mmm, too bad.” Mig chuckles against your lips and slips his tongue in your mouth. You could barely focus, face contorted in pleasure as Miguel takes it as a challenge. He dives back into your cunt, pumping his fingers while his tongue flicks up and down to lap up your juices. Your moans are muffled by Mig’s mouth but your hips buck wildly to meet your boss’ wet muscle licking you up. He pins your hips down so he can focus on eating you out properly and you whimper, your body completely hindered and at their command. His nose nudges against your clit and you claw into their hair. One hand in straight ginger locks while the other hand yanks on wavy brown strands.

Mig pulls away from your lips to take a deep breath, both your tongues and lips are wet from swapping spit. You’re breathless from the kiss so you stick to small whines and mewling as you hump yourself on Miguel’s fingers and mouth. He feels you convulsing around his fingers and he eases a third finger, scissoring you to stretch you out just a little more. “Miguel! Miguel! So close, I'm so close–please!” You beg, trying to fight against his hands holding you down.

But Miguel pulls away all of a sudden. The pressure inside your abdomen disappears and you groan in frustration. “No!”

“Tranquilo. You’ll get what you want.” Miguel mutters under his breath. He looks over at his variant, a silent conversation going on that only a Miguel would ever understand. Mig settles by your head, his cock strained against his sweatpants. You look over lazily at it and try to reach for his waistband but he stops you with a gentle smile.

“Not yet, princess.” He kisses your knuckles before dropping it back to your side. You’re confused for just a moment but you’re pulled out of it when you feel Miguel lift your legs over his shoulders. He lines his cock up with your entrance, his angry red tip dribbling an insane amount of precum. He glides himself in between your folds to lube himself up and your pussy throbs feeling how hard he is. Miguel huffs, his cheeks flushed as the lust clouds his judgment and mind.

Being as gentle as he possibly could, Miguel pushes his tip inside you. You gasp and arch your back, Miguel being just a bit bigger than you’ve taken before. Mig jumps into action, playing with your nipples while he runs kisses along your neck. “Hold onto me, mama. I’ve got you.” He murmurs. Your hand grips into his hair again while the other grips the sheets.

“Mig, Mig…” You whine while Miguel pushes further inside. Miguel rubs your thighs to ease you into some comfort and trying to stop himself from splitting you apart. Both men whisper sweet nothings to you, praising you for how well you’re doing and how good it’ll feel. Miguel rubs your clit in small circles while he reaches the hilt.

“S’good…” Miguel murmurs. “You’re doing so good.” He slowly pulls out, watching your pussy soak his cock. He strokes himself inside you softly as to not hurt you but, damn, was it hard. Mig tries to relieve your stress by bringing your nipple in his mouth again, his hands holding you and rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

You moan and arch your back, your hips lifting up to meet one of Miguel’s soft thrusting. That feeling you had last night of needing something more was slowly being quenched. Having multiple hands, multiple options of pleasure was just what you needed and it seemed like they thought the same. Miguel held your legs up while he picked up his pace, his balls smacking against the curve of your ass. You felt him stretch you out with every thrust, your pussy coating his cock with wet slapping and sticky echoes. Mig murmurs into your ear.

“Can you feel it? You take cock so well, look at you. You look so pretty getting fucked, hm? Oh, you poor thing.” Mig taunts you, his hands squeezing your breasts in his palms, your nipples and mounds having bite marks all over them. You wail and thrust your hips to meet Miguel's pounding, your cunt squeezing him tightly as you felt the same pressure of your orgasm coming up.

Miguel groans, panting and huffing to keep himself steady while he fucks you. His hand presses down on the bulge in your stomach, feeling his tip slide in and out and poke through your stomach.

For some reason, that was the final push you needed to cum–your pussy clenching and unclenching as you cream and cry around Miguel’s thick girth. Your legs shook in his hands while he rammed into you to prolong your orgasm. He pulled out before he could cum with his teeth clenched tightly while Mig let go of your tits and stood up from the bed. Miguel takes a few deep breaths as he watches you barely recover from your high. His cock was still painfully hard and now glistening with your cum. Your body was bruised– hickeys around your chest from Mig and tiny scratches on your legs and thighs from Miguel’s talons.

Miguel tugs you up and lies you on your stomach so you’re facing the foot of the bed. You feel him tap your thigh. “Knees. C’mon.” He mumbles and you weakly try to lift yourself up but Miguel grows impatient, settling for just picking up your bottom half himself. His calloused hands grip into your plush hips, carrying most of your weight. You see Mig approach where you are and you look up. He smirks down at you and narrows his eyes downward and you follow. You gulp and grab the sheets into your fists when you’re met with the sight of him stroking his cock softly. Your mouth drops open in surprise and you feel your mouth water. His tip was already red and leaking and you’re entranced with the way he rubs his thumb across the head to smear his precum as lube.

His other hand lifts your gaze back up at him with his thumb forcing your lips apart to open them. You blink up at him and his heart skips a beat at how pretty you’ll look with your mouth stuffed with his cock. The redhead looks at his counterpart from behind you, giving him a small nod and he returns one back.

“Be a good girl and open up.” Mig hums and taps his cock to your lips–he’s been waiting for this. You open up and stick your tongue out for him to slide onto. His tip feels heavy as he nudges himself deeper in your warm mouth, his breathing already increasing rapidly. Your lips wrap around his thick cock, nearly hitting his base but enough for the red hair of his pubes to graze your nose. He groans above you, struggling to force you deeper down himself and instead reaches for your hair to grab onto.

You feel Miguel behind you slide his cock back inside you, pushing himself to the hilt where his balls smack your sensitive folds and bumping your forward, making you choke on Mig’s dick. The redhead hisses and grunts, yanking you back. “Be shocking careful.” He growls at Miguel but he ignores him. Miguel’s mind is somewhere else entirely, his eyes haven’t left your ass. He grips each cheek in his hand and bites his bottom lip, his fang piercing the skin for a second.

“Que bonita eres,” Miguel praises, tugging you back against his pelvis and making his cockhead arch up into your sweet spot. You shook and rolled your eyes back, nearly falling apart if it weren’t Mig holding you up. You clamp down on his cock instinctively which makes your boss choke on his gasp.

“Shit–she’s still tight.” Miguel moans, rocking his hips against your ass. “Relájate, mi amor–así, así.”

Your body moves after every push of Miguel’s thrusts–pushing you back and forth on the cock in your cunt and the cock in your mouth simultaneously. Mig moans in turn, the vibration from your own whimpering runs down his length for stimulation. His hand keeps a tight grip in your hair to make sure your head stays up and sucking. You feel your neck strain to look up while both men use your body for their own pleasure.

Sounds of slurping, squelching, and moaning surround the room. You could hear the quiet grunt of Mig while Miguel was a little louder, groaning and muttering things under his breath. You thought for a split second that Miguel was little more rough on you than his counterpart–or maybe it could’ve just been because it’s his first time fucking you. You didn’t care honestly.

You tried to focus on the Miguel in front of you, his dick filling your mouth and his tip occasionally poking the back of your throat and making you tear up. Your tongue swirls around him, gagging a bit and leaving copious amounts of spit on him. You glide your tongue under a throbbing vein of his and he hisses above you, his hand pulling your head forward to take him deeper and slapping his balls on your chin. “Fuck, I should’ve made you do this earlier–” He moans. “Should’ve known those pretty lips would do some good sucking me off.” He thrusts a bit faster and you can practically feel him swell up at the thought.

You moan around him, spit dribbling out your mouth and down your chin. You could taste the new flavor of his salty precum on your taste buds and the natural musk of his cock. Your jaw began to feel sore from being stretched open to accommodate his girth. Mig’s hand tried to shakily push back the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face. “That’s it, gorgeous. You’re doing so good for me. You like that? Feeling full, hm?” He teased, knowing you couldn’t even answer if you tried.

More saliva accumulated inside your mouth and you moaned around him pathetically as your response. You pussy clenched from his teasing which made the brunette behind you groan and pump himself faster inside you. He held your hips tightly going fast and short strokes which increased the sound of skin slapping on skin. You focused your eyes up at the redhead until your eyes widened feeling a hard smack to your ass.

You whined around Mig’s cock, feeling the tears prick in your eyes from pain and pleasure while Miguel behind you left a few more slaps to your ass before squeezing it in his large hand. Mig looked over at his counterpart fucking you from behind, kneading the plump flesh while he bucked wildly like an primal animal. Miguel’s eyes were clouded with raw lust, focusing on the way your ass jiggled and rippled with every pound and slap, how you mewled around his variant’s cock and how your previous orgasm made it so much easier to slip in and out of you.

God, you were perfect, Miguel thought to himself. So desperate and so willing to have not just one of him but two. “So greedy,” He murmured between heavy breaths. “Just had to have two cocks, huh? Just one isn’t enough—couldn’t settle so you wanted me to fuck you, is that it? Needed your boss to cum inside this weeping cunt?” Miguel groaned and lolled his head slightly back while his hips began to speed up. His cock swelled inside you, his balls tightening for release but he held back–just a little longer, it feels too good.

Your eyes rolled back, unable to keep sucking the redhead dick anymore with how their teasing and talking sent you in overdrive. Drool leaked out of you and you felt your pussy gush more juices on him and down your thighs. Mig pats your cheek to wake you up out of your cock-drunk haze.

“Head up, princess. Keep sucking, I’m so close.” He moans, grabbing the back of your head and shoving you up and down on his length.

You were made for this, both Miguel’s decided. You knew just how to please them, your pussy was already carved in the shape of their cocks, your tongue knowing exactly how to suck. Now that they had you, they were never letting go. Maybe there are some things Miguel O’Hara can share.

You weakly went back to sucking Mig off, but he didn’t mind. Just the feeling of your wet warm and drooling mouth was enough to have his cock twitching down your throat.

“Haah, fuck–” The man above moans, gripping your hair tightly in his fists. “Shit, shit–I’m gonna cum.” He whines and tries to pull himself off you but you whimpered and reached out your hand to grab his thigh from moving away. He looks down to see your eyes pleading and begging him.

“You wanna swallow?” He asks between huffs, a smirk slowly curling up. “Alright. I’ll give you what you want, princess.” You closed your eyes, a silent thank you as you tried to properly help him reach his climax and cum in your mouth. Mig closes his eyes and thrusts in abandon, his tip rubbing against the back of your throat and swelling up before releasing in your mouth. You gag a bit, unexpecting so much to come out but you tried swallowing as much of him as you could.

You felt him softening on your tongue while you drank his thick cum, some of it being too much and dribbling down your lips and his length, Your tongue slipped around him to make sure he got his fill before he slid out your lips. A string of his cum and your saliva connecting from his tip to your wet lips. Mig stroked his cock a few more times, the beads of leftover cum spurting from his tip which you happily lapped up with the tip of your tongue.

“Oh, such a good girl.” Mig praises, his thumb cupping your chin to open your mouth to make sure you swallowed everything. You opened up softly, moaning and whimpering freely now that you aren’t hindered by dick down your throat. Mig, now exhausted from cumming, pulled away from you to sit on one of his plush chairs in his bedroom. His chest heaved up and down as he calmed down from his high. Meanwhile, your head fell to rest on the edge of the mattress while Miguel continued to hump you, his cock engorging every second with his own release. Especially with the way you moaned and squealed.

“Tan mojada, tan apretada–ay Dios–por favor, por favor–"Miguel moaned, slurring under his breath while he looked down to watch his dick disappear in your pussy and reappear with an unbelievable amount of wetness. His thrust went out of rhythm, now a desperate attempt to just finish inside you.

“I’m gonna cum inside, okay?” He groans. “Eso se suena bien, mami?” He leans over you to pound his cock in a different spot, his hand coming down to push your head in the mattress. Your cheek is smushed to the side and you can barely see Miguel fucking you from behind but you can feel his hand grab your entire head.

“Uh-huh!” You babble, mouth just being filled and drenched with cum. Miguel sees your eyes half-lidded and rolled back, jaw slack as you spill out moans and more drool with his variants cum drying on your chin and lips.

Miguel lets out a deep growl from his throat as he fastens his pace, his talons pricking your skin around your hip to keep you steady while he uses you. You scream his name, your vision going white and hot with pleasure as you finally reach your orgasm again. You came around him, the sound of wet plaps becoming more prominent as Miguel thrusts his last few times.

Seeing your body go limp and sensitive from just orgasming made his moan in response, his cock twitching wildly before stiffening and shooting his thick load inside you. He painted your insides white, the warmth of it slipping out between him and you from the sheer amount of cum he produced. Miguel continued to slowly pump himself dry, making sure your pussy squeezed every drop he could offer, shuddering when he pulled out of your wet walls to see himself drenched in both your fluids.

Miguel let you go, watching your spent body flop down without the help of him picking you up. It was now more quiet than usual, just the sounds of heavy breathing as you collected yourselves, sweat dripping down everyone’s skin.

Mig smirks lazily from his comfortable plush chair, his cock in his hand and semi-hard from watching you two finish. He glances at Miguel’s glistening cock, also semi-hard just by watching how you glow after cumming.

“I could go another round.” Mig huffs and Miguel turns to him with a tired look but with a speck of lust ignited in them.

You whimpered and shook from the aftershocks of your orgasm still flowing through you. “No…no more. I’m…It’s so sensitive…” You drooled on the sheets, trying to catch your breath and feel the nerves come back to your body.

Miguel looks down at you and nudges your legs apart to see the damage done to your pussy. Swollen and glistening with all types of fluids and cum. He uses his fingers to spread your folds and you twitch and whine weakly, Miguel’s cum oozing out of you. He jams the amount that had leaked out of your back inside with two of his fingers, making you moan. His other hand grabs your ass cheek apart and he grins.

Miguel looks up at his counterpart only to see him with the same toothy smirk. Great minds think alike.

“Well, there is… one hole we haven’t used yet.”

A/N: are u happy to be in paris? :3

To the lovelies that wanted to be tagged <3 🏷

@oscarissac2099 @huniedeux @mcmiracles @gltzpzy @ahano @the-pan-liquid @julian0800 @2099gf @jadeloverxd

feedback appreciated ! plz be nice _(:3」∠)_

[logansdoll]

ivy, l. howlett (3)

you and Scott go after Rogue and Wolverine... but when you return, a familiar face shows up on your doorstep.

CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.

"You look around. I'll check the ticket agent," you told Scott, heading toward the booth.

He gave you a stiff nod, quietly glancing around for any sign of Magneto's disciples.

It didn't come as a surprise when Rogue ran away the next day—and it came as an even less of one when Logan went off after her, despite the professor's instructions.

So you and Scott set off to Grand Central Station in search of the two before they could be taken hostage.

Of course, Scott was less than happy to be there.

Just another mess of Logan's for him to clean up...

'Big baby...'

You were quick to explain the situation once you finally made it to the front of the line.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I need to know if you've seen a young girl pass through here?" you asked, sincerely. 

You just wanted Rogue to be safe.

Scott could get pissy about Logan stealing his bike or going against direction, but at the end of the day she was the priority.

And you weren't going to stop until you found her.

Lord knows you were just like her about ten years ago.

"She's about seventeen. Uh, my height. Has brown hair, and she—"

A loud growl suddenly rumbled from behind, and you turned around, only to be grabbed by the neck and hoisted up by a huge, hairy, blonde man whose nails needed serious trimming.

"Sabretooth... I take it?" you rasped, your hands coming up to grab at his in an attempt to pull him off.

But he let out a roar, roughly pulling you closer, his hot breath fanning over your face.

"Scream for me," he snarled.

Looking past him, you saw Scott storming over, about to help, when a yellow skinned man hanging off the ceiling suddenly stuck out his long tongue, whipping Scott's glasses of his face and forcing him to burn a gigantic hole into the roof.

Using the seeds in your pocket, you shot out a gigantic stalk of bamboo, ramming him through a wall and into the next room, sending rubble flying everywhere.

Dropping to the ground, you let out a gasp of relief, clutching your throat.

'This is day two... I get choked again... someone's dying.'

"You said he wanted me," Logan glared, aggressively grabbing his jacket.

"I made a terrible mistake," Xavier admitted, thoroughly disappointed in himself. "His helmet was somehow designed to block my telepathy. I couldn't see what he was after until it was too late."

Face taut, Logan stormed toward the exit of his room, shoving his arm through the sleeve.

"Where are you going?" you asked, brows furrowed.

"I'm gonna find her."

"How?" Xavier turned to him.

"The traditional way: look," he spat, striding out the the door.

Quickly, you turned to the professor, and he gave you a nod of approval, already aware of your question.

Though, if you were being honest, you would've done it anyway.

"Logan," you called, following him out the hall and down the steps. "You can't do this alone."

"Who's gonna help me? You?" he scoffed, eyes focused ahead as he started toward the exit. "So far you've all done a bang-up job."

"Then help us. Fight with us," you pressed on, closing in on him.

Suddenly, he stopped, turning around so fast you nearly crashed into his chest.

"Fight with you?" he growled, voice low and face only a few inches from yours. "What, join the team? Be an X-man?"

You stood firm despite his mockery, eyes searching his for what he truly felt.

Yet all you found was pain, guilt, and self-loathing.

He blamed himself for Rogue's kidnapping, and was lashing out from a place of hurt.

So you wouldn't take it personal.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You're a mutant. The whole world out there is full of people that hate and fear you. And you're wasting your time tryna protect them," he shook his head. "I got better things to do."

He walked off again, but suddenly stopped, turning to face you once more.

"Y'know, Magneto's right. There's a war coming," he stated. "Are you sure you're on the right side?"

"At least I've chosen a side."

The words slightly stung, and he gave you a look as he opened the door, only to be met by Senator Kelly.

The driving force of the Mutant Registration Program.

Only now he looked like shit, sweaty and clammy and out of breath.

"I'm looking... for Dr. (y/n) (l/n)," he panted, weakly.

Suddenly, his legs gave out, and he fell forward into Logan's arms, unconscious.

"Bring him to my lab. Quick," you ordered, turning around and heading for the lower levels.

'Never a dull moment...'

"Senator Kelly," Xavier started, leaning a little closer, "I'm Professor Charles Xavier."

The senator was laying on your operating table, hooked up to several machines in order to keep his condition stable.

Though it was truly anything but that.

"I was afraid if I went to a hospital, they would—" "Treat you like a mutant?"

The professor shook his head, reassuringly.

"We're not all what you think... not all of us."

"Tell it to the ones who did this to me."

Xavier sighed, wheeling his chair around to the tip of the table, where Kelly's head rested.

"Senator," the professor rested his hands against the man's temples. "I want you to relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

He took a moment, sifting through Kelly's memories to find out exactly what happened.

And when he did, it was evident on Charles's face that it did not bode well.

Quickly, he turned around, Logan following him down the hall where Scott and Ororo waited, while you stayed with the senator.

In the meeting...

"The machine emits radiation that triggers mutation in ordinary human beings," he started, the news thoroughly worrying him. "But the mutation is unnatural. (y/n)'s already deduced Kelly's body is rejecting it. His cells show signs of significant degeneration."

"What effect does radiation have on mutants?" Scott asked, turning to the professor.

"There appears to be none. But I fear it will seriously harm any normal person exposed to it," he answered.

"So what does Magneto want with Rogue?" Logan chimed from his spot against the wall.

Xavier hung his head, "I don't know."

That was all he needed to hear.

Logan didn't give a shit about some senator—Kelly made it abundantly clear he didn't give a shit about mutants—so he wasn't gonna sit around and play doctor for him.

One less human to worry about.

"Wait a second," Scott realized. "You said this machine draws energy from Magneto, and that it weakened him."

"Yes," the professor confirmed, slowly beginning to realize. "In fact, it nearly killed him."

Wait a minute...

'Oh, shit.'

"He's gonna transfer his power to Rogue, and use her to power the machine."

In the lab...

"Is somebody there?" Senator Kelly rasped, his hand weakly reaching out toward the darkness.

"Yes," you answered, quickly heading over. "I'm here."

The moment you arrived at his bedside, his cold, clammy hand grabbed your arm, frantically.

"Please don't leave me," he heaved, pleadingly. "Don't wanna be alone."

You looked down at him, eyes saddened by his sorry state.

His veins were dark and bulging painfully against his skin, and he was covered in an ungodly amount of sweat.

Or, at least, what you thought to be sweat.

Though you were quickly starting to realize that he was liquefying right before your eyes.

"All right," you nodded, softly.

Water was leaving him at a steady trickle, and you knew he had only a few minutes, if not moments, left to live.

"Do you hate normal people?" he suddenly asked, voice distant.

And for a man on his deathbed, you answered honestly.

"Sometimes..."

"Why?"

Now that took a little more thought.

"I guess... I'm afraid of them."

He smiled, reassuringly, "Well... I think you have one... less person to be afraid of."

And before you could respond, he gasped, suddenly choking on his own throat as it began to turn into water.

Your eyes shot wide, and you looked down at his hand, only to liquidize right in your grasp, splashing water everywhere.

Snapping your head back to him, you watched as the rest of his organs and bodily fluids devolved into water, until it all finally burst, leaving nothing of him to remain.

'Professor! Now!'

Quickly, you turned around, sprinting out the door and down the hall toward where they were having their meeting.

Once you made it to the door, you barged in, interrupting a Logan-Scott argument.

"Senator Kelly is dead," you stated, seriously.

"I am going to find her," Xavier turned to the rest of you, face taut.

All bets were off now—there was no holding back.

"Let's settle this."

[sturnioz]

i need shy!reader giving frat!matt head !!!

you try to get comfortable in your position as you kneel between matt's parted legs, your eyes wide with nerves and anxiety as you glance between his face and his cock thats wrapped between your fingers, your lips parting in a silent plea for his reassurance or order.

matt grins, a joint hanging from his lips as his hand reaches out to affectionately smooth the top of your head. "s'okay.. know this is new f'you, but i need you to relax, yeah?"

you nod your head slowly, wetting your lips as you lean forwards, your tongue darting out to tentatively lick at the tip of his cock before taking the head into your mouth, nervously suckling at the tip.

matt groans softly as he leans back on one hand against the bed, closing his eyes momentarily as he savours the feeling of the warmth of your mouth around his cock.

"thats it... jus' like that, sweetheart." he encourages you, and you feel your heart flutter at his tone. "keep going f'me. take it deeper — slowly."

you nod before pushing your head down more, feeling matt's thick cock stretching your lips and your throat, the pressure mounting with each attempt to try and take him deeper.

a muffled gagging sound escapes you as you struggle to fit him in, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and matts hand immediately reaches down to grip your hair, pulling you off his cock as you splutter through coughs.

"hey," he chides. "i said slowly, yeah?"

"s-sorry," you apologise through stutters, a trembling hand reaching up to wipe the drool and spit from your lips.

"don't apologise. just take it easy."

you nod your head again, swallowing hard as you try to regain your composure before deeply exhaling and resuming your efforts, swirling your tongue around his tip before sinking down once more, this time moving at a slow pace.

"there we go.." matt hums, taking a hit off his joint before leaning over and placing it in the ashtray, blowing out the smoke as he watches you carefully.

your wrap your hand what you struggle to take into your mouth, stroking him slowly while your mouth works on him, the salty sweetness taste filling your senses. the sounds of his grunts is what fuels you to keep going — to earn his praise and to prove something to him.

you pull back slowly, allowing your saliva to coat his cock like you once seen in a video before moving back down, hallowing your cheeks hard enough as you possibly can around him to elicit a guttural growl from matt.

"fuuuck.." he mutters under his breath, hissing through his teeth as his hips twitch. "good girl... doin' so good f'me"

matt's breathing becomes a little ragged, rocking his hips subtly into your mouth as he feels himself teetering over the edge, his balls tightening and he looks down at you, meeting your watery eyes as you're already staring up at him.

"m'gonna cum," he warns you. "but m'gonna cum down your throat, a'ight? 'n you're gonna take it f'me, yeah?"

you hum around in cock in response, wanting nothing more than to please him and make him proud, silently promising to swallow every last drop he's prepared to give you and matt grins sluggishly, reaching down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead as a thank you before he spills into your mouth, warm and thick spurts coating your tongue and filling your mouth quickly.

you struggle to swallow, your throat muscles clenching around him as his cum shoots down the back of your throat, and you gag a little, but you try your best as always despite some trickling down your chin, creating a little mess.

matt gently cups your face to pull you off his cock when his orgasm subsides, wiping away the drops of cum from your chin with his thumb, grinning down at you as he strokes your cheek.

"y'did so good, sweetheart.." he murmurs softly, leaning down to press another chaste kiss to your forehead like he had done prior, and a shy smile spreads across your lips, warmth filling your chest at his praise as you nuzzle into his palm contently.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Something's Gotta Give

Summary: Chip hitchhikes his way away from where his life fell apart. He meets a beautiful woman, you, and his brain, once again, becomes a potato.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+), angst

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, mentions of what happened in 68-kill, insecurities, jealousy, boss/employee relationship, happy ending

Word count: 18.7k

a/n: i love me some spencer reid but chip taylor is sooo pathetic it just gets me going

main masterlist

Additional warnings: unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it), oral (m receiving), mild consensual degradation

28-year-old Chip Taylor was a mess, to put it simply. After narrowly escaping the chaos of Louisiana, he drove as far as he could on what little gas money he had, before resorting to hitchhiking. His path was aimless, following wherever someone would take him, until he somehow ended up in Colorado. In Aurora, he found a shelter where he could sleep while he searched for a job.

Now, with his face healed and dressed in some half-decent clothes—no longer stained with blood—Chip wandered the streets of Aurora, unsure of what his next move would be, but grateful for the temporary calm.

Chip quickly discovered that his search for work wasn’t going to be as simple as he’d hoped. Every place he walked into seemed to size him up before kindly, but firmly, turning him away. His stomach sank a little more with each rejection, though he tried to brush it off and keep moving forward.

At a diner, the older woman behind the counter smiled apologetically, her eyes flicking over his application. “I’m sorry, hon. We’re really looking for someone with experience in the kitchen. It’s just so busy around here, you know? Best of luck, though.”

Chip nodded, his heart sinking, but he mustered a smile. “Thanks, I understand.”

At a hardware store, the manager gave him a once-over, scratching his chin. “You ever worked with tools before? We need someone who knows their way around equipment, construction, that kind of thing.”

Chip shook his head, feeling the weight of his own uselessness. “No, but I can learn fast.”

The man offered a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sure you can, but we need someone who can hit the ground running. Sorry, pal.”

Even the local gas station didn’t seem to have room for him. The young guy at the counter barely looked up from his phone as he spoke. “Yeah, we’re fully staffed right now. You could leave your number, but… I wouldn’t count on anything soon.”

Chip stood there for a moment, the rejection almost stinging more because of how little the guy cared. He turned away without leaving his number.

By the time the sun began to set, Chip was exhausted from walking up and down the streets of Aurora, facing rejection after rejection. His new clothes felt heavier with every polite smile and apologetic glance, and he wondered how much longer he could keep this up.

Chip wandered across the neon-lit streets, his eyes catching the glow from a sign that cast an inviting red hue over the sidewalk. He stopped to take it in: Lovers of Today. The name was bold, practically daring someone like him to step inside and forget his troubles for a while.

He didn’t have a cent to his name, but at least he could probably score a glass of water, and the idea of sitting somewhere that wasn’t a shelter felt like a brief escape.

As he pushed the door open, the warmth of the dive bar’s dim lighting greeted him. The red neon heart in the window flickered, casting playful shadows on the walls. The smell of old wood, cigarette smoke, and stale beer hung in the air, but Chip didn’t mind. It was a welcome change from the streets outside.

He plopped down on a worn stool at the bar, letting out a soft sigh of relief as he surveyed the room. The bar was cluttered but lively, bottles lined up with care, their glass shimmering under the soft red glow. Music hummed low in the background, a melancholic tune that fit the slow pulse of the room. A man played pool in the back, his movements lazy and unhurried, while a few scattered patrons sat at tables, lost in their own thoughts.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” A melodic voice pulled Chip from his thoughts, snapping him back to reality.

He turned to face the bartender, and for a moment, his brain seemed to short-circuit. There she was—easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. That realization sent a jolt of fear through him, more intense than any excitement he might have felt. Her soft, playful smile made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

You noticed his hesitation, his wide-eyed look, and leaned forward slightly, tilting your head. “…Can I get you anything?” you asked again, this time with a bit of a laugh in your voice, clearly entertained by his flustered state.

“Uh—um, yeah, just a water?” Chip finally managed, though he cursed himself for sounding so awkward.

You smiled, the amusement twinkling in your eyes. “Sure thing, sugar,” you replied, effortlessly cool as you turned to get his drink, leaving Chip to collect his scattered thoughts.

You placed the glass down in front of him with another smile. “Here you go.”

“Th-thanks,” Chip stammered, looking up at you with wide, innocent eyes, his nerves getting the better of him.

You winked, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, before turning to tend to your other customers. Chip couldn’t help himself—he leaned up slightly, watching you as you bent down to grab a beer from the fridge. His eyes lingered on your curves, his mind briefly distracted from the pit of anxiety that had been gnawing at him all day.

After you served the other patrons, you made your way back to the bar, your eyes flicking over the handsome, if not charmingly pathetic, man in front of you. His awkwardness was almost endearing.

“Anything else?” you asked, putting away freshly cleaned glasses.

“No, just water is fine,” Chip said, though the way he gulped and avoided looking at how your top clung to your chest told you he was flustered.

You sighed softly, setting down the glass you’d been holding. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You look like you’ve had a tough day.”

Chip’s shoulders slumped as he exhaled heavily, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “Yeah. I have, but I, uh… I don’t really have any money on me.”

You nodded thoughtfully, your gaze softening with understanding. “I see…” You turned around, and Chip’s heart sank, deflating even more as he stared at his water. He really was such a loser.

But then you spun back toward him, setting a nice cold beer in front of him with a wink. “It’s on the house, sugar,” you said, your smile making the tension in Chip’s chest ease just a little. “In exchange, you can tell me what’s got you so down?”

Chip blinked at the beer, surprised by the unexpected kindness. His lips twitched into a small, grateful smile as he glanced up at you. 

“Really? You want to hear about my day?” Chip asked, a bit incredulous, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. He wasn’t used to someone actually wanting to listen, especially not someone like you.

“Yeah,” you replied, offering a sweet smile that seemed to melt away some of the guardedness he’d been holding onto. “Tell me what’s got you so down.”

For a moment, Chip hesitated. Part of him wondered if he should just shrug it off, make something up, or dodge the question entirely. He couldn’t exactly spill everything—the illegal activities, the women, and all the madness that led to his escape from Louisiana. That was a story no one needed to hear. But maybe he could share the rest of it, the overwhelming feeling of being lost, broken, and more useless than ever.

“Well,” he began, keeping his gaze on the beer in front of him, fingers tracing the rim of the bottle. “It’s been a rough few weeks, to be honest. I, uh, kinda lost everything back home. Decided to leave, and… here I am, trying to start fresh, I guess.”

He took a sip of the beer, the cold liquid soothing his parched throat. “I thought I’d find a job, but, you know, turns out I’m not exactly qualified for… well, anything. Been walking all over town getting turned away.”

You leaned in a little, listening intently, your face soft with empathy. He glanced at you nervously, his words fumbling but flowing now that the gates had cracked open.

“I don’t know, it’s just… I keep messing up, everywhere I go. Feels like I can’t catch a break.” He paused, staring into his beer again, his voice lowering. “Feels like maybe I don’t deserve one.”

You frowned slightly, your heart tugged by the self-deprecating tone in his voice. “Hey,” you said, your voice kind but firm, “don’t say that. We all have rough patches. It doesn’t mean you’re not worth something. It just means things are tough right now. Doesn’t mean it’ll always be that way.”

Chip looked up at you, surprised by the sincerity in your voice. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t expected kindness from anyone, much less a stranger. His lips twitched into a faint smile, the first real one he’d felt in days.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, genuinely. “I needed to hear that.”

You smiled at him again, that same warm and genuine expression softening your features. “Anytime, sugar.” A slight pause lingered between you before you leaned in just a bit, voice dropping to a playful tone. “Tell me though, do you have any experience bartending?”

Chip shook his head quickly, a little embarrassed. “No, not really,” he admitted, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Hmm… are you strong?” you giggled, clearly having some fun with him.

Chip instinctively looked down at his arms, making you swoon just a bit as the way his muscles strained against the fabric of his sleeves caught your eye.

“I guess?” he said, though his voice carried uncertainty, like he wasn’t sure if he should be bragging.

You laughed softly. “Do you scare easily?”

“Uhhh…” Chip blinked, clearly unsure how to answer that, given everything he’d been through recently.

“Do you think you could be a bouncer?” you asked, leaning forward a little more. “Kick people out for being assholes?”

His brow furrowed slightly. “What are you asking?”

“I’m trying to offer you a job here,” you said with a smile, your words hanging in the air like an unexpected lifeline.

Chip’s eyes widened in surprise, his breath catching in his throat. “A job? Here?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had walked in hoping for nothing more than a glass of water, and now here you were, offering him a shot at something better.

You nodded, your expression kind but still playful. “Yeah, I need someone to keep an eye on things. It’s a dive bar, after all, and we get our fair share of rowdy customers. Plus, it’d be nice to have a strong pair of arms around, don’t you think?”

Chip felt a wave of relief mixed with cautious optimism wash over him. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but it was a start. A chance. And right now, that was all he needed.

“I—yeah. I could do that,” he said, his voice steadier now. “I mean, I’ll do my best.”

You grinned, clearly pleased with his answer. “That’s all I’m asking, sugar. Can you start tomorrow?”

Chip stared at you in disbelief, unable to suppress the small, hopeful smile forming on his lips as he nodded. Maybe, just maybe, this was the break he’d been waiting for.

That night, Chip walked back to the shelter with a smile tugging at his lips, something that had been a rare visitor in recent weeks. The cool night air felt refreshing against his skin as he moved through the dimly lit streets of Aurora, replaying the events of the evening in his head. He couldn’t quite believe it—after days of dead-end rejections, here he was with a job offer. 

And it wasn’t just any job; it was from you. A beautiful, confident woman who had seemed to see something in him, even when he wasn’t sure what he had left to offer. Your kindness had caught him off guard, leaving him feeling a mix of gratitude and something he couldn’t quite place—maybe hope? It had been so long since he’d felt even a flicker of optimism.

But as much as he tried to bask in the good fortune of the moment, there was a nagging feeling creeping at the edges of his mind. Ominous, maybe. It felt almost too lucky to have met you and been offered a job so quickly. Nothing in his life had ever come easy, and now that something finally had, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a catch. 

Still, for now, Chip allowed himself to enjoy the victory. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his mind wandering to what tomorrow might bring. It wasn’t much—a job as a bouncer at a dive bar—but it was something. It was a start. Maybe he could pull his life together after all.

As he neared the shelter, his smile widened just a bit, despite that faint feeling of unease lingering in the back of his mind. For the first time in a long time, he had something to look forward to.

—

The next day, Chip walked into the bar, nerves buzzing in his chest as he stepped through the doors of Lovers of Today for his first day. The place was quieter now, with the neon signs flickering softly, casting their warm red glow over the room. Behind the counter, there you were again, moving gracefully as you set up for the night. Your presence instantly caught his eye, and before he knew it, that same anxious excitement was bubbling up inside him.

You looked up when he entered, smiling sweetly in his direction. “Hey there, sugar! Glad you made it,” you said, your voice warm and welcoming.

Chip swallowed, nodding as he approached the bar. “Yeah, of course,” he replied, his hands already feeling clammy with anticipation. He’d thought about this moment all night, and now that he was here, standing in front of you again, he felt even more flustered than before.

You gestured for him to come closer, pulling him next to you behind the bar. "Alright, so here's the rundown," you began, your tone casual but professional. You started explaining the basics of what you expected from him—keeping an eye on the patrons, making sure things didn’t get out of hand, and if someone got too rowdy, he'd be the one to step in.

But as you talked, Chip found it harder and harder to focus. You were standing so close that he could catch the faint, intoxicating scent of your perfume. It wasn’t overpowering, just enough to make his head spin a little, like a soft whisper of musk and something sweet that lingered in the air. The way you moved, the subtle brush of your arm against his as you pointed things out, made his concentration slip further.

“So, if someone refuses to pay or starts causing trouble…” you continued, but Chip’s attention wavered as his eyes darted to your lips when you spoke, then back to the glass you were polishing.

He blinked, snapping himself out of his haze for a moment. “Right, uh, got it,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure if he had actually retained anything useful. His heart was pounding, but not from nerves about the job. No, this was something else entirely—something about you had his pulse racing.

You paused, tilting your head slightly, a knowing glimmer in your eyes as you glanced at him. "You listening, Chip? Or am I gonna have to repeat myself?"

“Sorry,” Chip stammered, embarrassed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m listening. Just—uh—it’s a lot to take in, I guess.”

You chuckled softly, leaning just a little closer. “It’s okay, sugar. You’ll get the hang of it. Just focus on keeping things calm, and don’t worry, I’ll be here if you need help.”

Chip nodded, forcing himself to concentrate, but the scent of you, the warmth of your presence, made it feel like the room was spinning just a bit. He knew he had to pull it together—he couldn’t let his head get lost every time he was around you. But right now, standing next to you, it was harder than he’d ever imagined.

Chip’s first night went off without a hitch. The bar’s steady rhythm felt almost soothing to him, and by the time his second week rolled around, he had settled into a routine. He’d met the other bartenders and bouncers, learned the ins and outs of the place, and even found himself relaxing a little more with each shift. Nothing too wild had happened yet—just the usual drunken antics that were easily manageable.

That was, until that one night.

It started out like any other, the low hum of conversations mixing with the clinking of glasses and the soft pulse of music in the background. Chip had been stationed near the entrance, keeping an eye on things, when the commotion began. At first, it was just muffled noise, some guy raising his voice near the bar. But then Chip heard your voice, calm but firm, cutting through the clamor.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t serve you anymore,” you said, keeping your cool as you leaned against the bar. “You’ve had enough for the night.”

That’s when the man—clearly drunk, clearly angry—decided to escalate things. His voice grew louder, slurred words laced with irritation. “You can’t cut me off, bitch! I paid good money, and I’m not done drinking!”

Chip’s body tensed as he watched from a distance, the sudden surge of protectiveness coursing through him. He felt his heart rate pick up as the drunk man leaned closer to you, his gestures growing more aggressive. Chip knew he had to step in. He had to protect you. 

No, he reminded himself, forcing his mind to stay clear. Protect the bar. That’s your job. But despite the internal reminder, the thought of someone yelling at you, someone daring to treat you like that, sent a surge of adrenaline through his veins.

He moved quickly, weaving through the tables and patrons until he was by your side. The drunk man was still fuming, his face red and twisted in frustration. Chip didn’t wait for an invitation.

“Hey,” Chip said, his voice low but firm, stepping between you and the man. “You need to calm down.”

The drunk guy’s eyes flicked toward Chip, sizing him up, before he sneered. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the guy telling you to leave,” Chip responded, standing his ground. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his voice steady, refusing to let the guy see any hesitation. “You’ve had enough. Time to go.”

The man puffed up his chest, clearly not interested in backing down. “I paid for my damn drinks!”

“You paid,” Chip agreed, “and now you’re done. Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be.” He subtly shifted his stance, ready to intervene if the guy got any more aggressive.

For a moment, the man looked like he might push his luck, but then he glanced around the bar. Eyes were starting to turn his way. The whole scene had drawn enough attention that even he seemed to realize he wasn’t going to win this one.

With a final curse under his breath, the man shoved his stool back and stumbled toward the door. Chip kept an eye on him until he was out of sight, his muscles still tense and ready, just in case.

Once the man was gone, Chip let out a slow breath, the adrenaline ebbing away. He turned to you, still feeling the lingering need to make sure you were okay.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You smiled at him, clearly impressed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Chip.”

Chip couldn’t help the small, sheepish smile that crossed his face. “Just doing my job.”

“Still,” you said, leaning against the bar, your eyes softening a bit as you looked at him. “I appreciate it, sweetheart.”

And just like that, all the tension that had built up in Chip’s body melted away, replaced with something else. A warmth, a quiet sense of accomplishment, knowing that he had done what he needed to do—both for the bar and for you.

—

Chip Taylor was no stranger to unhealthy obsessions. His life had been a series of poor decisions and misplaced emotions, but this—this crush, or what he feared had crossed into love—was different. It was deeper, more consuming, and incredibly stupid. He wanted to believe he was incapable of falling in love after only knowing you for a month. And not just any person, but his boss. Yet here he was, his heart doing that dumb little flip every time you smiled at him, and he hated himself for it.

But what was he supposed to do? You were everything. Kind, charismatic, caring, brilliant, sexy, funny, and nonjudgmental. It wasn’t like you were just some passing fancy. You had given him a chance when no one else would. You made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t doomed to be the screw-up he’d always been. And when you found out he was living in a shelter, you didn’t blink before offering him your guest room. Free of charge.

Chip had spent a lot of nights staring at the ceiling in that guest room, wondering how the hell he ended up in the presence of someone like you. With the kind of karma he had, he should’ve ended up with someone cold, manipulative, and cruel. But instead, there you were, offering kindness he didn’t think he deserved.

But that’s where the crush—no, love—came back to bite him. It was suffocating, this unspoken feeling gnawing at him every time you were near. The worst part? He had to watch night after night as men, women, and everyone in between flirted with you. It wasn’t like he could blame them. You were magnetic. You usually laughed off the flirtations with that casual grace you had, deflecting like a pro.

But tonight… tonight was different.

There was someone—a very attractive person who seemed to catch your eye. Chip had been half-watching from his usual spot near the entrance when he noticed it. The way you drifted toward this stranger more than once. The way your laughter was a bit more genuine, your eyes a little brighter. And then you touched their arm, leaning in closer to hear whatever charming thing they were saying.

Chip felt the sharp pang of jealousy twist inside him, the kind that makes your stomach drop and your chest ache. His grip tightened on the back of the barstool, the wood creaking under his hands as he watched the interaction unfold. He knew he was neglecting his job, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you and that person.

It was like a slow-motion train wreck in his head. His heart clenched with every laugh you shared, every glance you shot their way. And when you touched their arm, a part of him shattered. The universe, it seemed, had a sick sense of humor.

Of course you didn’t feel the same way about him. Why would you? He was just Chip. The guy who wandered into your bar broke, desperate, and hopeless. The guy you’d kindly helped, but that didn’t mean you saw him that way. No, his karmic retribution had arrived in the form of the most amazing person he’d ever met being deposited into his life—but only so he could feel the crushing weight of wanting something he could never have.

Chip stared bitterly as you continued to smile at the stranger, his heart sinking deeper with every moment. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, cursing the universe for dangling you in front of him like a cruel joke.

Good one, universe, he thought bitterly to himself, his hands still gripping the stool as if it could keep him grounded. Real good one.

He looked away, but the ache in his chest remained. It wasn’t fair. None of this was.

As closing time rolled around, Chip’s bitterness hadn’t faded. If anything, it had intensified, simmering under the surface as he quietly went about his tasks. His mind was still replaying the way you had laughed, the way you had touched that stranger’s arm, and it stung more than he wanted to admit.

Conor, one of the other bartenders, smirked as they wiped down the counter, throwing a teasing glance your way. “You gonna let that beautiful thing take you out, boss?” They shimmied their shoulders, their grin wide and playful.

Cody, who had known you longer, joined in with a chuckle. “Yeah, girl, it’s been way too long. You should go out! You never do.”

Chip’s stomach twisted into knots as he listened, pretending to focus on stacking the chairs, though he could hear every word. His heart braced for what he expected to hear next—how excited you were, how you couldn’t wait to go on this date with the person who had flirted with you all night.

He could almost hear it now: your voice light, maybe even a little giddy, as you talked about how charming they were, how nice it would be to go out with someone after so long.

He clenched his jaw, feeling the anticipation of heartbreak wash over him as he steeled himself for the worst.

But then you laughed—soft and genuine, but not in the way Chip had feared. “Oh, please,” you said, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “You both know I’m not looking to go on dates.”

Conor raised an eyebrow, still teasing. “Oh, come on. They were totally into you! You’re really just gonna let that walk away?”

You shrugged, nonchalant. “Yeah, I’m really just gonna let that walk away. It’s not my thing right now.”

Cody shook their head with a smile, but didn’t push it further. “Well, alright, if you say so.”

Chip, who had been silently bracing for a different outcome, felt the tension in his chest ease ever so slightly. He hadn’t realized how tightly wound he’d been, how much he had feared hearing you talk about someone else with excitement.

You weren’t going on a date. You weren’t interested in that person, after all.

But then again… you weren’t interested in anyone. Not them. And definitely not him.

His relief was short-lived, replaced by the sinking realization that while you weren’t swooning over anyone else, it didn’t mean you felt anything for him either. He was still just your employee. A friend, maybe. But not anything more.

He finished stacking the chairs, his thoughts still tangled, trying to come to terms with the bittersweet mix of emotions swirling in his mind.

—

It was the middle of another shift, the bar alive with the usual chatter and clinking glasses, but Chip’s mind was far from the job. He was distracted—more than distracted. His thoughts kept looping back to you, the strangers who flirted with you, and the nagging ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away. 

He’d been on autopilot for most of the night, his interactions with customers robotic, his movements stiff. Conor, ever the observant one, had noticed.

“Hey, man,” Conor said during a rare lull, when they were both by the back counter. They leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, eyeing Chip curiously. “You’ve been off lately. What’s going on with you?”

Chip froze for a moment, his mind scrambling for a response. “I’m fine,” he muttered, glancing away and hoping Conor would drop it. 

But Conor wasn’t one to let things slide so easily. They tilted their head, narrowing their eyes. “Bullshit. You’ve been acting weird for days. Is it the job? Or… something else?”

Chip sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of the question pressing down on him. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to say it out loud because that would make it real, and the last thing he needed was more complications.

“It’s nothing,” he tried again, though his voice lacked conviction.

Conor wasn’t buying it. “Dude, we work together, like, every night. I know when something’s up. Come on, what is it? You’ve been looking like a kicked puppy for days.”

Chip hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek as he weighed whether to say anything. But the more he tried to hold it in, the more it gnawed at him, until he couldn’t keep it inside anymore.

“It’s… it’s her,” Chip finally admitted, his voice low, almost ashamed. He glanced toward the bar, where you were laughing with a regular, completely oblivious to the conversation happening in the back.

Conor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Her? You mean… Y/N… the boss?” They glanced at you, then back at Chip, their expression a mix of curiosity and something else—concern, maybe. 

Chip nodded, running a hand over his face, feeling like an idiot for even saying it out loud. “Yeah. I know it’s stupid. I know I shouldn’t—she’s my boss. But I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s… it’s driving me crazy.”

Conor’s expression softened, and they let out a low whistle. “Ah, man. That’s rough.”

Chip scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, tell me about it. It’s not like she’d ever go for someone like me anyway. I mean, look at her—she’s amazing. I’m just the guy she took pity on.”

Conor took a moment, looking thoughtful before they spoke again. “Look, man. I’m not gonna say it’s not complicated. She is your boss, and that makes things tricky. But…” They paused, leaning in a bit. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.”

Chip blinked, not expecting that. “What do you mean?”

Conor shrugged. “You’re not just some random guy, Chip. You’ve been here for a while now, and she clearly cares about you. I see the way she talks to you—it’s not the same as the way she talks to everyone else.”

Chip frowned, trying to process what Conor was saying. “You really think so?”

Conor nodded. “Yeah, I do. But you’ve gotta be careful. If you’re really into her, you can’t just keep bottling it up like this. It’ll mess with your head. Maybe it’s time to feel her out—see if she’d ever be interested in someone like you. Just… be subtle. Tread carefully.”

Chip’s heart raced at the thought. The idea of making his feelings known, even subtly, terrified him. But Conor’s words sparked a tiny flicker of hope that he hadn’t let himself feel before. 

“What if she’s not?” Chip asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the fear of rejection creeping in. 

Conor gave him a sympathetic look. “Then you know, and you can move on. But if you don’t at least try, you’re gonna drive yourself insane wondering ‘what if.’”

Chip mulled that over for a moment, glancing at you again as you poured drinks, completely unaware of the storm raging in his head. Conor was right—he couldn’t keep going like this, silently pining, letting it eat him alive. He had to do something, or the weight of it would crush him.

“Maybe,” Chip muttered, half to himself. “Maybe I will.”

Conor clapped him on the shoulder, offering a reassuring grin. “That’s the spirit. Just… don’t be a dumbass about it, okay?”

Chip chuckled softly, despite the turmoil in his chest. “I’ll try not to.”

As Conor wandered back to the front, Chip remained by the counter, his thoughts swirling. The idea of letting you in on his feelings terrified him, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance. And for the first time, Chip allowed himself to think that maybe he wasn’t completely out of your league.

The only question now was when—and how—to take that terrifying first step.

—

The night had been rough—one of those nights where everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. Rowdy customers, spilled drinks, broken glasses, and more than one argument that had to be diffused before it turned into something worse. By the time the last patron staggered out the door, the bar felt like a battlefield, and the two of you were left with the aftermath.

Chip glanced over at you as you wiped down the bar, noticing how much more subdued you were than usual. The playful energy you typically carried with you seemed drained, replaced by exhaustion that tugged at your features. You didn’t say anything at first, just sighed deeply, letting out a breath that seemed to carry the weight of the night with it.

“Man, sometimes this job really wears you down,” you muttered, your voice tired, your shoulders slumping slightly as you leaned against the bar.

Chip hesitated, watching you, feeling that tug inside him again—an overwhelming need to comfort you, to say something that might make you feel better. He’d been watching you all night, seeing how you held it together even when things got chaotic, but now that the crowd was gone, you looked more vulnerable than he’d ever seen you.

“You’re amazing at what you do,” Chip said quietly, stepping a little closer, his voice soft but sincere. “Don’t let nights like this get to you.”

You glanced at him, a small, tired smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Thanks, Chip. I try, but… it’s hard sometimes, you know?”

He nodded, unsure what to say next but wanting to fill the silence, to keep the moment from slipping away. The air between you felt different—quieter, more intimate, like the walls around both of you had come down just a little.

You sighed again, setting down the rag you’d been using to clean the counter. “I guess nights like this remind me why I don’t… go out much. Or really have a life. It’s just too much sometimes, trying to balance everything. Running this place, taking care of everyone, making sure things don’t fall apart.”

Chip blinked, taken aback by how candid you were being. He’d never heard you talk like this before. Usually, you were so in control, so confident, like nothing could rattle you. But now, standing here in the quiet aftermath of a long night, you seemed… tired. Maybe even a little lonely.

You leaned against the bar, your gaze softening as you stared at the worn wood beneath your hands. “I spend so much time here, making sure everything’s running smoothly, making sure everyone’s taken care of, that there’s just… not a lot of room left for anything else.”

Chip swallowed, his chest tightening at your words. He had wondered before why you never seemed interested in the flirtations that came your way, why you brushed off attention so easily. Now, it made sense. You weren’t uninterested in romance—you were just too busy being everything to everyone else.

“I didn’t know,” Chip said, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. “I guess I never thought about how much you have on your plate.”

You smiled, a little sad but genuine. “Yeah, well, that’s the life, right? Someone’s gotta keep this place going. And I guess I’m just used to taking care of people. I don’t mind it… but it doesn’t leave much room for… other stuff.”

Chip stood there, the weight of your words settling over him. He felt a pang of guilt for all the times he’d watched you flirt with customers and felt jealousy burn inside him. He hadn’t understood before—hadn’t realized how much you were carrying, how much you were sacrificing to keep things together.

But now, in this quiet moment, he saw you differently. Not just as the confident, flirtatious bartender who always had a smile and a witty remark, but as someone who was just as vulnerable, just as human, as anyone else. Someone who gave so much of themselves that there wasn’t much left over.

The silence between you stretched on for a moment, comfortable and filled with unspoken understanding. Chip didn’t know what to say, how to fix the exhaustion he saw in your eyes, but he wanted to offer something, anything, to let you know you weren’t alone.

“You’re really good at taking care of people,” he said softly. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself too.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and for a brief second, something passed between you—a quiet, shared moment that neither of you had expected. You smiled, a real smile this time, one that made Chip’s heart stutter in his chest.

“Thanks, Chip,” you said, your voice gentle, and there was something different in the way you looked at him now, something softer. “I mean it.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to say anything more, afraid of ruining the fragile connection that had just been made. He didn’t know what this moment meant—whether it changed anything between you, whether it was just a fleeting glimpse of something deeper—but it felt important.

As you both finished cleaning up, the bar seemed quieter than usual, the air between you charged with a subtle, unspoken shift. Chip walked out that night feeling closer to you than he ever had before, even if he still wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings tangled up inside him.

He felt like maybe you saw him, not just as an employee or a friend, but as someone who might be able to share a little bit of that weight you carried.

—

Chip got to work the next day extra early, sneaking into the bar while you were behind the counter, mixing drinks to prep for the evening. He didn’t want to risk bumping into you just yet—his nerves were already on edge from Conor’s advice and the conversation you two had—so he headed straight to the back. Inventory was the part of the job he knew you hated the most, so he wanted to take some of the load off for you. And… maybe if he took care of it (and you), you'd notice him in a different light. Maybe.

He was half-hidden behind stacks of bottles when Cody caught him.

“Chip?” Cody's voice rang through the storage room, followed by a soft laugh. “You know you won’t get paid for this, right?”

Chip startled, his fingers fumbling the bottle of sour mixer he was holding. It slipped from his hands, but luckily it was plastic and hit the ground with a soft thud. Still, he couldn’t help but glare at Cody, irritation mingling with embarrassment. “Your point?”

Cody leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and an amused smirk playing on their lips. “Why are you doing it, then?”

Chip exhaled sharply, setting the bottle back on the shelf with a bit more force than necessary. “Just helping out the boss,” he muttered, trying to sound casual.

“Uh-huh,” Cody dragged the words out, that knowing look never leaving their face. “Because you’re in loooove?” they teased, stretching the word out obnoxiously.

“No!” Chip squeaked, his voice shooting up a pitch. He felt his face flush instantly, and he inwardly cursed himself for the involuntary reaction. “I am not,” he added, more firmly this time, though he could hear how unconvincing it sounded even to his own ears.

Cody raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Uh huh. Sure, whatever you say.” They winked, their smirk widening. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. That woman is oblivious as hell, though.”

Chip’s shoulders slumped, his heart racing with a mixture of panic and frustration. “She’s not… it’s not like that,” he grumbled, though he knew Cody wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Sure, it’s not like that,” Cody teased, mimicking his tone. “Look, man, I don’t blame you. I mean, she’s great. But maybe you should stop hiding back here, doing unpaid inventory, and, you know, actually talk to her.”

Chip groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he shot Cody a half-hearted glare. “It’s not that simple.”

Cody shrugged, pushing off the wall and tossing him a sympathetic smile. “It never is. But, hey, I’m rooting for you.”

Chip watched as Cody walked out, leaving him alone with the bottles and his now much louder thoughts. Cody was right, of course, but Chip couldn’t help feeling stuck. Helping out with the busywork was a small way to get closer to you, but it wasn’t enough. 

He sighed heavily, staring at the neatly organized bottles in front of him. He knew he couldn’t keep this up, couldn’t just lurk in the background hoping you’d magically see him the way he saw you. Something had to give. But what?

Chip's question was answered moments later when you burst into the back, clearly not expecting to find anyone there. "Ah!" you screamed, your hand flying to your chest as you nearly dropped the empty glass you were holding. “Chip!” you gasped, still catching your breath. “What the hell?”

Chip jumped, just as startled. “Sorry, Y/N!” He quickly stepped forward, his own heart pounding. “I just… wanted to help. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I—I know you hate doing inventory, so I thought I’d, you know—” His words were tumbling out, awkward and rushed, trying desperately to explain himself.

But you cut him off with a light, melodic laugh, and the sound of it stopped him in his tracks. “You’re a very sweet man, Chip Taylor. Do you know that?”

The way you were looking at him—it was new. Different. There was something softer in your gaze, something warm, and Chip felt his pulse quicken. He liked it. No, he loved it.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “Just trying to help,” he said with a casual shrug, though his insides were far from calm.

You smiled again, that affectionate, teasing grin that made his heart flutter. “Well,” you said softly, “I really appreciate it, but you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” Chip blurted, almost too quickly. He met your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his face. His words weren’t just about inventory anymore, and he wondered if you could tell.

You grinned, rolling your eyes in that way that made him feel like you were amused by his awkwardness but found it endearing all the same. Then, without warning, you stepped even closer, reaching around him to grab a bottle of vodka from the shelf behind him. In that brief moment, your chest pressed against his, and Chip was sure his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“Thanks, Chip,” you breathed, your voice low and soft, your minty breath brushing against his skin as you pulled away slightly. For a second, he could barely think—your scent, your closeness, everything about you had him utterly captivated.

Chip felt frozen in place, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “Yeah,” he stammered, his throat suddenly dry, “no problem.”

You gave him another warm smile, lingering just a moment longer before you took the vodka and turned to head back out to the bar. Chip stood there, still trying to process what had just happened, the lingering scent of you and the feel of your closeness imprinted in his mind.

As the door swung closed behind you, Chip let out a shaky breath, leaning against the shelf. His mind was spinning. That brief moment—your chest against his, the way your breath had ghosted across his face—felt like it had flipped a switch inside him. 

—

After that brief but electrifying moment in the backroom, Chip couldn’t help but start noticing everything you did. It was as if every little thing you did seemed loaded with meaning—whether you intended it or not.

At home, things had shifted too. It used to be that you’d take your clothes into the bathroom when you showered, emerging fully dressed and casual. But lately, it had been different. Now, you would stroll around the apartment in a tiny towel, your damp hair clinging to your neck, droplets of water glistening on your skin. And every time you did, Chip’s brain short-circuited, turning into something the size of a pea. He'd try to focus on anything else, but his gaze always drifted back to you—your bare legs, the curve of your shoulders, the way that towel seemed dangerously close to slipping.

Then there were the groceries. You came home one day with bags full of food, seemingly innocent at first glance, until Chip noticed the trend. You had brought bananas, popsicles, cucumbers—foods that were all, well… suggestive. Chip tried not to notice, he really did. But it was impossible when you were sitting across from him at the table, casually peeling a banana and slowly taking bites in the most torturous way possible. The worst part was, you seemed completely oblivious to the effect it was having on him.

And then there were the popsicles. One hot evening, after a long shift, you sat on the couch next to Chip, legs tucked under you, enjoying a cherry popsicle. The way your lips wrapped around it, the slow, deliberate licks as you savored the cold treat—it was enough to make Chip feel like he was about to combust. He tried to keep his eyes glued to the TV, pretending he wasn’t completely fixated on the way the red juice dripped down your chin, but every glance made his heart race.

One afternoon, you were in the kitchen, casually preparing a salad. Chip, seated nearby with his phone in hand, was pretending—poorly—to focus on whatever was on his screen. But the second you pulled out an enormous cucumber from the fridge, all his concentration shattered. He told himself not to look, not to pay attention, but his eyes betrayed him, drifting back to you with every movement.

You stood there at the counter, holding the cucumber with ease as you peeled it, your fingers gripping the base in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. Chip tried to remind himself it was just a vegetable. A completely innocent act. But the way you were handling it, slicing it with such careful precision, each stroke of the knife agonizingly slow—it felt like some kind of sensual tease meant only for him, though you were completely unaware of his growing torment.

His heart raced as you absentmindedly brought a slice to your lips, biting into it with a soft crunch. The way your teeth sank into the crisp flesh of the cucumber, your lips wrapping around it, made Chip’s grip on his phone tighten. His palms were sweating, and he could feel his pulse hammering in his ears. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop. 

You chewed slowly, blissfully unaware of the effect you were having on him. When you reached for another slice, it was like slow motion—the way you brought it up, your tongue brushing it ever so slightly before you bit into it again. The movement was subtle, but it sent a jolt through Chip that he struggled to suppress.

He swallowed hard, trying to shift his attention back to his phone, but it was useless. His entire focus was on you—on the way your fingers held the cucumber, on the soft sigh that escaped your lips as you savored the taste, on the way your eyes remained distant, clearly lost in thought while he was trapped in his own private torment.

Then, as if to push him further into the abyss, you grabbed the entire cucumber in your hand again, taking a bite straight from it. Chip's mind went blank, his breath hitching as he watched your lips part, teeth sinking into the cucumber’s firm flesh, your lips lingering just a bit longer than necessary. 

Completely unaware of his wide-eyed stare, you chewed thoughtfully, then shot him a playful grin, wiping juice from the corner of your mouth. "Want some?" you asked innocently, holding up a slice.

Chip nearly choked, his mind reeling. “Uh, no. I’m—uh, I’m good,” he stammered, his voice strangled with tension.

You shrugged, your smile casual and sweet. “Suit yourself,” you replied, popping another slice into your mouth with a satisfied hum.

Chip, feeling like he was about to combust, swallowed hard and forced himself to look away, but the image of your lips on that cucumber, the soft bite, the way your eyes sparkled without a hint of understanding of what you were doing to him—it was seared into his mind.

And he knew—there was no escaping this.

Before work one evening, you casually announced that you were trying a new stretching routine. Chip had been lounging on the couch, trying to unwind after the shift, but when you spread out a yoga mat right in front of him, his entire focus shifted.

You didn’t seem to notice his sudden tension as you knelt down and began stretching, starting with simple movements. But it wasn’t long before you bent forward, your fingers sliding toward your toes, your back arching as you stretched deeper. Chip’s breath caught in his throat as he watched, his heart hammering in his chest.

Your bottoms hugged every curve, and as you stretched, the material pulled tighter, highlighting the shape of your hips, the dip of your waist, and the way your legs seemed to go on forever. The soft sighs you let out with each motion—small sounds of exertion—sent shivers down his spine. 

Chip tried desperately not to look, to focus on the TV, on his phone, on anything else, but it was impossible. The sight of you in front of him, completely absorbed in your routine, was maddening. Every movement seemed deliberate, sensual, though you had no idea what you were doing to him.

You moved into a deeper stretch, bending down again, this time with your legs spread slightly apart. Chip’s pulse quickened, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch as he fought to keep himself calm. The way your body moved, so fluid, so confident, had him mesmerized.

And then you shifted into a backbend, your body arching gracefully, your chest rising, the soft line of your neck exposed. You groaned softly, a sound of satisfaction from the stretch, but to Chip, it was something else entirely—a sound that sent heat flooding through his veins.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, his pulse racing in his ears. His mind was spinning, trying to reign in his thoughts, but the way your body curved, the way your breathing deepened, was driving him wild. Every inch of you was in his line of sight, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop staring. 

You looked up at him briefly, giving him an innocent smile as you reached for your toes again. “You should try this sometime, Chip,” you said, completely oblivious to the chaos in his head. “It’s a great way to relax.”

Chip could barely respond, his throat tight. “Y-yeah, maybe,” he managed to croak, though the last thing he felt was relaxed. His body was tense, every muscle wound tight as he sat there, barely able to breathe, knowing that if you kept this up any longer, he might just lose his mind.

As you continued your stretches, Chip’s gaze flicked over every inch of you, burning with desire he couldn’t control, and he knew, deep down, that this slow torture couldn’t last much longer. Something had to give.

—

Later that week at the bar, Chip’s jealousy was reaching a boiling point. He had been dealing with it quietly for weeks now, keeping it buried beneath the surface as best as he could, but tonight was different. Someone had started flirting with you again—a regular, someone smooth and confident, who clearly knew what they were doing. And unlike all the other times, this time you seemed more receptive. Even if it was just for a brief moment, you laughed at their jokes, leaned in a little closer, your smile warmer than it usually was with other customers.

Chip could feel his stomach twist with bitterness, his jaw tightening as he tried to stay focused on his work. But he couldn’t. His eyes kept drifting back to you, watching as you exchanged banter with the customer, completely unaware of how much it was tearing him apart inside. 

For weeks, you’d been teasing him—whether you knew it or not—walking around the apartment in towels, eating suggestive foods, brushing up against him, filling his mind with all kinds of thoughts. And now this? Flirting with someone else right in front of him? It felt like a punch to the gut.

As the night went on, Chip found himself pulling away, becoming more distant, his usual tasks done with robotic efficiency but none of his usual energy. He stayed out of sight as much as possible, avoiding you, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He couldn’t bring himself to be around you right now, not when his feelings were so close to breaking free.

After the bar finally closed and the last of the patrons trickled out, you noticed the shift in him. You wiped down the last of the counters, glancing over at Chip as he quietly stacked chairs, avoiding eye contact. Something was off.

“Chip?” you called out softly as you approached him. “You’ve been acting weird tonight. What’s going on?”

Chip didn’t look up, muttering a quick, “Nothing.”

You frowned, stepping closer and gently grabbing his arm. “I know that’s not true,” you said softly, your voice tinged with concern. “Are you okay?”

Chip flinched at your touch, a surge of frustration boiling over. He could feel it all bubbling to the surface, and before he could stop himself, the words spilled out. “It’s just… it’s hard watching everyone else flirt with you all the time.”

His voice was low, almost bitter, and it surprised even him how much emotion was packed into that one sentence. He finally looked at you, his eyes dark with something more than just jealousy.

You blinked, clearly taken aback by his confession. “Chip…” you started, your brows knitting together in confusion. “That’s just part of the job. It doesn’t mean anything.”

But Chip wasn’t convinced. He shook his head, his frustration seeping through. “Does it ever mean anything to you?”

Your breath caught for a second, surprised by the intensity in his question. You hadn’t seen just how much all the casual flirting, all the little interactions with customers, had been affecting him. You’d always seen it as part of the business, part of keeping the bar running smoothly. But Chip wasn’t just a customer. He wasn’t just another person passing through.

You let go of his arm, your expression softening as you took in the frustration in his voice, the way he was holding so much back. “Chip, I don’t know…” you started softly. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice rough, his walls crumbling down as all the emotions he had been holding back started to bleed through. 

For a moment, the silence hung heavy between you, the air thick with unspoken words and the tension that had been simmering between you both for weeks. You were seeing him in a new light—one filled with longing, frustration, and something deeper. Something that had been building up inside Chip for a while, and it was clear he couldn’t keep it locked away any longer.

He looked away, unable to meet your eyes, his voice softening with vulnerability. For the first time, you saw just how much you’d affected him. You weren’t sure what to say next, how to navigate the mess of emotions swirling between you two, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t just about flirting anymore. This was about something much deeper, and now it was out in the open, there was no turning back.

—

Feeling that his crush on you had become unbearable, Chip found himself standing in the back room of the bar, leaning against the shelves as his thoughts spiraled. Every night seemed worse than the last. Every time you smiled at someone else, laughed at their jokes, or leaned in a little too close to a customer, Chip felt something twist painfully in his chest. It had become too much. His feelings were no longer a crush—they were an anchor, weighing him down, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe in the same room as you.

The problem was, these feelings were starting to get in the way of his work. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t pretend to just be your employee anymore. How could he when his heart was tangled up in you? Watching you flirt with customers, even in the most harmless way, made him feel like he was drowning. And worse—it wasn’t your fault. You were just doing your job, being yourself. But the jealousy, the frustration, the hopeless longing were making it impossible for him to do his.

And it wasn’t just at work anymore. At home, things had changed too. Chip had noticed that lately, you seemed more careful around him. For a while, you had been casual, carefree—walking around in towels, making playful jokes, teasing him without a second thought. But now? Now, there was an unspoken tension in the air between you. It was subtle, but Chip could feel it. You no longer strolled around the apartment with the same lightness, no longer lingered in the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel after a shower. You’d take your clothes into the bathroom again, your playful banter tinged with something more reserved, more cautious. 

It was like you could sense something had shifted in him, and in response, you’d adjusted too. Maybe you hadn’t realized just how much he was struggling with his feelings, but you’d picked up on something. And that made everything worse. The easy comfort of being roommates had vanished, replaced by a growing awkwardness that gnawed at Chip constantly.

He couldn’t escape it. Not at work, where he had to watch you be charming and kind to everyone else. And not at home, where your sudden carefulness only reminded him of how complicated things had become. It was like he was trapped, unable to breathe, unable to think of anything but you and the growing distance between you.

It was too much. The weight of it was suffocating.

He couldn’t keep living like this.

So, the only option he saw was to leave. If he couldn’t have you—if you’d never look at him the way he looked at you—then maybe he needed to get out before it broke him completely. The idea of walking away felt like a fresh cut, sharp and deep, but staying felt like a slow, agonizing burn. 

Cody and Conor were chatting by the bar, laughing about something when Chip walked up, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Conor was the first to notice Chip’s demeanor and raised an eyebrow.

“Whoa, man. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Conor teased, though there was concern in his voice. “What’s going on?”

Chip sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. “I… I think I’m gonna quit.”

Cody stopped mid-laugh, their smile fading as they blinked at him in surprise. “Wait, what?”

Conor frowned, crossing their arms. “Man, you can’t just drop that on us. What the hell’s going on?”

Chip swallowed hard, his throat dry. He hadn’t wanted to admit how much he was struggling, but he couldn’t keep this to himself anymore. “It’s just—my feelings. For her. It’s getting in the way of everything. I can’t… I can’t do it anymore. Every night, it feels like I’m watching her with other people, and it’s driving me crazy. I don’t want to feel this way, but I do. And I think the only way to stop it is to leave.”

Cody exchanged a glance with Conor before stepping closer to Chip, their expression softer now. “Chip, I get it. Believe me, I do. But quitting your job because of it? That’s a big decision.”

Conor nodded, their playful demeanor gone as they looked at Chip seriously. “You’ve gotta think carefully about this, man. You’re not just giving up a job—you’re giving up on being around her completely. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Chip felt his heart ache at the thought of not seeing you anymore, not hearing your laugh or seeing your smile every night. But at the same time, he didn’t know how much longer he could take the constant emotional rollercoaster of wanting something that seemed impossible. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” he admitted, his voice strained. “But I don’t think I can stay and keep feeling like this. It’s tearing me apart.”

Cody sighed, placing a hand on Chip’s shoulder. “Look, man, we’re not telling you what to do, but maybe don’t make any rash decisions just yet. Take some time to really think about it. If you leave now, it might hurt just as much as staying does.”

“Yeah,” Conor added, “and finding another job won’t necessarily fix how you feel. Your heart’s wrapped up in this. It’s not gonna just go away because you work somewhere else.”

Chip nodded, knowing deep down they were right. It wasn’t just the job—it was you. His heart was tangled up in you, and no matter where he went, those feelings weren’t going to magically disappear. Still, the thought of staying felt unbearable, and he couldn’t shake the idea of leaving, of starting over somewhere where he wouldn’t have to feel like this every day.

“I’ve even started looking for other jobs,” Chip muttered, his voice quiet. “Just to see if there’s anything else out there. Something to distract me from… this.”

Cody sighed, glancing at Conor before turning back to Chip. “Look, maybe there’s another way. Have you thought about… I don’t know… talking to her? Telling her how you feel?”

Chip shook his head, his face a mask of pain. “I can’t. She’s my boss, my roommate. It would just make things weird. I don’t want to mess things up even more.”

Conor raised an eyebrow. “Weirder than you quitting out of nowhere without explaining why? Where would you live then?”

Chip bit his lip, his hands balling into fists as he stared at the floor. He hadn’t thought about it like that. Leaving without saying anything would raise questions. It would leave things unresolved. 

Cody squeezed his shoulder gently. “Just… think about it, okay? Don’t do anything you’ll regret later. Talk to her if you can. And if it’s really too much to handle, we’ll support whatever decision you make.”

Cody and Conor had noticed things changing between you and Chip for a while now. They weren’t blind to the way Chip had started acting—more distant, more withdrawn, especially when you were around. His mood had shifted, and while he was still doing his job, there was a tension between the two of you that hadn’t been there before. 

And now, with Chip thinking about quitting, they couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was more to the story—something you hadn’t said yet.

It was a quiet afternoon at the bar, just before the evening rush. You were behind the counter, absentmindedly polishing glasses, and Cody and Conor shared a look before they approached. They weren’t going to be obvious, but they needed to get a feel for where your head was at when it came to Chip.

Conor leaned against the counter first, flashing you a playful grin. “So, boss, how’s it going with our boy Chip lately? He’s been acting a little off, don’t you think?”

You glanced up, your brow furrowing slightly as you met Conor’s eyes. “Yeah, I’ve noticed,” you admitted, setting down the glass you were working on. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. He’s been so… distant. Different.”

Cody, leaning on the bar next to Conor, raised an eyebrow, watching your reaction closely. “Different how?” they asked casually, though there was a clear curiosity in their voice.

You shrugged, not entirely sure how to explain it. “I don’t know… He just seems quieter lately. I’ve tried asking him if he’s okay, but he always brushes it off, says he’s fine. But it doesn’t feel like he is.”

Conor exchanged a quick glance with Cody before turning back to you. “You think maybe it’s something to do with work? Or… maybe something else?”

You paused for a moment, considering the question. Chip had been acting strange both at work and at home, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s been fine at work, mostly, just a little more distracted than usual. And at home… well, it feels like things are weird there too. Like there’s some kind of… tension between us. But I don’t know why.”

Cody leaned in a little closer, their tone softer now, as if they were testing the waters. “Tension? Like what kind of tension? You think maybe Chip’s feeling some kind of way about you?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the implication, blinking in surprise. “What? No, I mean… why would he?” You laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it now. “We’re just friends. Roommates. He’s probably just going through something.”

Conor smirked, crossing their arms and leaning in a little closer. “Maybe. But we’ve seen the way he looks at you, you know? Kind of seems like there’s more there…”

You hesitated, feeling a flicker of uncertainty at their words. You’d noticed Chip acting strange, sure, but you hadn’t really considered the idea that it might be because of you. “I don’t know,” you said, a little quieter now. “He’s never said anything like that to me.”

“Yeah, well,” Cody said with a knowing smile, “sometimes guys don’t say stuff like that because they’re scared of messing things up. But, I mean, if he did feel that way… how would you feel about it?”

You looked between Cody and Conor, realizing they weren’t just casually asking anymore. They were digging, trying to gauge your reaction, and it left you feeling a little off-balance. “I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “He’s an amazing person, but…”

Conor raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish. “But?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “But he’s never made a move, you know? We’ve been living together for a while, and I guess there have been a few times when I thought he might say something. Maybe he wanted something more, but he never opens up. I never know what he’s thinking.”

Cody nodded, a knowing look in their eyes. “Yeah, that sounds like Chip. He’s got a lot going on in that head of his, but he keeps it all bottled up. Doesn’t make it easy to figure out what he wants.”

Conor leaned in a little closer, lowering their voice. “But here’s the thing—you probably know him better than anyone. You’ve seen the way he is when he’s comfortable, and when he’s not. And if you’ve felt those moments—those times when you thought he might say something—well, chances are, he’s felt them too.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, thinking back to those moments. The times when you caught him looking at you a second too long, or when he seemed to shy away from getting too close. The way he acted differently around you lately, quieter, more distant, like he was trying to avoid something. Or maybe trying to avoid you.

“I just don’t get it,” you admitted, shaking your head. “If he feels something, why doesn’t he say anything? Why pull away?”

Cody smiled sympathetically. “Fear, probably. He’s scared of messing things up between you two. I mean, think about it—you’re his boss, his roommate, his friend. That’s a lot to risk if he’s worried it’s not mutual.”

Conor added, “And from what I’ve seen, it’s eating him up. Dude’s been in a weird headspace lately. He probably thinks if he says something, it’ll make things weird or worse, so instead he just… suffers in silence.”

You exhaled heavily, feeling the weight of their words settle over you. Maybe you’d been missing something, maybe Chip had been struggling with this for longer than you realized. But if he wasn’t going to say anything, if he was just going to pull away, what could you do?

“Should I… talk to him?” you asked hesitantly, unsure of how to approach something like this. It wasn’t like you could just march up to him and demand he tell you how he felt.

Cody gave you an encouraging nod. “I think you should. Just be honest with him. If you care about him—and I know you do—then don’t let this thing fester. He’s not going to be the one to start that conversation, so it’s gotta be you.”

You nodded slowly, feeling a swirl of emotions you weren’t entirely ready to confront. It was one thing to speculate about Chip’s feelings, but if you were going to talk to him—if you were going to open this door—then you’d have to be ready for what might come next.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice firm but uncertain. “I’ll talk to him. I just hope I’m not too late.”

Conor patted your shoulder, flashing you a supportive grin. “You’re not. Just don’t wait too long. Chip’s a good guy, but he seems like he might have a habit of retreating when things get hard. You don’t want to lose him.”

As they walked away, leaving you alone to process everything, you found yourself staring at the empty bar, your thoughts circling back to Chip. Maybe you had missed something, maybe you hadn’t been paying close enough attention. But one thing was certain—things couldn’t go on like this. Something had to change, and soon.

—

It was late, the bar now silent after the last customer had trickled out into the night. The air was still, thick with the smell of spilled drinks and fading laughter, but it was peaceful in a way that only came after a long shift. You wiped down the last glass, casting a glance over at Chip as he finished stacking the chairs. 

“Hey, Chip,” you called softly, breaking the quiet, “how about we have a drink before heading home?”

Chip hesitated, surprised by the offer. His heart leapt into his throat, immediately overthinking every possible implication. You just wanted to relax, he told himself. It was just a drink, no big deal. Still, he was nervous. Too nervous, given the circumstances. But after a second, he nodded, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice.”

You smiled at him, that easy, genuine smile that always seemed to put him at ease, and it made his stomach twist with all the feelings he’d been trying to keep buried. He followed you to the back of the bar, where it was quieter, and you grabbed two beers from the cooler, handing one to him as you sat down at one of the small, dimly lit tables. 

The two of you clinked your bottles together lightly, the gesture casual, but Chip could feel the tension thrumming in his chest. He took a sip, trying to settle his nerves as you both sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.

“So,” you began after a while, your voice soft but curious, “how’ve you been? I mean, really been? I feel like we haven’t talked much lately.”

Chip blinked, caught off guard by the question. He swallowed, his fingers tightening around the neck of the beer bottle. “Uh, I’ve been… okay, I guess,” he said, trying to sound neutral, though his voice faltered slightly. 

You tilted your head, giving him that look that told him you could see right through him. “Come on, Chip. I know you better than that.”

Chip looked down, the familiar feeling of guilt creeping up on him. He knew he hadn’t been the same, but how could he explain that it was all because of you? That every time he saw you, every time you smiled or laughed, it felt like his heart was being ripped in two? He couldn’t tell you that—not completely. Not yet.

“I’ve just been… dealing with some stuff,” he finally admitted, his voice quieter now. “Got a lot on my mind.”

You nodded, sipping your beer thoughtfully. “I get that. We all have our moments, right? But if there’s something going on, you know you can talk to me, right? I care about you, Chip.”

Chip felt his heart clench at your words. The way you said it—I care about you—it was so simple, so kind, but it only reminded him of what he couldn’t have. He took a deep breath, deciding to let a little bit of his guard down. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot about the future, I guess. What I’m doing here. What I want to be doing. And sometimes, it feels like I’m stuck.”

You leaned in slightly, your eyes soft with understanding. “I’ve felt the same way a lot over the years. Like, what am I doing here? Where am I going? It’s hard to figure out sometimes, especially when things feel complicated.”

Chip glanced at you, surprised at your openness. “You seem like you have it all figured out,” Chip said, his tone slightly teasing but genuine. “Running this place, handling everything so well. I’ve always admired that about you.”

You smiled, a little sadly. “Thanks, Chip, but trust me, I don’t have it all figured out. Sometimes I’m just as lost as anyone else. I just try not to let it show too much.”

There was a pause, a comfortable silence settling between you two as you both sipped your beers, each lost in your own thoughts. The conversation was quieter now, but there was an ease to it, a closeness that hadn’t been there before. 

After a few more minutes of silence, you set your beer down and looked at Chip, your expression shifting slightly, more serious now. “Chip,” you began, your voice softer, more hesitant, “can I ask you something?”

He glanced up at you, his heart immediately jumping into his throat again. “Yeah, of course.”

You bit your lip, seeming to choose your words carefully before finally asking, “How do you feel about me?”

Chip froze. His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse loud in his ears. This was it. The moment he’d been avoiding, the conversation he’d been dreading and longing for all at once. His hands tightened around the bottle, and for a second, he wasn’t sure if he could find the words. But he couldn’t avoid it any longer. 

“I—” He hesitated, feeling the weight of the question settle heavily over him. He could feel your eyes on him, waiting for an answer, and he knew he had to give you one. “I care about you. A lot. More than I should.”

Your brow furrowed slightly. “More than you should?”

Chip took a deep breath, his throat tight. “Yeah. You’re my boss, and my friend, and… I don’t want to mess things up between us. But it’s been hard. Really hard. I’ve been trying to ignore it, to push it down, but it’s just—” He paused, searching for the right words. “It’s hard watching you, being around you, and not being able to say anything. Because I know it’ll change things, and I don’t want to ruin what we have. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel the way I do.”

There it was. Not a full confession, but enough to crack open the wall he’d been hiding behind. Enough to give you a glimpse into how much he’d been struggling with his feelings for you.

You sat back, processing his words, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy, filled with everything that had been left unsaid for weeks, months. Finally, you let out a soft breath, your gaze meeting his.

“I didn’t realize,” you said gently. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Chip nodded, his eyes downcast. “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything. I didn’t want to make things weird.”

You were quiet for a moment longer before you spoke again, your voice softer now. “Things aren’t weird, Chip. Not for me. I just… I wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

Chip looked up at you, his heart racing. There was something in your voice, something in the way you were looking at him that made him think, for the first time, that maybe he hadn’t been wrong to feel the way he did. Maybe there was more between you than just friendship and work. Maybe things weren’t as impossible as he’d thought.

"Why?" Chip asked, his voice barely above a whisper, uncertainty lacing every syllable. His heart pounded in his chest, torn between hope and the fear of misunderstanding everything.

You smiled softly, and in that moment, Chip felt the world shift, the air between you charged with something different—something real. Your eyes met his, filled with a warmth and sincerity he hadn’t allowed himself to believe was possible.

“Because then I could have told you sooner that I feel the same way,” you said, your voice gentle but sure.

Chip stared at you, his mind struggling to catch up with what you’d just said. Feel the same way? His heart skipped a beat, his pulse thundering in his ears as your words sank in. He had spent so long convincing himself that you were out of reach, that his feelings were one-sided, a hopeless crush he’d never be able to confess.

But now—now—you were looking at him with that soft, genuine smile, and everything he’d been holding back for so long felt like it was about to come crashing down. His heart was pounding in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it all. “What… what way do you feel?” he asked, his voice quiet, filled with disbelief. He needed to hear it again, just to be sure, just to know this wasn’t a dream or some misunderstanding.

You grinned, the warmth in your eyes making his pulse race even faster. “I really like you, Chip,” you said softly, your voice steady but filled with affection. “And right now, I really want to kiss you.”

Chip’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as the words hit him with full force. His heart seemed to skip a beat, the reality of the moment sinking in. He had imagined this—dreamt about it, wished for it—but hearing it, actually hearing it, was something entirely different.

“You… you do?” he stammered, the disbelief still lingering even as his heart swelled with hope.

You nodded, stepping closer, closing the space between you. “Yeah, Chip. I do.”

The air between you was charged now, thick with anticipation and a tension that had been building for so long. He could feel the warmth radiating from you, the soft hum of something electric as your gaze held his. His mind was still spinning, but there was no mistaking the look in your eyes, the way your lips curved into that gentle, inviting smile.

For once, Chip didn’t overthink it. He didn’t retreat into his head or worry about the consequences. He didn’t think about you being his boss, his roommate, or the fear that had kept him silent for so long. All he could think about was you—standing there, telling him you felt the same way he had for so long.

So, without another word, Chip leaned in, his breath shaky but his heart certain. His lips brushed yours, tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But the moment your lips touched, everything fell into place. The hesitation melted away, and Chip deepened the kiss, his hand gently reaching up to cup your cheek as he pulled you closer.

The kiss was soft, tender, but filled with everything you both had held back for so long. It was like a floodgate had opened, all the emotions, the longing, the unsaid words finally spilling out in that one moment. Chip couldn’t believe it was happening—that after all this time, you wanted this too.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead resting against his, you were both slightly breathless, a quiet, giddy laughter bubbling between you.

“I can’t believe we waited so long to do that,” you whispered, your hand still resting on his arm.

Chip smiled, his heart still racing. “I can’t believe this is real.”

You chuckled softly, your thumb brushing gently over his arm. “It’s real, Chip.”

You both stood there for a moment, the weight of everything that had been unsaid between you now lifted, leaving only the warmth of something new, something real. Chip felt lighter than he had in weeks, months, honestly ever. 

He smiled softly at you, his voice filled with quiet sincerity as he whispered, “I think I want to kiss you again.” 

And when you smiled, leaning in for another kiss, it felt like the start of something he’d been waiting for all along.

But this next kiss was different. It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was filled with the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long, finally unleashed. You gripped his biceps, feeling the strength you’d been secretly drooling over for months, your fingers curling around the muscle as if you couldn’t get close enough. 

Chip’s hands slid down to your hips, and with a sudden, heated movement, he yanked you into his lap. The shift was quick, fluid, and before you could even react, you were straddling him, your chest pressed against his, the air between you charged with a hunger that neither of you could deny anymore.

“Whoa, there, cowboy,” you laughed breathlessly, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, your lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. Your hands stayed on his arms, but your body trembled with excitement, anticipation coursing through your veins.

Chip grinned, that boyish, almost shy smile you’d grown so fond of breaking through the lustful haze in his eyes. “Sorry, got a little carried away,” he murmured, though his hands stayed firm on your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

You laughed again, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I didn’t say I minded,” you teased, leaning back in, your lips brushing his with just enough pressure to drive him wild. You could feel his heartbeat under your palms, could sense the way he was holding back, still cautious despite the fire burning between you.

Chip groaned softly, the sound vibrating between your lips as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “You’re making it really hard to behave,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath warm and ragged, sending shivers down your spine.

“Who said I want you to behave?” you whispered back, the words sending a surge of heat through him. You could feel him tense beneath you, his grip on your hips tightening as he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, more need.

Your hands slipped from his biceps to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as you let yourself melt into him, the heat between you intensifying with every second. Chip’s hands roamed from your hips, sliding down to your ass, his grip firm, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

The bar was quiet, the world outside forgotten as the two of you lost yourselves in each other, in the kiss that had been building for so long. It was like the floodgates had opened, all the pent-up tension, the unsaid words, the longing finally released in this moment.

And as you kissed him again, his lips soft yet demanding against yours, you realized just how much you had wanted this—how much you had wanted him. 

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Chip murmured between kisses, his voice low and rough, sending another thrill through you.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, your heart racing. “Me too, Chip,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. 

When your fingers crept up the bottom of Chip’s shirt, brushing against his skin and tangling in the soft hair on his stomach, you felt him shiver under your touch. His breath hitched, and for a brief moment, he seemed to freeze. His hands, which had been resting firmly on your ass, loosened slightly as if his mind caught up to what was happening.

“We—um, we probably shouldn’t do this here? Right?” Chip's voice was shaky, caught between desire and hesitation, his words more a question than a statement. 

You paused, leaning back just enough to look at him, the playful gleam still shining in your eyes. “My bar, my rules,” you whispered, your voice dripping with mischief. Without giving him time to respond, you leaned forward, licking a slow, deliberate line up the side of his neck, feeling the way he trembled under your lips.

Chip let out a low groan, his eyes fluttering shut as your teeth dug into the sensitive skin of his neck. He gripped you tighter, trying to catch his breath, his mind spinning. The line between right and wrong blurred as the heat between you intensified. 

He swallowed hard, as his thoughts unraveled with every kiss, every bite, the world outside forgotten as your lips sent electricity coursing through him. Your teeth scraped lightly against his neck again, making him gasp, his body arching beneath you. He felt like he was losing himself in you, in this moment, and he wasn’t sure he cared anymore. The tension, the need that had built up for so long was too much to ignore now.

"Fuck," Chip groaned lowly as you finally settled fully on his lap, his body responding instantly to the pressure of you pressed so intimately against him. You could feel just how much he wanted this, wanted you, his breath hitching as his hands gripped your hips tighter, trying to steady himself.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “You gonna let me take care of you, Chip?” Your voice was soft, sweet, but dripping with a seductive promise that made his head spin. 

For a moment, Chip couldn’t think—his mind spiraling as your words sank in. Take care of him. All he’d ever wanted was for someone to see him, to really see him, and care about him in the way you were offering. It was overwhelming, the idea that you could feel this way about him, that you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

His chest tightened, a mixture of desire and something deeper bubbling up inside him. He nodded slowly, his voice hoarse when he finally spoke. “Yeah… yeah, I want that.” His words were barely audible, filled with need and vulnerability all at once.

You grinned, your lips brushing against his neck again as your hands slid up his chest, feeling the way his heart pounded beneath your fingertips. "Good," you whispered, your tone filled with a confidence that sent a shiver down his spine. "Just relax. Let me take care of you."

Chip swallowed hard, his body trembling slightly as he let go of the tension he'd been holding onto for so long. He felt your hands on him, the warmth of your body pressed against his, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t feel like he had to hold back. He didn’t feel like he had to be in control or guard himself.

You moved against him slowly, teasingly, your body swaying in just the right way to make him lose all sense of restraint. Chip’s breath came in ragged gasps, his hands clutching at your waist, his mind lost in the haze of sensation. The idea that you wanted to take care of him—him—felt unreal, like a fantasy he'd never dared to hope for.

“God, you feel so good,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire as you rocked against him, his head falling back as he gave in completely. 

You smiled, feeling the heat of the moment rise as you saw just how much you were affecting him, how vulnerable he was beneath you, how completely lost he was in the feeling of being wanted. You leaned in close, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “I can make you feel a whole lot better.”

Chip blinked, confusion flashing in his eyes as he tried to process your words. His brow furrowed, and before he could even ask what you meant, you were climbing off his lap. He squawked in protest, his hands instinctively reaching for you, not wanting the moment to end.

But any protest he had died on his lips when he saw what you were doing.

Your knees hit the floor, and his heart nearly stopped. His breath hitched in his throat, his entire body freezing as he watched you kneel between his legs. The sight of you looking up at him, that wicked, playful glint in your eyes, made his mind spin. He couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe what you were about to do.

Your hand slid over him, pressing firmly through the denim of his jeans, and Chip’s breath left him in a shaky exhale. His hands clenched the arms of the chair as he looked down at you, his pulse roaring in his ears. The feel of your touch, even through the fabric, sent a jolt of electricity through his entire body.

“Y/N…” Chip breathed, his voice breaking as his mind struggled to catch up with what was happening. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. His body reacted before his mind could, his hips shifting under your hand as he swallowed hard, his throat tight with anticipation.

You grinned up at him, your hand moving slowly, teasingly, as you kept your gaze locked on his. You could see the way his breath quickened, the way his body tensed, completely at your mercy. "Relax," you whispered, your voice soft and commanding all at once.

Chip could only nod, his mind spinning as he let go of the last shred of control he had. He watched you, unable to look away, as your fingers began working on the button of his jeans, the sound of the zipper echoing in the quiet room. His breath caught in his throat as your hand slipped beneath the fabric, the feel of your skin on his sending a shockwave of desire through him.

This was what he had wanted—what he had dreamed of for so long. But now that it was happening, it was almost too much, too overwhelming, and yet, he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. 

Of course, everything intensified when you pulled him completely free from his jeans, the fabric sliding down his hips as you worked with deliberate care. Chip’s breath hitched in disbelief as you wasted no time, nuzzling in at the base of him with a teasing smile, your warm breath against his skin sending a shockwave of sensation through him. His hands gripped the arms of the chair tighter, his knuckles turning white as he tried to process what was happening.

He couldn’t believe his luck. This—this—wasn’t something that ever happened to him. He was usually the one giving, always wanting to please, whether or not he wanted to receive in return. But now, you were turning everything on its head, taking control in a way that left him utterly helpless and overwhelmed with pleasure.

His mind raced, torn between the urge to let go completely and the instinct to pull back, but the moment your lips brushed against him, soft and teasing, any thought of retreat vanished. His body betrayed him, responding instantly, hips jerking slightly as a low groan escaped his throat.

"Fuck," Chip muttered, the word drawn out, his voice rough with desire. His head fell back against the chair, his mind clouded with the heat of the moment, the feel of your hands, your mouth, completely undoing him.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you moved slowly, deliberately, taking your time as if savoring every second. The sight of you kneeling before him, your lips teasing, your hands firm but gentle, was enough to drive him wild. His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse racing as you took him further, inch by inch, your touch making it impossible for him to think straight.

Chip’s breathing grew ragged, his fingers flexing uselessly on the chair, trying to find something—anything—to hold onto as you worked him over. He could barely string a thought together, his mind reduced to a haze of pure sensation, and it took everything in him not to lose himself entirely.

“You’re… you’re really doing this,” he mumbled, his voice breathless, as though he still couldn’t believe it was real. And, God, he didn’t want you to stop. 

You smiled up at him, your eyes gleaming with mischief as your hand tightened around him, sending a fresh wave of sensation crashing through his body. "And you taste really good," you teased, your voice low and sultry, laced with a sweetness that made Chip’s breath stutter in his chest.

Before he could even process your words, you leaned back in, this time with a newfound determination. You wasted no time, your mouth enveloping him in a way that sent his mind spiraling into a dizzying blur of pleasure. Chip’s body tensed, a strangled moan escaping his lips as he leaned his head back against the chair, gripping the edges so hard his knuckles turned white.

It felt like his brain was melting, the heat of your mouth, the way you moved with deliberate, agonizing precision, unraveling him inch by inch. His vision blurred, his breath coming in ragged gasps, each one more desperate than the last. Every sensation, every touch, was heightened, the world around him fading away until all he could feel, all he could think about, was you.

You were relentless, going to town on him like you were on a mission, and Chip could do nothing but surrender to the waves of pleasure rolling through him. His hips bucked involuntarily as you worked him over, your lips, your tongue, moving in perfect sync with your hand. It was almost too much, and yet, not enough all at once. He couldn’t get enough of you.

"Fuck," he groaned the only word he seemed to remember, his voice rough, almost breaking as you pulled another shiver from deep within him. His mind was gone, lost somewhere between reality and bliss, his only tether to this world the sensation of your mouth on him. 

Chip was falling apart, his body trembling under your expert touch, and the more you moved, the more he let go. Every moan, every gasp, every choked sound he made only seemed to spur you on, pushing him further and further until he was right on the edge, teetering dangerously close to losing himself completely.

He didn’t care anymore if he was too loud, didn’t care if the world outside the bar was still spinning. He could barely even remember where he was, his entire existence narrowed down to this one moment, to you, to the way you made him feel like he was coming undone at the seams.

It was overwhelming, the pleasure hitting him like a tidal wave, crashing over him in relentless waves until all he could do was let go. His hands fumbled for purchase, his fingers tangling in your hair as he groaned your name, the sound breaking off into a desperate plea as you pushed him closer, and closer to the edge.

And when Chip finally couldn’t take it anymore, when the pressure that had been building inside him finally broke, his body tensed, and a low, guttural moan escaped his throat. His voice was thick with desperation as he warned, "I’m going to come—"

But before he could get there, you pulled away suddenly, your hand gripping him firmly at the base, cutting off all sensation. His entire body jolted, and a broken, frustrated cry tore from his lips. "Why?!" he whined, his eyes wide, desperate, and full of disbelief.

You smirked, your voice teasing yet full of promise as you whispered, “Because I’m not done with you.”

Chip's frustration was palpable, his body still thrumming with need, every muscle coiled tight as he struggled to recover from the abrupt stop. But the moment he saw you rise to your feet, that playful gleam still in your eyes, and begin to slowly remove your top, his breath caught in his throat. 

His eyes widened as you peeled away the fabric, revealing your skin inch by inch, and the irritation that had been burning inside him vanished in an instant. Instead, all he could do was stare, his gaze locked on you, completely entranced. The soft glow of the dim lights in the bar cast a warm glow over your skin, and Chip's heart raced in his chest as he took in every detail.

"Fuck..." he breathed, his voice a low rasp, filled with awe and desire. The sight of you—standing there, unashamed, confident, and wanting him—was enough to make his mind go blank all over again.

“Do you know any other words, honey? Or are you fucked stupid already?” you teased, your voice dripping with playful dominance as you hovered over him. The wicked grin on your face sent a shiver down Chip’s spine, and his mind struggled to keep up with the sensation coursing through his body.

“I–uh…” Chip stuttered, completely flustered by the combination of your words and the feel of your body pressed against his. His mind was hazy, his thoughts scattered, and he couldn’t think straight. His lips parted, desperate for words, but all that came out was a needy, “Y/N, please…”

You smirked, clearly enjoying the effect you were having on him, your hands sliding over his chest as you leaned in close. “I’m glad you still have your manners, my dumb boy,” you cooed, your tone both sweet and condescending, the words sending another wave of heat rushing through his veins.

Chip thought he would hate it—the way you were teasing him, degrading him just enough to make him feel like he was completely under your control. But instead, it had the opposite effect. His heart raced faster, his skin flushed, and every word you said made his desire for you burn hotter, stronger. He was already so far gone, so completely consumed by the moment, that he didn’t care anymore. He wanted more—needed more of you, no matter how you gave it to him.

His eyes locked onto yours, wide and desperate, his voice barely a whisper as he choked out, “Please… don’t stop.”

Your grin widened, your fingers trailing down his stomach, teasing him as you took your time. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you stepped closer until you were right in front of him. 

His hands instinctively reached for you, but you gently pushed him back against the chair, keeping control, your gaze locked with his. "You're going to sit back," you whispered, your voice low and commanding, "and let me take care of you."

Chip’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his pulse racing as he nodded, his eyes still glued to you. His body was already on fire, every nerve on edge, but now the anticipation of what you were about to do was almost unbearable.

You grinned, clearly loving the effect you were having on him, the power you held over him in this moment. With a slow, deliberate motion, you began to slide your bottoms down, letting them drop to the floor, exposing yourself completely to Chip. His eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat as he stared up at you, utterly entranced by the sight.

Without a word, you climbed back into his lap, the heat of your bare skin pressing against his as you kissed him, deep and slow, savoring the way he responded. Chip groaned into your mouth, his hands moving immediately, instinctively, to cup your breasts. His touch was needy, desperate, his fingers squeezing gently as he explored you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as you moaned in his mouth.

The feeling of his hands on you, the way his breath hitched as you kissed him, made your whole body hum with anticipation. You could feel how badly he wanted this—how badly he wanted you—and the way his touch became more urgent, more insistent, only fueled your desire.

You pressed your body closer, grinding against him as your lips moved together, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. Chip's moans grew louder, his grip on you tightening as he lost himself in the sensation, every inch of his body responding to your touch.

He pulled back for just a second, breathless and wide-eyed, his voice hoarse as he whispered, "You're perfect... so perfect."

You smiled against his lips, your voice teasing as you whispered back, "Good boy."

“Fuck me, please, please, please,” Chip cried out, his voice ragged and desperate, his entire body trembling beneath you. The words came out in a rush, his need overtaking every ounce of restraint he had left.

You leaned in close, teasing him with a soft, mocking coo, “Oh, my stupid little baby, I will. You don’t have to cry.” You grinned wickedly, swiping your thumbs under his eyes, even though there were no actual tears, your touch just enough to send another shiver down his spine.

Chip lifted his arms obediently, his breathing heavy, and you helped him out of his shirt, tossing it aside as you admired the way his chest rose and fell with each labored breath. The tension between you was electric, the air thick with anticipation as you positioned yourself above him, his hands gripping your hips like he was holding on for dear life.

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you finally sank down on him.

Chip let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against the chair as you took him in completely, the overwhelming sensation making his entire body tense beneath you. His hands tightened on your hips, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he tried to process the rush of pleasure flooding through him.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice barely audible as you began to move, your body sliding against his in a slow, teasing rhythm. You could feel the way his muscles tensed, the way his grip on you tightened as if he was trying to keep himself grounded, but the more you moved, the more he lost himself in the sensation.

You smiled down at him, your own breath hitching as you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "There you go, baby."

Chip’s response was nothing more than a broken moan, his mind completely gone, lost to the feeling of you, of the way your body moved against his, of the overwhelming pleasure that had been building for what felt like forever. And as you rode him, slow and deliberate, Chip could only cling to you, completely at your mercy, and loving every second of it.

“Does it–ahh–does it feel good for you?” Chip whimpered, his voice shaky and breathless, his eyes wide with need as he looked up at you. His hands gripped your hips tighter, desperate to make sure you were feeling even a fraction of the intensity that was flooding through him.

You smiled down at him, your breath catching as you moved against him, your body sinking deeper with each slow, deliberate motion. “Oh, baby,” you purred, leaning in close enough that your lips brushed against his ear, “it feels fucking amazing.”

Your words made Chip’s body jolt beneath you, a needy groan escaping his lips as you continued to move, each motion slow but firm, driving him wild. The way your body enveloped him, the heat and friction between you both, had his mind spinning, but hearing that it felt good for you—really good—made his heart pound even harder.

"God, you're perfect," he whispered, his voice hoarse, his hips bucking up instinctively as you continued to ride him, his need to please you overriding everything else. "I just want to make you feel good."

You smiled, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the muscles tense beneath your fingers as you leaned in close again, your lips brushing against his. "You already are, baby," you whispered, your voice breathy and filled with a teasing warmth. "You're being so good for me."

Chip whimpered at your words, his mind overwhelmed by the heady mix of praise and raw sensation. Every nerve in his body was on fire, his control slipping with every second. He barely knew what he was doing, lost in the whirlwind of desire, but somehow, in a blur of movement, the positions had shifted.

Suddenly, you were laying down on the table, your back arching slightly as Chip found himself on top of you. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his body trembling as he thrust into you, more instinct than thought guiding his movements now. His hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he moved, his rhythm uneven but full of intensity.

“Fuck,” Chip breathed, his voice rough, almost broken. He couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe how good it felt to be this close to you, to be buried inside you, moving with reckless abandon. He wanted to last, to savor the moment, but the way you felt beneath him, the soft gasps that escaped your lips, were driving him wild.

Your hands slid up his arms, gripping his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper. “That’s it, Chip,” you murmured, your voice sultry and filled with encouragement. “Just like that.”

Your words only fueled the fire inside him. Chip’s hips snapped forward harder, more desperate, his body completely giving in to the pleasure as he chased the high that had been building between you. He could barely think, barely breathe, but he didn’t care—he was completely lost in the moment, in you.

The table creaked beneath you, your bodies moving in sync, every thrust sending a wave of electricity through both of you. Chip’s forehead rested against yours, his breath hot and ragged as he continued, his need to please you overtaking everything else.

“Am I—ah—doing good?” he managed to choke out between thrusts, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a raw vulnerability. He was desperate for reassurance, desperate to know that he was making you feel as good as you were making him feel.

Your nails scraped lightly down his back, sending a shiver through him as you smiled up at him, your voice low and sultry as you whispered, “So good, Chip. You’re amazing.”

Those words sent Chip over the edge. His body tensed, every muscle tightening as he lost himself in the rhythm, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. The only thing on his mind now was you, the way your body moved beneath his, the way you felt so perfectly wrapped around him. 

"I’m gonna come, Y/N," Chip groaned, his voice strained, trembling with the intensity of everything building inside him. His movements grew more erratic, his hips snapping harder against you as he fought to keep control, though he knew he was seconds away from losing it completely.

You could feel how close he was, his body trembling with the effort, his breath ragged and uneven. Your hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him even closer as you whispered, your voice dripping with need, "Give it to me, baby."

Those words, that permission, sent him spiraling over the edge.

With a broken, desperate moan, Chip’s body tensed, his hips bucking one last time as he lost himself completely in the pleasure. His entire body shuddered, waves of heat crashing over him as he buried himself inside you, giving you everything he had. 

His breath came out in short, gasping pants, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as the last of the tension drained from him. He was shaking, overwhelmed by the intensity of the release, and for a moment, he could barely think, his mind blank as he clung to you.

"Fuck," he whispered, his voice hoarse and trembling as he tried to catch his breath, still lost in the haze of everything that had just happened.

You smiled, your hands sliding up his back in a soothing gesture as you held him close, your own breath still ragged from the intensity of it all. "That’s my good boy," you whispered, your lips brushing his ear as you ran your fingers through his hair.

You and Chip sorted yourselves out, getting cleaned up and dressed before stepping back into the quiet night, the air cool against your flushed skin. As you began walking home, Chip felt a warmth settle in his chest that had nothing to do with the physical heat between you earlier. His heart soared when you casually grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world. That small, intimate gesture made him feel like everything had changed—for the better.

But then, suddenly, a cold realization hit him, causing his steps to falter. “Oh my god,” Chip said, his voice full of panic as he looked at you with wide eyes. “You never came!”

You burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet street, and you stopped walking, tugging him into a hug. Chip immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, but still looking slightly panicked. “What’s this for?” he asked, confusion lacing his words.

“You’re the sweetest man alive, Chip,” you said through your laughter, pulling back just enough to grin up at him. You leaned in, giving him a soft, lingering kiss that made his mind spin all over again. When you pulled away, Chip’s lips followed yours instinctively, still looking dazed and concerned.

Before he could speak, you brushed your thumb over his cheek, whispering, “I was only worried about you.” Then, with a playful glint in your eyes, you tickled his sides, making him jump and giggle, his worry dissolving into laughter.

“But,” you added, your tone turning teasing again as you looked up at him with a wink, “if you want to go again, you can sleep in my bed tonight.”

Chip’s eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open in shock and excitement. Without missing a beat, he nodded, completely floored by your offer. And then—he was off. Grabbing your hand, he tugged you down the street, practically dragging you along as he picked up the pace.

You couldn’t help but laugh maniacally as Chip half-sprinted down the street, pulling you behind him like a man on a mission. You’d never seen him move so fast in your life, and it only made your laughter echo louder.

Chip glanced back at you, his face flushed with a mix of excitement and affection, but his steps didn’t slow. He wasn’t going to waste any time getting home tonight—not with the promise of you waiting for him. And as you both hurried through the night, hand in hand, the laughter between you felt like the start of something new, something neither of you were going to let go of anytime soon.

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[flemingsfreckles]

Better Boyfriend than Him (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: Jessie finds out your boyfriend is leaving you unsatisfied in the bedroom, she offers to prove that she’s can treat you better than him. (Inspired by the song Boyfriend by Dove Cameron)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) frat boy Jessie vibes, oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), suggestive comments about straight sex, small mention of masturbation, technically cheating on boyfriend by reader.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: this is the first time I’ve written any form of smut, maybe not my finest work but I wanted to give it a shot.

“I thought your attitude was going to be fixed once you started getting laid regularly. What happened to that?” Those were the first words spoken to you by your best friend that afternoon. You had just opened your apartment door, slamming it behind you, kicking off your shoes with a huff. You had gotten home from your boyfriend’s apartment to find Jessie already at your place, making herself at home. She was your best friend and naturally you both had the spare key and an ongoing open invitation to each other’s apartments.

You had texted her to let her know you were leaving his place and she had run over wanting to spend time with you. Your new relationship had been taking up more of your time, the time that Jessie usually got to spend with you.

“Shut up, Jessie.” You say, a bit harsher than you should but you were already annoyed and felt like any small inconvenience could set you off like a bomb. Moving over to the couch, she had already helped herself to chips and a gotten out a pair of beers one for each of you. You slump down next to her, a heavy sigh leaving your body as you bring the bottle to your lips.

“Oh come on, it's a joke.” She gently pushed on your shoulder. “Seriously though, maybe you should try getting laid more often, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Jessie’s eyebrows wiggle suggestively at you. You know she means well, as far as she’s aware getting laid should relax you, and it would, if your boyfriend was any good in bed.

“I’m technically getting laid plenty often Jess, it’s just not helping.” She glances at you, tilting her head in a questioning manner. You realized you messed up with the way you chose to phrase your sentence, she was going to ask questions.

“What does that mean? How are you technically getting-” You shoot her a pointed look, slight scowl across your face, wanting to end this conversation as quickly as possible. Jessie quickly puts two and two together, stopping her sentence and just replying with. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” You look down feeling a slight flush come across your face, embarrassed that you accidentally just admitted to your boyfriend lack of sexual talent.

“I thought you said it was good, you came raving to me after the first time and from what I heard the other day, it sounded like you were having a great time. What happened?” The confused look from before comes back across her face, this time it has a bit of concern mixed in.

Your embarrassment wasn’t aided by the fact that Jessie brought up hearing you and him the other day. You had forgotten to tell her he was coming over and Jessie had opened the door of your apartment to noises that she won’t ever be able to unhear.

Leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, you give her the answer. “I lied, it was fake.” Pinching the bridge of your noses between your thumb and index finger, you wait for her response. Part of you expects her to be angry at you for lying to her. Looking over at her, she doesn’t look angry or upset with you, she looks sad. She’s giving you the same look you would an injured puppy. Her brown eyes soft, a very faint trace of a sympathetic smile across her lips.

“Is it like everytime? You know? That he doesn’t make you…” her sentence trails off as she looks at you. The red flush that had just been on your cheeks starts to cover the rest of your face and neck, clearly embarrassed by what you had said.

“Jess, can we not do this, please?” Covering your face with your hands, you didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone. You didn’t want to have to explain that your boyfriend wasn’t able to satisfy you, that you had to pull out all the acting for him so that he felt satisfied with himself. You especially didn’t want to have to admit this to Jessie, you knew she’d find it hilarious that your boyfriend was bad in bed. She always made comments about how women do it better, specifically how she does it better than anyone. She had a small reputation, not necessarily for making her way around but she had slept with her fair share of girls at school, well known for the rounds she had made in various sororities and sports teams. She was right, most people gave her raving reviews.

Taking the attempt to change the subject as a yes to her previous question Jessie’s mouth drops open, her previously soft eyes now wide, eyebrows raised.

“He’s never made you cum? That’s embarrassing.” She paused before quickly adding, “For him! Not you.” Not wanting you to think she was calling your inability to finish embarrassing.

“Maybe it’s just hard for me to finish, some people are like that, maybe it’s not his fault. I mean he tries.” Cringing at the words as they come out of your mouth, you question why you continue to respond. Jessie was your best friend but this still felt embarrassing.

“Well, is it always hard for you to finish?”

“Obviously, so it must be me, that’s why I haven't been able to finish any of the times I’ve slept with him.” You continue to defend your boyfriend.

“That’s not what I meant. When you’re doing it solo, is it hard to get there?”

“I’m not answering that.” Feeling your face heat up even more than it already was, your skin feeling like it was burning under Jessie’s gaze. You hadn’t expected her to pry for details about you touching yourself.

“Oh come on, don’t be a prude, we all do it.” The deadpan look on her face indicated that she was fully expecting you to answer the question she had proposed.

“No, it’s easy. It’s different when I’m alone though!” Again you came to the man’s defense and you’re honestly not sure why.

“So he’s the problem. That’s not hard to realize.” When you don’t respond or even look in her direction, she adds, “You can’t just continue to convince yourself that you’re the problem.” When you don’t respond to her, she continues on.

“I’d put him to shame, I’ve only ever left happy customers.” She laughs as she says it, bringing her bottle to her lips to finish the drink off.

“I’m sure you would.” Adding an eye roll at her overly confident statement.

“What? You don’t believe me?” Her eyes squint at you now, hand on her own chest as if she was insulted by your words.

“Sure I do,” the sound of sarcasm was dropping off your words, “all I’m saying is talk is cheap Fleming.” Knowing you would be pushing on her nerves a bit, you continued. She had a reputation and it sure was positive, you didn’t actually doubt her abilities, just not confident they’d work on you.

“Well what, do you want me to prove it?”

“What if I said yes?” You’re not sure what made the challenge come out of your mouth. You didn’t even think before saying it. Maybe it was the annoyance with your boyfriend, maybe it was the three months of pent up sexual frustration, maybe it was Jessie’s confidence surrounding her skills.

Jessie doesn’t respond. Panicking as you realize you just asked your best friend to cross a line beyond friendship, you begin to back track.

“You don’t have to, sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I’m not sure why I did, I don’t actually expect you to-.”

You’re cut off by Jessie walking over to you, taking two strides before grabbing your face, tilting it up and bending down so her lips could meet yours. She pulls away for a second, nodding her head in the direction of the couch, her hand coming to your legs to help you move them so you are laying down. Following your actions Jessie climbs onto the couch, placing herself above you and reconnecting your lips.

Jessie was now on top of you, your back pressed firmly into the couch as her weight and hips held you down. Her hands on either side of your head. She continues to kiss you, each kiss growing sloppier. It had moved from sealed lips pressed together to your lips sliding against hers. Now she had started to open the kiss allowing her tongue to tease at your closed lips. It didn’t take much convincing on your end to open your lips and let her tongue meet yours.

Your hands found their way to her hair, one grabbing a handful at the base of her neck and pulling gently away from you. Taking the hint, Jessie pulled back. She opened her eyes to look down at you. Something about her gaze had almost a dominant expression to it, the way she was hovering over you, trapping your body between hers and the couch, you found yourself biting your lower lip as you looked up at her.

“Are you going to prove it or are we just going to makeout?” Impatience has started to spread in your body. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest, the noise loud in your ears. You secretly hoped Jessie couldn’t hear it.

“Are you sure?” Her soft eyes returned as she checked on you. Her eyes scan your face, the same way she would scan a textbook while the two of you would study, as if she was trying to commit every detail to memory.

“Please.” You weren’t usually one to beg in a situation like this but so desperate to finally feel something, you couldn’t help yourself. The last thing you needed was Jessie backing out if she felt like you were uneasy.

“Okay, let’s go then.” She sat back on her feet before moving your thigh out her way, standing up and placing a hand out for you to grab. With the assistance of her hand you stand up as well and follow her as she walks the two of you to your bedroom. Gently shutting the door behind you, Jessie places her hands on your hips gently rubbing her thumbs against the bump of your pelvic bone.

“Are you sure?” You give her a quick nod, eyes locked on hers. “Okay, if you want to stop at any point, just tell me.”

“I will.”

With your confirmation Jessie pulls you toward her again, your chest coming to meet hers. Unsure of where to put your hands you leave them at your sides for a minute. Still kissing you, you feel her hands leave their place on your hips and grab your hands. She pulls your left hand to her waist, just above her hips and your right she moves to her shoulder before her own find their place back on your hips.

Jessie begins to move her hands, they slide up slowly, coming up to cover your waist. They trail around your sides and onto your lower back. Her hands feel electric, leaving a trail of warmth wherever they go. You can feel her hesitation before she begins to slide her hands lower. She slides her hands into the back pockets of your jeans, giving a gentle squeeze. All it takes is that gentle squeeze to get a choked sigh to come out of your throat. Surprised by the noise, Jessie pulls back from your kiss.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no I’m good. Keep going.”

Jessie does just that. Still holding your ass she spins you both, your back now toward the bed. You feel her start to lean forward, encouraging you to step backwards. She continues the pressure until you hit the bed frame, her hands coming off of your ass as you find yourself sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

Jessie gives you a quick peck on the lips before her hands are back on you, this time they meet the bottom of your shirt. She grasps it between her fingers, pausing and looking down at you

“Can I take your shirt off?”

Instead of verbally answering, your hands reach to your shirt, starting to pull it off yourself, she takes the hint and helps remove it for you. The black shirt you had been wearing is flung across the room, landing on your desk. A small gasp leaves your mouth as Jessie bends down grabbing the back of your thighs from where you were sitting on the edge of the bed and moves you toward the center. She climbs on the bed, taking her spot back on top of you.

You watch her eyes as they study your body again, her gaze now floating across your chest where your black bra still hides your breasts. Licking her lower lip, her hand moves, running fingers down from the band of your bra to the top of your jeans. A trail of goosebumps rising in response to her touch. She continues tracing lines and circles across your bare stomach, such a simple act and yet it was making you start to squirm, wanting more from her.

“Jess,” her hand freezes in its path and her eyes glance up to meet yours. Before she has the chance to ask if you’re okay, you add, “take my bra off.”

Leaning down she attaches her lips to yours as her hand previously on her stomach moved to the back of your neck. She gently pulls you forward, encouraging you to sit up. You do so, letting her other hand that had been supporting her body weight move to your back, she unclasps your bra easily. You mentally roll your eyes, knowing Jessie is probably too proud of that one handed skill. She gently lays you back before moving both of her hands to the straps. She pulls the straps down your arms, fully exposing your chest to her.

You watch as her eyes wander from one side to the other. Thankful that she’d see you topless on a few occasions before while changing, you felt a bit more comfortable being exposed to her.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but you have some of the best tits I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen my fair share.” Her eyes meet yours for a second before she is back staring.

“Thanks? I guess.” You’re not sure how to respond to her compliment. She continues to stare, her hands staying firmly on your stomach.

“Do you like them played with?” Her eyes bounce between your breast where your nipples had gone hard from the chill of the room, definitely not from the arousal Jessie, your best friend, was causing you.

“He doesn’t usually do much with them besides like a squeeze.”

“Okay, but I don’t care what he usually does. I’m trying to literally do everything he doesn’t do. I want to know what you like, what feels good to you. Stop thinking about just what he does.”

“Then yes, touch them.”

Jessie doesn’t need to be told twice by a pretty girl to touch her boobs. She sits back putting her weight on her legs freeing her hands. She gently cups your chest in her hands, gently squeezing before she moves her thumbs to graze over your already peaked nipples. You’re watching her movements but you can see in your periphery her eyes are watching your face. It felt good knowing she was watching, her attentiveness, her focus on making you feel good made your head spin. She wanted to please you, he was nothing like this.

She removed her hands temporarily placing them back by your sides to support herself as she leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was short lived as she pulled away, moving to place her lips against your jaw. Her warm mouth moved down, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses down the column of your neck before reaching your collarbone. Letting her tongue graze along the definition of the bone, you let out a sigh, you could feel as she smirked against your skin.

She continued on, making her way down your chest until her lips met the curve of your breast. Her mouth found every inch, intentionally avoiding your nipple. Her teasing only lasted a few seconds before she placed her lips against your nipple. Giving it a gentle kiss, testing the waters before going further. Not hearing any protest she continued. This time sucking with some force, letting her lips wrap around you. A small whimper fell from your lips. Her lips released your skin with a slight pop.

“What? Feels good?” A big smirk was across Jessie’s face, she was feeling proud being able to get you whimpering and moving under her by just barely touching you. Her cockiness was radiating off of her, you couldn’t even lie to yourself now, she may be your best friend but she was fucking hot.

You just give her a quick nod, unable to decide what words to respond with, slightly worried no words will come out, only a moan. Jessie sits back, removing her hands and mouth from your body. She adjusts herself so she is now straddling your leg. She brings herself back down, her lips attaching to the nipple she had been neglecting. With her new position, her thigh is placing pressure on your core, providing you the slightest bit of friction as she moves to attend to your chest. Instead of just sucking, her tongue is now circling, applying soft pressure to your sensitive bud.

“Fuck.” Your hand now reaches up to the back of her head, grabbing a handful of her hair and pushing her face further into your chest, wanting more from her. Happy to oblige, her tongue applies more pressure. As she goes to pull away, her teeth gently graze your skin, sending what feels like a shockwave from your chest down to where her thigh was placing pressure against you. You can’t help but tilt your hips in response, involuntarily grinding yourself against her.

Taking the hint that you were ready to move on, Jessie sat back her fingers trailing down your stomach before pausing at the waistband of your jeans. You felt as the tips of her fingers on one hand found their way between your skin and the band of your underwear. The other hand came to rest where the button of your jeans sat. She paused again, giving you the same look she had when she asked if you were sure, the same look she had given you before asking to take off your shirt, the same look she gave you before she touched you. Knowing she was going to ask, you beat her to it.

“Take them off.” Looking her in the eyes as her hands began to move slowly. She undid the button, slowly pulling down the zipper. Both of her hands finding the sides of your jeans, she begins to slide them down along with your panties, leaving you bare. She carefully removes your jeans, taking the time to pull them off, you lift your hips and legs accordingly. Once she has them removed they find a place on the floor, she turns back to quickly take your socks off and motions for you to lay back down.

Unlike before, Jessie had never seen you fully naked before, shirtless on occasion, a few times she’d seen you just in your underwear, and she had seen you in a swimsuit that didn’t hide much, but now here you were completely naked laying in front of her.

Your own insecurities start swarming in your head, slowly you pinch your knees together, subtly trying to cover yourself.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.” Apparently you had failed to close your legs subtly like you thought.

“No, I still want to, it’s just, I’m naked, and I just became very aware of that.”

“That’s kinda the point,” A soft laugh falls from her lips. “Not that it’ll help, but you should be proud of your body, you’re…” she hesitates “I’d say you're gorgeous but I’m not sure that’ll do it justice.” Jessie sits back up removing her own shirt, leaving her shoulders and stomach exposed.

“Thanks.” Your blush from earlier returning across your cheeks as you tried to accept Jessie’s compliment. You close your eyes taking in a deep breath and you relax your clenched thighs allowing your knees to fall back apart, giving Jessie access to you.

She lays down between your legs, her head even with your knees she turns to the side and places a soft kiss on your thigh before turning to the other one repeating the action.

You can’t help but think about your boyfriend in the moment and compare. Jessie was being so soft, so careful with you, checking in on you, and sure he made sure you wanted to, never doing anything you didn’t want, but this felt more intimate, more comfortable.

Continuing her trail of kissing Jessie slowly begins inching up toward your center. Her hands come up to the bend of your knees, she pushes them outward, spreading your thighs and placing your legs over her bare shoulders, giving you a small amount of skin to skin contact. She moves in close enough that you can feel her warm breath between your legs.

She hesitates, her eyes looking over you. Her tongue darted out wetting her lips before she leaned in. You sucked in air as you felt her tongue meet your center. It moved against your pussy with ease due to your pooling arousal. Tracing a line from your entrance up to your clit, she repeats the motion over and over, her eyes locked upward looking at you.

Her tongue slows down, licking slower and slower stripes before she stops with her tongue on your clit. Focusing on your sensitive bud, she begins flicking her tongue with light pressure. You bite your lip, holding back the moan that wanted to escape. Holding it in only lasted a moment as she began to suck softly, making the movements of her tongue feel even more pleasurable. As you had done before, your hands tangle themselves in her hair, pulling tightly on the strands. Small moans now fill the air of your bedroom, no longer feeling like holding them in.

The mixture of warmth and wetness of her tongue makes you throw your head back. You couldn’t help but stare at her, something about her looking up at you from between your legs, while she was eating you out made your brain feel fuzzy.

Pushing your thigh out with her hand, Jessie gave herself enough room to bring her arm up between your legs, her middle finger coming up to rest against your hole. She didn't push in yet, just resting her finger against you and slowly circling the opening. Her tongue still working against you, you could start to feel the faint clench on your abdomen, the same clench you would feel as you would bring yourself close to orgasm when you were by yourself.

Feeling Jessie’s finger enter, you clench around her, causing her to stop moving her finger and her lips to detach from your core as she looks up at you, you release her hair from your tight grip, just letting them rest on her head.. The sight of her looking up at you with messy hair and your wetness covering her lips and chin was not something you had prepared for.

“Are you alright? Sorry I should’ve asked before I used my fingers.” You could see her blown pupils from here, barely any brown remaining around them.

“No I’m good, it feels good, please keep going,” your voice comes out with a slight rasp that you weren’t expecting. Clearing your throat you add, “you can use two.”

Hearing your request, Jessie’s lips and tongue return to your now swollen and red clit. Her hand pushes up and back on your leg, giving herself even more room between your thighs. Still moving slowly Jessie begins to push her middle and ring finger into you. The feeling of her fingers opening you has you throwing your head back, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling. Jessie takes her time still moving only a knuckle at a time, making sure you were open enough around her. You feel your muscles clench again from the feeling of her long fingers along with her tongue.

She pauses when she’s fully inside of you. Instead of thrusting her fingers she just begins to curl them, placing pressure against your walls.

“Fuck Jessie.” Eyes snapping open as you register that you had just moaned her name. You keep your gaze at the ceiling, not daring to look down at the Canadian between your legs. Without looking at her you feel her reaction as she lets out a small moan of her own, the noise causing her lips to reverberate around your clit.

Her tongue continues its movements, she could feel you beginning to tighten around her fingers, becoming increasingly difficult for her to curl them inside of you. She begins thrusting her fingers slightly, still curving them up but adding more movement. The new movement is all you need, the warmth and tightness of your incoming orgasm begin to increase and spread.

“Please Jess.” You’re not even sure what you’re begging her to do, wanting so badly for her to push you over the edge, whatever it takes is good with you. You feel the pace of her fingers speed up slightly, the suction from her lips around your clit increases. The muscles of your thighs begin trembling as you become increasingly sensitive. Your back slowly pulls away from the bed as your arch into her touch. You only last a few more seconds on the edge before your orgasm washes over you.

A loud groan is released from your body as your hand firmly grasp Jessie’s head between your thighs. You push her hard into yourself as your hips move to grind yourself against her face. Your shaking legs wrapping around her head, your walls clenching her fingers so tight they no longer move in and out of you, just curling inside. The pleasure lasts a few seconds before it becomes too much, you let your legs fall off her shoulders and onto the bed. The hands that previously held her tight against you are pushing her back, she releases her lips from you. Her fingers remain inside of you, as you are still clenched around them.

Jessie doesn’t say anything immediately, she just looks up at you from between your legs, face covered in your arousal, her cheeks a slight red from her work. Waiting a second for you to catch your breath, her fingers stay still inside of you. With her free hand she swipes her thumb across her chin, collecting the mixture of her own spit and your wetness, bringing her thumb between her lips to suck it clean. She feels you begin to relax around her fingers, recovering from the intense pleasure, she slowly pulls out of you, a groan leaving your lips as she does so.

Her lips place one last quick kiss on your core, causing you to jump, pulling away from her, slightly being over stimulated. She moves from between your legs, laying down on her side next to you. She pulls the blanket up with her, covering your body and hers with it.

“See I told you it wasn’t you. It’s him.” You turned over to see her shit eating grin, you could still smell yourself on her face. You have the urge to reach out and make her kiss you, wanting to taste yourself from her lips.

“Shit.” Rolling back away you breathed out the word, staring at the ceiling. The reality of the situation comes back into your mind. Your best friend had just made you cum with ease, a task your soon to be ex-boyfriend hadn’t been able to do in the months you had been seeing him.

“What? Are you okay?”

“Yeah I just need to break up with my boyfriend.”

[bluelockmaniac]

baking disaster (ft. itoshi sae)

synopsis: you try to persuade your boyfriend into making cookies with you, but he's not the best baker.

cw: lots of fluff!! mentions of making out, i think sae slaps your butt once

author's note: i literally had to watch a cookie tutorial to make this fic because if baking were a sport, i'd definitely be on the bench permanently. so, i apologize to all bakers out there.

here you were, sitting on the couch next to your boyfriend, desperately clinging onto his chest as he fixates his bored gaze at what he called a 'pathetic excuse' of a football match. the only somewhat affectionate gesture he's giving you is an unexciting arm slung carelessly around your shoulder.

while sae was in practice, you had dedicated two hours dolling yourself up; attending to every little detail of your appearance carefully. you even lit a few vanilla-scented candles in the living room to romanticize the atmosphere, all in order to have a fun date night and bake cookies together. so, why have you spent the last thirty minutes attempting to convince him to follow through with your plans?

"sae," you whine softly, deliberately pressing more of your body against him as you bat your eyelashes pleadingly in an attempt to get his attention, and hopefully change his mind.

"pleasee, just this once! bake chocolate chip cookies with me!"

he cocks his head subtly, looking over at you with half-lidded eyes. "i told you already, darling. i can't bake for shit."

"i know you're probably more likely to start a kitchen fire than bake a decent cookie, but that's why i'm here!"

you look up at him lovingly as his hand travels to your cheek, giving it a light squeeze.

"if that's what it takes to shut you up, then i guess i'll make these lukewarm cookies."

he quickly plants a chaste kiss on your lips as the trace of a very unnoticeable—yet unmistakable— smirk appears on his mouth.

in the kitchen, you rolled up your sleeves and gestured towards the pantry and cabinets, instructing sae to look for the dry ingredients with a rather authoritative tone.

"sae, find the flour, baking soda, and salt. they should be in there somewhere."

he rolls his eyes and gives your ass a light slap, "when'd you get so bossy, pretty?"

you giggle as he disappears into the pantry, turning your attention to the bowl on the counter. with determination, you begin to vigorously beat the soft butter and the brown and white sugar together until it formed a chunky mixture.

"y/n," you hear your boyfriend's frustrated voice call out as he walks closer to you with a displeased expression. "i can't find the ingredients, where'd you even bury them?"

"oh sweetheart," rolling your eyes with a mocking grin tugging on your lips, you teasingly smack his chest and enter the pantry, effortlessly locating the loathsome ingredients that caused your lovely boyfriend's annoyance. "you really couldn't find the ingredients that were practically screaming their location? how lukewa—"

"y/n."

"cute, i meant cute!" you defend yourself with a wholehearted laugh, unaware of the genuine smile forming on sae's lips as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear (his smile quickly dissipated into a more subtle one once you turned towards him).

"sae, get me two eggs... in the fridge."

he lets out a soft sigh and places them on the counter, looking at you for further instruction. "well?"

you shake your head, feigning disappointment as your hand finds its way to your forehead.

"crack the eggs, silly,"

"oh, right..."

"and make sure to do it gentl—"

crack

sae slams the egg on the counter with an unnecessarily excessive force, sending shells and egg whites flying everywhere across the kitchen.

"oh. oops." he says blankly, staring at the slimy mess in his hands— and the counter. he looks over to you expecting to be scolded, but is instead greeted with your loud laughter, your banging fists assaulting the poor counter.

"seriously sae...haha...ha... what did you expect would happen??"

he glances away in embarrassment and quickly washes his hands. "shut up."

"it's okay, love, you can try aga—"

"no."

"—thought so. okay, i'll do it, can you measure half a teaspoon of salt? the measuring cups are over there."

you point somewhere in the kitchen as you turn your attention back to the bowl, cracking two eggs and adding vanilla extract into the mixture.

"baby, let's mix the dry ingredients now!"

you say excitedly as sae appears behind you, placing his hands on your waist as he gently kisses your neck.

without you noticing, your boyfriend scoops a handful of flour. "y/n."

when you turn around, unsuspecting, he brings his hands close to your face and blows the flour from his hands, dusting your cheeks and nose with the powdery residue.

"what the— sae!" you were caught completely off guard at his playful and not so sae-coded gesture, and after seeing him laugh—a rare sight to behold—you couldn't help but break into laughter as well (his laugh is very contagious).

"you look adorable,"

he teases, caging you against the kitchen counter with his strong limbs, preventing you from returning his pleasant surprise.

"heyy, that's not fair!" you huff in annoyance as you squirm around his arms.

"life's not fair, mi amor."

after (a small session of making out), you instruct sae to mix the flour, salt, and baking soda—which he does uncooperatively— you mix combine the powdery compound with the wet mixture.

"alrightt, time for the fun part!" you exclaim cheerfully, lightly smacking the bag of chocolate chips against his chest as you stare at his powder-covered face. a few moments ago, while you were making out, your flour-dusted hands left many imprints on his cheeks. "i'll add the amount you want because you look adorable."

he rolls his eyes, an irritating smirk ghosting over his mouth as he attempts to brush away the lingering flour from his face. "hm. then don't add too mu—"

"on second thought, your charm won't sway me into accepting your very absurd demand— they're chocolate chip cookies, sae, not classic cookies!" you protest, pouring in a bit more than a cup of chocolate chips into the batter, meeting his gaze with a proud, cheeky smile as he sighs and raises his hands in defeat.

"you're a brat."

—

you sit on the kitchen counter, a proud smile on your lips as you watch him awkwardly roll the chocolate chip dough into imperfect little spheres, then place them onto the baking tray in a slightly messy arrangement. you had managed to persuade him after telling him they would resemble miniature soccer balls, and now looking at his attentive features, you couldn't help but snap a few pictures to treasure this moment.

giggling softly, you affectionately ruffle his hair, teasing, "i've never seen you so focused on anything other than soccer, handsome."

he huffs and presses his lips together before giving you a light nudge. "you brought out my hidden talent."

"pftt. yeah. talent." you snort mockingly, running your hand soothingly up and down his back.

rolling his eyes, he pushes the baking tray in your direction, a faint pout on his lips, "oh, be quiet."

you carefully place the tray in the oven before joining him in the living room, where he immediately plops down onto the couch. attempting to squeeze in beside him, you gently nudge him, "sae, move over," but he looks at you lazily and shrugs, "just lay on the other couch or something."

puffing out your cheeks in frustration, you chose to lay on his chest instead. without hesitation, he quickly pulls you closer by the waist, snuggling you warmly as his hands find their way to your ass.

fifteen minutes later, you cautiously remove the tray from the oven (sae didn't remove it because he was scared of the heat radiating from the oven) and set it on the counter to cool, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you lean against your boyfriend. "baby, don't they look delicious?" you ask eagerly, impatiently tapping your fingers against the marble surface. "meh," he replied nonchalantly, purposely trying to annoy you.

"okay pretty boy, you taste it first," you say with a short giggle, offering sae a cookie near his mouth. hesitantly, he takes a bite. with soon-to-be misconceived pride, you optimistically ask, "soo, how does it tas—" your words trail off as he spits the cookie into the trash, his face contorting in disgust. "blegh,"

you were caught off guard, and rolled your eyes in disappointment, "oh come on, sae. it can't be that bad," you say confidently, taking a daring bite of the cookie in an attempt to prove him wrong. however, this fleeting confidence immediately turns into regret as you gag and hurriedly spit it into the trash. "ew, what the fuck?" you choke in disgust, reaching for two glasses and hastily fill them with water. you pass one to sae and quickly chug down the water to wash away the unpleasant taste.

"why is it so salty?" you ask in confusion, closing your eyes as you ponder in thought. you suddenly notice your boyfriend's uncharacteristic type of silence, watching how he presses his lips together and avoids meeting your gaze. there is definitely a subtle hint of guilt in those narrowed teal eyes fixated on the baking tray of cookies. your eyes widen in realization, "wait a minute," you begin, connecting his behaviour with your growing suspicion.

"sae, show me the measuring cup you used to measure the salt,"

"...it's over there," your eyes follow his finger, and eventually settle on the culprit responsible for the cookie failure—the measuring cup sitting innocently on the kitchen counter.

you smack your forehead at the comical mistake sae had made, then turn to look at him. he was still trying to avoid your eyes, but eventually sighs and meets your gaze awkwardly.

"sweetheart, that's a 1/4 cup, not half a teaspoon! that's about eleven teaspoons too many!" you say shaking your head with amusement.

he runs the back of his neck as he yet again focuses his eyes on something else,

"...oh."

bonus:

late at night, you two are cozily draped over the couch, wrapped in each other's arms. sae had ordered takeout to make amends for the baking mishap— although he stubbornly claimed "it was deliberate— to enhance the flavour,". despite the cookie baking failure, you enjoyed you and your boyfriend's special bonding in the kitchen. you wished the next time you two baked together, it would turn out a success.

"don't wanna. also, why am i rolling the dough on your lock screen wallpaper?"

thank you for reading! comments appreciated :)

[dilfcho]

when in need

alien!choso x fem!reader wc: 2k warnings: guided masturbation, handjob (?), he's a mess (in every way), you grab His tits and he puts his face in yours, you kind of put him in a headlock, clingy!cho, MDNI! a/n: this is a continuation of miscommunication!! sorry no tentacles maybe next time...

sweat prickles choso’s flushed skin. something about this entire encounter makes him feel like he did something wrong, like he wasn’t supposed to have his sweats hooked under his dick while he came all over himself in your bed. despite this guilt, he craves your touch. thoughts in his brain tumble over each other, fighting over who gets to speak first. when the tussle never ends, he speaks with his eyes.

he looks at you, his needy gaze boring into your skull until his eyes widen to emphasize that he needs you. when he quickly glances at the hard, leaking problem in his fist, and then back at you, an understanding nod shoots his way and you walk towards him.

“do you need help?”

a hand still cradles himself, occasionally squeezing or pumping to keep himself under control. he fervently nods his head and pumps himself twice to show you what he means. he forgets that doing so gives him that weird feeling, and halfway through the second stroke, he pauses to shudder.

“i know what you mean, cho,” you giggle, “you don’t have to show me.”

“then show me…” he trails off, lost on what he’s actually asking you to do. he goes to demonstrate once more but you catch his wrist. the sensation of your skin on his sets his cheeks on fire, somehow feeling hotter than they were when you walked in here.

“masturbating, cho. touching yourself, jerking off. there are too many names for it but… that’s what you’re doing. feels good right?”

“it does, it’s really good.”

“can i touch you…” you remove your grip on his wrist and point a finger at what he’s still holding, “here?”

he quickly lets go of himself to make room for your hand. this is exactly what he pictured just minutes earlier. this is exactly what got him off. when he mustered up the visual of you with him on this bed, he came soon after. if a pretend scenario made him feel that good, he can’t imagine what the real thing would do to him.

“yes, touch me there!” it came out a little too excitedly, like he was waiting his whole life for you to ask that. you take a seat next to him on your now ruined sheets, and he makes room for you by slinging an arm up to rest on the pillows by his head. you lay by him and it presses against you, almost holding you closer, so you lean into him. while lying on your side, you prop your head up on your hand so you can look down at him.

he feels the roughness of your jeans against his hip while you adjust your position. it’s an uncomfortable feeling to him and he deems them unnecessary. his free hand goes to pull back the denim on your thigh and let go so it falls back into place.

“none of this,” he blurts.

“you have to say please.”

“please?”

“when you want something, you say please.”

“take it off, please?”

you strip yourself of your jeans, leaving you in only a shirt and underwear. choso’s mouth waters as more and more of your skin is exposed to him. you’re so close, touching your knee to his when you put yourself back into his side. “you’re so controlling, cho.” you jest, rubbing circles into his hip. he purses his lips and gulps down the noise that threatened to break out. he can’t even apologize. his body is anything but relaxed the more you touch him. the stray strands of brown hair that fall over his face are pushed back by your hand, the tingles that your nails scraping against his scalp cause turning to a shiver that you snicker at.

“you need to relax, cho. it’s just me.”

that was the exact reason why he couldn’t. he doesn’t even want to think about someone else being so intimate with him, caring for him the way you do, going out of your way to teach him about the things you do in your daily life. his cock almost deflates at the idea.

“give me your hand, i’ll show you, yeah?” you were so sweet, he could practically taste it on his tongue. it would explain the energy he has built up, but thankfully you were there to tire him out. he lets go of himself and thinks about how long he’s held that position. some of the cum that leaked through his fingers is starting to dry, making his nose wrinkle in disgust. he feels embarrassed that you have to hold said hand, but his emotions do a 180 when you spit in his palm.

“sometimes you need lubrication so you don’t just rub yourself dry. there’s actual lube that you can buy but i don’t think we’ll need that. this’ll work just fine.”

his hand is guided by yours, resting overtop his partially wet fingers. you don’t seem to mind the mess.

“i like to start at the tip if i’m using my hand, but you can learn what you like on your own time. or we can learn together if you’d prefer that. if i’m using my mouth i’d lick it, around here,” you stretch out his finger to run along the underside of his head. he mewls at the contact, barely containing himself.

the guidance you bring with your palm is careful, seemingly cautious not to overwhelm him. the smeared saliva you left in his hand starts to dip down, slowly drawing a string that connects it to his base. you pick it up with your pinky and wipe it onto his shaft so it doesn’t go to waste. the sound he lets out makes him wish you were closer to him so he could bite onto your neck to shut himself up.

“you were doing it correctly when i walked in. do it again, show me how you did it.” his hand now lays alone so he can demonstrate. he recalls how he wrapped his fingers around it gently, just like the movie showed him. he starts to regret laying his arm behind you because now he can’t hide his face from you. though your head didn’t lean on his bicep, your closeness wasn’t something he was willing to give up. the quick glances you shoot between him and his cock are enough to get him bucking his hips into nothing. it’s torturous knowing you’re right next to him, so close, yet he still has to use his imagination to get off. the shy thrusts he gives his fist are short-lived, not wanting to go on without your help.

“no, you need to help me. your hand is what helped me, please,” the desperation in his voice was nearly alarming. if he wasn’t just jerking off you’d think his life was at risk. the dreamy sensation of you touching him over his hand was already too much, but he can’t miss out on the chance you’ve given him. you fold and lend yourself. you carry out faster, wetter strokes, causing every muscle in his body to tense with pleasure. he fights the urge to slowly slip his hand away so it’s only you doing the work, but he knows if he were to do so, you’d pull away just the second he does. this is a lesson after all.

the bend your wrist was in from acting as a headrest was getting to be too much. you lift your head to allow yourself to stretch out, instead scooting yourself up so you could slip it underneath the arch of his neck, your head leaning against his. the feeling of your fingers sliding across the nape of his neck to wrap itself around him booted him much closer to his climax. you almost had him in a chokehold, your touch so soft against his shoulders, then his chest, squeezing aimlessly at the muscle.

“you don’t have to go so fast, it’s okay to relax. cumming doesn’t have to happen right away and it’s not always the end goal. as long as it feels good, okay?”

“no, i want to cum for you. i want to be good and say please. like you told me!”

his words slur, becoming more impatient as he went on. he so desperately wants you to want him, to want this with him all the time. the gentle eyes that watch over him make him tremble, ready to let go.

“we don’t— you don’t have to do anything for me, cho. i’m doing this for you, i want to help and make you happy, yeah?”

choso was for sure not listening, and he felt bad for not paying attention. he musters up a way to not blatantly ignore you by nodding his head in agreement about as eagerly as he can. he fears the pressure in his lower half can’t be pushed down anymore, the sensation growing unbearable. the sounds your combined touches make no longer borderline on lewd, instead becoming something more. something so nasty yet so sweet to his ears.

hips lifting off the bed, choso shoves his face into you. he does it in hopes of keeping you from seeing his face as he’s about to come, but he fails to realize that what he thought was your neck is actually your chest. when he feels the squish of your tits against his chin, he doesn’t pull back. you take advantage of his wants, cradling his head further into you. with heavy pants, he whimpers through the cotton of your shirt.

“let me cum, tell me to do it, please, let me…” you can barely make out what he’s saying, but by the way he’s practically crying into you, hips stuttering into the air to chase your joint fists, you can make a good guess. it doesn’t take long until he’s somehow more of a whiny mess than before and confining himself in your tight hold. you’re about to tell him he doesn’t have to ask, that he doesn’t need your permission. then, it clicks. this is how he wants to do it, this is his way. with you.

like music to his ears, you whisper the words he so desperately wanted to hear. he hopes they stay swirling in his head for eternity. with the arm that’s wrapped around him, you rest your hand on his collarbone, thumbing it as the one on his cock is dragged up and down in unison with his. white ropes cover your knuckles, some of it sticking your hand to his. he even splatters onto his own chest and your arm, the wet, warm substance dripping over the mounds as he twists his torso closer to you.

thank you’s are huffed into your tits, his breath hot through the fabric. rubbing up his chest, you make it to his chin to grab it. you lift him up to look at you.

“you did good, cho… so good for me…” you press chaste kisses to his hairline, fingers tickling his face. “you can do it on your own now, i think you learned—” choso’s eyes widen faster than you can process. reluctantly pulling himself from your hold, he shakes his head. his sticky hands grab tight under your knee to pull it over him, hopefully getting your attention.

“i didn’t! what about you? we have more to learn. you have more to teach,” he exclaims. he wants more. no, needs more. he tries to imagine masturbating without you, not having your body next to his. it’s boring. pointless, even.

“i never said you have to, just that you can if you ever want to. don’t worry, i’ll help you whenever.” his breathing is still erratic, frustrated at the idea of pleasuring himself alone. “breathe, choso. i’ll always help you,” you emphasized.

he repositioned himself back in your arms, this time the hand that grasped your leg moved up and under the back of your shirt, pushing you into him. the wetness squished between your bodies, making you wince.

“i need to get a towel, we’re covered in—”

“i’m comfortable.”

“it’s going to dry, you’ll feel gross.”

“i don’t want you to leave,” he admits. he looks like a puppy in your arms, you can’t deny him.

“i’d never.”

-

mlist

[mull3ts]

[ 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐘? ]

⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut (18+), Dilf! Aged Up! Stepfather! Jeno, CNC, Unprotected Sex, Daddy Kink, Somnophilia, Mentions of anal sex

“Is she the missus?” Jaemin asks his friend. Jeno’s wide eyes flicker between you and back to Jaemin. He’s making sure you’re not listening.

“I wish.” He quietly sighs.

But, Jaemin looks confused. “Then who the fuck did you marry?”

Jeno’s lips form a thin line. “Her mother.”

Jaemin does a double take, nearly spitting out his coffee. “You? Married her mother? Surely her mother has to be…”

Jeno shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure I was drunk and happened to be in Vegas.” His lips are a thin line, mostly out of embarrassment and half out of regret.

Jaemin sighs. “Well,” his eyes flicker to your form in Jeno’s kitchen, studying you while you mess with whatever you’re studying for. “I don’t promote anything slightly immoral, but if you’re not gonna…” he makes a gesture. “then I gladly will.” he admits, ready to get up and call your name. Jeno nearly bodyslams him back onto the couch they sit on.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

Jaemin’s laughing now. “See! You do wanna do a little something or two to her I fuckin’ knew it!”

Jeno quickly glances at you, who’s completely absorbed in work, then faces Jaemin again. “Shut the hell up,” he grumbles.

“You’re leaving right now.” He continues, effectively shoving his friend out of his house with a sigh.

“Her mom’s not even home half the time, Jeno!” Jaemin nearly screams. Jeno knows. He knows.

He goes to the kitchen to find you still sitting at the island counter, still studying away. You’re a smart girl, he knows that. He also knows, however, how shy you can be—especially with him. He often wonders if he ever rubbed you the wrong way.

“Y/n, honey, m’gonna head to bed, m’kay?” He says, his hand placed on the small of your back.

“M’kay.” You hum. You barely look up at him but he still smiles, walking upstairs to his room.

That’s what he finds so endearing about you—you can barely look at him. He always sees you when you stride to his car when yours breaks down, he sees you talk to your friends, peers, teachers; you’re always so confident. But with him—you can barely bring yourself to look at his eyes.

Even after doing it just once.

At first, he thought maybe he did something to make you resentful. He thought marrying your mother so abruptly or causing you to move into his house from your dorm made you dislike him or maybe just the lack of closeness after it happened. The thought chewed at him until he finally asked.

“Did I do anything wrong, sweetheart?”

Your eyes went wide, though you didn’t look at him, your eyes remained trained on your laptop. You didn’t want to look at him when all he was wearing was a flimsy tank top. “N-No.”

“Mhm. I just can’t help but think-”

“No, no, I- I’m sorry I just— Y-you didn’t do anything wrong but,” you were mumbling now “you’re just so much that you’re just intimidating.”

The corner of Mr. Lee’s mouth turned up a little. “Well thank you for being honest, honey. ” he decided to take a leap of faith and kiss your temple. “Daddy appreciates it.” He left the room, smiling to himself at the way your eyes grew wide.

He didn’t do a single thing wrong, apparently. He guessed you were just a little shy.

Which, there was nothing wrong with until that one fateful day where you both kind of got into another entanglement.

Jeno was just about to get in bed when he heard a thud in the kitchen. He would’ve put on a shirt, but he was honestly so out of it that he didn’t think twice about trudging downstairs in only his pajamas.

The house was dark, the kitchen was dark. He could only make out your form trying to jump the counters to reach something on the top shelf.

Jeno thought he was dreaming.

This had to be a wet dream, right? You were staring right at him, and you never do that.

The only thing you were wearing was one of his shirts he’d given you a couple of months ago and panties. Your panties were pink. And frilly. And had a bow on them. He was gonna die.

He blinked. Several times. “Whatcha’ doin’, honey?”

“I- I’m trying to g-get a glass.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Why?”

You’ve never been so confused in your entire life. And you couldn’t quite see his eyes too well in the darkness causing you to make direct eye contact with him. You blinked.

“Cause’ I’m thirsty.”

He hummed, walking closer to you and placing his hand on the small of your back. “Well maybe don’t climb on the counters, or else you could get hurt.” He easily reached above you for the glass, lifted you to sit on the counter, then walked to the fridge, pulling out the water.

“And I don’t think you wanna get hurt,” he continued, filling the glass “and I certainly don't want you to get hurt.”

You nodded. Unlike Mr. Lee, you were never quite sure if he likes you the way you like him. That is—until now.

He finished pouring the glass and held it up to your lips, “C’mon, baby.” He looked at you expectantly.

This man was out of his mind.

His eyes never left yours as you drank, smiling just a little saying “Good girl.” when you finished, setting the glass in the sink.

You watched his eyes narrow slightly at the droplet of water on the corner of your mouth, wiping it away with his thumb. You both just stared at each other for a few seconds, maybe taunting each other, daring the other to do something.

Mr. Lee took yet another leap of faith, letting his dick think rather than his brain. Fuck him.

His hand wrapped around the back of your throat, pulling you closer…closer…closer…he was going to hell. He sighed in bliss when his lips touched yours. He’s a hundred and one percent sure he could die like this. Maybe he heard a little protest of “Mr. Lee—” but he was sure it didn’t quite matter because you whimpered against his lips.

Jeno has this in the bag.

You were shocked, taken aback, confused, slightly disoriented. Did Mr. Lee just kiss you, again? Is he kissing you? Yeah—he’s kissing you and you’re still not sure how to kiss back. What you are sure of, however, is you’re making rather lewd noises all over again just because he’s kissing you.

Oh god. He pulled away. You wonder if he thinks you maybe don’t like him for not kissing back. But your thoughts are squashed when he smiles at you, chuckles at you. There’s no way in hell you can look at him now.

“Oh c’mon,” he chuckles, his hand grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. He coos. “Why so shy, pretty baby?”

His stare is taunting as your eyes flicker up, back and forth from his right eye to his left eye, trying to decipher what on Earth just happened.

You bite your lip, too afraid to say anything.

“Awe, don’t be so shy, sweetcheeks,” he coos again, shaking your head side to side a bit. “We both know you like kissing your stepdad just a little too much, don’t we, honey?”

You nod your head, slowly. He begins to nod with you, slowly growing to a more confident nod as if he needs to pry it out of you.

“It’s okay though, m’kay? I like kissing you a little too much, too.” He admits. You nod.

You wonder what happens next. You let your thoughts run wild, frankly unsure of the situation. “C-Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

Mr. Lee kisses your cheek. “Course’ you can sweetheart.” he grins, letting you off the counter and walking with you to his room.

You get settled in his bed, under his covers. It smells like him. His entire room smells like him.

Your mind wanders again, thinking why you did this, when you’re abruptly pulled out of your thoughts now being roughly pulled by an arm around your waist.

“C’mere,” Mr. Lee groans, quickly pulling you to his side. His hand securely on your waist, you wriggle around, but he doesn’t budge. “What goes on in that pretty head of yours.” He mumbles to no one but himself, you barely heard it.

You hum. Not a single second thought in your brain. And drift off to sleep like it’s nothing.

Jeno doesn’t. He doesn’t drift off to sleep like it’s nothing. He wakes up periodically. It drives him insane.

He wakes up to your ass rubbing against his dick in the night. You don’t move much, but you do squirm and your hand eventually intertwines with his during the night. He’s happy, horny, and sleepy all at once.

It’s 5 a.m. He should really sleep now, but he still can’t.

Instead, he thinks about ways to solve his problem. Jerk off in the bathroom? Find a melatonin pill somewhere? No, he tells himself, all of those require him getting up and leaving you and by the way you’re securely holding his hand, he doesn’t think he can do that too easily. He props himself up on his elbow and just looks at you. You’re so pretty he could cry. He thinks about his options. Until your ass rubs against his dick again, only this time—you whine out.

He thinks too deeply about you. Would you be mad at him if the second time he fucked you was when you were asleep? Maybe.

But maybe not. You roll over on your side, laying on top of him. He’s shocked. You’re straddling him in your sleep. Fuck him—he can really feel your cunt on his dick.

He begged someone in his brain to give you a wet dream.

Luckily for Mr. Lee, you were having a wet dream about none other than him.

Screw it, he told himself. You looked so peaceful sleeping with your cheek resting on his chest. He reached down to the waistband of his pajamas, pulling his dick out, feeling it rise up and slap against your clothed cunt. His hand roamed around your area, hooking his finger with the hemline of your panties and pulling it to the side to reveal your soppy cunt. You were definitely having a wet dream. There was no way you were this wet just by chance alone. He carefully lifted your shirt above your head, placing it on the floor, and sighing in a version of content when he felt his skin against yours.

And, to be fair, he did stick in two of his fingers, just to see how tight you were. You could barely take in two of his fingers, but honestly; he told himself you’d be fine—you were sleeping after all.

He notched himself at your entrance, his eyes hooded with lust before they rolled back into his head, slowly but surely plunging his dick inside. You were wet, tight, warm, in other words—you felt like you fell from heaven just for him.

The moment he’s halfway inside you, he mentally groans. But he then, mentally kicks himself.

“Mr. Lee?”

You woke up.

“...Yes?”

You’re honestly so hazy that you can’t tell what’s real and not real. Did he fuck you or was that just a dream? You’re not really sure, but what you do know is that your panties are soaked, something about you feels full, and you’re looking up at the man in question.

“W-What are you-,” you squint, slightly beginning to laugh at the situation (he learns at that moment he loves your laugh) “y’know I had a dream, a r-really weird dream a-and you were—oh.” Something suddenly thrust inside you, and this something was rather…large, fat, thick.

You know what it is.

It was exactly what you’d been dreaming about.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your face melted into sheer pleasure and pain when he forced your hips down to the base of his cock, making you take all of him.

Maybe he should’ve prepared you.

That’s what he gets for thinking with his dick.

His hands are firm on your hips, showing no sign of letting go or allowing your escape. He’s forcing you up and down his cock, breathing heavily as you bite back whimpers.

“You’ll do exactly as I tell you, alright?”

You nod, not feeling the need to question him. After all, he is supposed to be a sort of “father figure” to you, though clearly he’s failed.

“Then stop biting your lip and lemme’ hear you.”

You release your bottom lip from your teeth, letting all your moans; all your whimpers out for him to hear.

“Such a good girl for Daddy,” he praises, beginning to move you faster, making you grasp onto his shoulders for support.

You’re tired, but you can’t make this stop; you don’t want this to stop. Especially since he just called himself Daddy. You were going to combust. You’re still not sure how you got to this point, but what you do know is that you’re pretty sure you’re smiling like an idiot; pathetic whimpers leaving your mouth while Mr. Lee groans in your ear, his hands being the only thing from making you go wild.

There’s one particular thrust when your nails dig into his shoulders. Mr. Lee quickly responded, landing a harsh spank to your ass. “Naughty girl.” he murmured.

You tried everything in your limited power to prevent yourself from showing any sign that you were so close so soon; but you just couldn’t hide it. Not when you were so tightly wrapped around Mr. Lee. He picked up on it immediately.

“Pretty girl’s gonna cum, hm?” he snickers, pounding even harder up into you—you’re sure he’s hitting something deep inside of you when pressure hits you suddenly and Mr. Lee’s breath catches.

“Did you feel that, honey?” he moans right in your ear.

“Mhm.” you nod.

“You know what t-that was?”

You shake your head. “Uh-uh.”

He only chuckles. “It’s what you feel when you’re stuffed all full of your Daddy.”

You whine into his chest, never quite caring that his sweaty skin was against your own—in fact, you could get used to it. What you couldn’t get used to, was the orgasm building up inside you. It was going to be big and questioned if you were going to cry.

“Why don’t you tell me what that dream of yours was about, baby.”

You finally glare up at Mr. Lee while he’s smiling down at you like an idiot, though his brows are slightly furrowed. “C’mon,” he encourages. “Was I in your dream?”

“Y-Yes.”

“W-What,” he had to let out a groan “What was I doin’?”

“I-” you were about to begin, but the feeling of embarrassment and his dick inside of you stopped you. That was—until his hand reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look directly at him.

“Why so shy, honey? Don’t tell me I need to tell you what was goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”

You’re about to protest, but you feel like you’re dissolving in his arms. “Such a shy baby.” he mumbles before ramming his cock harder. “I bet…I was fuckin’ you. M-Maybe not like this, but I was fucking you. Exactly how you wanted, huh.”

You’re nodding frantically, you could basically taste your orgasm.

“Tell me the rest or I’ll pull out.”

Mr. Lee himself just threw an ultimatum at you.

You would be mad—if your orgasm hadn’t suddenly hit you.

Since when were ultimatums such a turn on?

You spilled everything. “W-We were on the c-couch and you bent me over the armrest a-and you fucked me, you pulled my hair, and y-you kept calling me your bad little girl a-and…”

“And?” Mr. Lee growled, immediately demanding to know the rest when you suddenly stopped. Unbeknownst to you, he was chasing his own high too.

“A-And you kept spanking me calling me a naughty girl and—Daddy!” your felt hot liquid rushing into you, slowly oozing out of your fluttering walls as Mr. Lee’s pace still never died down.

“Keep. Going.” Jeno was sure the veins in his neck might’ve been popping out just a bit.

You were breathless at this point. “Y-You said fuck…fucking my pussy w-was for w-when I was a good girl.”

He let go of your jaw; watching in enamor as your cheek fell on his heaving chest, panting trying to watch your breath.

Jeno thinks he’s the happiest man in the world.

“I was fucking your…” he trails off, waiting for your answer.

You were too embarrassed for your own good.

He grabbed your jaw again, a little gentler this time. He had this stupid smirk on his face. “Don’t be so shy honey, tell me.”

“...you were fucking my ass.” you said as quietly as humanly possible. But Mr. Lee heard it. And he was chuckling at you, still not daring to pull out of your cunt while he held you close to him in his arms.

“I’ll remember that for next time.” he beamed.

★ Why So Shy? | A “One Way Ticket” work | wc: 2.8k

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©earth-to-that-asian/mull3ts, 2023

[natailiatulls07]

Mafia boss!Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Summary - All this time she thought he worked in finance but turns out she had been sharing the bed with a dangerous man for just under a decade

Warnings - One gun, swearing, one death, kind of kidnapping??

A/n - This is a dark one for me honestly, don't know where it came from but I hope you like it lol

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He had spent just under a decade masking his career to his partner, saying that he worked in finance. He was doing it to protect her; she needed to be protected. She hadn’t meant to see it honestly.

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“I’m gonna ask you one more time, who do you work for?” The Spanish accent echoed through the basement, completely concealed from the lushest mansion above. Carlos was sat in his chair with cigarette femmes surrounding him. In front of him sat a scruffy and trembling man, someone who was found to be dealing information to a rival mafia.

A few moments passed, and the man was becoming an irritation for Carlos. And with a sigh, he held out a hand for his gun before Charles placed it in his hand. “You have one more chance..”

It all happened so fast, one second he was so engraved in serving the man his final seconds and then next his eyes snapped up to the sound of a gasp. At the bottom of the stairs stood Y/n, a hand hovering over her mouth in shock.

And then he saw the terrified eyes not even glancing away from the lifeless body on the ground, that’s when he knew he had messed up. “Y/n…”

His voice broke through the silence, grounding the women back to reality. A beat passed before her feet quickly carried her back upstairs, subconsciously running away from him.

Back in the basement, the sound of metal echoed the walls as Carlos dropped the gun and took off after her. He knew what she’d be doing and that’d put him straight to jail, ending his career in the mafia imminently.

Luckily for the mafia boss, he was a lot quicker and it was easier for him to catch up with her. Wrapping his arms around her waist just before she could get to the front door.

Of course she struggled against his strong arms. Screaming and crying from a mix of fear and betrayal. And it absolutely broke Carlos’ heart.

He lowered his head to whisper in her ear vehemently. “Darling, calm down shh it’s okay..” Normally his words would fill Y/n with comfort and warmth but it was the complete opposite now.

“No!” Weakly she punched and hit the toned arm wrapped around her stomach, hoping he’d yield and let her go. But nothing ever stopped his strong arms.

It wasn’t long before Carlos slowly lowered the pair to the marble floor, he could feel and see her strength deteriorating. He watched as her eyes slowly fluttered shut, the exhausted from aimlessly fighting and screaming finally taking over.

Once the man knew it she was fully asleep, he picked her up bridal style much like he did their wedding night. Carrying her sleeping body through the white halls of the mansion to their bedroom.

Settling her down in the king sized bed was easy and gentle, covering her body with their high end sheets and resting her head on her silk pillow.

Stepping back towards the door to the bedroom, Carlos let out a deep sigh. This wasn’t how he wanted her to find out, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted her to find out. And to keep her as his own, he’d have to go to great lengths which is why he had no regrets with locking her in.

In his head, she’d be getting the best treatment so locking her in their room would be justifiable. He’d deal with her little outbreaks, each time breaking her down to be his perfect brain washed trophy.

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